Original subtitles

No credit card, no car.

- Um...

For the 9:30 crossing to Le Havre,

please make your way to Gate

where we will shortly be boarding.

- Hello? Where are you?

- Uh, what do you mean? Where are you?

- I'm at the ferry terminal.

- Uh, so am I. Where are you?

- Uh... right outside, near the entrance for LD Lines.

- Wait.

You're still in Portsmouth?

- Where else would I be? 9.30 ferry.

- Not departing. Arriving.

I meant arriving. I'm already across.

- What?

Who does that? "When's history today,

Mr. Mallory?" 00."

I mean, really?

- Sorry. You're right.

I should've been more specific.

- You can't keep me hidden forever, Mike.

- I know. But, look, at least this way,

car, estate agent...

- $38.30.

- So... when you do arrive, we can head

straight to the cottage. Sound good?

- I guess so. I don't have much of a choice,

now do I? - Great. See you then! Bye.

- They have not tools in England for you?

- Yeah, but not the same colour.

Merci.

- Tosser.

9.30 arriving.

Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.

Only car passengers that have vehicles parked on Deck 3...

We remind you that smoking is strictly prohibited

on the car deck,

and you must not start your engine

until you are told do to so by a crew member.

Once again, only car passengers that have vehicles parked

on Decks 3 and 4 are requested to proceed to the car deck.

Foot passengers, remain seated until further announcements.

- You're kidding me.

- Hey. - Hey. You made it.

- Yeah, finally. After the whole ferry thing.

- Well...

We should be on our way. Everything's all set.

- What about a proper kiss? - Time for that at the cottage.

Come on. Let's go.

- Oh! Holy time warp!

Nice. Did you rob a museum?

- What? It's vintage. And it runs perfectly well.

Come on. Chop-chop.

What's wrong? - What's not wrong?

No "Hi, how are you? Sorry about the mix-up."

Here, I bought you some flowers."

- Well... - I mean...

you didn't even give me a kiss.

- I did so.

- You call that a kiss?

I want a proper kiss. You know, a French kiss.

We're in France, Mike.

- Well, I...

I don't know.

I saw you in your uniform and panicked.

Bing-bong! Hello! I'm dating a schoolgirl.

- I'm on a "school trip," remember?

Anyway, I thought men liked the whole schoolgirl thing.

- On women who shouldn't be wearing one, yeah.

Not on actual schoolgirls, per se.

- If it's bothering you that much...

- What are you doing?

- What does it look like? I'm having a bath.

- Trish! Watch out!

I'm sorry, alright? I am.

Alright? The rest of the weekend will be perfect.

No more surprises. I promise.

- Good. Because... Hey, what's going on up there?

- Would you get down? - Get down?

Are you serious? I'm not getting down.

God! There was blood all over that wreck! Did you see?

- Really, Trish. I think... there would've been more fanfare

if it was that serious. - Mike! I know what I saw.

- And I know what I saw. It was nothing

- Are you planning on being nice to me at all this weekend?

- What does La Vacherie mean?

- It's a cheese. - Oh.

- Well?

- Oh, Mike! It's lush!

Phillip, Christy, darling, so lovely to see you again!

Mike's upstairs reading to the twins.

You make yourself at home.

How about some tea and a jammie dodger?

- So you like it, then?

- Like it? I love it!

I never want to leave! - Don't get too attached.

It's only a rental.

- Mike! Mike!

- Oh, what the hey.

- Come on, Mr. Mallory.

Come on, Mr. Mallory.

What was that?!

- I don't know.

- Mike!

Wait.

- What?

- Just in case.

- In case of what?

- I don't know! What if it's a wild animal?

Or a badger!

- Alright.

Hello?

Is anybody there?

The last tenants must've... forgotten to lock up.

- What are those? - What?

- There. They look like footprints.

- Ah! - Are you okay?

- There's broken glass all over the floor.

- You don't think...

someone else is... inside?

- Watch your step.

- Mike. - What?

- Oh, my God!

You don't think he's dead, do you?

- He certainly doesn't smell it. - Mike, would you please check?

- Me? - Yes, you.

- Hey.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up!

- Are you trying to kill him?

- Well, I think it's a bit late for that.

Oh, shit! He has a gun! Trish?

Trish, d'you hear what I said? - Mike.

Look.

How much do you think they're worth?

- Oh, my God.

Louis XVI.

1786.

- They've got to be worth a lot, then. Right?

- The gold alone in each coin is probably worth...

close to a thousand pounds.

To say nothing of the historical value.

- A thousand pounds?

What, each?

Oh, my God, Mike.

There's gotta be close to half-a-million pounds there.

That man, upstairs. You don't think he stole it, do you?

- Of course he stole it.

I imagine the police are after him as we speak.

- I bet he was in that wreck we passed.

Some kind of a dramatic getaway gone wrong.

- Wait. What are you doing? - Calling the police.

- The police? - Is it 999 or 112 here?

- Trish!

Let's think about this for a second.

- What's there to think about? If we call now, who knows?

They might even let us keep a few coins as a reward.

We'll be local celebrities.

- Yeah. I can see the headlines now.

"Professor Pedo and Teacher's Pet

Uncover Gold in Secret Love Nest."

They'll have a field day with us.

This could be half-a-million pounds!

Do you know how much easier that will make things?

Solicitors' fees, settlements,

won't make any difference. I can file and we'll be fine!

- I thought you said everything was taken care of.

- It is. I am. But it's complicated.

It takes time. Money. Planning. Paperwork.

- And when exactly were you gonna tell me all this?

The whole point of this trip is to celebrate us being official!

Is there anything else you forgot to tell me?

- I didn't want to worry you.

I didn't want to ruin the weekend.

The fact of the matter is, saying I'm gonna leave my wife

is a lot easier than actually doing it.

It's complicated, real-world stuff.

And... We... we've got to be careful...

if it's gonna work.

- Mike... you can't keep not telling me things.

It's not right.

It's not fair.

I tell you everything.

- I, uh... I know.

I was only trying to protect you.

But this...

...this makes all our problems go away.

It's literally our golden ticket.

With a nest egg like this,

we'll be able to go anywhere.

Understand?

- The man upstairs?

We can't just leave him here, can we?

- No. The cottage is in my name. Someone's bound to connect us.

- So what do we do?

- Well, um... what do you do when someone dies?

You... bury them.

And then what's out the back there?

There's fields of dirt.

Think about it. It's simple.

It's respectful.

It's the perfect solution.

- Sounds like you put a lot of thought into this.

- Oh, no... not at all.

It seems like the... the most logical solution,

that's all.

So it's a... a yes?

- What's a body or two between a man and his...

wife-to-be?

I love you so much, Mike.

- Exactly.

Oh, and there's tools in the car.

- In the car? - Yes.

There was a sale just before I came to pick you up.

Incredible deals. You wouldn't believe.

- You were on your way to pick me up

and stopped at a hardware store because they had a sale?

- Yeah.

- Sometimes you're really not very cool, you know that?

Mike?

You're gonna need shoes.

- Check.

- Wait. - What?

- We're not gonna leave this lying out in the open, are we?

- We're in the middle of nowhere.

Who's gonna sneak in and take it?

- I don't know. A man with a gun and a bag of gold snuck in.

Are you really gonna take that risk with our future?

- Fine. - Careful.

- I will be. Don't worry.

Somewhere...

no one will think to look.

- Mike?

Mike?

Mike!

- What?!

Perfect. - Of course it is.

I am a straight-A student, after all.

Where should we go first?

I was thinking we'd go to Machu Picchu.

- Pace yourself, dear. If we run around the world,

the money will be gone before we know it.

- Ah, there's totally enough for at least one little adventure.

What about Ibiza, then?

- I say, how about Scotland?

Shit! Where did I...? - Oh! Allow me!

Ooh! I like that colour!

- I suppose I must've had you in mind when I picked them out.

- You can go anywhere in the world

and you want to go to soggy old Scotland.

- Yeah, for research. I can finally finish my thesis.

"Homo-Holmesian.

Late 19th Century English Imperialism

and the Hidden Influence of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."

- What does that even mean?

- Well, basically it's an exploration

of Doyle's influence over foreign policy,

viewed through the lens of latent homosexual tension

between Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson.

- Well, what about there?

Or there. We don't have to dig if we put him in the water.

- No, he'd float. We need something

to weigh him down with, like cement or...

Shit! - What?

- Nothing. I looked at a cement mixer today

and I didn't think we'd be so close to the water.

- What did you think we'd be doing this weekend?

- Sorry.

- So where d'you want to dig? - There.

- Ah, shit!

Oof!

- I feel kind of, uh... excited.

Digging a hole to bury a body? Is that weird?

- No, not at all. It's... that first-time feeling.

Heart racing. A few butterflies. Feeling it myself.

- You're right.

I suppose it's kind of like that other first time we had.

- What other first time?

Oh, you mean...

Wait, that...

That wasn't your first, first time?

Was it?

- Did you think I'd been messing around

with the trolls in school?

I wanted a real man.

Someone...

strong and kind and...

...caring and mature.

Like you.

- Well, uh... I suppose I...

never thought about it like that before.

- Oh...! That's sweet.

- What?

- A heart.

My initials.

I love it.

I should've known.

You being so big and strong and mature--

- I didn't do that!

- What do you mean? - It wasn't me!

- You could've at least pretended

to do something romantic, but no!

- We're not here to sign our names to this place!

We're here to bury a body, for godssake!

- They're initials! Initials! They could be anyone's!

Oh, my god! You are so clueless! Argh!!

- Shit.

Oh, shit.

- Are you alright?

- No, nothing. It's my back. I twinged something.

- Can I do anything?

- No. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.

- This is murder!

- What? - Digging this thing.

How deep does it have to be?

- We're getting there. It won't be much more.

- Are you sure it's not deep enough?

"It's alive!"

"It's alive...!"

What?

- S-stop it. It's enough. That's deep enough.

- Finally.

If we go to Scotland, you're buying me a kilt.

- You know, traditionally, women didn't wear kilts.

- You know, I thought it was funny.

- What?

- "I'm alive! I'm alive!"

- What?

- I was doing Frankenstein. - Shit.

- Oh, that. Yeah, hilarious

- God, I stink. Can't wait for the bathroom back.

- Yeah. - Did you leave the light on?

- I must have.

But... but he can't. He was...

He was... dead. Wasn't he?

- Don't look at me.

I wasn't the one checking him.

- B-but h-h-he didn't react!

He didn't move! I'm sorry, but...

- And you smacked him around %pretty hard. If that was me,

I'd be seriously pissed off.

Shit! What if he's plotting his revenge? What--

- Can't you please shut up for one minute and let me think?

- What the hell is your problem?!

Do you not think I know that this is bad?!

We're in this together, you and me!

So stop treating me like some stupid child! You tosser!

- But you are a child! So will you please

stop trying to help and let me figure this out!

I... Trish!

Trish.

Trish?!

I'm sorry! I didn't mean to...

- Argh!

- Trish!

What are you doing, Trish?!

- I'm doing what we should've done from the start!

I'm filling this in and I'm calling the police!

It's the right thing to do! It's the grownup thing to do!

- Trish, look, I'm... I'm sorry. Alright?

I-I'm a little bit stressed out, is all.

- You think you're the only one who's stressed?!

All I want is a life with you,

and I feel like whenever it's your turn to commit,

you just keep coming up with these excuses!

"Oh, Trish, I forgot to file for divorce!

Trish, all we need to do is bury this body and we're set!

Trish, you're just a child."

You're always chickening out!

Always! You tosser!

This is bollocks.

I don't know why I ever let you talk me into this.

- Trish.

Argh!

- Whoa!

Shit! He's under the deck! He's underneath me!

Jesus Christ.

I-I-I've got your gun! And I'm not afraid to use it!

Why don't you come out and let's talk this thing through.

- We're in France! He doesn't understand you!

Well?

Well, I guess not.

Ah!

Ow!!

- Mike!

Mike! - Ah! Ho-ho...

Trish...

Trish! Help me! - Oh, my god.

- Oh, my foot!!! - Mike, look at me! Look at me!

Mike! Look at me. You're gonna be fine,

you hear?

You bast... Oh, my God.

- What?

- You're cute.

- Trish!

- Wait! He tried to--

- Oh, sorry. - Trish!

- Ooh. Wait. Okay.

Wait. Do you promise to stop coming up with excuses

about why we can't be together?

- Can't we talk about this later?!

- No, we're gonna settle this right now.

Do you promise to treat me as an equal?

- Yes! Yes, yes! I promise! I promise! I do!

- Alright. I like the sound of that.

Okay, there.

- Oh, God. - Okay, there.

Do you think you can walk?

- Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

It's nothing hydrogen peroxide and a bandage won't fix.

- God, that thing's probably crawling with tetanus.

We've gotta get you to a doctor. - No! No doctor. No. Inside.

- What about him? - We'll get him later.

Wait. The gun, the gun.

- Here. It's okay. It's okay.

- Ah-ha!

- I'm calling the police. This has gone too far.

- No. No police. We've gotta stick to the plan.

- What plan? He's still alive.

- That's a minor complication.

- Complication?!

What is wrong with you?

- There is over half a million sitting in that rubbish bin!

Do you really wanna throw that away?

'Cause that's what's gonna happen if you call the police.

- Why did you have to pick this place?

Makes me wish we'd just kept driving.

Ending up in some...

little village time forgot.

Somewhere they grow grapes.

We could've started a vineyard.

Made wine.

Chateau Mallory. Wouldn't that have been amazing?

- You know...

they don't grow grapes here, actually.

It's apples, mostly.

Cider. Calvados. But no wine.

Did you know that apples,

stored properly,

almost never go bad? They, uh...

They'll last for... months.

Even years.

But, um...

when, um...

when one goes bad, they all do.

Hence the expression...

"One bad apple."

- Should I be taking notes?

Will this be on our end-of-year test?

Well, if they don't grow grapes, then we'll be apple farmers.

Selling tarts and cider at the market.

- Okay, let's do it.

Okay, forget about him.

We'll take the money and run.

Someplace where nobody knows us.

- You mean it?

- But you have to promise me something.

Okay, no more talk about calling the police.

If you talk to them...

...we'll lose everything.

- Okay.

I love you, Mike.

- I love you, too.

I'll take these to the car. Can you manage the gold?

- I'll be back before you can say "Louis D'Or."

- Oh.

- Uh, oui. Yes, yes.

- I thought I recognized it.

I have a talent for these things.

- Yes. Well done, sir. Well done.

- My colleague, Chiffre, is deaf to this kind of detail.

- Yes. Can I help you?

- Oh, yes. Where are my manners?

Gendarme Chef Jaubert.

And Gendarme Chiffre.

- To what do I owe the pleasure this evening, Gendarme Chief?

- Oh... simply a routine visit,

Mr...? - Uh... Mallory.

- Mallory.

Are you alright, Mr. Mallory? - Fine.

Top of the pops. Why do you ask?

- Your foot. I didn't know if you'd hurt yourself or...

- This? I, uh... I, uh...

I went for a hike in the... the fields...

- Fuck.

Uh...

Mike?

Mike!

- Can it wait just a minute? I'm talking to the gendarmes!

- Uh... - Tell him it can wait.

- No rush.

It's just that thing...

from the bathroom again, that's all.

- It's the plumbing thing.

Plumbing. The... the...

pressure in the pipes acting up again.

- Mine is silence.

- Well, mine's self-defence.

Put it down.

Come on.

- Oh...

You're in luck. Chiffre here is a magician,

when it comes to this kind of thing.

- Oh, no, no! Really... That's not necessary, is it?

- Nonsense. We are here to help.

- Fridge.

- In there?

- It's in there, or with the gendarmes.

Take your pick.

- Okay.

Maybe... you and me, we can make a deal.

- Quiet.

- Forget the gendarmes.

Forget your man.

We could be like Bonnie and Clyde.

Go south.

Lay low a bit.

Then cruise to Marrakech.

All you have to do...

is drive us.

Right now.

- In!

- It's nothing to worry about. Honestly.

I'll call the estate agents in the morning.

You must have more important things

to look after tonight, don't you?

- Mr. Mallory, please. It is the least we can do.

- Wait.

Is it a boy or a girl? - How...

- I saw the scan in your bag.

- I don't know.

They can't tell me till the second scan.

- Well...

- Now, if you don't mind. - Okay, well...

- Oh, hello there!

- Gendarme Chef Jaubert.

And this is my colleague Gendarme Chiffre.

- Hi there. Trish.

- I understand you have some issue with the plumbing.

Plomberie.

- Right! Uh, it started upstairs in the bathroom earlier,

and then it just popped up here in the kitchen.

But I think I managed to fix it.

At least for now.

- You never know what's hiding inside old places like this.

- So, uh...

what was it that you wanted to talk to us about?

- You recall the car accident, don't you?

- At the side of the road? - Mm-mm-mm.

- Oh, that looked pretty nasty. Nobody was hurt, were they?

- I'm afraid so.

But the men involved were all very bad. Very bad.

We believe one of them, the only survivor,

fled the scene and may be hiding somewhere in this area.

- This area? - Yeah.

You haven't seen anything suspicious since you arrived,

have you? - No, no.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Trish?

- No! Just the sink.

That's all.

- Nothing out on your... hike?

- No. I can't say that we did.

But if we do, you'll be the first to know.

- Well...

I suppose we should be on our way.

Chiffre?

- That was close.

- Mike, there's something I have to tell you.

- What?

- You might want to sit down.

- Trish... this is hardly the time.

Out with it.

- I...

- I?

- I'm...

I put him in the fridge.

- In the fridge?

- Yeah. And he's still in there.

- Shit! - He snuck in the back

when you were talking to the gendarmes.

Luckily I had the gun, but... Oh, Mike, what are we gonna do?

- Where's the gun? - It's in the drawer.

Wait. Mike, you're not seriously thinking--

- The gendarmes are looking for him.

If we leave him here and they find him,

they'll come looking for us.

They know my name, Trish. They know yours, too.

It's him or us. - Mike, we're not killers.

- If we don't do this, we'll be looking

over our shoulders for the rest of our lives.

Have you got any idea what that's like?

This is the only way to be free,

is to bury everything that connects us

deep in the ground where no one will ever look.

- There has to be another way. - It's the only way.

He'd do the same to us, given half the chance. Less.

Think of it as self-defence. Merciful, even,

if you think about the kind of shape he's in.

- Okay.

But if we do it, can we at least do it nicely?

Okay? - Okay.

On three, you open the door, alright?

- Okay.

- One, two, three.

- Oh, my God, is he already--

- Of course not. He has more lives than a Hindu cat.

- Now what?

You're gonna shoot him? Point-blank, right here?

- It's fast and easy. That's what we need right now.

You said you wanted commitment.

- Okay.

I can't watch.

- Oh, not again!

- What did I miss?

You should have left me in the fridge.

- Yeah, nobody asked you!

Stop that.

I said stop that!

- Ten pints.

- What? Shut up!

Stop staring at me like that! It's disturbing!

- There are 10 pints of blood in the human body.

Me? Maybe nine and a half.

You shoot me, it's a big mess to clean.

- I've already told you once. I'm not gonna tell you again.

I'm the one with the gun. And I make the rules.

And the rules are you don't... stare at me!

And you don't... talk to me! Understand?

- You shoot me here?

You'll never get it clean.

The blood, it goes everywhere.

Your clothes, the wall, the rug.

Even if you clean it up... it shows up for years.

- What are you talking about?

- Basic investigative techniques.

- Would you please shut up?!!

- No. No.

Too much work.

Too much risk.

If it was me... I'd find another way.

- Mike.

- Don't be embarrassed.

Murder's not for everyone.

- No, I can't, I can't... I can't do it. I can't.

- It's alright.

It's okay.

- No, it's not alright. It's a big mistake.

It's all a big, fat, stupid mistake!

God, I'm stupid. I'm so stupid.

I thought if I...

I thought if... If I...

But... I can't. I can't!

I can't do it.

- It's okay. It's alright, okay?

Don't cry.

Okay?

We'll leave.

You and me.

If the gendarmes come after us, we'll figure it out.

As long as we've got each other. Alright?

- Oh, no, no. You don't understand! It's...

It's this. Everything. It's a sham. It's make-believe.

- What do you mean?

- I want to go home.

I don't care what happens. I just want to go home, Trish.

My...

To my real home, to my wife.

And family.

Naomi's expecting.

I'm gonna be a dad, can you believe that?

I'm sorry, Trish. I'm so...

I'm so... I'm so sorry.

- I'm pregnant too.

Six weeks.

- You didn't know?

Look at her.

That's why she's so beautiful.

- How?

It's not... it's not mine.

- Of course it is! Who else's would it be?

- Oh... Jesus Christ.

What are we gonna do?

- Thought this was the first day of the rest of my life with you!

But now you're saying you wanna go back to your wife?

- Why didn't you tell me?! - I tried!

There hasn't exactly been a good time to bring it up!

Maybe I should've tried in class!

"Oh, oh, Mr. Mallory, sir?

Remember that afternoon

when we were revising in your office?

Well, I'm pregnant now!"

- Trish!

- Maybe I thought there would be a good opportunity

to do it this weekend.

But he showed up and ruined everything!

- Hey, don't blame me.

- What now? What next?

- Were you serious when you said we can be together

if we had the gold? - I... Yeah, yeah.

- Then it's settled. We have to get rid of him.

But no shooting. He's right, it's too messy.

- Are you serious?

- I am not raising this child without you.

They are going to have a proper family,

with a mum and a dad, just like I always wanted.

- You are serious.

- They say drowning's the most peaceful way to die.

Right?

- There's not a whole lot of survivors to say otherwise,

but general consensus, yes. - That's how we'll do it.

I fill the bath, you find something to weigh him down.

We don't even have to touch him. It'll be like an accident.

And then we'll bury him just like we planned.

- Well, that went well.

- Who asked you?

- You don't still think... you can kill her, do you?

You couldn't even shoot me,

and I'm tied up.

- Don't know what you're talking about.

- She packed her life... in that little bag over there.

All you packed was one change of clothes.

Brand new.

Tags still on.

Plus your wife's painkillers.

Good shit. I can barely feel my legs.

Then... there's a receipt for the tools.

You didn't know I'd be there.

So you didn't buy them to bury me.

My guess is...

you were going to sneak in one last romance...

...drug her...

and then bury her.

And I saw you try to kill her...

with the pickaxe.

- You don't understand.

- That she's your student?

And pregnant?

Doesn't take a genius to understand

that you're in a big fucking mess.

- I kept trying to end it.

But... she's obsessed with this teenage fantasy

that we're running away together.

But I love my wife. I do.

But if she ever found out about Trish, about any of it,

I'd lose her. I'd lose everything.

Family, career, everything I've ever worked for, gone.

All because of one little indiscretion.

One moment of weakness. One!

- I think there was more than one.

But you're not a killer.

I think Trish isn't the only one living a fantasy.

- Hi. I can't take the call now, but leave me a message

and I'll ring you back soon as I can.

Trishie, if that's you,

I love you lots and can't wait to see you.

- Hi, Mum.

It's Trish.

Thanks for the message.

Um... I'm just calling to say hello.

Trip's alright.

It wasn't what I was expecting, but...

I'll, uh...

I don't know about the postcard.

Maybe. We'll see. I don't know.

I love you so much, Mummy.

So much.

Bye.

- You're right, I can't do it.

But, uh...

...you can.

- Oh... what do I look like?

- You want your gold back, don't you?

Well, let's make a deal.

The gold... for the girl.

- So you want me to kill her

and you pay me with my own money?

I don't think so.

- It's either that, or you drown in the bath.

I... I can't do it, but, uh...

believe me, when Trish gets it into her mind

she's gonna do something, she will.

And right now, you're what stands between her

and her perfect little French family.

It's the only way we both get what we want.

- You're serious?

- Deadly.

- Okay. Deal.

- Good. Promise me one thing.

Make it quick. I don't want her to suffer.

- Give me the gun.

You want me to kill her or not?

- Yeah, but how do I know you won't shoot me

and take the gold?

- Normally I would.

But... I definitely can't drive with my leg like this.

So I can work with you, I can drown,

or I can try to outrun the gendarmes on a broken leg.

What do you think I'm gonna choose?

- Work with me.

- Exactly.

Now...

here is the plan.

You're gonna hide in the cupboard.

And no matter what happens, or what you hear,

you don't come out until I tell you.

Understand?

- Understood.

- Mike?

Mike?

Mike, the bath's ready!

Mike?

What?

- He's gone.

- Gone? What do you mean, gone?

- Um... sayonara?

Adios. See you.

- Liar. You're lying.

Mike?!

Mike?!

Mike?

Mike?

Mike?!

Where is he? What have you done to him?!

- I thought you liked me. - Sorry.

- I'm tied up. What could I do?

Hmm? Tell me.

Instead of asking "Where is he?" maybe you should be asking

"Why would he leave without me?"

- The gold.

But the car is still outside.

You're lying.

- Why would I lie? Huh?

Your man took the money and split.

- We'll just see then, won't we?

Oh, shit. Shit! Stupid! Sh...

- Clever.

Take it out. - Uh...

- Slowly.

Here. - You want it back?

Take it. It's yours.

- That's not the deal. - No, no, no. Please.

Uh, just... just take the gold.

I won't tell anyone. I swear.

I swear. Please?

Where's Mike?

Please tell me! What have you done to him?

- You sure you wanna know? - Please. What's going on?

- Your man asked me to kill you.

Hired me. Hmm.

While you were running the bath.

That's why he brought you here, actually.

- No. He would never!

I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!

Please! I'm pregnant!

- No. What are you...?

I know.

And don't worry. I'm not gonna kill you.

I have other plans for you.

Pick it up.

We're going on a long drive, you and me.

Pick it up!

- You piece of shit!

We had a deal!

- Mike?

- Look away. - No.

- You deserve a lot better than him, trust me.

Shit. Shit!

Get out!

Ah!

- Mike!

- I have a family! A wife who loves me!

She's carrying my child right now!

I'm not going to get set on some 17-year-old schoolgirl

living in a fantasy world!

Did you really think I would leave my family,

my career, everything for you?!

It will be like you never existed!

Fuck!!!

Fuck!!!

- Ah, dammit, Mike!

- Come on.

- Oh, shit!

Shit. Shit!

- Ah!

- Don't even move a muscle.

- You're alive? Again?

- Next time you try to kill someone, Mr. Mallory,

you've got to really make sure they're dead.

- It's empty, Trish. - I'll take my chances.

- Look... So what now?

You gonna kill me? "An eye for an eye

makes the whole world blind." Gandhi said that.

- I know who fucking said it!

It was the first question in your half-term test!

And no! I am not going to kill you.

I'm gonna make you front-page news,

so that everyone, everywhere,

knows how much of a psychopath you are!

You know, I actually feel sorry for your wife,

but not for you, you sick fucker. Now move!

- Trish, maybe we can still talk this through.

- Shut up! - Trish, I still love you.

- Fuck off! - I'm sorry!

- Mike! Don't!

- Help! Help! Help me, please!

Somebody help me!

Help!!

- Anybody!!

Hello?!

Help! Oh! Please!

Oh, please help me!

Come on!

Just here!

Unwrap me!

Thank you! Thank you, thank you so much.

I was so scared!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.

- Oh! - Oh!

- Some night you've had, huh?

- Do you, uh, need me to make a statement or anything?

- About what?

The double murder in the garden?

I think we both know that's not what really happened.

I think it's better for everyone if we take care of it.

Your whole life's ahead of you.

Hmm?

Forget about this weekend, okay?

- What weekend?

- Smart girl.

You'll go far.

- God, this music is torture.

No wonder the French all flee to England.

Oh, shit!

Oh, of course it is.

Hey. Sorry it took so long to call you back.

My weekend's been absolutely mental.

Yeah, the big weekend. Don't even get me started.

No, not in a good way.

So what did you do this weekend?

Really?

No! A French guy?

Oh!