Original subtitles

Hello, and a very, very good morning to you.

It's BBC London 94.9.

It is me, Jo good, and Paul Ross.

And may I say, with the sun shining outside,

as it plays gently

across the beautiful buildings of London,

you look gorgeous this morning.

Thank you very much.

You've soaked a bit of sun and a bit of sun in.

Do you know my favorite vista ever

is going over Waterloo Bridge?

You know, when you see Westminster,

you see Big Ben, you see the London Eye,

you see the South Bank.

And the great thing is it's better to be

on Waterloo Bridge looking across the river

because Waterloo Bridge is the most boring bridge,

apart from London Bridge, in London.

But you're on Waterloo Bridge, you see good things.

It's like, never stay at the Dorchester.

Stay at the cheap place next door

and look down on the Dorchester.

You save money.

- You get a better view. - You're so right.

What a lovely city we live in.

Yes.

That's enough of our yakking.

Dear Wendy, Olive, Rhona,

Natalie, and Gemma,

I hope you're all very happy.

Did that sound sarcastic?

It was meant to.

What you've collectively done to me...

What you've collectively done to me is...

What you've collectively done to me is quite an achievement.

Four years ago,

I was happy to believe in a very simple concept.

You might have heard of it.

It's called love.

But thanks to the five of you, I now know

that love is a lie,

a myth specifically concocted

to bring me as much pain and misery as possible.

Wendy.

Were you ever really that interested in me,

or was I just understudying for Alex

while you and him went through a dull patch?

Olive.

Almost everything I told you was a lie.

I'm sorry about that.

Rhona, who did you think I was?

If I was that wrong for you,

then you really should have been paying more attention

at the start.

Natalie, okay, so, I got myself out of that one,

but did you really want me or just someone?

And Gemma,

what shall I say to you?

I suppose I should forgive you.

This is a suicide note, after all.

Okay.

I forgive you.

But I don't want that to make you feel any better.

I'm sure you'll all find someone.

You might even think you're in love,

but don't kid yourselves.

We're all just playing out scenes we've seen in films.

The only difference is

that our stories have depressing endings.

When real people walk towards a sunset,

no music swells, no credits roll.

They just get to the end of the beach,

have a row, and walk back to the car.

And that's depressing.

In fact, after reading this,

you might feel your only option is to join me,

and that's the one thing I wouldn't blame you for.

Bye, then.

Duncan.

Well, good morning, ladies and gentlemen.

We're just about to show you a short video

explaining the safety guidelines.

Please watch and listen carefully.

If you have any questions after watching the video...

Sorry, but I think my belt's stuck under your, um-

Oh.

Oh.

Sorry.

Thought the seat felt a bit uncomfortable.

Well, that's normal.

It's just economy.

Sorry.

That's just w-what?

Economy, that's just being in,

it doesn't, doesn't matter.

It wasn't very funny.

Oh, no, no, I-I get it.

Sorry, I'm a, I'm a little bit slow sometimes.

I'm only in economy 'cause my firm are such cheapskates.

Me, too.

Oh!

Were you at graphica?

Sorry.

- What? - At the, the expo?

Um, I-I-I-

God, you've got no idea what I'm talking about, do you?

No, not really.

Sorry.

You must think you got lumbered next to a right nutter.

Okay, I promise I'll shut up now.

No, no, not at all.

What is it?

Graphic what?

Oh, no, graphica.

It's just a work thing, and, no, I just assumed

that you were coming back off it, as well,

which is, of course, ridiculous and a little bit arrogant.

I have this tendency to think

that other people's lives revolve around mine,

so I really am gonna stop talking and leave you in peace.

No, no, it's quite all right.

It's okay.

You know, I, uh-

Of all the people I could have sat next to,

I sat next to Wendy.

I couldn't accept that meeting her on that plane

had merely been a coincidence.

Had heavenly forces been subtly shifting our movements

so that we would one day meet

on the Paris-to-London shuttle?

Or was it just down to chance?

Johnny?

Well, thanks, Duncan.

Okay.

Well, between Charles de Gaulle and Heathrow airport,

there are two national airlines,

and they were running that morning six flights.

So, the odds, one in six.

I'd actually planned to get the 10:30 Air France flight.

But somehow a bottle of shampoo leaked in my bag,

wasting a valuable 10 minutes.

By the time the hotel clerk had produced my bill,

cleared my credit card, and I found a taxi,

it was already 9:15.

Then, because of some ridiculous roadworks

on the Champs-Élysées,

by the time I got to the airport,

my flight had finished boarding.

I couldn't be bothered waiting for the next Air France,

so I get the next B.A.

Would you like some lunch, madam?

Oh, yes, thank you.

And you, sir?

- Uh, n-no, I-I don't- - We have sandwiches,

if you'd like.

Well, I'm not, I'm not really hungry.

Oh, no, go on, take a meal.

I'll eat it.

I'm starving.

Uh, okay.

- Thanks. - Thank you.

Are you sure I'm not depriving you?

No, absolutely not.

Thank you.

I just, I love airline food.

Really?

You must be the only one.

I don't know.

It, it sort of, it still seems like a treat, somehow.

My mum used to have one of these trays at home,

and, and anything I wouldn't eat,

she'd put in it and pretend we were going on holiday.

Mm-hmm.

And did it work?

Yeah, every time.

It was kind of, it's a bit silly, really.

Well, no, it's not, really.

It's not as silly as collecting sick bags.

Sorry.

Collecting what?

No, it's nothing.

Well, no, do you collect sick bags?

Eh, not anymore, really.

So, how many have you got?

Uh about 100.

Blimey!

You must have traveled a lot.

Well, it was my dad, mainly.

He'd collect them for me.

They're, yeah.

Sort of like postcards,

he'd write little messages and draw little pictures.

Aww.

They're like works of art.

Sweet.

Really?

Sweet.

Well, it did make me want to travel.

He'd write reviews of the places he'd been,

and I always wanted to know if he was right.

So you're sort of working your way through the sick bags?

Sort of.

So, it's about halfway.

That's so great.

I wish I had a mission like that,

something to devote myself to.

I'm Wendy, by the way.

For the next 33 minutes,

Wendy gave me her mini biography.

Wendy had been in Paris attending a trade fair.

She worked as a graphic designer

for a fashion magazine in Soho.

She was born in Blackpool,

but moved to Wiltshire as a child.

She did fine art at Camberwell

and now lives alone in a flat in Earl's Court.

The whole place is falling apart, though.

I mean, I really shouldn't have bought it.

It needs so much doing to it.

But it was one of those rash decisions.

I have a tendency to do that.

Well, one of those rash decisions became me.

Soon, my life would be full of-

I need to see you now.

And-

You make me very happy.

Despite incredible odds, we had found each other.

Didn't that prove

that these things weren't just down to chance,

that God is running some kind of heavenly dating service?

Have you given up hope

of ever finding that special person?

Well, don't despair!

At Divine Dating,

we have hundreds of expertly trained staff

standing by to meet your romantic requirements.

I never thought I'd find her.

I'd given up hope.

A friend of mine introduced me to Divine Dating,

and I've never looked back.

Now I just think of the future for both of us.

Uh, the three of us, remember?

Oh, yes, the three of us.

Divine Dat~ing,

'cause one day the big fella will get 'round to you.

And that means you!

It has to be something like that

because otherwise people

are just meaninglessly bumping into each other.

Please let me look.

I happen to be a doctor.

That's very kind of you.

I had to believe that Wendy

and I were meant to be together.

I mean, just look at the evidence.

We were both born at around midnight

in the same month of an even-numbered year.

Both of us tried to learn the clarinet.

We were both in school productions

of "A Midsummer Night's Dream."

We both have two large freckles on a toe our left feet

and a cavity in the same rear molar.

And both of us do this in bright sunlight.

We even own the same edition of "Anna Karenina."

I was convinced that I was always destined

to sit next to her and not just any other girl.

I was meant to fall in love with those eyes,

that way of combing her hair, of biting her lower lip,

that, despite odds of 0.313%,

I was sure that I was put on this earth to be with Wendy.

Well, I love being with you.

I know that.

So, what's the problem?

It just wouldn't be fair on Alex.

But I thought you said

that didn't matter anymore.

Yeah, I know, but...

Should be devastated.

You're wonderful.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

Stop!

Oh, don't.

I can't.

Look, it's gonna be painful, whatever happens,

and the longer you leave it, the worse it's gonna get.

I know.

Now, you told me yourself that you don't love him anymore.

It's just that Alex

has had so much tragedy in his life this year

that this would just destroy him.

Yeah, but surely if you keep on lying to him,

it's only gonna make things worse.

I don't know if I'm lying to him, though.

What does that mean?

I don't know.

No, come on, Wendy.

You either love him, or you don't.

Well, yeah, I do love him.

Yes, but do you love him more than me?

Wendy?

Wendy.

So, how did this happen?

Where was-

I need to see you now.

And-

You make me very happy.

Was this the same person

that, on the 6th of December, said-

Yeah, I'm sort of with this guy,

sort of, but, mm,

it's been pretty ropey for quite some time now.

Oh.

And two weeks later-

That's it.

It's over.

It really is all over.

At what point did that become this?

So, you didn't tell him?

Kind of.

It's kind of obvious.

He's not stupid.

When did the rot set in?

When did Alex start to seem not that bad after all?

Was it the night I described Wendy as-

And she's a bit dizzy.

In front of her friends?

Was it my lack of enthusiasm

for this piece of contemporary dance?

Maybe I was too clingy

- Hiya! - Oh!

Christ!

Or just too laid-back.

Hey, come on!

It's starting!

Quick.

Or maybe I never really stood any bloody chance

in the first place.

Would you like some wine?

I don't mind.

Do you?

Whatever you want.

Either way is fine by me.

I agree.

So, should we have it or not?

Well, I don't think I'll have any.

After five dates with Olive,

I still knew almost nothing about her.

What kind of books do you like?

Oh, I like, um, James Joyce,

Henry James, John Kennedy Toole.

I developed new personalities.

Do you like your job?

I think all jobs are pretty crappy.

Personalities based on what I thought she might like.

What do you like to do at the weekends?

Oh, well, I run Saturday mornings, and I,

well, I have to see some nature.

Right.

But I couldn't tell who she was.

One minute, she'd say-

I think there's nothing wrong

with being emotionally vulnerable.

And the next-

People are such wimps.

Had she liked any

of the places we'd been together?

Did she like me?

I had no idea what she wanted.

Do you think two people

should live solely for one another?

In most cases.

Was your childhood difficult?

In parts.

Have you ever been truly, truly in love?

It felt like it, but I think I was deceiving myself.

Okay, so what's your favorite color?

Orange.

Ah.

Dessert, madam?

Oh.

What do you think, the chocolate or caramel?

I just love chocolate, don't you?

I can't understand people who don't like chocolate.

That one, please.

Sir?

Well, it's only a mild chocolate allergy.

It shouldn't be too much of a problem.

You'll just have to give him something else for Easter.

Perfect.

Did Olive like me any more because I lied?

I mean, why had I been attracted to her?

Exactly.

It had nothing to do with her interest in chocolate

or James Joyce.

When I originally told Olive-

No, it's all right.

I'll drop you home.

it wasn't loaded with significance.

I better get off, then.

Yeah.

But with a quarter of a mile

to go before 6 Liverpool Mews,

it seemed monumental.

At some point, one of us would have to define the situation.

But the risks were high.

What are you doing?

Everything would change,

the end of hidden signs, encoded speech.

Have you ever been truly, truly in love?

But how to go about it?

Maybe I should propose the metaphorical cup of coffee

Or just leap straight in.

In the end,

the double chocolate cake made the decision for me.

One of the world's most extreme rides,

the roller coaster.

Highest drops, most loops.

Oh, go on!

Yeah, it's supposed to represent

the two months you spent with Rhona.

Let me tell you, most people feel sick

when they get off.

Why are they in shoes?

As my next girlfriend's influence

spread across my flat, one thing was clear,

Rhona and I were very different.

And to begin with, I rather liked

each new exotic addition she added to my life.

But at some point, we would have to deal with the fact

that our tastes were not the same.

I'm back!

I've got to show you something.

I've got to show you what I bought today.

I could have bought the whole shop.

They have such amazing things there.

You should have seen the boots they had.

Oh, I'm going to wear them every day.

Don't you just love them?

Fine leather caresses the ankle.

The heel gives a perfect balance

between functionality and style.

This upturned toe has a remarkable way

of lengthening and flattering the leg.

And I'm loving these pin tucks

that lead you through to this jaunty bow,

making this a beautiful shoe.

Yeah, and you forgot to mention

they're fucking horrible!

How could this person,

the person I had spent three months

feeling so in touch with, be in such raptures

about the world's most unattractive shoes?

If I'm honest,

other differences between us had started to appear.

Why did Rhona insist on walking everywhere?

Why did she always complain in restaurants?

Excuse me.

Why did she never have more than six hours sleep?

Why did she find "Patch Adams" so funny?

Why did we have to have sex

at every conceivable opportunity?

Why, oh, why was she so bloody clumsy?

It was like Rhona was a wonderful symphony orchestra,

but one or two of the players were slightly off-key.

Do you fancy going to a club?

Okay, or we could go to the cinema.

No, you're right.

Let's go to a club.

Those shoes came to symbolize our differences

and the need to gently accommodate

each other's bum notes.

Unfortunately, that isn't what happened.

Y-You don't like them.

Frankly, I don't.

Why not?

I just don't like that kind of shoe.

It looks like a pelican.

It's elegant.

No, it's not.

Yes, it is.

Look at the heel and the bow.

I think you're on your own with this one, Rhona.

You don't know anything about fashion.

That may be, but I know a horrible shoe when I see one.

It's not horrible.

You're jealous that I bought a new pair of shoes.

I'm just trying to tell you how I feel.

I really don't think they're suitable for the party tonight.

Oh, well, that's great,

'cause that's why I fucking bought them.

- Well, so, wear them. - Now I can't, can I?

Why not?

Because a minute ago

you told me I looked like a pelican wearing them.

Why did I have to tell her?

Why couldn't I have lied?

Haven't you got any milk?

There's some in the back.

Hang on a second.

A few days earlier,

I noticed Mr. Paul, our local newsagent,

was wearing thick gray socks and brown leather sandals.

They were spectacularly ugly, but did I say-

You're not gonna keep wearing those sandals,

are you, Mr. Paul?

Why not?

Well, because they're disgusting

and, frankly, rather offensive.

Of course I didn't,

because I'm not in love with Mr. Paul.

So, why did I spare his feelings and not Rhona's?

I suppose we could have

just politely tolerated each other's differences.

But, you see, I didn't want to end up like my parents.

Good night, dear.

Good night.

Why can't you keep your opinions to yourself?

Because I care about you, Rhona.

Someone has to tell you

when you've bought a pair of disgusting shoes.

Anyway, why do you care about what I think?

Because I want you to like them.

I bought them hoping you'd like them,

and now you're telling me I look like an alien wearing them.

Why does everything I do always have to be wrong?

Oh, come on.

Don't throw that one at me.

You know that's not true.

Yes, it is.

You don't even like my shoes.

Well, I like almost everything else.

So, why can't you forget about the shoes?

Because you deserve better.

Well, okay, okay.

Maybe I deserve better than you.

What?

I'll spare you the full melodrama.

Suffice to say,

she didn't eventually wear them to the party

because we never went to the party.

In fact, we never went to any parties ever again.

I know what you mean, pal.

Those shoes were shocking.

I should have lied.

No, no, you tell her how it is, hard-core.

Keep it real.

Would you have lied?

Yeah.

Excuse the mess.

The rest of the flat's really just for show.

This is where I really live.

And meet guppy, my first love.

Oh, oh, the shoes.

What?

What's wrong?

Well, what do you mean?

Well, you're not into it.

What's up?

I can't help thinking.

Well, don't think.

Just get on with it.

I'm trying to,

but all sorts of stuff's spinning 'round my head.

Look, mate, take my advice.

You've just got to switch this off.

Do you think I'd be able to do this

if I thought about it?

Huh?

Do you?

Yeah?

Yeah, I know, but it's all a bit-

- A bit quick. - Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, a little bit too easy?

Suppose.

And if this was so easy for you,

how many other-

Yeah, well, I don't want to think about that,

but I can't help it.

Well, then you've got to stop.

What?

Yeah, yeah, you've got to stop immediately,

tell her that you respect her far too much

to continue having sex with her.

Really?

Of course not, you Muppet!

Just enjoy it.

Thanks, Guppy.

Don't mention it.

And find a middle-age woman in a grubby basement-

I'm not middle-aged.

You said I was beautiful and,

and still a spring chicken yesterday.

You are, well, you are fragrant.

That was yesterday.

But the lighting helps today.

Today, ah, yes,

as I come blinkingly into the daylight.

I'm asking this morning, we're asking,

"When did the fire alarm go off?"

Was your whole block evacuated?

The whole block.

Well, we all stuck our heads out of our, of our flats,

going, "is this for real, or is this just rehearsal?"

When did a fire alarm go off

at an inappropriate moment in your life?

It may be in the middle of a west end show.

Maybe at a musical.

You know, you can leave some of your stuff here.

It has been nearly six months now.

To begin with, my old leather bag

had been just a quirky character trait.

God, what have you got in there?

But eventually it began to symbolize

my deliberate attempts

to keep my relationship with Natalie unclear.

As soon as I let it go,

I knew that a few of my clothes and my toothbrush

would take up permanent residence in her flat.

Every morning, I would repack it as though this was

the last time we would ever see each other.

It's all right.

They need washing, anyway.

Your toothbrush doesn't.

And this inevitably led on

to a discussion about...

And I had very definite opinions about that.

You just need to be a bit patient with me, that's all.

I just need time to adjust.

The truth was, it felt like Natalie and I

were quickly melting into one person.

And frankly, I found that a little disturbing.

She now freely used my-

- Perfect. - And my-

How dare you?

In general conversation.

I acquired Natalie's need for total darkness in the bedroom.

She copied my way of folding newspapers.

I took to wandering 'round things

to think a problem through.

And she acquired a taste for lying on the carpet.

We even developed our own secret language

based on our joint history,

a language of mutual references

that no one else would understand.

I did a bit of a ming last night.

But all these common incidents,

like the accountant on the bus that told us-

I always keep a gun in my bag.

Look, it's an accountant!

Created our own little world

that brought us closer together.

And soon my old leather bag

was powerless to prevent us dissolving into one.

Don't you think we should walk your grandad's dog?

He's not an accountant.

He's an IT Consultant from Leicester.

A ming vase, emperor ming from "Flash Gordon."

Maybe he just smells.

His granddad's dog died over six months ago,

so what is it?

Well, keep trying.

The answer's got to be out there somewhere.

- Hiya! - Hi.

Sorry we're a bit late.

Oh, don't worry.

I'm running behind, myself.

You must be Duncan.

- Hi. - I'm Gemma.

Come on in.

Thank you.

I'd have loved to have been an architect.

I didn't have the concentration, though.

Have you done anything I would have seen?

Oh, I doubt it, unless you've been

to one particular restaurant on Charles Street.

Which one?

Choo-Choo.

No!

I love Choo-Choo!

You did?

No.

Well, sort of.

Have you been to the toilet.

With the glove!

I love that!

And it has that great big, great big shiny-

Well, that's not me, either, but,

but the corridor in the area around the fire escape-

- Uh-huh. - Well, that's me.

I'm hoping they have a fire.

Then my work will really get noticed.

I'm gonna start one next time I'm there.

Could you?

I'd appreciate that.

Mm, no problem.

All right, so I fell in love with Gemma

just a little bit that night,

watching her talk, blowing out her candle,

messing about in the kitchen, brushing hair from her face.

I began to consider alternative love lives

I could have lived.

- Hiya. - Hi.

Sorry we're a bit late.

No, it's fine.

I'm running behind a bit, myself.

In city streets or busy restaurants,

I'm often aware of the millions of women

whose lives are doomed to remain a mystery to me.

Seeing these women fills me with regret.

Normally it only takes me 20 minutes,

but it's being fixed, you see.

But I want to be back in Colchester by the weekend.

If I don't get my ticket now,

I'm gonna have to stand on the train.

No, she's looking much better now.

She's been ill for almost a year.

I would feel momentarily sad

that I would never get to hear the rest of these stories.

What was it about Gemma

that evoked such confused feelings in me?

Feelings that my love for Natalie didn't seem to resolve.

So, did you fall in love with her?

What?

I saw you with her.

Who?

Gemma.

Of course not!

She's just your type.

No, she's not.

So, what was I feeling so guilty about?

Had my feelings towards Natalie changed?

Something wrong?

Do you not like me today?

I like you less.

Really?

Much less?

No, not that much.

Out of 10?

Today I should say six and a half?

No, 6 three quarters, perhaps?

How about you with me?

Oh, I'd say about minus three.

Although, um, it might have been a 12 and a half last night.

Often I couldn't tell

whether my feelings towards Natalie

had anything to do with her at all.

Here, for instance, was I furious with Natalie

for making a racket while I tried to watch the news?

Or did it have more to do with losing the contract

for Tooting Bec tube station?

Wankers!

Or was I still disturbed by a comment

I had overheard Natalie say at a party?

You can't spend forever looking for the right person.

You've got to get on with your life.

On the face of it,

Natalie and I were a perfect match,

but in reality, something was missing.

That mysterious, indefinable spark just wasn't there.

To stabilize our feelings for each other,

we would often project a future for ourselves,

imagining we were a couple of oldies

with stacks of grandchildren

Or find houses we both liked and decorate them in our heads.

We tried to make ourselves believe in a future together,

a future that, deep down,

both of us knew would never happen.

And so, in a pattern

that we've now seen repeated many times over,

another ride representing another failed relationship

comes to an end.

God, what a loser.

Are you getting on?

Yeah, okay.

Which brings us to the next stop on our tour,

an area devoted to a rather difficult period

in Duncan's life.

This landscape represents Duncan's life

in the second half of this year, a bleak and barren time,

devoid of any companionship or happiness,

six months of takeaway pizzas and video rentals.

Perhaps some of you

might like to take a quiet moment of reflection.

It's something that many of our guests like

to do at this point.

But let's not dwell here for too long,

as an area of the park devoted to the new year

is just around the corner,

and who could have guessed what that would bring?

Visitors of Duncan World, today I have the great pleasure

of opening this theme park's latest ride.

Higher, faster,

more exciting than anything you've experienced before.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,

I give you

The Gemma.

Hey, excuse me!

The alarm's gone off.

Can I check your bags, please?

No, I've paid for everything in my bags.

No, I'm not saying you haven't,

but I need to check your bags.

Maybe there's a tag or something.

There, you see?

Socks still got the tag on it.

You got a receipt for these?

No, I didn't put those in my bag.

What, are you saying you didn't pay for them?

No, I'm saying I didn't put those in my bag.

I paid for my food.

I just literally came straight from the checkout.

I'm not gonna have time to steal socks, am I?

Why are you losing control, madam?

I'm asking to see a receipt for the socks.

You're joking, aren't you?

Gemma.

Are you all right?

Uh, I think so.

- I need to see a receipt. - Oh, come on.

You don't seriously think she stole those, do you?

Sir, sorry, I don't meant to be rude-

No, no, it's only your job.

I was at your party about six months ago.

Hey.

First of all,

what would she want with a pair of men's socks?

Well, I don't know, sir, maybe, uh, maybe her boyfriend.

Well, how do you know that?

Gemma, do you need a pair of men's socks?

Do you have a boyfriend?

No.

So we're all just wasting our time.

So, how are you?

I'm fine.

Thank you.

- So, where's your car? - It's just down here.

So, you still designing fire exits?

- Oh, wow, you remember! - Yeah.

I'm your biggest fan.

Your emergency corridor is one of my favorites.

Oh, really?

Yeah, well, they let me do a bit more now, you know.

I'm designing a health center.

Aw, shame.

I really thought you'd found your medium there.

Yeah, do you think?

Thanks very much.

Isn't all this a bit premature?

I'm sorry?

Well, she might not be very interested.

Does she really fancy you?

Mere details, friends.

Yeah, you know, what's to say that, um,

you know, you won't make exactly

the same mistakes as before?

Yeah!

Ah, but this time things are gonna be different.

I'm going into it with a whole new attitude.

I'm not gonna let this one go.

Right, okay.

I'm gonna pay attention to every tiny detail.

I'll anticipate her problems.

I'm gonna make use of all of this experience.

Oh, do you think?

Yeah, I just found people were too unappreciative

during an emergency evacuation.

They don't take the time to appreciate the craftsmanship.

That's exactly what I've always felt.

Please don't tell me this is it.

Hey!

Do not be rude about my car.

I love my little car, all right?

No, no, it's, it's lovely.

It's just not much of a getaway vehicle.

And if you're gonna plan daring sock robberies,

you really ought to think the whole thing through.

Where were you headed?

I was shopping.

Where?

In the supermarket.

Oh.

Where's your shopping?

They didn't have what I wanted.

Which was?

An avocado.

I really needed an avocado.

What, like this one?

You put those socks in my bag, didn't you?

Now, is that important, really?

I mean, surely the most important thing

is that you go out with me.

Blimey, you're forward.

Not really.

I'm just desperate.

And this time, it was different.

T-minus 10, nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four, three, two, one.

Liftoff.

This was someone I could imagine

spending the rest of my life with.

We seemed able to accommodate each other's differences.

And there wasn't some old relationship

waiting in the wings, ready to be restarted.

I was walking past Jigsaw today.

Mm?

There's this really nice jumper in the window.

Great.

It's lovely.

Why are you telling me?

Shut up.

'Cause I was walking past Bang & Olufsen the other day-

Yeah, but it's not your birthday, is it?

Why, whose is it?

You are such an idiot.

I picked up the jumper on my way back from work.

But as I was filling out the accompanying card,

I realized that this was my first non-intimidating chance

to legitimately tell Gemma that I loved her.

I had wanted to tell her plenty of times.

I love you.

I can't hear you!

You see, Gemma was suspicious of words.

Yeah, but people can talk problems into existence,

you know, problems that aren't even there

in the first place.

Rock, paper, scissors!

Rock, paper, scissors!

- When I was 12 years old- - Mm-hmm.

I fell madly in love

with this boy in a holiday camp called Giles.

Rock, paper, scissors!

Rock, paper, scissors!

And we ended up walking around this lake together.

Do you want to sit down?

It was, like the first time that I'd held a boy's hand.

And I got really emotional.

And for some reason, I decided to tell him that.

This is the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Which turned out to be a big mistake.

Gemma love Giles!

Gemma love Giles!

I don't trust words.

They always spoil things.

Maybe a pullover was enough of a sign of love,

a message in knitwear code.

But even if I told her,

would she actually know what I meant?

Come to think of it,

does anyone know what "love" means?

If I told Gemma that I had a stomachache,

a red car, or a bunch of daffodils,

then I know she would understand,

more or less.

Naturally, our perceptions might differ slightly.

But love is so ambiguous

that it could mean completely different things to us.

Some people would never have fallen in love

if they had not heard of love.

He could be right, you know.

I mean, who's to say

there's any such thing as love in the first place?

For instance, the manu tribe of New Guinea

don't even have a word for it.

And the Chinese traditionally have scant regard

for romantic love in their culture.

Nevertheless, the manager of our local Chinese restaurant

was delighted to take our booking.

Maybe the feeling in my stomach wasn't love at all

but a viral infection

or food poisoning

or a coronary attack.

S.M. Greenfield, in an article in Sociological Quarterly,

writes that love is kept alive by modern capitalism,

only in order to-

"Motivate individuals,

where there is no other means of motivating them,

to occupy the positions husband/wife and wife/mother

and form nuclear families that are essential

not only for reproduction and socialization

but also to maintain the existing arrangement

for distributing consumer goods and services,

and, in general, to keep the social system

in proper working order

and thus maintaining it as a going concern."

In the end, I decided that a card

featuring cats and dogs on a bicycle

wasn't the best place to first declare my love.

I would do it properly.

I would tell her myself.

Oh, god, I feel so much better.

I must have been starving.

I've been so depressed all day.

Why?

Because I have this thing about birthdays.

Mm-hmm.

They always remind me of death and false jollity.

Do you know where I was this time last year?

Nope.

Where?

Being taken out to dinner by my horrible aunt.

I mean, it was, like, awful.

I kept having to go to the bathroom to hide.

I was so upset that, like, it was my birthday,

and the only one who'd invited me out was my aunt,

who couldn't stop telling me

she didn't understand how a nice girl like me

didn't have a man in her life.

So it's probably not a bad thing that I ran into you.

There was my chance,

but it just seemed too obvious, too corny to say

I love you.

The words had lost their power,

worn out by a million soap operas.

I love you.

But I was determined to say something.

So I cowardly turned to alcohol for help

Until, at quarter to 12:00, I found myself staring

at a complimentary miniature marshmallow.

And for some reason,

it seemed to perfectly sum up how I felt about Gemma.

I have something very important to tell you.

Okay.

No, it's very important.

Yes?

You ready?

Yeah.

I marshmallow you.

That's the sweetest thing

anyone's ever said to me.

I think she understood.

Oh, by the way, she was delighted with the jumper.

But I should have got the purple one.

The thing about declaring your love for someone is,

from that point on, everything changes.

For me, everything seemed so much clearer.

For Gemma...

Isn't it wonderful?

- Isn't it? - But is it?

Shush.

Don't spoil it.

No, you're right.

It is wonderful.

I couldn't have imagined a place like this existing.

It seems so cut off from everything else.

It's like a paradise no one's bothered to ruin.

I could spend the rest of my life here.

So could I.

We could live here together.

I'd tend to the goats.

You'd handle the olives.

We'd write books, paint.

Ow!

Are you all right?

Yeah.

I am now.

I don't know what happened,

but I just got this, like, terrible pain in my head.

It was like an awful throbbing or something.

It's probably nothing.

Ah, no!

Shit!

Here, let me feel.

No, Duncan,

you're not gonna be able to feel anything.

It's inside.

I know, but I'll empathize.

Oh, god.

I better go inside and lie down.

Probably just the height or the traveling or something.

I'll go inside.

You, you stay out here.

I'll be fine.

In actual fact, Gemma had a habit of doing this.

She seemed incapable

of enjoying pleasurable experiences as they happened.

A couple of weeks ago,

we'd spent the afternoon

on my work partner Will's houseboat.

Our friends were there.

The food was delicious.

Gemma looked beautiful.

But for some reason, she had to find fault.

Are you cold?

No.

No, I'm all right.

Have you seen my shoes?

Uh, yeah.

Oh!

We'd both been looking forward to the meal for weeks,

and on the way home, she told me-

That was lovely.

But at the time, she just couldn't accept it.

It was like she could only enjoy things

in anticipation or as memories.

I don't know what it is, Will.

I just can't quite put my finger on it.

Don't worry.

It's bound to go through phases.

I just feel like something's wrong.

I don't know what, but ever since we came back from Spain,

I've been noticing things.

And I don't just mean in the bedroom.

I mean everywhere.

Like?

Nothing I can put my finger on directly.

I mean, all right, all right, here's one thing.

She likes a different cereal from me.

But because I spend a lot of time at her place,

she usually buys the cereal I like

so we can eat breakfast together.

But then, all of a sudden last week,

she stops buying it and says-

It's far too expensive.

I don't want to come to any conclusions.

I'm just noticing, hey!

Which parts of these designs are yours, then, Will?

Uh, well, really, it's a collaboration, Duncan and me.

Oh, don't be so modest.

I know you did all the interior design.

I love the way you've used brick and metal.

Why can't you do more stuff like that?

Well, my work's more structural, not quite so obvious.

Well, I think Will's work's great,

incredible, in fact.

I'm so glad I've seen it.

It's great to hear you say so, Gemma.

No, I am so impressed.

I mean, your work is exactly the kind of thing

that I'm interested in,

and I think it's such a pity

that more architects aren't trying to do what you're doing.

So I imagine it can't be easy, right?

It's not that easy, but I've always been taught to,

um, go with the things that I believe in.

I work on projects that emit a sort of energy from them.

Yeah.

I think I see what you mean, actually.

I was working on a project in Monterrey,

and, I mean, there you can really get a sense

of what you can achieve by using different sorts of stone,

as well as some steel and aluminum,

about working with the landscape instead of against it.

Don't you think we'd better be, um-

What?

Well, it seems to be winding down.

Oh.

Or maybe we should go for a drink.

A bit late, isn't it?

Oh, come on.

Well, Will anywhere be open?

Will, do you fancy a drink?

- Uh- - You can't say no.

Okay.

Right, that's it, then.

We're gonna go for a drink.

I'm pretty tired, to be honest.

Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow, then.

I know this amazing bar in the West End.

Have you been to the Monkey Bar?

I've heard of it, yeah.

Oh, my gosh, you're gonna love it.

It, like, has these huge screens on either si-

Yeah, so, will I see you later, then?

Yes.

Don't worry.

I'll call you as soon as I get home, okay?

Anyway, as I was saying,

so, it has, like, these huge screens-

Of course, I had no problem

with Gemma and will going off for a drink without me,

no problem at all.

I was absolutely fine with it.

Hi, it's me.

I can't get to the phone.

Leave a message.

Completely okay.

Over the moon, in fact.

Hi, it's me.

I can't get to the phone.

Leave a message.

I was just glad that my best friend

and my girlfriend were getting on so well.

Really, really well.

Hi, it's me.

I can't get to the phone.

Leave a message.

Yeah, but people can talk problems into existence,

you know, problems that aren't

even there in the first place.

Uh, you can drop me anywhere around here, if that's-

Okay, will this do, just-

That's great, yeah.

Well, thanks.

That was lovely.

It was, wasn't it?

But I should get going, Will.

Duncan's gonna be worried sick.

Ah, sure.

Well, I'll see you around.

Bye.

Hi, it's me.

I can't get to the phone.

Leave a message.

Hiya.

Gemma's alibi went like this,

she'd gone to that bar in Soho

and stayed there chatting till late,

by which time she'd had quite a bit to drink.

So she decided that it would be easier

to stop off in Bloomsbury

than travel all the way back to Islington.

- Hi. - I'm so sorry.

It's okay.

So she stayed the night

at her girlfriend Paula's house.

She had wanted to call me but didn't want to wake me up.

After all, had I not said

I'm pretty tired, to be honest.

All perfectly feasible.

But then she blew it.

Why are you making that face?

It's the one you like, isn't it?

Why had Gemma gone to all the trouble

of getting me my favorite cereal?

What was she feeling so guilty about?

After all, I thought three cereal oat bran was-

It's far too expensive.

Surely this proved she was covering up.

Polygraph's clean.

But she's lying.

She'll walk.

Well, what about the cereal?

Circumstantial, my friend.

It'll never stick.

I just know it, though.

Did you speak to Paula?

The whole thing's airtight.

She was there all night.

You must be able to do something.

Sounds to me like you want her to cheat on you.

Of course not.

Then why look for problems?

Maybe you're the one who's looking for a way out.

What?

perhaps you don't love her anymore.

Perhaps you don't want to tell her.

Is that right, Duncan?

Now, hang on a minute.

Are you not man enough to tell her?

- No, it's- - No, I thought not.

No, I mean I do love her.

I'm not trying to break it up.

I want it to work.

Then what's the problem?

The lady clearly feels bad about not ringing you.

She's trying to make things up, and what do you do?

You make her feel worse.

She doesn't deserve this!

What kind of an animal are you?

Okay, okay, so I'm wrong!

I made a mistake!

Damn right.

So, what shall I do?

What, you need us to tell you?

Don't.

Not now.

I said once already, "not now."

Right then, I knew it.

If I didn't act quickly, I'd lose her.

Look what I got today.

Oh.

I had planned the perfect weekend,

a first-class trip to Paris,

our own chauffeur on standby for three days,

an executive suite in a five-star hotel

with all the comforts and amenities

you could possibly imagine.

It even had a balcony with stunning views across the city.

I pulled every string I could to get a window seat

in a three-star Michelin restaurant.

I somehow managed to get two tickets to her favorite opera.

I even booked a twilight trip down the Seine,

with music, champagne, the works.

And you know what?

From the minute we arrived,

I knew it was going to be a fucking disaster.

Have you got the key?

Uh, no, you said you had it.

No, I didn't.

I don't have the key.

You've just locked us out.

I haven't locked us out.

I just shut the door thinking you had the key

because the key wasn't where I left it.

Well, that was really silly of you

because I don't have it, either,

so now we're locked out, thanks to you.

Thanks to me.

For god's sake, stop blaming me

for the fact that it was you who forgot the key.

I had nothing to do with the key.

I'm sorry.

I did have it all along.

Wow.

That's it.

Duncan.

Duncan, don't be so silly!

Where are you going?

Duncan?

Duncan!

Childish, I know, but I felt I deserved a sulk.

I'd put up with so many of Gemma's.

Wasn't it my turn?

Successful Sulking, a guide.

One, the sulk must be sparked by some wrong-doing.

The more trivial, the better.

Two, the punishment inflicted by the sulk must be

disproportionately large in relation

to the original offense.

Three, beware of making sulks too short

and therefore not allowing sufficient guilt

to build up in the sulked.

Four, the sulk should never be

about the incident that sparked it.

For example, for-

I'm angry at you for accusing me of losing the key.

Read-

I'm angry at you for not loving me anymore.

Five, the sulk should be gauged a success if,

and only if, the sulker has to be talked

out of the sulk by the sulked.

So, you gonna forgive me or what?

Come on.

You know I hate leaving arguments unresolved.

Anyway, we're on holiday.

We're supposed to be enjoying ourselves.

Okay.

We were on our best behavior that night,

trying to avoid tension.

In fact, if you had watched the scene

from the maître d's point of view,

we would have seemed like the classic romantic couple.

Little would you know, however,

that our relationship had just entered a dark new phase,

a phase called romantic terrorism.

You see, my sulk had been little more

than an attempt to force Gemma to love me.

Dialogue had failed.

Is something wrong?

No.

Should there be?

I just thought you might want

to talk about things.

About what things?

About us.

You mean about you.

No, I mean about us.

I had to break the deadlock in our romantic negotiations,

so on the way back to the airport,

I flirted with a woman we met at the hotel.

It was just an attempt to make Gemma jealous,

but she called my bluff by acting unconcerned.

There will be no negotiation with terrorists of any kind.

She wouldn't allow me the pleasure

of a jealous reaction.

No.

Quoi?

I may have scored a minor victory with my afternoon sulk,

but it was a hollow victory

because the romantic terrorist is doomed to be disappointed.

You must love me.

I'll force you to love me

by sulking at you and making you feel jealous.

But if you force me, it will never be spontaneous love

and therefore never genuine love.

Okay, let her go.

Are you all right?

You're too good for me.

What?

I said you're too good for me.

What?

Why?

Because you are.

What are you saying this for, Gemma?

I don't know.

I don't know what this is.

If anything, I'd say it was the other way 'round.

You're always the one to make an effort

when there's a problem.

You're just more self-deprecating

- about yourself and- - Please stop.

Why?

Because I've been seeing Will.

You've what?

I've been seeing Will, okay?

What does "seeing" mean?

Seeing Will?

Oh, for god's sake, I've been to bed with Will!

Would madam like a beverage or a light snack?

Um, no, thank you.

- Nothing at all? - No, I'm all right.

- How about for sir? - No, thank you.

I can't believe this.

Tell me it's a joke, a terrible, horrible joke.

You've been to bed with Will?

When?

How could you?

I'm sorry.

I really am.

I just, I'm sorry.

Oh, Gemma, please don't cry.

We could talk about this.

Here, just take this handkerchief.

It'll be okay.

It will, I promise.

Well, ladies and gentlemen,

I've just turned on the seatbelt signs,

as we will be landing shortly.

Let me take this opportunity

to thank you for flying with British Airways today.

We hope you've had a very pleasant flight

and will choose to fly with us again very soon.

I'm sorry for offering you my confusion.

I'm sorry for ruining our trip to Paris.

I'm sorry for the melodrama of it all.

You were so sweet to me.

That's what made me cry all the more.

Other men would have told me to go to hell, but you didn't,

and that's what made it so very difficult.

There's still so much holding me to you,

but I realize I cannot continue

to deny you the love you deserve.

It would be unfair.

It would destroy us both.

I will miss you.

Nothing can take away what we've shared.

I simply don't wish to continue hurting you,

and I couldn't bear for it to slowly get stale.

I don't know where I'll go from here.

I'll probably spend time on my own over Christmas

or go to my parents'.

Don't blame will.

Don't be unfair.

He was only a symptom, not the cause of what happened.

Excuse this messy letter.

Its confusion will probably be a reminder

of the way I was with you.

Forgive me.

You were too good for me.

I hope we can stay friends.

All my love, Gemma.

It seemed to be the most sensible thing to do.

Of course, people will say-

You'll get over it.

Pick yourself up.

Dust yourself off.

Get yourself back out there.

People drift apart.

You're young.

You'll find somebody really, really lovely

who will adore you.

It's like a bus, one is going, the other one is coming.

But this was important.

This wasn't something you just shrug off.

My suicide would show the world once and for all

that love is a deadly serious matter.

I would become a martyr, a martyr to love.

Is there something wrong?

Yes.

Oh, god.

Yes.

Oh, all right.

So it didn't end like that.

I had actually only taken

20 effervescent vitamin "C" tablets,

which was lucky, because it suddenly dawned on me

how unsatisfying suicide is.

All I'd wanted to do was make a point,

but why make such a scene

if you're not around to witness the result,

if you don't get to see the reactions

of those you're trying to affect?

Commit suicide, and you're too dead to get pleasure from it.

And the award goes jointly to Duncan Anderson and Will Dot

for the Hackney Health Center.

Uh,

my, uh, work partner, Will,

can't be here this evening

because he ran off with my girlfriend.

No, he really did.

Thank you!

For months, I saw her wherever I went.

Anything could trigger it, tomato paste,

a pile of cushions,

rain on Hammersmith Bridge.

Some days, I would convince myself

that Gemma and I were still together,

that any moment, I could pick up that phone,

and she'd be there.

Hello?

Hi, it's me.

Do you want to meet up?

I would make myself forget

that she had now settled with another man in Battersea.

But then I'd find her hairbrush down the back of the sofa,

and the horrible reality would hit me again.

Then, one day, I drove past that supermarket,

and you know what?

It was a good minute and a half

before I remembered the link.

Gemma was beginning to fade.

I became able to think of this area

as not just the Gemma district, but as Islington again.

I threw myself into work.

Now, obviously, this is a very ambitious-

How refreshing to think about just me for once,

about what I want.

This is the future of urban living.

No longer did I have to worry about

whether she would like this film.

Okay!

Or what time she had to be wherever in the morning.

In fact, who needed this love thing, anyway?

Hadn't it just brought me heartache and anguish?

After all, I'm not the first one

to try and make sense of love.

There's been centuries of analysts, preachers,

gurus, and writers who've tried,

and did they find a solution,

an answer to the misery of most people's emotional lives?

So, one day, I decided

I wasn't going to play this game anymore.

I didn't understand the rules,

and the injuries were just too painful.

Hi.

And then I met Angela.