"We're falling apart, David." "This is my job, it's my life." "You knew what you were buying into." "You said they deserved it." "I didn't say that." "Those people didn't deserve what happened to them." "Nobody does." "I know those people, OK?" "And one of them..." "Your son doesn't even bother to say hello to you any more." "I can't remember the last time you even looked at me." "You can't do it, can you?" "This is what I am." "This is me." "Then maybe we would be better off without you." "Maybe you would." "'And now the shipping forecast, issued by the Met Office on behalf of 'the Maritime and Coast Guard Agency 'at 12.05 on Thursday, 1st November 2012." "'There are warnings of gales in Lundy...'" "Hi, Anthony, it's, um... it's David Whitehead." "Er, can you call me, please?" "Sex traffickers in Southcliffe." "Can you believe it?" "This woman's story is very sad." "If things are that bad, she can always go home." "The IOM will pick up the bill." "You're always so worried about other people." "Like someone else I know." "I've been thinking." "Oh, not a good sign." "I'll do that, love." "I don't want to be an old man with no kids." "What are you talking about?" "I don't want to be alone." "I'm lonely." "How can you be lonely?" "I want us to try for a baby again." "I want us to go back on IVF." "Us." "You want us to go back on IVF." "I've been speaking to someone." "I'm told he's the best there is." "I'm not doing it, Andrew." "I'm not going through all that again, not even for you." "What do you say when you're down the pub and they ask you, "Got any kids yourself, mate?"?" "What would you say?" "I'd say yeah." "I've got one." "She's a girl." "There, then." "But she's not here, is she?" "Yes, she is." "Yes, she is." "She's here all the time." "She never shuts up." "Hello, mate." "Hi." "Do you want another?" "I'm all right, thanks." "I saw your, er... your missing student piece on the six o'clock." "It was a very nice package." "You think?" "Very smooth." "Queen Madge looking after you all right, is she?" "Yeah, everything's fine." "Well, I was, um..." "I was thinking of going back up there." "Up where?" "Like a... follow-up story?" "Like, what, one year on, kind of thing?" "You, er..." "You fancy riding shotgun?" "Me?" "When?" "Now." "Don't go back there, mate." "Look, um... somebody sent this to me." "There were warnings back then, weren't there?" "Someone's just having a go at the paparazzi." "It's more fun than complaining to Ofcom." "Yeah, that's what the police say." "It says, "Happy returns."" "David, this is just some nutter." "Stephen Morton was just some nutter, wasn't he?" "Listen, I'll..." "I'll help you out if you need a few quid." "David, I want you to get in the car now, come on." "Killer!" "Killer!" "Go away!" "Leave him alone." "Here, take my handbag." "Killer!" "Killer!" "Killer!" "Killer!" "Killer!" "Killer!" "Killer!" "Do you remember me?" "David Whitehead." "You knew my dad?" "Did I?" "I don't know who I'm supposed to be sometimes." "You came to see me a year ago about the shootings." "I know my guns." "Thank you." "Um... that's right, I, er..." "I received this." "It's disgusting!" "Who'd send a thing like that?" "G3." "Heckler and Koch." "That was one of Morton's weapons, wasn't it?" "The gun he was supposed to have shot himself with." "Yes, back then you said you thought that, um... officers lied, falsified evidence." "You said you thought Stephen got away." "You don't still believe that, do you?" "You put us in a zoo." "And he's still out there." "I think that's enough." "Please, could you leave?" "It's your fault." "You asked for it." "You deserve it." "They came for him at two in the morning." "He didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to his friends." "Or the pizza people." "Funny, people, you know." "He emailed me." "I was really worried they'd think that he'd just walked out." "I went down there and sorted it out for him." "You can't do things like that." "Well, you do." "That's my work and it's different." "You don't have to do that kind of work." "I never had a choice." "Not like you." "I wanted something better for you." "I know, Mum." "If I'm hard, it's because someone has to be." "Your father's useless." "You didn't have to choose him either." "He chose me, if you must know." "I love you." "Well, you've a funny way of showing it sometimes." "Who's that?" "Her name is Maria Dobra." "She works at the apple farms." "Here illegally, I suppose." "I was going to ask you about her." "I'm really worried." "Well, she's entitled to legal advice." "She's too afraid to speak to the authorities, Mum." "What are you doing?" "What are you looking for?" "You're right, it is a sad story." "Are you David Whitehead?" "You're a reporter, right?" "Er, yeah." "I'm Chris Cooper, do you remember?" "Oh, Chris, yeah." "How are you doing?" "Yeah, I'm doing all right, you know." "Keeping busy." "So you stayed on in Southcliffe?" "Yeah, I'm at me mum and dad's now." "Right, yeah." "Yeah, course." "This is my place." "Listen, er, Chris..." "I said some stupid things back then." "No, no, you got it right, mate." "No, I was out of order." "Pig shite, that's us." "Chris..." "I got it wrong." "We deserved it." "Look, if you, um... if you ever want to talk things over or have a chat..." "Go and get us a pint, mush." "Talk things over?" "He's got to forget about it, mate, do you understand?" "I thought you said he'd go back overseas." "Well, he didn't, did he?" "No." "No, I'm not surprised." "What the fuck would you know?" "Listen..." "I was pissed." "Oh, you don't remember, mate." "It can't matter now, anyway, can it?" "It matters to someone." "Well, not to me." "And not to him." "You stay out of my family's face." "Er, do you have a room?" "Single occupancy is £55 a night, double's £65." "Just a single, please." "Breakfast 7.00 till 8.30." "Thanks." "You can have your old room." "Sorry?" "I remember you." "As long as you've got your pint and your Beckham baseball cap." "I'd have pulled the trigger myself, wiped the whole fucking lot of you off the face of the Earth." "You asked for it!" "Now you deserve it." "Stephen Morton did you a favour." "Fuck off!" "Where are you from?" "Excuse me, where are you from?" "Excuse me, where...?" "Where are you from?" "Do you know a woman called Maria Dobra?" "She's from Romania." "Excuse me, look, Maria Dobra." "Nye ponimayem..." "Oi!" "Can I help you?" "I'm just curious." "You're on private property, love." "These people all have work permits, do they?" "You don't look like you're from border control." "I know people who are." "Oh." "Is that a threat?" "I've got nothing to hide, love, this lot all come through an agency." "Harry!" "Break's over, back to work!" "You're on private property." "Do you know a woman called Maria?" "No." "Maria Dobra." "Sure?" "She's from Romania." "You're still on private property." "No... wait..." "You don't have to tell me anything, but I can send people..." "You don't want to do that." "...you'll have to answer to." "Or they... they could close you down, you know." "They'll close you down." "They refused to help in any way." "For all we know, she could be beaten, raped, treated like an animal!" "This..." "We don't know any of this, Claire." "Oh, you're the same as them, you don't care, you don't really care about anything except yourself." "Anna... is dead!" "No." "She is not coming back." "Get out of my house, get out." "What do you fancy, love?" "A coffee, please." "Yes?" "My daughter took a picture, see?" "I don't understand." "Who are you?" "I'm..." "I'm Claire, I'm Anna's mother." "I don't know." "I'm looking for Maria." "Maria Dobra." "No, you must leave." "You're foreign, are you?" "The girls in there..." "I will call someone." "No." "I'm not from the Border Agency or anything, I'm not police." "If you don't go, I have to call." "Of course, you're one of them, aren't you?" "A working girl." "Look, there's... there's no need, I'm... going." "Hey." "Are you all right?" "How do you like your eggs, Mum?" "Go away!" "Go away!" "How are you coping?" "It's hard." "What Stephen did will never go away." "We knew him, Andrew." "What if we did something that... caused him to do what he did." "But it wasn't Stephen who was bullied." "I know." "I remember." "Well... you were a bit of a prick." "Yeah." "I guess I was angry." "When my dad died..." "I didn't understand." "He was just gone." "They never teach you that, do they?" "What, the absence?" "They can't..." "It was just kids, mate." "It's what kids do." "I'm sorry, Andrew." "I'm sorry about Anna." "And I'm sorry for the way I've behaved, it's, er... it's unforgivable." "I just, er..." "I wish there was a way of, er... taking it back." "Well, I wish I could, but I can't." "You just did." "Hello?" "Hello?" "Hey!" "Fuck's sake." "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Chris?" "Why are you sending me these letters?" "Snooping around." "Dodgy letters?" "What the fuck do you think I am?" "I've pissed off a lot of people, Chris, it wasn't just you." "I upset everyone." "What do you want from me?" "I don't want anything, mate." "What are you doing, Chris?" "Where are you going?" "Just fuck off!" "Chris, where are you going?" "Fuck's sake!" "I know she's here." "You can't come." "I told you." "You can't..." "Alex!" "Alex!" "What are you, a fucking tourist?" "What do you want?" "I came about a job." "What kind of job?" "Sex." "Sex?" "Yeah." "Who's this?" "This is the woman that came to the farm." "And she's come about a job, cos this is a brothel, right?" "Mm-hm." "Course it is." "Course it's a brothel." "You done sex work before?" "Yes." "Where?" "London." "In London?" "There's a girl called Maria..." "I thought you came about a job?" "She's here, isn't she?" "Yeah." "Yeah, Maria's here." "I want to see her." "I want to see Maria." "Maria?" "They're all fucking Maria." "Maria?" "Come about a job?" "Yes." "Well, you'd better show us what you got, then." "What you gonna do for us?" "Hmm?" "You gonna do a little dance?" "No." "No." "Go on, then." "No." "Do us a sexy little dance." "No!" "What's going on?" "Maria?" "Are you Maria Dobra?" "I'll get you out." "Come with me." "Who are you?" "Don't be afraid." "We'll get out." "You'll be safe." "What are you doing?" "Who are you?" "I'm Anna's mother." "You're Claire?" "Yes." "She spoke about me?" "Please..." "Yes, she did, Claire." "Well, I..." "I'll help you." "I can speak to people." "I don't need your help, Claire." "It ain't a fucking brothel!" "No!" "No, you need..." "No, just calm down." "No, no!" "No, please, no." "He made you say that!" "He made you say that!" "All right, all right!" "No, no." "No, stop it." "No, Claire." "Please!" "Please!" "Claire, this is my home." "No." "I don't understand." "I don't..." "I don't need your help." "Please, go home." "I don't understand." "I don't understand." "Have you seen Chris?" "What's this?" "What do you want?" "Are you Chris's dad?" "I think Chris might be in trouble." "I've got a feeling he's gonna do something stupid." "What are you talking about?" "Take no fucking notice of him." "Just, he's all right, all right?" "He's all right." "You, get the fuck out!" "He's not all right!" "Alan, he needs help!" "Alan, he needs help!" "Fucking listen!" "You fucking listen to me, yeah?" "Right?" "You cunt!" "Now you fuck off back to London!" "I'm fucking telling ya!" "Ssh!" "Come on, come on." "Oh, my baby..." "My baby girl!" "Ssh!" "Ssh!" "My baby..." "My baby!" "Ssh." "I'll take you home." "All right?" "I'll take you home." "Chris?" "Chris?" "Get out." "I'm not leaving, Chris." "Do you think I'm joking?" "Get out." "No, I'm..." "I'm not leaving, Chris." "Go on, get out." "Get out of my house." "Chris." "Chris, don't do it." "Don't do it." "Chris?" "Don't do it, Chris." "Chris?"