"It would be fair to say that on an average day in the little town I now call home, not a lot happens." "People go about their business doing the things people do, and news, when it happens at all, is not remotely earth-shattering." "(LAUGHS)" "(LAUGHS)" "But..." "even in the quietest of towns, there are things that are hidden." "There are lives that just slip through the gaps." "People can just disappear for years and things just carry on." "Life goes on." "As if they never existed." "You two are up early." "Places to be, Dad." "Exams to be examined." "What is it today?" "Ah, physics." "Well, good luck." "Don't really need it." "I've already passed, it's just a question of by how much." "That's the spirit." "You need a lift?" "I'll bike." "I've got plenty of time." "But I'll pick you up for that thing, right?" "Oh, if you must." "The long arm of the law catches up with you at last." "You and your bad ass boyfriend." "Not my boyfriend." "Have you told him that?" "He knows." "Have a lovely day." "Can they deport her?" "Hello, my George." "Welcome, welcome." "It's a bit over the top, isn't it?" "Oh, a little te reo never goes amiss in Aotearoa." "No, I meant that." "Yeah, Dad likes to make a fuss." "Of some people." "Better take that." "Christmas present last year from Siouxsie." "Nice." "My biggest fan, that girl." "Possibly my only fan." "Still, we've all got to move on sometime." "You've still got the real estate agency though, Monty, eh?" "Not the same, George." "Well, I guess you're wondering where to start." "What being editor of this glorious newspaper actually means." "Luckily, he has me to tell him, Monty." "So, you're here." "Yes." "Yes, I am, Gloria." "Ready to crack into it." "Crack into what exactly?" "Well, stories obviously." "News stories, human interest stories, that kind of thing." "(LAUGHS) What's funny?" "From experience, George, I think Gloria sees your role as more of a figurehead type arrangement." "Editorials, that's all you have to write." "I've got a list of topics here that Bill has approved." "Dad would actually dictate those to me." "Well, I think you'll find I'm capable of a little more than that once I get going." "I'm sure you are." "In fact, you've got that thing with Constable Tom this afternoon." "Maybe you could write about that?" "If I want my daughter never to forgive me." "Ah..." "See how quickly things become complicated, George?" "OK." "You've got to understand, George, it's a small town." "Oh, I know that, Monty." "Just saying." "Just saying." "Not a lot happens round here, news-wise." "Probably a good thing, actually." "(MUSIC)" "(RADIO PLAYS)" "♪ We don't change a thing You know, you're beautiful" "♪ I like working in the sunshine with my head held high" "♪ Now my family here they got this big blue sky" "♪ And I go one direction with my radio on" "♪ To see the world I need to know my destination" "♪ I could fly like an eagle from rooftops above" "♪ To send up all the people with the power and the love ♪" "Oh!" "Argh!" "Ooh!" "Ooh!" "Eugh!" "I know I don't have to remind anyone here, but the charges against these two young people are very serious." "Breaking into a man's home, his castle, we just don't do that in Weld." "Cut to the chase, Tom." "What are you gonna do about it?" "Ah, well now..." "Therein lies the problem." "Oh, here we go." "Ah, the problem being that, er, unfortunately..." "(SIREN IN BACKGROUND)" "(PHONE RINGS)" "Sorry, where was I?" "With the problem." "Ah yes, the problem that unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, we appeared to have misplaced the paperwork... (MOBILE PHONE RINGS) ..relating to these charges." "And as a result, this case won't be moving forward now... (MOBILE RINGS AGAIN) ..or anytime soon, for that matter." "Now, if you'll excuse me." "And justice is served, Tom style!" "I'm sure they have learned their lesson." "Isn't that right, Shay?" "Definitely." "(MORE SIRENS IN BACKGROUND)" "I'm, er, very sorry for any trouble we've caused." "Oh, me too, Mr McNamara." "I'm sorry, it won't happen again." "No it won't." "Because if it does, I'll dispense with the law and find some other deterrent." "Understood?" "I'm sure they do." "So, now that we're off the hook, we've got a whole beautiful summer ahead of us." "Us?" "Mmm." "Tempting as it is, not this time, Romeo." "Ooh, does that mean you're my Juliet?" "Can we go now?" "You should write an editorial about this, George." "Keeping the young people of this town in order and all that." "Yeah, if it's alright with you, I'd prefer not to, thanks." "Sounds like there's some bigger news going on out there, George." "You should be on that scoop." "(SIRENS)" "Yes." "Yes, I should." "Careful, guys." "We could have a critically injured patient here." "No, I'm sweet." "I'll be the judge of that." "Seriously, I'm better than that lady down there, that's for sure." "Again, I'll be the judge of that." "Oh!" "Are you here in your new capacity as member of the press, George?" "Yes, I am." "Try and stay out of the way." "No, this is not good." "OK, Tom." "You're in safe hands." "Yeah, we haven't dropped anyone in ages, eh Monty?" "No, Wally." "Not since we last dropped you, in fact." "Oh, if we do drop you, try to slide right to the bottom." "Fighting gravity only makes it worse." "And I'll be close behind you." "Why is this not reassure me?" "Bombs away." "Off you go." "OK, don't touch me." "OK." "I'll be holding you..." "I'm telling you, there's nothing wrong with me!" "Yeah, just to be on the safe side, alright?" "Who was the lady he was talking about down there?" "Listen to you!" "George the reporter after the big scoop, eh?" "Well, a small scoop would be good at this stage." "Well, then it's your lucky day." "Crashed car and a body lying unnoticed off the road for what must have been, I dunno, years." "Pretty exciting for a junior journo, eh?" "Editor, actually." "Yeah, him as well." "Sorry Monty!" "It's her, isn't it?" "Well, it's a little hard to tell in her current state." "But the car's definitely hers." "Bloody hell." "Unless you've come to tell me that you've miraculously found your paperwork," "I don't want to talk to you." "Actually, it's Bill Jr we've come to see." "Monty said he was here." "He is." "What's it about?" "Hey boys!" "Why the long face, Monty?" "Did somebody die?" "Yes, actually." "We think we've found Trina." "There will need to be a formal identification process, but..." "It's her." "It's a hell of a story, wouldn't you agree?" "(ON COMPUTER) I would." "Tragedy, mystery, irony." "Irony?" "Well, there was a dead body just off the road for all those years as people drove by." "Is that actually irony?" "Well, it's something." "Human interest." "Then why are you calling me?" "Just write it up." "Well, you're the trained journalist." "Give me a tip." "Make sure you spell everybody's name right, don't call Weld a dead-end town again, although for once that is kind of accurate." "That's not helping much." "Just write the story, George." "Write..." "Write what people want and need to know." "And don't forget, you've still got my column to write for me, yes?" "It will be done." "Gotta go." "You've heard, I'm sure?" "About the mystery body found just off the back road to Ruapehu?" "Yes George, I have heard." "Bit of a story, wouldn't you say?" "Hell of a story." "Human interest up the wahzoo." "Poor old Trina." "They know it is?" "Well, they know whose car it is, so logic dictates that it's Trina in Trina's car." "And was Trina well known around Weld?" "Oh yes." "In fact, you're well acquainted with one of her offspring." "I am?" "Her daughter is living at your house." "Lindsay?" "Oh hi, Mr T. We're out of cottage cheese." "Could you get the low-fat stuff next time?" "Don't want to chunk out now it's summer, right?" "Right." "Just you home, is it?" "Arlo is still at his exam and Woody was here." "Not really sure why." "Woody does that." "Heard from your Dad today?" "Nah." "Really?" "I mean, he's rung heaps of times but I don't feel like listening to his crap so I turn off my phone." "Well, maybe that's not such a good idea." "Why?" "What's up?" "I think you should just call him." "Why?" "You just should." "Why?" "Just call him, OK?" "I don't want to call him." "I think you should." "Why?" "Has someone died?" "Is it Grandpa?" "No, it's not Big Mac." "Monty?" "No, it's not Monty." "Did uncle Robbie die in prison?" "No, look it's really not right for me to tell you." "Seriously, whatever it is, I'd much rather hear it from you than Dad." "Tell me." "It's your mother." "They found her car." "Um..." "Her car?" "Where?" "Down the bank on the bank on the Ruapehu Road." "And she was in it?" "Well, they haven't formally identified the body, but..." "The body?" "Yeah." "Wow." "I'm so sorry, Lindsay." "(KNOCK AT DOOR)" "Lindsay?" "You here?" "I've been trying to call you." "Why haven't you bloody answered?" "I know, OK!" "I know she's dead, so just leave me alone." "Lindsay?" "Good one, Turner." "I'm sorry, she backed me into telling her." "Lindsay?" "Let's talk, George." "Outside." "Lindsay?" "Big Mac, I'm so sorry." "I know I shouldn't have been the one to tell her, but she just kept..." "Forget about her." "Monty says you were up at the crash site." "Yes." "Being a journalist." "Doing the job you pay me to do." "Yeah." "No." "Not this time, George." "Look, I understand this is obviously personal for you, but it is also a... ..a great story in the context of Weld." "Absolutely, and Gloria knows exactly how to handle it, so we'll just leave it to her, eh?" "Well..." "It's an evolving situation, George." "And I don't want you rushing around getting the wrong end of the stick." "Which is... what?" "Well, like I said, it's an evolving situation." "She end up coming?" "No." "No, she's not." "Well, stuff her." "She can do what she wants." "And she most definitely is doing that." "Evolving, George." "So..." "Now that you've got a new job here," "I guess that means that you plan on sticking around this time?" "Isn't your Dad meant to be Weld's IT guy?" "Oh, he likes to delegate." "So... are you?" "Sticking around?" "If I do, it has nothing," "I repeat, nothing to do with you." "I like the way you repeated 'nothing' there." "Makes me feel like you still care." "Oh, please, get a life." "Shouldn't you be off doing exams far away from here?" "No, I've got that sorted." "Ike was school dux this year." "Yay for Ike." "Yet he still can't fix a computer." "Look, I missed you, Shay." "I'm not going back there, Ike." "Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" "You think it should be easy?" "What Ike wants, Ike gets?" "Yeah, those were the good old days, but now I'm all about waiting until you figure out what you want." "Well, the internet would be good for starters." "Done." "It's been going since I plugged the router back in." "Great." "Send the bill to Katie." "Lizzie?" "We've been through this so if you need to talk..." "Through what?" "A death." "Nah, I'm sweet." "Well, Arlo will be home soon and I know he'll be supportive." "Actually, I might just go hang with my friends for a bit." "Yeah, no look, that's a good idea at a time like this friends can be really important." "Honestly, Mr T, I'm fine." "I stopped missing her, like, years ago." "And I knew those postcards weren't from her." "Sorry?" "What postcards?" "Every year at Christmas and birthdays, me and Jared would get postcards from Mum." "And all this time she was lying dead in her car." "Weird, huh?" "Yeah, that is a little strange." "Anyway, now I know the truth." "It's actually kind of funny when you think about it." "Well, I'm not getting that." "The postcards were from all over the world, and she hardly even made it out of town." "Deaths make the news." "Deaths make the news." "Especially ones that are unusual or unexpected." "Like murders." "Or accidents." "Auntie Trina must've been really decomposed, right?" "Well, let's not dwell on that now, Siouxsie." "Let's think of Trina as the spirited woman she was." "You know, when I go, I'd like to be strapped to my favourite board, sent out to the surf at sunset to take that final wave." "I can see a few problems with that idea, Woody." "Like what?" "Like the fact that the final wave would bring you back in again and you'd be a dead guy on the beach tied to a surfboard." "Oh yeah, I suppose." "Some make the front page news and others end up as a small paragraph on page 7." "The death of a loved one reduced to a few words." "The bare, hopelessly inadequate facts." "Well, definitely not that one." "You can see the body." "Yes, it was tricky." "No." "Oh, bloody Monty." "Oh, that one's not bad." "Got some good shots there, Constable Tom?" "I'll be the judge of that." "I believe Max spoke to you." "I am to leave all reporting duties to you." "Correct." "Probably best given the situation." "And what is the situation?" "It is delicate." "Evolving is what I'm told." "What I'm about to tell you, George, is off the record until I have completed my investigation, OK?" "OK." "Trina disappeared about eight years ago on a stormy night after her and Bill Jr had a disagreement, which unfortunately was not uncommon." "They fought like cats and dogs right from the start." "Yeah, Trina threw a plate at Bill at their wedding reception." "They only got married and she was up the duff." "So, not a match made in heaven then?" "Trina was... quite a handful, you might say." "And poor Bill Jr wasn't very good at handling her." "She used to take off a lot." "Sometimes for weeks on end." "She was always running off with some bloke or another." "And then she would come running back." "Oh, those poor kids!" "That explains a lot." "Eugh, let's face it," "Trina was a slapper and Bill's a total munt." "OK, this is starting to sound a lot like gossip." "Are we gossiping?" "'Course, there was a lot of gossip about where she was off to the night she disappeared." "They say she had a lover up the coast." "A yachty she'd met down at the boat club." "You know I caught them out the back when I was taking out the empties?" "They were up against the wheelie bin, just going for it." "Nah, OK." "Not listening." "Wasn't the story that they sailed away to Fiji, or something?" "And then kept going." "Well, that's what Bill McNamara reckoned, but now we know that wasn't the case." "And people thought they'd just sailed off into the sunset together?" "But that's wrong obviously." "Because she's been down that bank all these years." "Which is very strange." "Strange?" "In what way?" "Bad weather." "Bad road." "She probably died instantly." "There are worse ways to go." "Strange, in... why would someone send postcards to her kids making out she's still alive?" "Who told you that?" "Lindsay." "She said that they've been getting postcards from Trina every year." "I didn't ask you to do this." "I know." "I used my initiative." "Great." "I just thought everything needed a fresh start." "There's some really good stuff in there." "Mm-hm." "I like these landscapes." "Good." "They're not signed or priced though." "Yeah, they're not really for sale." "Why not?" "Just, you know, the artist couldn't really bear it if they hung there for ages and no one bought them, that's all." "They're yours?" "Mm-hm." "I thought you were a sculptor." "I dabble in paint." "You dabble really good." "Shay, you should probably go home now." "Are you firing me?" "No, god no." "Although, talking to me first is a skill that we need to work on." "But I think Lindsay might need your support right now." "Hey, Lindsay?" "What?" "Um, I heard about your Mum." "I am so sorry." "It's no biggie." "It kind of is." "She left years ago, so..." "Mind you, at least we know where she ended up." "Can you put some on my back, Arlo?" "I'm getting fried here." "She was probably drunk." "Trina used to drive drunk all the time." "Or maybe Bill Jr ran her off the road that night knowing everyone would think she was drunk." "Get a grip, you people!" "Oh, was Trina murdered?" "See?" "This is what happens when you gossip." "Exactly!" "That's what I've been saying all along." "Good for you, Woody." "That is why I'm out of here." "And you've got work to do." "Yeah, that too." "You off?" "Oh, ah, yeah, yeah." "Hey, Woody?" "Are we OK?" "Yeah, sure." "I mean, we had the talk, right?" "It's just that every time you look at me, it's like you want to run away." "Nah, no, no way!" "Or if I do, it's just 'cause I'm busy." "You know, I got places to be, stuff to do, you know, just like you." "OK, well, as long as we're cool." "Cool as a..." "Cool thing." "Look at them all." "They think I killed her." "Nobody thinks that." "Do they Fiona?" "'Course not." "Terrible news." "Of course, if anyone had the motive to bump her off, it'd be you." "I'm thinking crayfish." "And so it transpires that the simplest and most effective way of measuring the value of a human life, any human life, is whether anyone misses you when you're gone." "I was only, like, seven or eight when she took off." "Yeah, but you must be able to remember stuff about her, right?" "The stuff you used to do together." "Or her favourite thing to cook?" "No." "Nothing." "At the very least, we all like to think, surely, that someone will grieve for us when we're gone." "I think what Arlo is trying to say is that if you could focus on your Mum for a minute, get a clear picture of her in your mind, then you might actually start to feel something." "Why?" "Because she's your mother." "Yeah, and if you don't deal with grief properly then..." "And trust us, it'll come out in all sorts of weird different ways." "And you can end up suddenly living here, for example, because your Dad was in the denial stage and made a very rash decision." "I'm not in denial." "It's just like, for me she's been dead a long, long time." "If you guys want to get all choked up about it, go for it." "But I'm over it." "Mind you..." "There's gotta be some upsides to losing your mother, right?" "Like, did people give you money and stuff?" "No, I don't know, on the Kubler-Ross grief front, she hasn't even made it onto the scale." "Except maybe grief times ten." "She's certainly mystery." "No, she's a heartless, soulless cow." "Whoa, everyone has their own process." "Right?" "I mean, you didn't talk to anyone for two days after Mum died." "Yeah, so?" "At least I didn't burst into tears every time I saw a photo of her or even when someone mentioned her name." "It's called grieving, Shay." "It got embarrassing, Arlo." "Hey, hey." "Look, what I'm trying to say is maybe her process hasn't started yet." "Did she tell you about the postcards?" "The ones her mother supposedly sent from all over the world?" "Wait, so someone was trying to pretend her Mum was still alive even though she's been dead all these years?" "Unless Trina sent them from beyond the grave, it looks that way." "What, like someone was trying to cover up her murder?" "Well, there are other explanations." "Well, yeah, but not as cool." "Some revision still might be a good idea." "If you want, I can help." "It's Media Studies, Arlo." "It's not like brain science, or whatever." "You sitting an exam today?" "I kind of have too." "Well, couldn't you get a dispensation, given the circumstances?" "Nah, I did like no work all year, so if I don't pass the exam I am sunk." "Oh." "Eggs?" "Poached not fried." "Two." "With avocado, not tomato." "But hey, the good news is this is the last exam, so once it's over it's party time!" "Yay!" "My God!" "Your mother is dead, Lindsay." "You can't just pretend it didn't happen." "Shay." "Look..." "I get that you were all totally gutted when your Mum died, but mine chose to leave us." "If she hadn't crashed, she'd been gone anyway, so what's the diff?" "She might have come back?" "Well, we'll never know, will we?" "So, spare me the pity party." "I am over it." "Morning." "Correct." "So, that's it then?" "That's the story?" "Yeah, for now." "Because Big Mac doesn't want his family dirty laundry aired in public." "Ah, no, because most of what people are saying is hearsay and we don't print hearsay, George." "But it just seems so..." "Underwhelming?" "Yes!" "There is a life attached to that body." "Well, not anymore, to be accurate." "Which we are, George." "The facts." "So, an unidentified woman..." "Which everyone knows is Trina!" "She hasn't been formally identified yet." "So, until then it is not a fact, it is gossip." "We print news here, George." "News." "Siouxsie?" "Ah, Siouxsie, is Monty..." "Right here, George." "She's, er, processing her grief." "Were her and Trina close, then?" "Not really." "Trina didn't really like kids." "Especially her own. (LAUGHS)" "No, this is more of a general grief... about everything." "Love is a farce and everyone dies." "See?" "Especially in our family." "Look at Mum?" "I'm sorry, have you lost your mother as well?" "No, she lives in a house-truck near Stafford." "Denise had a change of heart." "Mum turned lesbian and Dad cried for a year." "Now she's with a man again." "George doesn't need to hear about any of that." "How can we help our esteemed new editor today?" "I'm actually not feeling that esteemed, Monty." "Welcome to my world." "I want to apologise." "Well, look no worries." "You're welcome." "Job didn't mean that much to me anyway." "I meant to Bill Jr." "Oh, what for?" "For being the one to tell Lindsay." "That should have been his to do." "You would have done a much better job than he would've." "I'd still like to talk to him anyway." "Do know where I can find him?" "Mm-hm." "I can do better than that." "Siouxsie, cancel my appointments for the day." "You don't have any." "Excellent." "He likes the way the balls roll across the grass." "It calms his angry soul." "You want to ask me about Trina, don't you?" "No, I just wanted to say sorry for..." "You loved your wife, didn't you George?" "You were happy?" "Well, we had our moments, but..." "But yes I did, and um..." "Yes, we were..." "Yeah." "I loved Trina too." "I don't think she ever really loved me." "Not really." "Deep down inside I always hoped she'd come back." "Even after all this time." "You were the one who sent the postcards to the kids, weren't you?" "I know people, plumbers, from all over the world." "We talk, plumbing, you know, online." "I'd get them to send blank postcards from their country." "I'd copy Trina's bit of scrawl as best I could." "Christmas cards, birthday messages, love Mummy." "And then I would courier the cards back to my plumbing mates and they'd post them." "I didn't want the kids to think that she'd just left them." "Forgotten them." "It's bloody stupid, really." "I probably just made things worse." "You were trying to do something good." "We try to make up the loss as best we can." "Yeah, well sometimes it's just not enough, is it?" "It gets better, Bill." "Not every day, but... ..trust me it does." "You hung another one of my paintings." "Yes." "What was wrong with the last one?" "Nothing." "And the people who bought it quite liked it too." "Really?" "Really." "Oh, for God's sake." "Yeah, it's down again." "I called Ike." "You call, I come running!" "Ooh, OK." "Up and running again." "Let me guess, he turned it off and turned it back on again." "(LAUGHS) No, he replaced the router." "Apparently it was shot." "He swears it wasn't an excuse to come and see you." "Uh-huh." "Although I do think it got him here a lot quicker." "Would it be alright if I use the space?" "To paint?" "Yeah." "Or to hide from Ike?" "To paint." "Yeah." "You go for your life." "Maybe I'll put one of yours on the wall and see how you like that." "Maybe." "You know that Ike is a really lovely guy, don't you?" "And he really has a thing for you which means he's not going away anytime soon." "That's his problem." "Yep." "But you'll still have to deal with it, right?" "It's great out here, eh?" "Away from all the problems of the world." "I think I might have brought my problems with me." "Away you go then." "It's just that I want to write something." "Well, then write it!" "About Trina." "Ah, right." "A life must be worth a few well chosen words more than just "Body found in car."" "Yeah, but there are so many rumours flying around now." "You can't even see the ducks from the trees." "I think you might find the expression is 'wood from the trees'." "It doesn't even make any sense." "Trees are made of wood." "Yeah, yeah that's the point." "Nah, I still don't get it." "But anyway, back to your problem." "Which is essentially that if I, if I write only the bare facts," "I feel like I would have done her and injustice." "Yeah, but on the other hand you don't want to upset anyone and you know, go into messy, gory details." "No, I don't want to do that." "I was out here the other morning and right before my eyes" "I saw two dolphins mating." "It was beautiful." "Beautiful!" "But also a bit disturbing." "Yeah, I can imagine." "And when they get, you know, quite passionate, they actually bite each other's fins." "Quite badly." "It can scar them for life." "Is that what happened?" "Nah, nah, nah, a killer whale appeared and chased them off." "And me." "(LAUGHS)" "I'm sorry, but what does that have to do with Trina?" "Exactly?" "I dunno, George." "You're the writer, mate." "Just telling you the story." "(LAUGHS)" "(LAUGHS)" "(PARTY MUSIC)" "Excuse me." "Ah, no worries, Mr T." "Hey Dad!" "Welcome to 'Lindsay dealing with her grief through partying'." "Not your idea, I hope." "Well, she said she was having a few friends over after her exams, but then this happened." "Right." "I might just go see how she's doing." "Tragic." "You've got to shut this down and kick her out, Dad." "Probably not the best idea right now." "Yes, she's lost her Mum, but clearly it's not causing her much distress right now." "Eugh, of all the awkward times." "Do something." "Please?" "OK, I'll have a chat to her." "Hi George!" "Hope you don't mind this little post exam blow-out." "It's so cool to see all my friends." "It might have been a good idea to ask me first, Lyndsay." "Yeah, I know." "But once word got out" "I think people just wanted to show me some love." "Because of Mum?" "Right." "Do you want me to get rid of them?" "'Cause I will if it's bugging you?" "How about you just keep the music down a bit, OK?" "Thanks George, you're the best." "Good work Dad." "(PARTY MUSIC IN OTHER ROOM)" "Hey Shay." "Gotta love your brother, right?" "He doesn't give up." "You do know what a lost cause is, right?" "Mm-hm." "Except it's not, is it?" "You know it, I know it, so why avoid the inevitable?" "Because maybe I want more for myself?" "Not to be one of the Lindsays of this world, hanging off some random guy's every word to fill the void of my existence." "Yeah, but I'm not some random guy, am I?" "But you might as well be." "Dad?" "It's time, Dad." "Time for what?" "We want our house back." "Fair enough." "Alright everyone!" "Just..." "Sorry to break up the party everyone but it's time to move it elsewhere, please." "Sorry." "Thanks for having us, Mr T." "It's been spiritual." "Yeah, thanks Ollie." "No worries mate." "Take it easy." "Drive carefully." "Alright, um..." "I'm not giving up on us." "You will." "Just leave them on the, on the table." "Drive carefully everyone!" "Thank God." "I thought they'd never leave." "Her grief runs deep." "I think Lindsay might be like a dam waiting to burst." "There is no right way to grieve." "And probably far more than five stages." "And the process itself is as complex as the people who experience it." "Especially if the loss is still a mystery." "Loaded with secrets." "Um, your Dad's here." "Honestly... ..do I look fat on this?" "No, you, you look..." "Lovely." "As always." "Thanks, Arlo." "You really have been so good to me." "I don't deserve it." "Of course you do." "You know, I would do anything for someone going through this." "You know me and Jared used to get all these postcards from Mum at Christmas and birthdays." "Yeah, I heard that." "We knew they were from Dad." "'Cause he's got this really bad squiggly handwriting, but we pretended to go along with it just to make him feel better really." "It's kind of sweet." "In his own strange way I guess... ..he does love you." "Yeah." "I guess he does." "Thanks for being there for me." "Your Grandad's waiting for you, love." "OK." "Laters, George." "All the best for today." "You sure you don't want us to come?" "No, we'll keep it just family." "I'll see you at the after-match though, eh?" "Absolutely." "You OK?" "Yeah." "Actually, I... ..I'm better than I've been in a long time." "Life goes on, eh?" "Someone's busy." "Just finishing my editorial." "OK, and what's it about?" "You'll have to wait and see." "Ooh, fighting talk!" "Hey, you better scoot or you're going to be late for that press conference." "What press conference?" "I've called you all here today to announce that our extensive investigation into the crash that caused the death of Trina Joy McNamara has concluded, and we have determined that Mrs McNamara died on September 12, 2008 after leaving the road in a storm on her way back to Weld." "Are there any questions?" "Yes, Mr Turner?" "Has foul play definitely been ruled out?" "Absolutely." "The idea of anyone tampering with Trina's car so it fortuitously drove off a cliff in a storm is the stuff of films." "And it was definitely a stormy night when the accident happened?" "Ah, there are some suggestions that it was overcast but possibly verging on storming." "Next question?" "And she was definitely returning to Weld?" "You know that for sure?" "Let's just agree that after extensive investigation of the crash scene it is highly probable and far more acceptable, that rather than driving away in anger... ..she was heading home in remorse." "And earlier today I informed all the concerned parties accordingly." "So unless there are any more questions or problems with the findings..." "No, I think the findings are perfectly acceptable." "In that case, we need a few snaps with the story." "The flowers would be nice." "Yeah, that would be nice, Constable Tom." "Just Tom, please." "I'm off duty now." "Sometimes a lie is kinder than the truth." "Or if something is not actually true, then it should be." "So, if a certain story helps people move on with their lives, no longer haunted by the secrets of their past, then I have to say... ..I'm all for it." "Look at your boy there, George." "He's got it bad, hasn't it?" "Yeah, I fear it'll end in tears." "Yeah, well that's love, isn't it?" "It's like the dolphins." "Or like Bill Jr over there." "(LAUGHS)" "Scarred for life." "Were you?" "Nah, that's different, mate, 'cause every time I look at her it's like the dolphins, except it's the version where the orca gets hold of them and rips them apart, fin from fin." "That's not good." "No, it's not, mate." "It's not ideal." "So, what are you going to do about it?" "Dunno." "Have another beer." "You?" "No, I'm good, thanks." "So, how's this for a deal?" "You use the studio whenever you want as long as you show whatever you finish." "And in return I might, might unclench long enough to not freak out when you show my art to the world." "You know that looking at him all the time isn't exactly going to discourage him, right?" "What?" "And it's a deal about the studio." "And the Ike thing is all sorted." "Is it?" "Yeah." "So, what are you two women of the art world plotting over here?" "Well, let's just say we're forming a support group and women artists of Weld unite." "Sounds excellent." "Speaking of support, I might go see how Arlo's doing." "So, how's Shay going with your gallery?" "I think we going to be just fine." "Great." "Here's to a summer of endless possibilities then, eh?" "I'll drink to that." "(MUSIC) ♪ Life is short" "♪ And in no ways easy" "♪ Silver lining can be hard to see" "♪ Now I've found it" "♪ It was always there... ♪" "Come on George!" "Time to bust out some of the moves." "I think Weld's seen enough of my moves." "(LAUGHS) Oh, that's where I think you're wrong." "I read your editorial." "I left it out for you to read." "And I did." "And?" "I found the dolphin allegory somewhat surprising at first but ultimately quite moving, and entirely consistent with the theme of life going on even in the shadow of death." "I illustrated it with Tom's photo of the flowers by the roadside." "Mmm." "It's almost as if Trina has become our very own Lady Di." "Oh, and I corrected your spelling mistakes." "Thanks." "Shall we dance, my dear?" "We shall." "Are they?" "They live together." "Didn't you know?" "No." "Mm-hm." "Wow!" "Wow, indeed." "(MUSIC) ♪ I thank you" "♪ You should probably stay" "♪ Because I don't want this feeling" "♪ To ever go away" "♪ Only time" "♪ Can hold me down Can hold me down" "♪ It makes me better... ♪" "(MUSIC HEARD FROM INSIDE)" "Well, I have to say, as far as wakes go, this one was pretty good." "Mum's was better." "Well, Mum's didn't have nearly as much dancing." "But it did have uncle Terry standing on the balcony shouting at the neighbours like there was no God." "My brother, the life and soul of every wake." "Wait!" "You forgot me!" "We thought you were..." "Going home... ..where you belong." "No way." "I mean, Dad's OK today, but tomorrow he'll be bad again." "Shotgun!" "There's a road leading out of town, no one will find her for years." "The lights weren't on when we left, were they?" "Ah..." "Ah..." "What?" "Something I meant to tell you guys." "Oh, hey guys!" "I know you." "Yeah, Daniel Cooper." "You know my olds." "My Dad worked with your wife." "Yes, I remember." "And you were right, this place really is the backend of nowhere." "Dad, Daniel's my boyfriend." "From Sydney."