Original subtitles

Tickets this way for the Chatsworth Express.

Oi!

Come and watch pikeys making a mess of lives

they were give by him upstairs.

And kids they're convinced aren't actually theirs.

Wicked!

Piss off.

What sounds on Earth could ever replace kids needing

money or wives in your face.

Because this, people reckon--

and me included-- is why pubs and drugs

were kindly invented to calm us all down,

to stop us going mental.

These are Chatsworth Estate's basic essentials.

We are worth every penny for grinding your axes.

While you sit on our head, but you pay the taxes.

Imagine a Britain without Chatsworth Buccaneers

who'd cum on your face for the price of beer, eh?

Make poverty history.

Cheaper drugs now!

Make poverty history!

Cheaper drugs now!

Affairs of the heart are troublesome to adults.

They're complex and carry lots of baggage and consequences--

big and small.

Will you fucking lie at peace.

It's the one area of life where

adults get to behave irrationally

like kids on a sugar rush--

tears and tantrums, falling out and not speaking.

Secrets and lies.

Makes you wonder whether it was worth it;

if it wouldn't be better to stay on your own.

Be a priest or a Trappists monk or something.

Live apart from society.

If only there was a superior being I could believe in.

Where's Liam?

Well, he's going to be late!

Liam! Oh, don't get up.

I'll fix his toast.

Hello!

Have you seen the size of me?

You didn't wake me.

Got a study day.

Oh God, he looks like a refugee from the 1980s.

There's nothing wrong with him.

Oh well, the fashion police might beg to differ, Debbie.

Why is she laughing?

Because her hormones have affected her brain.

Go get your bag.

Scar him for life sending him to school

with trousers like that.

Well, they're going to have do him til the end of term.

Unless you have a contribution to make.

Oh, I forgot-- he's my job just like everything

else around him.

Developing a victim complex, are we Debbie?

I'm knackered.

Well, you ought to trying sleeping next to the heffalump

over there and then see how knackered you are.

I'm cooking a baby.

Which forces you to kick the fuck out of me in my sleep,

does it?

Wake me up for dinner.

Christ, more meat on the butcher's pencil, Carl.

Got no clean shirts.

Come on, Debs.

I'm seeing Tracey Kelvin later.

We've got two possibilities then, aren't we, Carl?

Either I've washed, dried, ironed them,

and then hid them somewhere so you can't find them.

Or alternatively, since you should

be able to get off your ass and wash your own shirts by now,

it's still in the washing basket.

Which do you think it is?

Well, if you didn't stay up half the night

texting your mates, you might not

be so touchy in the morning.

So did she wash the shirts or not?

Jocks-- I hate them.

How come the filth are all over us like a rash?

What have we done?

Fuck all.

Somebody's feeding them information.

I mean shortbread.

What's that about?

Biggest score in six fucking months.

And we couldn't shift a vitamin C tablet if there

was a plague of rickets.

Do you reckon it's them Jocks that have

been selling them out in pubs?

I know it's those tight fisted,

skirt wearing, Braveheart watching Scottish fuckers.

Anonymous phone tips to Inspector Plod, hmm!

They've no morals up there, you know?

That's why we kicked them out of Ireland

in the sixth century.

Not like they got sell by date though, is it?

Pills.

All of our petty cash is tied up in those pills,

you skidmark.

We are Stony fucking broke!

Braveheart me ass!

And mother's in there cooking like it's going out of fashion.

Useless fucking grassing haggis eating Scottish!

It wouldn't be a plague of rickets though, would it?

It'll be a plague of crickets like that bloke Jimmy

out of Pinocchio.

One with a top hat.

Pigs have just nicked our Mandy.

She's got Katie with her. - What for?

I haven't got a clue.

Two minutes ago down the road. - Mom!

The cops have nicked our Mandy. - Mickey!

No!

Bastards!

It burns!

I think that's upside down.

What the fuck?

Anything?

You?

Didn't stop her shinning a torch up

me crack for 10 minutes though.

Believe me, there are some sites better left unseen.

Oh, that's gross.

Ew, rank.

Hasn't she got a nappy on?

CSI Chatsworth here wanted to inspect it.

Another feast for the eyes.

Well, we should get one on her before--

Haven't got a spare, have I?

Was only popping down the shop.

We'll give you a hand putting--

Don't bother.

Quicker if I do it meself.

Stay there, Katie.

OK.

I-I'm sorry about this.

We got a tip off.

Get better information then.

It's fucking harassment.

She's soaked.

Oh, you dropped--

Oh, me baby! How is he?

Not even third degree burns.

I've had worst off Swan Vestas.

I got to keep this cream on to stop it blistering.

Because he's worth it.

Shut it, you.

Have some consideration, Shane.

Wasn't me that threw a pan of pasta

sauce over his.

And what's that suppose to mean?

You calling me a bad mother?

Mimi

"Mimi," what?

He was having go, weren't you?

Wasn't he?

God's sake, fucking coppers.

Don't let them get to you.

Sitting there all morning.

She gets a rush, I'm making a complaint.

All right, I'm on your side, remember?

I know.

Sorry.

Oh, shit.

Is this what you're looking for?

You must have dropped it on the floor

when you stripped the buggy.

This is a private letter.

I didn't know it was important.

You lot searched my daughter and stuck your fingers up my arse.

You think I was going to run after you

and deliver your mail?

I'm sorry.

You all right?

She were only birth mother.

You're real mum's the one he brought you up.

I was brought up in a care home, there is no real mum.

She was it.

Been looking for her a long time?

Two years.

I was going to start earlier, but

everyone said, no, wait till you're

older til know your own mind.

Now she's fucking dead.

You're not going to give up, are you?

Her Children-- they're your brothers and sisters.

Half.

Half brothers and one sister.

Now, apparently I'm an "unfortunate mistake

from our mother's youth" and shouldn't

"tarnish her good name by forcing myself

upon the family."

But they had a shock at all.

Mother's not six feet and a long lost

son crawls out of the woodwork.

You could be a gold digger for all they know.

Thanks a bunch.

I'd better get back inside.

You can't go in like that.

Your eyes are all puffy.

Here.

How old was she when she had you?

17.

Good Catholic family sent her off

to Ireland to have the baby.

Get it adopted and spare the family shame.

Did you know she's from the Northwest?

Is that why you came over?

Hadn't a clue.

Believe me, it's a shock to the system

to think you're Irish then find out it's

English blood in your veins.

The chip on my shoulder's totally confused.

I just don't get it.

I mean, you're a mother.

How could you give away your own baby?

That's a bit of a bloke's attitude,

if you don't mind me saying.

I was 15 when I fell pregnant with Katie.

Hardest thing I've ever done.

People say they'll support you.

They don't really.

I mean, nappy changing and buying vests, yeah.

But in the important stuff--

in the dark hours when you think you're the worst mum ever,

you resent her because she's changed everything.

Forced you to be old before you time.

There's moments you'd flog her on eBay for the price

of a bottle of cider.

So do you wish you hadn't had her?

Are you mental?

She's the most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me.

The only beautiful thing that's ever happen to me.

How could I do that to me own baby?

You lost your temper.

Everybody does sometimes.

It's like the deed's done before me

brain's had time to process the thought.

Bothers me.

Then let's do something about it.

Nobody's allowed to bother my angel.

Not even you.

Done.

Listen, thanks for taking the time.

Had a gap in me schedule.

Besides, your eyes don't look like you've gone 12

rounds with Ricky Hatton now.

I'm really sorry I opened your letter.

Yeah, yeah.

Funny, but-- well, I'm not.

I'll see you.

A copper?

Shh!

I felt sorry for him, seems like a nice bloke.

What is it with you and men in uniform?

Oh, shut up.

You going to ask him out?

No.

How would that look anyway?

A Maguire and a police officer have

done pictures for the night.

You're finding excuses.

I feel as if my radar is broke after Lip and then Dex.

Don't know what to think.

I don't want to make an arse of meself.

Test the water then.

How?

Well, you've got the world's best buffer in there.

Take her with.

Can't find me trou-

Here.

Try them.

They look worse.

You can see the turn-up a mile off.

Well, I'll iron them then.

Why can't wear them like they were before?

Because you can't, that's all.

There we go.

Are we poor?

What made you ask that?

Nothing.

Just some of the kids at schools said-

We do all right.

We're not any poorer than anyone else.

And it doesn't matter what other people say, OK?

I know.

Come on, Tracey.

It's just a date.

All right, Carl.

Here he comes--

the Great Unwashed.

I need--

I need advice.

It's about sex.

Right.

I'm seeing this girl, Tracey Kelvin,

and she's dead experienced.

You've popped you're cherry though?

Of course I have, but she knows stuff--

loads of stuff.

You've had older women, didn't they teach you how?

Yeah, but they always did stuff to me.

Tracey expects me to do stuff to her.

So you want me to teach you foreplay?

What's that?

I was so angry, I went out to the garage and snapped off--

Every time I have a drink, I run out of excuses--

A slag to her face. My P45 arrived--

Full volume, day and night.

I threw his stereo out the bedroom window.

Mimi, do you have anything to share?

Well, there was the time I hit me husband with me shoe--

a good six-inch heel.

He'd come in seven sheets to the wind every night that week,

and the kids were only small.

I kept them on deliberate--

stilettos like.

So I took a knife and carve my initials

into his back 10 inches high while he was still tied up.

Next time one of my lads hits a ball into his garden,

he handed it back double quick, that's for sure.

If you try taking a deep breath before you act--

Bryan, I've tried everything.

I've tried counting to 10.

I've tried saying a prayer to Saint Clair of Assisi.

I never get past three.

And I always end up going to confession after.

There are other strategies--

problem solving, better communication,

cognitive restructuring.

I'm not a hippie.

I'm talking about empathizing with people.

Putting yourself in their shoes.

I'll give you some materials that might be of help.

Haven't you got immigrant labor to do that for you?

Filling my day with meaningless tasks.

Where you off to?

Just out for a walk.

So have you found them?

I don't see the point.

Well, see you then.

Hey, wait.

I'm due a break.

Do you want to go to the park or something?

Go on, I'll spring for the ice cream.

All right.

If you could have asked your mother one question,

what would it be?

No, I couldn't ask her just one question.

It would have to be a million or none at all.

Like what?

Like, is there a history of heart attacks in the family?

Did she get the life she wanted after she gave me up?

Where did I get this nose?

You could probably sue for the nose.

It's just cruel to lumber a kid with that?

You've got to call them.

I don't think so.

Another lesson you learn when you're brought up in care,

you can't make people accept you.

Weee!

What's for tea, Mum?

Homemade stew.

There's no.

That's because you haven't made it yet.

OK, what's my first lesson?

So what do you normally do?

Shag'em for as long as I can, before--

before, you know?

And that's it?

No, I give them a bit of a rub first.

Went six minutes once--

324 pumps.

You don't build up to it?

You know, like their erogenous zone?

Tits and fanny, yeah?

This Tracey Kelvin better be worth it.

In.

Nobody died.

It would be irrational to get overly

upset about a ruined dinner.

This is cognitive restructuring.

We could attempt to problem solve the reasons why you two

felt it necessary to batter the living

shite out of one another.

What I think's required quiet here

is some positive reinforcement.

So Shane, tell your brother that you love him.

Fuck off.

Tell your brother you love him.

You're not trying to poke a hole in a fence.

But Like you're licking a Bartlett's pear half.

What?

I said how long I've got do it for?

My tongue's knackered.

A bit, like, softer.

Karen, I'm dying of thirst here.

I wish I could help him, that's all.

So help him.

Do something about it.

Get on his good side.

I can't.

It's personal stuff.

I hardly even know him.

Yeah, all right.

Talk yourself out of it.

God forbid you to meet a nice bloke with a good job and not

baggage who's keen on you.

I don't know that he's keen on me.

Yeah, fair point.

Cops are always taken me to the park for ice lollies.

Pint and two Es, Karen.

Oh, you look like a chicken who's just been

told she's got to shit an egg.

Eh, you're a mother.

No, I'm not.

Well, yeah.

Well, you know, you've got all the raw material, don't you?

Do have a-- is there a nesting instinct in you?

Makes you want to kick everyone else out of the homestead

to make room for your chicks?

Oh, has Monica got the sweats?

Oh, the sweats?

"The sweats," was that what you called it?

Grievous bodily harm in any one else's language.

Well, you know the answer is, don't you?

What's that?

Keep your pecker in your pants.

So I said to Bill Roach--

Ken Barlow, of course.

I said, Billy, you want to know what

side your bread's buttered?

Tie them into a long term contract.

I said so what if you're typecast,

you'll have a steady income.

Not many can say that.

I'm knackered, mate.

If there was a book entitled, "All That Men

Know About Women," it'd be completely empty.

She's gone completely off the deep end.

You know she's made us hug each other?

Yeah, like we was poofs or something.

Yeah.

Well, I can see you getting in touch with your feminine side.

Your mother has depths you boys

have never been exposed to. Give her credit.

But, Dad--

I said, give her credit.

Trust me.

She'll be able to help you out.

Belle Carter?

Are you having a laugh?

She was an extra on Corrie for about 10 minutes 30 years ago.

You'd think she was fucking Hamlet

at the Royal Shakespeare.

Got a better idea, have you?

Have you?

You said you wanted help him, and now is your chance.

Go on, she's waiting.

Well, go on.

All right, Belle, drinks are on me.

That's very kind of you.

Do you know, you remind me a little of Pat Phoenix--

Elsie Tanner, God rest her soul.

Of course, she was a redhead.

"Never call me ginger," she once said to me.

Look, I've got a job for you.

I want you to pretend to be someone.

I'm trying to help friend.

Righty-ho.

You get the drinks then and tell Belle all about the role.

And gin, if you don't mind this time.

Protein power diet.

What the fuck's that smell?

Lavender, it's soothing.

Smells like the inside of a hooker's oxter.

You said you'd support me, Patty.

I'm trying to mellow.

I will, sweet pea.

Of course I support you.

Good.

I really think it's working.

I've got some potpourri drying in the kitchen.

Water?

Hey, yeah, x-factor!

Said she's going on to get inside the skin

of the character.

What?

Like Silence of the Lambs?

I wouldn't put it past her.

She's loopy enough.

I'm meeting her tomorrow to give details.

All this to get inside some bizzy's boxers?

Like that's going to happen.

You never know.

Pint, please, Ian.

Yeah, right.

So I won't give you the full bag.

I'll give you the quarter.

Keep your head clear.

See if you can patch it up with that nice girl of yours.

What was all that about?

Young Felix on the morning, noon, and nights.

It's ruining his relationship.

A bit less smoking would do them both a world of good.

Dad, what are you doing?

Why does everybody in this house

see it as their duty to physically abuse me?

Listen, Dad, I'm worried about Liam.

He thinks we're poor and he's getting teased.

I am the one bearing the brunt, Deb.

I mean, nobody thinks about fathers, do they?

We're just supposed to keep storming, just get on with it.

You know, like Gary Cooper in "High Noon."

What about me, Deb?

Fuck me.

Hello, love.

Look, I think I made a mistake.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea.

It's nothing personal, it's just pretending

to be best mates with some dead woman you've never

met is too much of an ask.

Oh!

You would have loved Patricia if you'd met her.

Everybody did.

What?

It broke her heart giving that baby away,

but it was different days.

Her parents were religious.

You did what your father said or you were out.

Never a day went by when she didn't slink off

for a quiet cry abut her lad growing up in Ireland,

nobody belonging to him.

Not that she looked for sympathy.

No, there was just a sadness there--

a guilt, you could say, that she never quite shook off.

This is everything I can remember from the letter

and stuff he said.

Right, oh, um, cider and black, if you don't mind, love.

I skipped breakfast.

So?

She was fucking brilliant.

Nearly blamed meself.

What did I tell you?

A pint of lager and two Es. and don't spare the horses.

Hello?

Yeah, I can be there 7:30.

I've just got an errand to run.

Everything all right?

OK.

See you there.

It wasn't my fault.

Since when did we invite junkies into our house for tea?

The lad's father ridiculed him all through his teens

because of his acne.

I'm empathizing, Patrick.

Be with you in a minute, girls.

Terry's almost done.

Are any of these sponges actually buying anything?

There's more to life than money, Patrick.

You have to nurture the soul.

The Jocks are bad enough.

But now my own wife is trying to drive me into bankruptcy.

I'll be back in a minute, love.

Keep projecting positive thoughts.

Why are you being so hostile?

Business is going down the shitter.

And you're turning on most reliable punters

into a bunch of fucking tree huggers.

I'm doling out help and advice alongside the gear.

It's responsible selling.

It's irresponsible, Mimi!

It takes you a fucking hour to shift a couple of pills!

I'm a new woman.

I thought it's what everyone wanted.

If you don't like it, then maybe we've got a problem.

It wasn't my fault. It wasn't--

I'm with you now, OK?

It wasn't my fault.

It's all right.

Deep breathes.

Come on, Frank.

You've had enough.

He's only had two pints all afternoon.

He's just sleeping.

Don't get me wrong.

I don't want a new fucking woman.

I want the woman I married back.

Some junkie was helping her move

furniture around when I left.

Something about energy flow and "feng chewie."

She's lost her fucking plot.

Don't talk about your mother like that.

Well, you just said--

That's different, I'm her husband.

We're supposed to worship the ground she walks

on while she's here and then canonize

her when she's passed away.

That's how it works in Irish families.

I don't care how many chamomile

soaps she puts in the bathroom.

My Mimi is in there somewhere.

We just have to find a way to provoke

a response that will snap her out

of this before it goes too far.

You look great.

Thank you, love.

I'll pretend I didn't notice the tone of surprise.

So where is the boy wonder?

You said he'd be here at 7:30.

He promised.

Something must come up.

Right.

Well, I'm going to powder my nose.

Oh, do I have to stick strictly to the script?

Yes.

G and T when you can, love.

Christ, how long have I been here?

Six hours.

How many pints have I have?

That's just second.

All right, that's fucking it.

She's on the sofa tonight-- baby or no baby.

Who says we're poor?

She bought them out of her own savings, you know?

I don't want new trousers.

Well, don't worry.

They weren't expensive.

Probably came from the sweatshop in Asia.

10 pence a week.

No toilet breaks until October.

Oi!

Don't be so ungrateful.

Sorry, Debs, thanks.

It's OK.

You don't need to thank me.

All right, I've got to to go.

Off out again?

And

I could cut me toenails in her bed.

She hates it when I do that.

Why the fuck would you be in my bed?

Um, I could do an oil change on me bike in the living room,

can't I?

She'd turn it into zen and the art of motorcycle

fucking cuddliness-- put an incense

stick in the oil and burn it.

We could wash her whites with the coloreds.

Ruin all her undies.

I could hardly tell you where the washing machine

is, let alone how to work it.

Karen, doesn't make you do the laundry, does she?

Well, what's important to her?

I mean, she's more likely to go off her dinger about something

that matters to her, isn't she?

Isn't she?

Family.

Meaning you-- her little baby.

What?

Shane, kick the shit out of your brother.

Not now!

Pavlov's fucking dog.

On the quiet.

Make it look like the Scotts did it.

How come he gets to do me?

Unless you'd rather do it yourself.

And what good's that going to do?

For you, nothing.

Other than knowing that you're giving pleasure.

It's like an investment for the future.

Tell me again about the ari--

the aerols-- the bit around the nipple.

I have got a life, Carl.

I can't be your round-the-clock sex counselor.

I want to learn and you're really helping me.

It's the areola.

It's all these new words.

I've never going to remember them unless you show me.

I'm a married woman.

Well, I don't mean naked.

With your clothes on.

The dates when it's supposed to be.

When are they coming to Manchester?

The bit round here.

The dark bit.

You don't just want to plunged right in on to the nipple.

You want to build up to it.

I know, but just describe what needs to be done again.

Later.

Come on.

Probably got a couscous salad waiting for us or something.

I'm so sorry.

I've been sitting here two hours.

I know, I'm sorry.

Is this who you wanted me to meet?

This is Belle.

She was a friend of your Mothers.

We were like sisters, me and Pat.

In and out each other's houses.

How did you--

I just put the feelers out.

Big Irish family, lots of cousins.

When and how did you know her?

I said to her only last week-

Last year.

-last year.

I said you should trace that boy of yours.

And she did, son.

She started proceedings.

Her fondest wish to be reunited with you.

She just couldn't hold on long enough to see it through.

She said this last year?

Yep!

On her trip to Vegas. - What?

Yeah.

She's always wanted to go there.

I performed there, of course, when I had the legs for it.

She was starstruck, your mom.

She wanted to see where Sinatra played,

Caesar's Palace, MGM Grand--

Maybe, we should stick closer to home.

If you must.

What exactly do you want to know, son?

When did you last see my mother?

Couple of months ago.

A the bingo gambling, see.

The Vegas connection again.

Hey, I'll tell you who liked to gamble--

Johnny Brings-- Mike Baldwin of course.

I've just come from my mother's house.

What?

Really?

How is she?

Met with my half brothers and sister.

Oh, that must be nice.

My mother was in a coma for the last two years of her life

after a brain hemorrhage.

If she went to Vegas, it must mean a hell of a trip.

Who is this woman?

I was trying to help.

I better go.

Did I get the part?

Tom, wait!

I'm sorry.

I was trying to help.

I thought if you could get some answers,

even if it were the right ones- - I--

-it might give you some peace.

It's been a long day.

When I saw you crying the other day, I couldn't be it.

Mandy, I can't?

Why not?

If it's because of my family, I'm not like them.

It's at least as hard for me that you're a copper.

No.

I mean, I can't.

I am seeing someone.

I have been for a while.

What?

You never said--

I didn't think it was an issue.

I didn't know you felt--

Oh my God.

Mandy.

Oh my God, my God!

Mandy!

I'm sorry!

I felt horrible.

Didn't know what to say.

If I was handed out the wrong signals, it wasn't intentional.

She was only trying to be kind.

It's more than kindness.

She likes you, you halfwit.

I know that now--

at the time.

You should have talked to me about your mum.

How could I?

We've got enough on our plate, don't you think?

I thought we agreed no secrets.

It wasn't a secret.

I just thought all this sneaking around, coming here.

I can't even call you at home.

Have you idea how patronizing that sounds?

Does it?

Well, it's all right to sleep with me,

tell me that you love me.

But don't worry my pretty little head

with complex personal issues.

I didn't think about that.

I didn't mean--

I know you didn't mean.

That's one of the reasons I love you.

Mandy.

I thought you had a shoe-in.

Mandy.

He's an idiot.

No, you're an idiot.

And I'm even more of one for listening to you.

If your gaydar's as fucked up as your straight antenna,

you'll be single a long time, Ian.

Hurry up, will you?

Or I'll come and do it for you.

She'll be back in a minute.

A black eye would have done it.

What a day.

I have quite a family I didn't even know,

even though they took a bit of persuading.

Nice people though, once I sat down with them.

Debs.

We have to tell her.

We can't.

I know.

I know it's a massive risk, but I've got to.

She's my sister-in-law-- well, as good as.

Just wait till your birthday.

Have you any idea how she'd be feeling right now?

I can't lie to her.

It wouldn't be fair.

I could go to jail.

I don't want to jinx us by being unkind to someone.

Sweetheart, you all right?

Don't tell Debbie.

Why?

What you doing?

I like looking poor.

People underestimate you.

And then if you achieve something, it's a big deal.

A working class hero is something to be, Mum.

Please, don't tell Debbie.

She wouldn't understand.

You could always burst a pen in your pocket

because ink never washes out.

Aw!

Cheers. How'd you get on?

I don't know.

I'm not sure she'd liked it.

How do you mean?

You know the finger up the arse thing?

I don't know if I timed it right.

You might have to talk me through it again.

Somebody's been out on the town.

He's had a date.

Oh, yeah. who with?

Tracey Kelvin.

I was just giving him a few tips.

Who's Tracey Kelvin.

Oh, some vastly experienced teen sexual predator.

Who's the sexual predator?

What's it got to do with you?

I'm Tracey Kelvin.

What's he's been saying?

Nothing!

I've not said nothing.

He said knew stuff none of us had ever heard of before.

Foreign stuff from your other lovers.

Is he calling me a slapper?

No.

Did you ride him or not?

Did I fuck!

I won't let him go any where near me.

He's not even got his own car.

So why?

It was just a joke.

He was getting you to talk dirty.

What?

He was getting you to talk dirty so he

could go home for a bit of DIY.

I showed him that thing you do with your tongue.

You little bastard!

What thing with his tongue?

What's going on?

God almighty!

What happened?

The Jocks.

They caught up with him on the estate.

He had no chance.

It was a massacre.

What are you going to do?

Me?

Not a thing.

There's a new ethos in this house.

And I won't be the one who rocks the boat.

Oi!

sheep shaggers!

Get'em!

That's my girl.

What's so important?

You nearly woke Katie.

Is something wrong.

It's me.

What is?

Tom.

Oh, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Debbie.

I wasn't even sure meself what I thought.

No, you don't understand.

I mean, it's me.

I'm the someone he's seeing.

Don't be stupid.

You're only kid.

But he's--

26 and I'm nearly 16.

It's illegal.

It's disgusting.

We love each other.

Oh, grow up.

How can you know what love is at your age?

How old were you when you got pregnant Katie?

That was different.

We were both kids and love came after out of necessity.

Isn't it better doing it this way around?

I'm not going to get pregnant.

I'm not naive. - What?

You think because you've got two lessons in biology,

you know what it's all about?

You're the one always telling me how grown up I am--

20-year-old head on a 15-year-old's shoulders.

Well, I couldn't have been more wrong, could I?

You love him?

You've been reading so many magazines.

Look, I'm sorry he hurt you.

He didn't mean it.

Fuck off!

He didn't hurt me.

We had a couple of drinks, that's all.

Lost me head.

What are you doing?

I couldn't let you do it on your own, could I?

Don't know what you might be facing.

What if someone sees?

Well, so be it.

I didn't realize--

Stop apologizing you're pathetic-- the pair of you.

You won't say anything?

What am I going to say?

A bloke I fancy gave me a body swerve

because he prefers children.

She's not a child.

She's not a woman.

We didn't do it lightly.

It took a long time.

That's worse.

We'd like to keep it quiet-

I'll bet you would.

-til Debbie's birthday.

Please, Mandy.

I won't say anything.

But when it goes belly up, don't come running.

Look, things could get tricky.

Shh.

I'll talk to you in the morning.

I don't I'll brother growing up.

All the aggro and for what?

To be kicked out you bed, resented

for growing life inside you.

The lies and the politics, sneaking

around, opening yourself up to all sorts of hurt and pain.

And for what?

Companionship?

Someone to hold onto in bed at night?

You can be your own company.

Hold on to yourself in bed.

Carl does every night when he thinks I'm sleeping.

In the olden days, they used to give drugs

to gymnast from East Germany to keep them

children for as long as possible.

I wonder if I can get my hands on anyone of those.

Course, it was my choice to move on from Corrie.

I'm more of an all-round entertainer,

rather than just a one trick pony.

I've down two cruises around the Shetland Isles.

Three seasons in skegness.

Hey, hey, hey!

Bobby Davro, hey!

Oh, he's a lovely man.