Original subtitles

Theatre – it can show us who we are, who we were and who we could be.

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Put these up the far end.

– Can we talk? – Yeah...

Set the table and you can talk about whatever you want.

You start.

OK. Railway stations?

Yes. Stations. Go.

– Limerick Junction. – Yeah.

– Talk to me. – There's no town there.

Just a station. No one lives there.

– No one stays there. You just transfer. – You come and go?

Yeah, go anywhere you want. Like, to a real place.

– Escape anywhere. – Yeah.

– No one would know which way you went. – And there's no town there?

There's nothing there.

It's the middle of Tipperary.

It's like a magic door.

Get yourself a ticket to Limerick Junction,

change platforms, and poof – you're gone!

– Boom. – Shoot across to Rosslare Harbour.

Ferry to Le Havre. SNCF to Paris.

Orient Express to Istanbul, if you don't mind changing at Bucharest.

– Well, I don't mind. – OK.

Well, once a week I think it is, there's a service down to Teheran.

Get yourself down there.

Through Iran, across Pakistan,

bang, down on into New Delhi and on to Varanasi.

– You know what's there, of course? – No.

In Varanasi?

The Manikarnika Ghat,

where the steps lead down to the River Ganges.

They cremate the bodies of the dead there 24 hours a day,

seven days a week.

You wanna be cremated there, Lydia, you know why?

– Why? – If you're burned there

and your bones are thrown into the River Ganges,

you won't be reincarnated any more, you're free.

Your soul is washed clean

and you finally return to nothingness.

With none of this life stuck on you any more.

Well, I must do that, then.

– – Yup.

Just get a ticket to Limerick Junction and off you go.

– Where will I put the cake? – In the middle.

– Pride of place. – Mm.

Should we test it?

– Do a taste test? – You will not!

You'll have your lunch with everyone else.

Lunch? It's five o'clock!

Yeah, well, it's a late lunch.

– Dinner? – It's an early dinner.

"Linner"? "Lunner"?

– "Dinch". – "Dunch".

What are you doing? – Setting the table.

– For what? – What do you mean for what?

– For who? – For your Uncle Pierre.

– What do you think? – Billie, you left the gate open.

– Your chickens are all over the shop. – What?

I told you a million times.

You can tell me a billion times and I still won't do it, so understand that!

Stupidity's beyond understanding.

That's why you're so fucking thick.

This was my idea. Don't take it out on her.

– Take what out? – Billie seems good.

– Her fingers are all bent. – Yeah, I saw.

She won't go to physiotherapy unless I let her go on the train.

– And you won't let her? – She can't manage on her own.

She'll get to Sligo, walk out of the station, get hit by another car.

– Well, I could go with her. – She won't let anyone go with her.

– It's impossible. – I know.

Do you?

– So, look... Dermot's coming. – What, here?

Mm. To see your Uncle Pierre. See everyone.

– See everyone? – He loves you, Stephen.

– He loves Billie. – Yeah, he loves Billie.

See how you've been.

– How have you been? – I'm great. How have you been?

Good. Yeah. I must get some of your eggs.

Eggs is Billie.

Place looks well.

– It's cold! – Yeah, it is a bit cold.

Wind gets in everywhere, rain gets in.

– Has Dermot not talked to you? – Talked to me about what?

– Dermot and your Uncle Pierre. – What?

– I'll let them tell you. – Tell me what?

Nothing.

They want to sell, is it? Get me and Billie out and sell it?

– No, I don't think so. – Then what?

– I said I'll let them tell you! – That's why everyone's coming.

Listen, I wouldn't mind, but I've tried to get him to sell it to me,

buy them out, they won't sell it.

What if he wants to sell it to someone else?

– Is that what they said? – No, I don't...

– Then what? – Something. I don't know.

Yeah? Something.

Then fuck him!

I'll find us somewhere.

– You'll always keep Billie with you? – What choice do I have?

– Well, she could stay with us. – Yeah, right.

If they try to sell this, then, fucking...

Let them try.

So, how have you been? Did I ask you that?

What's going on?

– Nothing. The usual. – All the usual?

– Mm. – Life and the whole lot.

Dermot's wandering again.

But you probably know that, so what's new?

– Yeah? – It's my own fault, of course,

for giving him so many chances.

– He was always like that. – Well, you might have told me!

– There was no telling you. – He's gone in the head.

It's a young girl with red hair over in Annaduff.

We never see him.

I've asked him what are we going to do, and he says he doesn't know.

– Kick him out. – We have two children!

– I can't kick him out. – Your kids'll still have him.

– He won't be dead. – He's as upset as I am.

– Yeah, right, give me a break. –

– Listen, maybe you could... – Maybe what? He doesn't talk to me.

Do you remember when we were younger?

You told me about the water from the well up there in the foxes' covert?

You said it could make someone fall in love with you.

– Can you get me some? – Are you serious?

– What, you don't believe in it? – Believe in it?

Can't say I ever think about it.

– You never think about love? – No.

So, this is it, is it? You're just gonna take care of your sister.

Live on your own. Dinner for one. Dinner for two.

– Looks like it, yeah. – It's mad, isn't it?

– What is? – You don't want any.

And I married the brother who can't get enough.

Maybe there's nothing left for anyone to have.

– Will you get me some? – Some what? Some of the water?

– From the well. – For fuck's sake!

I'll get it for £500.

– For £500? – You can get it yourself if you want.

Yeah, all right, I will. Where is it exactly?

You wouldn't even know it even if you were looking at it.

It's just a little trickle in the muck and the stones.

In among the briars and the hawthorn.

Little brass tap. I'd have to mow a way in. It's two days' work.

There's a tap?

Tiny little brass tap someone put there years ago.

Centuries ago, I don't know.

£500?

Are you just punishing me?

– Why would I punish you? – Because...

– We were children. – Yeah, well.

Old pain lingers. It turns into arthritis.

Not if you never feel anything any more.

– Did you not put mustard on this? – Yeah, you all love mustard.

I can never taste anything, but... it's lovely.

– Does it work? – Yeah, it's nice.

No, I mean the water.

They say to put it in his milk, never in alcohol.

Drink some when he drinks it, say a Hail Mary.

A Hail Mary?

Fucking say something, I don't know. I always heard it was a Hail Mary.

And then you should be the first person he sees when he wakes up.

And that's it.

– And you've never tried it? – At £500?

I can't say fairer than that. It's a day and a night digging in there.

I'll have the face and hands cut off me.

– Well...? – Yeah, to bewitch your own husband.

I'd only be doing it for the children. No, it's money well spent.

– Right, you're mad in your fucking head. – Will you get it for me?

– Here you all are! – Elizabeth! Look at you!

– So look at you all. – We never heard you coming.

We parked at the bottom of the driveway. Father Pierre wanted to walk up.

– Can he find his way? – Yeah, well.

– He's feeling his way with his stick. – What can he see?

What can he see? Vague light and shadow.

– His nose will lead him to the damp. – How are you, Stephen?

Oh, I'm fantastic!

– How's Billie? – She's rocking.

Now, Father Pierre wants to say Mass while he's here.

– I'm telling you now before he gets here. – No problem.

– He was worried that... – No problem.

He can say Mass every day if he likes.

He rarely gets the opportunity any more. I mean, he says Mass with me there but...

– Just the two of you? – Yes, every morning.

Before breakfast, in the kitchen.

You know the parish don't pay my wage any more?

– That's terrible. – But I couldn't leave him on his own.

– I was offered another job but... – No?

He can't do anything for himself.

– You're like an old married couple. – Ha! I suppose we are!

They should allow marriage for priests.

– I don't want to marry him, Lydia! – No, I mean...

– No, I'm his housekeeper. – Yeah... I mean in general.

- Look who I found! - He walked in cow shite! Twice!

What? For God's sake! Would you look at ya!

Get off me, it's fine. It's good for the complexion.

Look who's here!

– Who's here? –

– Me, Father. Lydia, Dermot's wife. – Dermot's wife!

– Lydia. – Yes, yes. And Billie is here?

Look at the size of her! And Dermot?

- No, that's Stephen. - The younger one.

The handsome one. – Yes, I know. Stephen. Who else?

– There's nobody else. – Did you never get married, Stephen?

– Not yet, no. – And you're running the place?

– Me and Billie. – I do the chickens. How did you get here?

- In the car. - From Dublin?

- From Dundalk. - Dundalk?

You coulda shot down the Belfast line, transfer at Connolly.

It's literally the same fricking platform!

– Are you hungry? You must be! – Is there food? I can smell it. Yes.

Let me get you a plate. Sit down.

– Stephen, where are all the chairs? – We never sit in here.

We sit in the kitchen. We live in the kitchen.

Billie, would you get some chairs? Stephen.

By Christ, that's some smell of spiders!

– Don't they heat the place? – It's just the two of them.

Like two children minding a house.

This was where we used to spend all our time when I was a boy.

With their father, my brother Teddy, in here,

studying, wrestling on the floor.

There was our old Great Uncle Séamus, asleep in a bed in the corner.

He never woke up, so we'd come in here to hide from our dad.

But he'd always find us. He'd come in and wrestle us in here.

He tried a mad crazy new kick on me one time.

Had to have my two front teeth taken out.

My gums were purple. He tried it on my brother, on Teddy.

- – Teddy went deaf in one ear. - God, that's a terrible story.

That's life. That's...

The roars were so violent, our Great Uncle Séamus even woke up once or twice.

Always wanging on about the covert out there.

How an old an old ancestor of ours, a hunchback,

was cured by the fairies.

But didn't he go back to ask for more favours,

– so they gave him two humps! –

And how is Dermot, Lydia?

– He's very well. – Devoted to your children?

– Yes. – Devoted to you?

– Yes. – Thank God.

Elizabeth was saying you still say Mass every day.

Yes. It's a form of meditation now really.

No congregation when they retire you off.

I'm never compelled to give a sermon now, but I might,

– if we have a little Mass here. – Yes, well, Dermot's coming.

I can't think what's keeping him, he'd love to see you.

Lovely. Yes, I'd like to catch up with him.

A little catch-up. – Have a catch-up about this place.

About everything, what the state of play is.

– Stephen and Billie live here. – I know.

But just to get his advice.

He's knitted in so well to the business community and the market.

Oh, yes. – What'd be best for the place, I mean...

– With this pair in charge here, l mean... –

- – There's a bird's nest in the hallway! - Probably, yeah.

– What? – Yes!

Up in the cornicing.

The birds need somewhere to live, too.

- This is what I'm talking about. - Have you tried one of these?

Mushroom. And cream.

Oh, cream!

Billie, what are you wearing my love?

– Work clothes. – Have you good clothes?

These are all my clothes. I always look like this.

Stephen, has she nothing else to wear for the dinner?

– I honestly couldn't tell you. – Would you not buy her something nice?

– With what? – Oh, yeah

Have you any idea what this place costs us just to turn on the lights?

Did you not get that nice cheque Father Pierre sent you?

– When? – Now, Elizabeth...

– I do his accounts. We sent you £2,000. – Who's 'we'?

From Father Pierre's account, I sent the cheque.

He signed it, I sent it to the account here in town.

– So, we're the 'we'. – You're the 'wee'?

I'm sure Stephen used it to mind everything.

The bank woulda shoved that straight into the overdraft.

- – You shoulda sent cash. - I'm sure we can... Elizabeth.

She's tired. We're all tired.

- – Hello. - Hello.

Hel... lo.

Now, what have I missed?

Dermot! – Ah, Pierre!

How's it going? Looking sharp there, Pierre. Hello, Billie.

Silly Billie. Hello, Billie.

Hello? Fucking nothing, huh?

How are you, Elizabeth? Great to see you.

Hold on a second, where did you...? Are the kids here?

– No. – But you're here.

Well, now we're all here. All right, good stuff.

Come in there, Freya, that's right. This is, er... This is Freya.

She works in our... um... She works for us.

- – I thought we could use the help. - Does anybody want tea?

– Will I pour it? – Lydia, would you make a bit of tea?

We'll have tea after. There's drinks, orange and water.

– We'll have tea after with some cake. – Lovely.

Let me get you a plate of sandwiches, Father.

- Did youse come on the... - No.

Come from where? Billie, we came in the car.

Can we talk about black chain coupler systems...?

No, look, a choccy bar!

Sorry, Father, how are you?

– Dermot, my old... – What?

– No, no, what's going on here? – He's tired. We're all a bit cranky.

Dermot, you have no idea.

Well, it's good to see you, Father. Billie, get a napkin.

- Sorry, no I'm fine. - OK. Have a sandwich.

- Yes! - Sit him by the fire.

Lovely, we'll get you nice and warm and get the blood sugar up.

Would that be a good idea? Do you know what else might be a good idea?

Do you think we might get the table out of the draft?

You know, for people's comfort and whatnot.

Thank you so much, Billie. So helpful. Freya, we brought an apple tart.

Would you give that to Lydia?

Lydia, you might plate up that apple tart. And Lydia?

Do you have any paracetamol? My head is fucking killing me.

- Oh, sh... - Isn't it very humid?

- Yeah, we saw lightning. - And thunder.

You don't see thunder.

Does anybody else want a sandwich?

- Who is this? - I'm Freya.

She works in my café.

- – One of the cafés. - You live in the...

- – I live in Annaduff. - Oh, very nice.

We have so many young people coming and going.

- – But they're faceless, you know. - No character.

No! But I saw Freya in action, I said to myself,

'Now, that's interesting.'

When you see it.

- When you see it! - When you see it.

That's half the battle, Father. I have a nose for people.

I keep her with me now. She's indispensable, aren't ya?

Have you finished school, Freya?

I have a diploma in hotel management.

She's management material.

Well, it seems a bit of waste to drag her out here to serve sandwiches.

Well, that's management, too, Lydia.

You wouldn't understand. This is what I'm up against, Father.

Well, Stephen, you have the place looking like a fuckin' tip as usual.

- Dermot! - I'm only messing with him! What?

This is how we communicate, isn't it?

The little bull and the big bull!

I got him, I got the little cunt! I've got him...

- Dermot! - For Fuck's sake, Stephen.

No need to lose the fucking noodle! Huh?

We're always messing like this. Jesus!

Horseplay. There's nothing like it.

You know the gate is hanging off the hinges?

Yeah. The lad who helps me with the milking

hit it in the dark the other morning.

What d'you have a lad helping with the milking for?

– I just do. – Huh.

Freya, can you make sure that everybody has a drink?

There's a Paddy powers in that bag.

Dermot, it's only, what is it? Is it four o'clock?

It's fine. Four o'clock is fine!

Pierre can turn it into the consecrated blood of Christ.

Wine, not whiskey.

Well, it'll be strong blood so! The blood of Christ.

I assume that would be some kind of sacrilege.

It's certainly sacrilegious

to mess around with a good whiskey, I have heard that.

Well, clearly you've already started.

Fuck's sake.

Stephen won't say no. – And I won't say no.

– A small one, put lemonade in it. – Billie, no.

Ah, fuck off, Stephen! You're only an old fucking granny.

- – Billie! - What? You're a guest here.

This is how we speak, we communicate with each other here.

Your uncle is a man of the cloth.

I don't believe in any of that bollocks.

- – Billie! - Here!

Freya, this glass is fine. On top of my lemonade.

And Pierre won't say no.

I will.

- – Not. - Ah-ha! Good man, Pierre.

♪ Do you love an apple?

♪ Do you love a pear?

♪ Do you love a laddie with bonnie brown hair?

♪ Still, I love him, I can't deny him

♪ I'll be with him wherever he goes ♪

– ♪ Before I got married... ♪ –

Freya, you're like a little crockery wasp over there!

Can you just... fucking settle?

Just for a...

I'm trying to... Ah.

Fucking musical chairs now, huh?

Just trying to...

Now, do you feel that?

- Feel what? - This silence, Billie.

Just enjoy that, lad.

This brief moment of respite

was brought to you courtesy of big Dermot Mc-fucking-Faddin.

That smell.

Here.

It's like nowhere else. This was my home, Billie.

Just as it's yours now.

We were children out there in that greenery. In here.

Me and your poor late father, my brother.

Well, of course you were. You weren't born as adults.

No, but that smell. I mean, it must be the...

Every soil in every place must have its unique chemical composition.

Yes.

Smell being such a component part of memory.

Yes!

Evolution means the chimpanzees can survive if they just find their way home.

- That's the trick. - And we have.

Father Pierre has. He's found his way home.

You planning on staying a few days or...?

Yeah, a few days. We're playing it by ear.

Great, great.

I'll make sure to bring you around and show you all of the, you know...

Wait till you see in town, the amount of boats in the marina!

The influx, my God, Pierre. Then there's the crypt in the church.

They're after putting a new door into that crypt in the church.

This is our family crypt.

Our mother's grandparents are in there.

There's two coffins in there, the bodies are under glass.

You can see them. It's a bit of a tourist hotspot.

Yeah, I've seen it. He had that crypt built when she died.

Yes, to keep her safe. Till he could join her.

Now they're both in there, like two fucking eejits.

- – It's cold in there. - They don't mind!

I'd mind. I don't want to be in there.

In the church in the street where everyone can walk in and look at me.

It wouldn't be you. – It would be me.

- – This is me, this is all there is. - Well...

It's like he wanted him and his wife to be like...

Publicly displayed?

No, safe. Away from the darkness in places.

Like places out here?

- Yeah, I don't know. - The darkness of the hedges.

- Hedges aren't dark. - They are at night.

No, I think he wanted to feel protected in there

– in the middle of the people in the town. – Protected from what?

The dark?

You wouldn't want to walk on a train track at night.

Anyway, they're asleep in there, now.

It's status as well, of course.

- They'll sleep in there forever. - What if they're not, though?

What if everyone coming in and out to look at their coffins

wakes them up to realise their mistake?

– What mistake? – Shoulda been buried in the ground

so they don't wake up, not left behind a glass door in the church

with the door open and the traffic going by.

You know, like, 'Beep, beeeeep!'

And then they're lying in there like, 'Well, this was a fucking shit idea.'

Well, this is lovely.

Look, why don't we get you sorted out? The rooms are aired.

Freya, will you help with the bags?

- – Where are your bags? - Billie?

– Outside! – Outside! What are they doing outside?

It's fucking raining outside, Billie.

It's not raining, Dermot. It's called drizzle, if you used your senses.

Very good. Billie, for fuck's sake, will you just get the bags, please?

Sorry, Father.

They're good leather bags, Italian leather.

Come on, Billie.

Freya, will you help Lydia with the bags? That's what you're here for.

- Right. - What are we doing?

Get you to your room, get you sorted out.

- My room, my old room? - Which one was your room?

- – Front, down here. - That's my room.

- Stephen has you up the back. - Up the back?

– Over the kitchen passage? – I told you.

- It's quiet. - It's damp!

- We put the electric heater on. - When?

- This morning. - This morning?

- – You shoulda had it on since yesterday. - And Elizabeth across the way.

Listen, Pierre, if you want your old room...

- There isn't any damp spores? - There's no fucking damp spores!

Well, of course there will be.

Of course there will be some damp spores, Stephen.

For fuck's sake, Billie, move your things so Pierre can have his old room.

– I need my room. I'm not moving my stuff. – It's fine. It's only a few days.

- Are you sure? - Our bags are in the rain!

- I'll get them. - No.

Billie, get the bags, please.

Freya's getting them. That's what she's here for.

- Right, let's get you sorted out. - And we'll be right as dodgers.

– See you shortly... Oh. – Are you all right?

Nearly walked into the wall ha-ha!

- Pity you're not a ghost! - Yes. Well I am.

In a machine.

Ghost in a machine!

He's gonna get black lung up there above the kitchen passage.

- – Good. - Stephen, do you want one?

– I will. – A small one.

Put your lemonade in it. Where's your lemonade?

Stephen, the place is looking like a fucking tip, though.

– What do you mean? – What do I mean? What do I mean?

I suppose I mean the fucking gate hanging off the hinges.

I mean the fucking everything overgrown everywhere.

The smell! The cow shite!

The damp in here!

– It's like I can feel it on my face. – What do you want me to do about it?

I would like you to take care of the place, for fuck's sake!

What do you want to live here for?

If you don't want to live here, get out.

I'll find someone who'll take care of the place.

– Live where? Go where? – I don't know.

We could rent this place out. We could sell it.

– We could get you a nice flat in town. – I don't want a nice flat in town!

– Where would the chickens live? – What chickens?

– The chickens that give us the eggs. – I don't know, Billie.

What do you care. Only Father Pierre is here you wouldn't have come up.

Well, that's not fucking...

Listen...

Lads?

What dreams do you have for yourselves?

Like, what's the plan here?

You're gonna live and die in your family home?

– In your home of origin, as they call it. – What? Oranges?

– Origin. – Oranges?

– Home of origin. – Like a home of oranges?

Yes, a home for fucking oranges, that's what I meant.

Where do you want us to live and die?

I don't mind. I mean, look...

You can stay here if you want. I'm not gonna make you do anything.

Well, you can't make us do anything, it's not your house, it's all's our house.

Yeah, I know. I know!

– What are you fucking playing at, anyway? – What.

What's the story with this young one?

– That's Freya. – Yeah, I know...

You're bringing her in here under Lydia's nose.

She's giving me a hand! She helps me with loads of things.

You have no idea the fucking difference she has made.

Yeah, I have some idea.

What do you care anyhow? Watch your mouth or you'll get a kick up the hole.

- You hitting the bottle again? - This is what I'm fucking...

It's all right for you, is it?

Oh, you pair, huh?

All well and good for you, hanging around up here all day long.

Fuck-arsing around in the kitchen,

listening to the radio all fucking day long!

I'm out there with a business and a family and the whole lot.

I mean, is it any wonder that I am the way that I am?

- – When I look at the pair of you... - What's that supposed to mean?

Well, just that I can see now, I can see...

what I have to overcome.

He's had to overcome being one of us.

Well, yeah.

Maybe. Maybe I have.

Maybe there are things I would do differently.

Like... Like... I don't want to hurt Lydia.

I don't want to hurt the kids.

But guess what? Unfortunately for everybody, Dermot is alive, too!

And I've been getting up at the crack of dark,

and I've been running my business,

and I've been making sure everybody else is all right.

And I've been paying for my own house, not the one I grew up in, like you!

And maybe... Maybe I came to some conclusions myself.

Like...

Like what am I doing with my life?

Cos I sure as fuck amn't enjoying it.

And I'm sure you pair don't want me back here with ye.

- Oh, yeah, blame us! - Ah, yeah!

Well, the fucking older brother has to do it all, mate!

You don't know it. You don't...

I didn't get to slip through the net like you pair.

Oh, no, Dad was all over my arse, but you two,

never, always the fucking... He's laughing!

He's fucking laughing at me! Honest to fuck!

The two of ye, smiling away,

like a pair of Cheshire cunts!

– – That's fine.

No, I wouldn't care either if I was ye.

So... smile away.

Anyway then, one day, there's this new girl down at the café in Annaduff,

and I don't know, man, just her way about her.

You know, just her fucking directness,

you know, just her lightness with how she spoke to everybody.

Just so fucking disarming and charming.

So fucking, like, no... so...

No fucking sides to her, you know?

And I said to myself, 'Now, that's interesting!

'That's fucking...'

And I'll tell you what it is as well.

She's not one of these fucking...

It's like...

It's like she's a boy in a girl's body.

– Fucking hell what are you talking about? – In a good way! In a fucking good way!

In a way you might find her propping up the end of the bar,

with the old lads, throwing back pints of plain with chasers.

Or maybe she'd throw up her hair and swan around in a T-shirt,

like she couldn't give two flying fucks!

And I mean, that's fucking class!

- – You know? - How old is she?

– What fucking difference does that make? – I don't know. None, I suppose...

– She's in her 20s, it's not like she's... – Yeah, but how old?

She's 20.

- – Next year. - Ah, for f...

Big joke, huh? Big fucking joke!

I had to, er... I had to fucking take her over to England.

She was in the family way.

– You're fucking having us on. – I fucking wish!

Oh, my God, what a shite weekend that was.

Brought her over to fucking London. Told Lydia I was going over on business.

To a 'café conference', whatever the fuck that would be!

We go over on the boat.

It's not even mine, I swear to fuck. I think.

Anyway, we land over in London, go up to the place,

she changes her mind, I can't get her to go into the fucking clinic.

We come the whole way back over here.

She changes her mind again. Back we go, over to fucking London.

You've no idea what we've been through!

Even on the way up to fucking Wood Green,

came across all these Chelsea supporters giving it all the fucking...

♪ Do you want a chicken supper, Bobby Sands?

♪ Do you want a chicken supper, Bobby Sands?

♪ Do you want a chicken supper

♪ You dirty Irish fucker?

♪ Do you want a chicken supper, Bobby Sands? ♪

If they'd known we were Irish...

I said nothing, kept my gob shut.

It had been a tricky enough morning already. This is fucking pre-lunch!

– Otherwise, I would have fucking... – Yeah?

– You would have what? – I would have fucking said something!

– – Hello, sorry.

Hiya, Billie. Hello.

– Who the fuck is this now? – Hiya, Dermot. It's Brendan Byrne.

Brendan...?

Brendan Byrne? Look at you, aren't you a fine big galoot!

Brendan Byrne! How's your mother?

– Yeah, good thanks. – Ah, good. And the bar?

And the farm and the whole lot?

Yeah, my ma's taking care of the bar now, I do the rest.

Ah, very good. Minding the cows?

You do be minding them here as well, I'm told.

Just giving a hand is all.

Ah, yeah. Sure, why wouldn't ya, Brendan? It's all adding up now...

Sorry, Dermot. Father Pierre is after falling.

- Where? - In the toilet.

– He fell into the fucking toilet? – No, not into it.

Brendan, can I sort you out later?

Yeah.

It's just all a bit mad here. How much do I owe you?

Yeah, no it's fine, we can sort it out later.

Great, let me just see what's going on here.

You want a sandwich?

It's nice.

– What's, um...? – What's what?

– What's going on? – Our uncle has come to visit us.

– He was a priest. – Oh, yeah. Is he not any more?

He's retired or something, but he can't stay in my room.

– So, I think he fell or something. – Yeah.

– Cows in? – What?

– Are the cows in? – Oh, yeah, they are, yeah.

- What? - What?

– Jesus Billie, will you not say anything? – Like what?

– I don't know, you're not talking to me. – Can we talk about...?

– We can talk about whatever you like. – OK, you go.

Go what? Talk...? Sure. I don't know.

– You tell me. – No, you.

– You never came. – Came where?

Where we said we'd meet in town, at the County Hotel.

We said we'd meet at the County, yeah.

– Yeah, in the bar there, yeah. – Yeah, in the lounge.

In the lounge, yeah.

They only have a lounge.

– Yeah, I couldn't. – Well, I was waiting for you.

– How was it? – Er, awkward?

– Lonely. – So, I didn't miss much?

Er... Yeah. Yeah, I suppose so.

Still you could have told me if you couldn't come.

– How? – Phone?

And your mother picks up the phone?

– I am not gonna phone ye! – All right.

– Well, you could've told me anyway. – Yeah, I wasn't able.

– Well, do you want to meet me? – For what?

– For I don't know. Do you like me or...? – Like what?

Er, my...

Er, my...

Your soul?

– Your essence? – Yeah, whatever.

Your sense of humour?

Your looks?

Probably not my looks, no, but... I don't know.

I like you, Billie.

I don't know what else to say. If I'm wasting my time, that's fine...

– I don't wanna break your heart. – Yeah.

I feel like it might be a bit late for that, is all.

– Well, whose fault is that? – I don't know.

– Come on, I'm a person too, you know. – Yeah, I know.

– You're just using me. – When?

When we were in the covert, when...

– When we, you know. – We were just using each other, so what?

– But you don't want to be seen with me. – Who wants to be seen by anybody?

I just feel like sometimes you crush my feelings in the dirt.

Ooh, the melodrama.

Look, I wasn't able to come, all right? And I won't be able to.

What do you mean 'not able to'? Just say that you don't want to.

I do want to, it's just that I'm not able to, all right?

Some people are just not able to do the things you want them to do, all right?

What, like you want to, but somebody's stopping you?

I'm not able to! I'm not able to! I'm just not able to! All right? And here, listen.

When two people are together, you know, and they're doing it,

it's supposed to be like this.

Two people pushing towards each other at the same time.

But when you're doing it, it's like...

Like moving in the same direction!

It's like away from me when I'm pushing into you, do you know what I mean?

You move like a swing going in the wrong direction so, like, nothing happens.

It doesn't feel like anything! Like what the fuck are you doing it like that for?

– I'm sorry, I... – Come on! That'll drive you mad!

– Sorry, I'll... – No, sorry!

Sorry. I'm just... I'm gonna...

Here, I'll meet you at the County. Do you want to meet?

Nah.

I can't.

Er... Sorry, I... Sorry.

So? – Yeah, so?

Father Pierre is all right. He just twisted his ankle.

– I don't care, Lydia. – Would you go after him?

No. I'm gonna put the chickens in.

- Billie put the chickens in... - I just said I'm doing it!

– All right! – And you're a fucking eejit!

– Will you get it for me? – Get what?

– The water from the foxes' covert. – You really want him?

Yeah.

£500.

Yeah.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

– Hello. – What time is it?

– Around eight. – Fucking hell.

I dreamt I was on a ship. We were rolling about in the cabin.

– Who was? – You and me.

– You were there. Do you not remember? – I do now, yeah.

You know how long it's been since I seen you?

– How long? – You weren't counting the days?

– Four years. – God.

I should be up there getting him his breakfast,

but I can actually hear him snoring, listen.

God, I can feel it. Can you not feel it?

I thought it was you.

I've lived with that sound for 30 years.

That vibration. He's out for the count.

– Billie won't come in here, will she? – She never gets up till about 12.

So, you've never met anyone?

Maybe I have.

– Where is she? – Where indeed.

I don't think so. Here, give me one of those.

- – You smell of alone-ness. - –

– What does it smell like? – Smells lonely, Stephen.

Not like you then, with old Uncle Pierre.

Just cos I live with him doesn't mean we're...

– I mean, he's a priest! – So? He's still a man.

Stephen, when you're housekeeper to a priest

it's like skipping the fun part of a marriage

and just getting straight to the celibacy.

Yeah, but most housekeepers surely don't live with their housekeepees.

– No. – Everybody must assume that...

They can assume away! He's more or less excommunicated anyway, so...

– Is it that bad? – Not cos of me.

He's been at war with the men upstairs forever.

Yeah?

– Your whole family! You're all difficult! – Mm.

If not impossible!

What, has he his own religion or...?

He has his own interpretation of the Bible or whatever.

They had to stop him going round giving the last rites to dying parishioners.

No-one wanted him coming near them in the end.

– Too weird. – Huh.

And that suits me. Oh, and you're like me, too, I know you are.

– Yeah? – You living with your sister.

– Me with a priest. – Life's lost causes.

Your brother Dermot's more functional than you, though.

– She's a nice woman, Lydia. – Yeah, right.

Functionality is a sliding scale, too, you know.

That young one that he brought here yesterday.

The wee redhead. He's not...?

– He's a dickhead. – And Lydia is so beautiful.

He was always... He's the most like our dad out of the three of us.

Our dad was like him, you know?

Mentally fucking...

– Not like you? – No.

– Well, I hope not. – What do you do all day?

When?

– When you're here all day with Billie. – I mind Billie.

– And what else? – Like what?

'Like what?' Like... Do you read?

Do you go to the pictures? Drink?

– What do you do? – I tidy up.

I tell Billie to wash herself.

I give her some lunch. I tell her to get dressed.

I make sure Brendan's done the cows.

I get the shopping. I get the dinner.

We sit in the kitchen, the radio is always on.

She listens to the charts and I walk out there.

Where do you go? Tell me.

Up out to the foxes' covert, look out at the river.

That just about takes care of the day, Elizabeth.

– What a waste. – Of what?

– Of you. – I'm not looking for trouble.

– No? – No.

Do you never think of me?

Down the years, the seasons rolling by since last time I was here?

Sure I do.

Could I live here, do you think?

You'd be too bored. There's no drama.

No letters of censure from the Vatican.

Only trips to Sligo general hospital when Billie gets herself knocked down.

And you wouldn't sell this place? Move to Dublin or somewhere? Somewhere near me?

– Start living? – I could ask you all the same things.

Yeah, maybe that's why I feel like I know you.

– I just I never bothered with... – The world?

Isn't this the world?

You never have dates, nice men to buy you your dinner?

There was a nice old gentleman.

His wife was sick.

He took me for a drives, we got coffee.

But ah, it was just all too...

– Sexual? – Sad.

My mother and sisters all think I'm mad.

– I wonder why. – Mm.

I mean, all that feminism always annoyed me.

I always thought the answer, for me, was something to do with men.

Boys. Just the way I was.

The rare creatures were the most fascinating. Look where it's led me.

– Mm. – I mean,

everyone uses pleasure, don't they?

To skate across the surface of everything.

High above the horrific depths.

A cup of coffee.

A slice of cake, a wallop of gin.

A furtive glance.

That's enough to sustain your next leap across the next black crack in the ice.

And then you realise that no one else is going anywhere much either,

just over the next little crack.

And then you meet someone like your Uncle Pierre.

God knows where he's going, but fuck me, it's somewhere.

– – What?

You really have Mass every day, just you and him?

– Every morning in the kitchen. – Fucking hell!

– A bit of Mass would do you good! – Yeah, right.

– They're taking the house off us. – What?

– The church. – What about them?

- – They're taking the house back... - Hello?

- – Where is everybody? - Pierre.

– Dermot? – No, it's me, Stephen.

– Stephen? – Yeah, Stephen.

– Where's Elizabeth? – Is she not with you?

– Who's that there? – Where?

There! Elizabeth?

– Elizabeth? – There's nobody there.

- – What am I...? - Where's the pancakes?

– Are we having pancakes? – You said you'd make pancakes.

No, look. There's all this grub here. This is gonna be breakfast.

You sort out Father Pierre like a good girl. It's all good.

– Can we have cake? – You can have whatever you like.

- I might say a little prayer... - Great.

Amen. I'm just gonna go to the bathroom. I'll stick the kettle on.

– Here, Father, look. There's cake. – Where?

Relax.

– You're retired. – I'll never retire.

What would I do all day? All night.

– I'm awake all night. I think all night. – Think about what?

Statistics, times, dates, routes, places, connectivity.

– Can we talk? – OK. Why all those things exactly?

I love it.

– Though it used to be paint. – What did?

– What I thought about all night. – What about paint?

The history of paint, pigments, colours,

shades, what colours make what colours when you blend them,

the colour charts, the possibilities of new colours.

Before that it was chimpanzees, but I was much younger.

– What was? – What I thought about all night.

Their social structure, their habitat,

their distribution in the world.

The pop charts.

I focus on that still. I can't sleep.

I get up early, before Stephen, and I go out to the chickens

and I let them out of the coop.

I keep them locked up at night cos the foxes come and try and get them.

– Of course. – Then I wake Stephen to make boiled eggs.

– Why don't you make them? – I broke my hands.

I have rheumatism already.

I got knocked down in town and I fell on my hands.

They didn't heal well.

What kind of God would want you to experience that pain?

– Do you like it here, Billie? – I prefer the kitchen.

No, I mean, living here. Wouldn't you be happier in a nice place?

Nice town with a bookshop or a train station?

– Which one? – Like anywhere.

All right, show me.

There you are! You know, I think we've had progress.

Good, great. Sit down there, we'll take a look.

How is it?

– It's smaller, isn't it? – It's...

– Harder. – But harder is smaller, less mass.

– And this morning I swear... –

I coulda swore I saw something.

What?

– A deer, a little baby deer. – You weren't dreaming?

– Sure it's all a fucking dream. – That's true.

– – Billie!

– Would you like me to bless you? – Where?

In your mind?

No. I don't want to shift my thought processes.

You know what I say to this one here?

'Be free to find a path in life, not to be hiding in under my wing.'

– What do you think? – Well, that's right, you're an old man.

– She's not old. – Now. And I'm back home now.

I don't need anyone now.

Well, I'll just have to make my own way then, won't I?

Yes. I'm afraid you will, but that's to celebrate, you know.

Well, whoop-di-fucking-do!

Is this all still here? Was nothing put in the fridge?

- We're eating it! - There's flies everywhere.

- What? - They need to eat, too.

– Where's Stephen? – Up his arse looking for potatoes.

– Billie. – Can we talk about tr...?

Not just now.

- I'm a see if there's any eggs. - Lovely.

You have a peculiar energy, Lydia.

Well, you have a fairly wonky one yourself.

Yes, well...

– Elizabeth, I need to get dressed. – She's gone.

Oh, all right, I'll...

Ah, Dermot! Good man, I'll just get dressed.

– No, it's Stephen. – Oh, Stephen. Oh well.

I brought you some clothes.

Everything you wear looks absolutely ancient. It's the same with Billie.

– Do you never buy her anything? – Who's looking at us?

I am! And you should.

When you see yourself in the mirror. What colour are any of your clothes, even?

Everything is all so faded.

You and Billie are like two indeterminate grey scarecrows walking about.

I'm not wearing Dermot's clothes!

It's stuff he's never worn.

And stuff there for Billie that my Mary's never going to grow into.

It's brand new, so no grousing.

– Did you get it? – Get what?

– The water. From the foxes' covert. – You're that desperate?

– Yeah, I must be. – Why him?

Because when someone loves you, they show you the person that no-one else sees.

– And you're sure that person is in there? – Yes, I believe that it is.

And what if it's not, if it's a hopeless case?

Well, then I am, too.

'In the nineteenth chamber to behold his life,

'the sons of his father and his faithful wife...'

- And his girlfriend! - Oof!

You see that, huh? The dagger straight in.

Only a sibling does that to you, you know?

Fucking hell, Dermot.

Well, I didn't know she was gonna be here, did I?

Haunting the fecking place.

Look, lads, listen, so...

You may as well know, I've moved out.

- – Or I'm moving out anyway. - Oh, OK.

– Have you told Lydia? Like, what's...? – I mean, she's not blind.

– Have you told your kids? – Ah, for fuck's sake, Stephen.

– They wouldn't understand. – OK great...

All right, I'm only here to give a fucking lift to Pierre to his appointments.

I didn't come here for the whole fucking...

So just... It's the 1980s out there, lads!

It's a free market economy!

Let's deregulate that mama, you know? So, don't give me the whole fucking...

I'm just being honest with you, you know. I'm telling ye.

– Because I love ye. – OK, you're just...

You, missy. Hello. How old are you?

– Sorry, what's that got to do with it? – Leave her out of it.

– Just fuck off out of it. – Hey, watch your tongue!

– Or what? – Don't fucking make me, man.

Don't fucking start! You never won a fight with me and you're not going to today.

So don't fucking... Don't... Is that my jacket?

Yes, it is your jacket. Brendan?

– Is it OK if I get my...? – Your money. Hold on.

– Can I write you a cheque? – Yeah, yeah.

A fucking cheque? I ask you!

– How are ya, Brendan? How's it going? – Er, not so bad now.

– He has you doin' all his knick-knacks? – I don't mind.

– Does your mother not need you? – I'm just across the way.

– I can pop over, I don't mind. – Yeah, sure, a few extra shillings.

Mm.

Personal question.

– How much does he pay you? – I'm paying him now!

Fuck all is what he pays you, is that the personal answer?

Brendan, I've a bad pen. I'm going to get another one.

He's lacking a little bit of lead in his pencil, isn't he, Brendan?

Brendan, you tell your folks I said hello. OK?

I'd better check on Pierre.

Pierre!

Where are ya?

– Billie? Billie, come here. – What?

– Give me a hug. – No.

Ah, she'd never give you a hug!

– Huh? Come on, Billie. – No.

– Come on, show me that you love me. – No. No. No.

– Show me that you love me... – GET OFF ME! GET OFF!

For fuck's sake, all right. You see that? You see, huh?

Well, I love you anyway.

- – Pierre! - What?

– Are you all right? – What?

Brendan, you don't have a pen, do you?

– A pen, no. – Billie?

– Miss, would you...? – No, I don't.

– Brendan, I'm just going to the shops. – The shops?

– Just to get a pen... – Stephen, wait.

For fuck's sake, man.

Hiya, Brendan. – Hi... Hiya.

– Do you not remember me? – No.

I do, yeah. You live the other side of Cill Srianán there.

You used always wave at me in the mornings.

I'd see you bringing the cows down in the evening.

– Yeah, I know. You have a twin sister. – You have a twin?

Yeah. And our ma. And Dermot now, he stays over.

This is mad!

What does your ma say?

– She's in the hospital in Ballinasloe. – Oh. OK.

Yeah. Her nerves. Drink.

- – The drink was for her nerves. - Yeah, that's...

– Suddenly, you don't know us. – No...

Are you saying you didn't see my ma drinking in your pub up there?

That you didn't serve her? She was the only woman ever in the place.

Yeah, well my ma serves in the bar more than me.

Yeah, well, anyway she can't afford the pub this long time.

So, what does she do? – Drinks at home.

Lemonade bottles with vodka in them. Poitín in 'em.

Your pub is only ever lonely old men anyhow.

- Yeah, local people yeah. - Middle-of-nowhere people, yeah.

My ma used to meet fellas in there sometimes.

Little wiry fellas always.

Denim jackets, roll-up fags.

I'd get up out of bed there'd be some fucking eejit in the kitchen.

Gobshites always. Laughing then crying, rows all the time.

It's not all that bad. You should come in some time.

We could all go. Bring your sister. They're getting Pac-Man.

– We're not any more. – I thought you was getting Pac-Man.

– My ma said no. – Get a pool table.

– It's too small for a pool table. – Get a snooker table.

Anyways, er, yeah come in, bring your sister.

I'll give you a free 7-Up.

– My sister's not home either. – OK.

Where'd she go? She get the...? – No.

She's... I don't know where she is.

My mam said I wasn't a good sister any more, so...

Yeah, said I'd changed.

The doctor had her sectioned cos she kept going on about it.

Then my sister was too sick to go to work or school.

– Well, I'm sorry to hear about that. – Do you like going for walks?

– I do a lot of walking anyways. – Walking the cows all around.

Yeah, yeah.

What are your dreams, then?

– What do you mean? – Are you gonna marry my brother, Dermot?

– Get all his cafés and shops? – No.

Well, I dunno. What are you gonna do?

Hm? Or you?

Just become your mum and dad, running the pub and the farm?

– Yeah, although probably not my dad. – Why, is he not very cool?

– No, he's just not very... – What?

Alive.

– His mum is a very holy woman. – What?

– Oh, yeah? – She goes to Mass, but so does everybody.

– She probably says the rosary. – Yeah, every night.

Do you say it with your mam?

– Yeah. – Why?

I don't know, I just do.

– What do you want? – Nothing.

– Where are you going? – Nowhere.

Nothing. Nowhere. Nohow.

That's what they should call you. Fucking Nowhere!

Come on, Billie.

– I got a few things for you to try on. – Where?

– In your room. – Nah, I'm all right.

– Come on, we can talk about cartography. – You talk.

Yeah, I will.

I know you like me. You don't have to say anything.

- Do you two know each other? - No.

– Do you have any cigarettes in the car? – Yeah, I think so.

It's not locked. Maybe put the seats back up?

– Yak-a-doodle-do. – What? You want me to go?

Would you rather stay here?

– Nah, I'll... –

How are the kids?

How do you think the kids are?

– I'm gonna bring them for a meal. – Yeah, they told me.

I thought it would be better that they were out from underneath all the fighting.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I wasn't fighting. I didn't want to fight.

Neither did I, Lydia.

– But I have to be able to fucking live! – I never would have stopped you.

I can't go around like I'm in some kind of comedy!

Like I'm in some kind of fucking bedroom farce

where the main characters wonder into the wrong life!

– So fucking tell me! What? What? – What? It's not like...

It's like...

It's like there are two roads.

And one is all blocked up

and the other one takes me to the fucking moon! It's a no-brainer.

– I'm not blocking you doing anything. – It's not a physical block!

Did I say that? It's...

How can I say it?

It's like I can't live.

It's like if I go down this dusty old road, I'll fucking die!

– Do you know how scary that is? – Come home and ask Dr Kilgallon for...

Look, I'm already on the pills Kilgallon gave me. I am on them!

– And you're drinking on top of them. – I'm trying to figure myself out here!

I mean, for me, for once, if you could just... if I could just...

– It doesn't seem like I have much choice. – Ah, don't be so pathetic, Lydia.

God, is that what you think of me now? You think I'm pathetic?

Most wives would be losing their nut or trying to pull my eyes out.

I love you! What can I tell you? I fucking love you!

But I don't even know what that means!

Can't you not see that?

So, you're not in love with this fucking...

– Freya. – Freya?

– I'm trying to explain it to you. – All right.

It's not... It's like I'm under some kind of...

It's fucking mad! It's mad!

But that's neither here nor there, it's just where I have to go, so if you can...

No, Lydia.

Listen.

I'm gonna bring the kids for an omelette.

– – A mushroom omelette with chips.

And it's not that I don't care about you. Of course I care about you.

Which is why I think you should consider this for you, too.

– Consider what? – This, what I have, but for you.

– No. No! – Why not?

Because I love you. It's never changed. I still...

But that's not normal!

After all these years?

That's not.

Can't you not see that?

Like... Like that's mad!

Do you not see?

– Yeah. – Yeah?

I'm ready for the fields of battle!

– I'm ready for the fields of battle! – Are you right, Father?

Good to go. Lots to discuss.

– I want to go to the bank, my solicitor. – Yeah.

Are you all right?

– Am I all right? – Yeah.

I'm very good, actually.

The circumstances around me are challenging.

– I can feel it. – Can you?

I can see it. Would you like to make your confession?

– What? Now? – Yes, in the car on the way.

Come here, God understands.

– Does he? – Oh, yeah, of course he does.

I can feel your suffering and I'm going to help you and support you.

– So, will you rely on me? – I will, yeah.

– Will you depend upon me? – Yes. Yes, I will.

- – There she is now. - Did you have breakfast?

We're going to run some errands. Do you need anything here?

We don't need eggs.

Fuck's sake, what's that?

- – What is that? - Anything else?

- We do need goodies. - Are we right for the Big Apple?

That's it, Father, this way.

Big day out.

I'll, um...

I didn't think there'd be muck in it.

You know Dermot used to eat muck.

When he was a kid, he'd eat it with a spoon.

Put it in his milk. Make sure you're the first person he sees when he wakes up.

– Although, if I was you... – Yeah, I know what you'd do, you told me.

Good luck with the...

You look like you need a hug.

No, I'm all right.

♪ Some people say

♪ That I should forget you

♪ I'm never gonna be a fool

♪ I'm never gonna be a fool

♪ A better life, they say

♪ If I'd never met you

♪ I'm never gonna be a fool

♪ I'm never gonna be a fool

♪ Tongues talk fire and eyes cry rivers

♪ Indian givers

♪ Hearts of stone

♪ Paper ships and painted faces

♪ The world's no place when you're on your own

♪ A heart needs a home

♪ A heart needs

♪ A home. ♪

♪ In a small west coast town

♪ There's a family and a house

♪ Where the memories of us belong

♪ We used to live there

♪ Free of worry, free of care

♪ Free of pain and what we'd become

♪ If I could go back now

♪ I'd pick you wildflowers

♪ Tie 'em in burlap string

♪ Tell you what you mean to me

♪ Time eases, but can't erase

♪ The sad look on true love's face

♪ When you know what your heart needs

♪ And you tell them you must be free

♪ But deep down, you know the truth

♪ There's no replacing someone like you. ♪

- Fragilysis. - Fra...?

Fragilysis.

- It sounds real. - Fragilysis.

- – Fragilysis. - Like fragile?

It's like fragile.

The word is like fragile, but it means something very different.

- It's made up. - How do you know?

- I know by his face. - How?

I can see by his face he's having us on.

- Fragilysis. - It's not a word.

What does it mean?

Well, it means when something is right on the edge.

- You're right on the edge. - You know, a state of...

- Falling off. - Yeah, like imminent demise.

A state of...

- – Well, a state of... - Fragilysis.

- Fragilysis, yeah. - Look, he's actually laughing.

- I'm not! Look it up! - No way! That's a point to me.

It's not a word. He's trying not to smile.

– I'm not smiling. This is my natural... – He's in a state of fragilysis.

He is in my backside.

– It's not a word, right? – It...

- – It's not a word. - I knew it.

That's a good one, though.

I have one.

– Predonitial. – Predon-eye-is.

– What? No, predonitial. – 'Ishill'.

Something that has to happen before something else can happen.

'It's predonitial that some gas escapes before full evacuation.'

– – LYDIA: Exactly.

Predonitial? Predonitial.

Predonitional. Fragilysis.

Predonitial, not predonitional.

Predonitial.

- Hello. - Hello.

- Are we early? - We must be.

I don't want to sit through Mass.

No, no, I don't think he's going to say Mass.

He said Mass this afternoon in his bedroom.

I think this evening is just... He wants us to gather.

- To say goodbye? - I don't think so.

- Talk about rail networks? - Probably not.

- No, his mood is very... - Relaxed?

Subdued.

We're all subdued, bitch.

I beg your pardon?

- Billie was upset. - Oh?

– A fox got into her chickens. – Oh, no.

I said I don't want to talk about it.

- Sorry. - You left the coop open.

- I have never left the coop open. - Are they... Were they...?

- They're all dead, OK? - Oh, no. I'm so sorry.

And no one heard anything?

- – Silent death stalks the land. - I'm so sorry, Billie.

I know! You've said that about 11 times.

Elizabeth's only being nice. – I didn't say that she isn't.

Don't worry about it, Elizabeth.

It's just the cycle of nature. You have to learn from it.

You can learn from the fox.

Two types of people in the world, Elizabeth.

The fox and the prize heifer. Which one are you?

Well, I hope I'm not the second one.

Yeah, well, hoping won't save you.

You need to decide. Who do you want to be?

The prize heifer stands there on fair day, tied to a stick

where everyone and look at her, walk around her.

No mystery, you can walk all around.

You can even look up her arsehole, if you want.

- Billie! - Well, you can.

Twiddle her bits. She won't do nothing.

So, do you want to be the prize heifer,

standing there like a dunce in broad daylight?

Or do you wanna be the fox, only coming out at night,

scavenging in peoples' bins, causing trouble and being unknown?

Well... I don't know.

I don't want to scavenge in anyone's bins.

- – We're using metaphor. - What?

Just remain in the realm of metaphor

for five minutes of your bleeding life, will you?

I'll try!

– Cos I'm trying to teach you something. – I'll be the fox, then.

– Like you. – All right!

I am the fox.

Yeah, you probably fucking are.

– How are you, Stephen? – What? Yeah. Yeah, I'm terrific.

Hey, I have a word.

What's the opposite of nostalgia?

Neuralgia.

Neuralgia, yeah!

For windowsills and radiators

and scrunching down under the net curtains

and hiding at Christmas!

That would give you serious neuralgia.

– – Play something together, will you?

– Stephen, play something with Billie. – Play what?

– Something together. – You play together?

– I can't play. – He can.

– I haven't played in years. – Come on, play something!

– Play something together. – No, I can't play.

– Leave me alone, will ya? – You can!

I can't! Would you fucking stop it? Would you leave me alone?

– LEAVE ME ALONE! – Jesus, Stephen. We're only messing.

- – Yeah. I know, it's just. - What?

Stephen.

Well, go on. Play the...

What? Play the...?

Yeah, that's the one. Where do I go?

– There you go! There, you know it. – OK, let's go.

– – Hey!

– Ow! – You sabotaged it!

– I didn't. It's a wonky piano. – No, it's not wonky!

– OK, go on. From the top. – Give me the eyes.

No. Both eyes.

– – Father Pierre.

– – He'll need help getting dressed.

Billie, your young gentleman is outside.

- Who? - Brendan.

He's not my gentleman.

Was he invited, too? – Brendan wouldn't miss a Mass.

Go out to him, Billie. – Why?

– Cos it's raining. – He's used to it.

Have you no pity? He looks sick in his heart.

– Well, I can't cure him. – Billie, don't leave him outside.

For Jaysus's sake! Can he not not just knock at the door, no?

Well, evidently not.

So, here. You owe me money.

– What money? – £500.

– I don't owe you £500. – Don't come the gom with me, Stephen.

You filled up a jam jar with tap water.

– Fucking hell! Here we go! – You scooped a spoonful of muck in it.

– You told me you got it from the well. – I did! I got it from the fucking well!

Look at these fucking hands!

I nearly tore the arse out of myself going through the hawthorn.

That's bullshit, Stephen! I know you! And I know your brother!

I've lived with him my whole adult life!

And your sister out there now punishing that poor young fella youse both exploit.

– What? – You're all liars!

– You all treat everyone the same. – Go fuck yourself, Lydia!

I did what you asked me. I'll give you your money back if you want it.

– Yeah, well, I do. – I don't have it on me now!

No, of course you don't.

Why would I expect anything different from a McFaddin? You're all the fucking same.

I'll get you your money. What you want to bother coming up here for then any more?

– Who minds your children? – What?

You're never out of this place! What are you doing in here?

– I know my brother's not minding them! – They're old enough!

– How old are they? Ten? – 11!

The little one is nine, but she's actually more mature than the older fella.

Anyway, they can look after themselves.

They're like their father, they don't need me and they make it very plain.

Well, I wonder why...

Did you give it to him like I told ya, just before he went to sleep?

Yeah. Yeah, he came to see the kids.

He read a story to them in bed.

He came down the stairs.

I mean, we've both been living through hell, so I poured us both a whiskey.

I had it in. I gave it to him.

And listened to him fucking moaning and wailing, till he could hardly stand.

That fucking girl!

She drives him mad, you know.

Then I gave him the water with the muck in it and he slept on the couch.

And you were the first person he saw when he woke up?

Yeah, I sat there all night.

Fucking hell!

He snored and snored and dreaming, talking to himself, nightmares, the whole lot.

Then, finally, he opened his eyes and he looked right at me.

– And? – Well, he fell off the couch.

He crawled across the floor and got sick in the little toilet under the stairs.

So, I gave him a drink... of the water.

– You gave it to him again? – Yeah.

And?

There's all muck in it, Stephen, so he got sick again.

– And then he left. – Well, I... I don't know.

Yeah, well, like everything else in life, it's all just a legend.

– An illusion. – Mm.

– What am I gonna do? – It does work. I've seen it working.

– Oh, yeah? On who? – On you.

– On me? – Why do you think you're so lost?

– What do you mean? – Just look at it.

Dermot gave me the water?

I gave it to you.

– When? – When we were 15.

When you stayed here when your dad was in hospital

and your auntie used to bring you up here.

We'd bonfires that summer.

– Yeah? – I was mad about ya. I was a kid.

– What did you...? – I didn't mean anything.

I mean, it was all only a superstition.

But I got water from the well.

I put it in a plastic holy water bottle.

You were staying the night with us, so I...

I put it on your Rice Krispies when we were all having our supper.

You ate it,

and I set my alarm because I was gonna be the first person you saw when you woke up.

– I never slept all night. – Stephen...

But I crept down the landing and I came to your door.

But Dermot was already in there.

He'd snuck in and he was kneeling beside your bed.

I could hear the two of ye, laughing and talking and...

He never even had to fucking try. I'd done it all for him.

You fucking... You fucking...

– You fucking did this to me! – Lydia.

– Lydia, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, all right? –

I'm sorry.

What the fuck are you doing?

Who are you, anyway? You're causing fucking mayhem!

That's your despair and anger, it's not mine.

I didn't cause it. That's your own situation here.

My situation? What the fuck would you know about anybody's situation?

Cos Dermot talks to me, he tells me. I see you up here.

A grown man living with his own sister. You know what that looks like.

It looks sad.

– I look sad? – Yeah.

– Anybody would say that. – I'm sad?

So what? You don't think you look sad? You know what you look like?

You look like a little fucking witch.

– Huh! Well, maybe I am. I don't care. – Well, maybe you should.

– And maybe you should, too. – Should what?

– Care. – Ah, leave me alone, will ya?

Leave us alone. What's wrong with finding a fella your own age, for fuck's sake?

He is my age. Like you're my age.

– Well, I'm not. – Says who?

Says the laws of fucking time!

I don't think you understand time either.

What if I'd found you first, out here on your own in the dark?

– What? – 'What?'

– 'What?' – What?

Hello. – Hello.

What's happening?

Nothing.

– I mean, where is everyone? – I dunno.

– Is Pierre not saying Mass? – He said he just wants us to gather.

- – Hello. - I like your skirt.

– Thanks. I like your jeans. – Yeah?

– – ELIZABETH: I like your hair.

Yeah?

Lost followers of the Roman Church!

I don't follow the Roman Church. It follows me.

We may as well, the way we're going!

- – So, what do you believe in? - Me?

I believe in something I read once on the back of a cracker.

That this is all a shrug from a sleeping mind.

Whose sleeping mind? – Well, God's, of course.

See, God's asleep and we're the dream, and when God wakes,

all of this will blow away and everything will cease

because the only perfection is nothingness.

And what is God if not perfection?

And it said, on the back of this cracker,

that when God wakes from this aberration

that he'll weep into the mercy of the void.

We just guard him while he sleeps.

– Guard him from what? – Bad dreams.

I read it on the back of a cracker. You won't remember anything I just said.

Who are you, exactly?

Ah, now, there we are!

Huh. And look...

There he is. How's it going, Stephen?

– Still looking out for number one? – Someone's gotta.

Yes indeed, huh?

You gotta take care of Numero Uno, whatever you do!

– How's it going, Elizabeth? – Mm, very good, thanks, Dermot.

– Where were you? – What?

– Where were you? – I was here.

Now...

- – Haha! Are we all gathered? - Yes!

- – What were we talking about? - You're not saying Mass, are ya?

– Not that I mind, it's just... – No, I've said Mass.

This evening is just a special...

- To gather. - I just wanted to...

Get in, will ya? C'mon! C'mon!

Billie's out there with that amadán you have minding the cows. Get in!

Stephen's here and Dermot and...

- Freya. - Freya. And here's Lydia.

Lydia!

Are the kids here?

– No. – Who's with them?

– What do you care? – Fucking brilliant. Thank you

- Here's Billie. - Are we all gathered?

- Yes. - Please, help yourselves.

- – Are we gathered? - Yes. We're gathered.

- – I'm assuming you don't need me... - Stephen, hold on, will ya?

– Let him have his spate. – This concerns you, too. Be the host.

- Are we gathered? - Yes, we're gathered.

Billie.

I stand here in this room

and once again I'm a young boy,

remembering the horseplay

and the messing that went on in here.

Our mother imploring us to stop.

Myself and my brother desperately wrestling on the floor with our father.

Our father egging us on to greater glory.

I was as surprised as anyone

when the Virgin Mary appeared to me –

out there by the hedges down at the covert –

to tell me I had a vocation.

But there it was.

I beheld the goddess, as I thought then, and I came back up here,

carrying my secret thoughts in my mind like a wounded bird.

And I nursed those thoughts and I dreamed of the Virgin,

until I went to the priests in school

to tell them my decision to join the priesthood.

My father went absolutely berserk.

Put his hand through the window out there in the kitchen door.

But I look back now, and I forgive him.

I understand now what I could never have understood then,

for how could I have known

my vocation was indeed a higher calling than anyone before me?

As soon as I entered the seminary,

I was marked for bigger things – perhaps even at the Vatican.

Ooooh! – In Rome with the Pope.

Well, I tell you, Pierre, they could do with you now.

They'll never have an Irish Pope over there. They don't have the fucking balls!

Oh, yes.

Oh, yes, oh, yes. They flew me out there,

led me round their hallowed hallways,

pointed out all the massive paintings and statues to me.

But of course, their forces had already gathered against me,

because they sensed the danger in my mind.

They were only courting me because they knew I was on to them.

Before I even quite knew it myself!

No, they banished me.

All the years I laboured in the wilderness around Dundalk.

– Oh, God! – In cold churches,

in housing estates without even a bus stop.

I conscientiously administered my mission, of course, while all the while I studied

and cogitated and fought and rowed with the bishop's inferior intellect

until – Elizabeth will tell you –

they decreed I should no longer administer the last rites

to dying parishioners.

Well...

you have to hand it to the fuckers!

Because it was indeed during the intimacies of the last rites

that I first glimpsed the entire truth.

Watching someone die,

the energy it takes a person to die,

the power they must summon within themselves to leave

is truly awe-inspiring.

What are they clinging to exactly?

Life?

Surely, by the end, life has become too painful and frightening.

Why not fall into the embrace of heaven? The release?

And yet no, every soul resists it.

Why? Shall I tell you?

Well, we're gathered...

Because nobody goes to heaven. Nobody is saved, my friends.

Every single one of us is destined for eternal damnation, I'm afraid.

Sorry, what?

What benevolent God

would create this crucible of suffering we call human life?

Only an evil, all-powerful psychopathic bastard who has made us his playthings.

So, there's no God?

An evil God, if you want to still call him a god.

But he's really the kind of opposite of God.

It's the fucking devil, my friends!

We might need snacks, so...

And the Church, for whom I have laboured my whole life,

is his infernal instrument, yes.

For the illusion of hope for salvation makes our suffering all the more acute,

and our suffering makes his sadistic pleasure all the more satisfying.

Look at the world and tell me if that doesn't make sense.

- – Yeah, it makes sense. - Yes.

So, I took my findings to the powers that be.

Like a fucking eejit!

And I explained to them that this realisation –

that there is no God only a devil – is precisely what we should be teaching.

Because this realisation, this awareness is itself

the beginning of an awakening consciousness.

This is the beginning.

This is, in fact, Genesis!

This awakening within me

is, at last, the birth of God.

So, you're God?

Yes.

– You're God-God? – Yes. I'm the beginning of God.

Good man, Pierre, fair play to you.

So, what do the lords and masters of the Vatican –

who I realise now are just the ignorant minions of the dark one – what do they do?

– They fucking sack you. – Yes. Sadly.

Just at the moment we need to spread this message

and to begin the fight, what do they do?

They cut your balls off.

Well, I mean, yes, but that's by the by.

So, look...

this brings me to the important part of the evening.

I have, with the help of Dermot and Elizabeth and...

I've been meeting with our solicitor and the bank

and looking back at my mother's will, written under, it turns out,

very peculiar circumstances where everything was left to your father.

It appears another will, in the form of a letter deposited by my mother

in a safety deposit box in Sligo, has emerged.

And fortunately, it casts light on the entire provenance of the house,

which now appears could not have been left to you, Stephen and Dermot and Billie,

because it had, in fact, already been left to myself and my brother, your father.

So, it was already half mine, you see?

Your father had no right to leave it to you because he only ever owned half of it.

I've discussed this with Dermot and we've come to an understanding

that my 50 percent, plus his...

16.6666 recurring percent.

If you divide my brother's half by three.

You all only own 16.6666 recurring percent.

And if that's added to my 50 percent gives us, myself and Dermot, an accumulated...

- Seven. - 12?

66.6666 recurring percent stake of ownership.

And as majority owners, we have decided – well, Dermot has assisted me in deciding.

I've assisted only.

This house shall now become a centre of retreat

where disciples of our new understanding might gather their strength

– for the great awakening. – The great what?

– The great awakening. – A place of quietude, replenishment,

spiritual succour.

I really mean a kind fortress,

or a kind of manger even, for the new nativity,

the real birth of our saviour, in the heart of our new ideas.

No, yeah, I get that about the devil and that,

I mean about the .666 percent and all of that.

Oh, the letter! Yes, so, here we go. I can't read it.

Now, Dad was a right cute hoor.

You'd need to keep your eyes on him like a hawk!

Great. So, you're coming to live here?

Who 'lives' anywhere?

No one really 'lives' in this purgatorial...

Yes. Stephen. Yes, he, we... will be living here.

- – With us? - In his portion.

Along with mine and Billie's and Pierre's.

And then yours, you can decide, you know, with your...

- – My portion? - Yes, you can...

- – I can live in my portion? - If that's what you want.

– I don't want to live here with you. – Absolutely!

These outhouses out the back I always thought would make beautiful cells,

– like the old monks might use. – Studio apartments.

Yes, that's what I mean. I'm telling you, one of those,

one for you, one for Billie, I'd be more than happy to look at renovations.

- – What, live out there in the shed? - They wouldn't be sheds.

With this mad bollocks and a load of old fucking priests in here?

And nuns.

Dermot, what are you even...?

Dad shouldn't have left us the house. It wasn't his to leave to us.

It belonged to both him and Pierre.

– The solicitor is appealing the deeds. – What do you mean 'appealing the deeds'?

Where am I supposed to go? Where's Billie supposed to live?

– Here! You'll live here! – With a load of mad priests?

And nuns.

- – Or you could sell your stake. - To who?

- I'll buy it. - Yeah? How much?

Well, we could negotiate, you know I'll take care of you.

– You will in your fucking shite! – Then fucking stay here!

Do what you want, except just face facts.

– They've already done it. – Done what?

I heard them. They've already done it.

- – What do you mean? - I know they have.

They were in the kitchen. They thought that I was asleep.

Billie, for fuck's sake. Listen, Stephen, the solicitor is writing...

Hold on. What did you hear? – She didn't hear anything.

I heard youse and Pierre. Youse already signed things.

She doesn't know. How would she understand?

– I heard youse. – I want to say something. It's important.

– We don't need solicitors... – What didn't she hear?

- – They're putting us out! - No, we're not!

Nobody is putting anybody out!

You're some fucking prick.

She doesn't know. How the fuck would she know? She's deaf!

I'm not deaf! I have arthritis.

Well, you must have it in your fucking ears!

- – She doesn't know what she heard. - I do!

I'd believe her before I believe you.

Well, of course you fucking would, you're like talking to a brick wall.

Yeah, I'm so inconvenient.

Dermot, I know what you're up to. You're duping him as much as you're duping us

and you're duping him.

You're gonna clear us out, use his claim to do that,

and when he's popped his clogs, we'll all be gone.

– You'll swoop in here... – Stephen, it's just business!

It's just pieces of paper. Will you just accept it and live with it?

Live with it? I'll fucking live with it!

Like I've lived with this fucking...

'Can we talk about paint?' 'Can we talk about chimpanzees?'

'Can we talk about fucking painted fucking chimpanzees?'

Till I think my fucking head's gonna fall off.

Carrying Mam up and down the fucking stairs before she died

cos you didn't bother putting a fucking downstairs jacks in.

Me put a downstairs jacks in? Why didn't you put a downstairs jacks in?

Because I've no fucking money. I've been stuck minding Billie.

And stuck with Ma till she died and you were nowhere to be fucking found.

Nobody needs to mind me.

Oh, will you ever fucking just...?

What a great job you did, Stephen, minding Billie

Will you remind me, Billie? How many times were you knocked down?

Twice. Three times.

Three times?

And where were you, huh?

Where were you while she was wandering up and down the Quay Road

getting knocked down by lorry after lorry?

You – you were inside in the fucking kitchen knocking back six packs

– with the money I gave ya. – Money you give us?

When did you give us money?

The money I've been leaving under the mat every week.

– What money? – For 13, 14 years.

– What money? Which mat? – The back mat.

I was gonna tell you.

Oh, my God!

It was money that I needed for when go into town.

Oh, my...! This is classic, the pair of ye, honest to fuck!

It's like the deaf leading the dumb.

- – You're in a war, Stephen. - Yeah. What?

A war. You know what a war is?

– You're in a war. – What war?

A war like all the other wars that we're all always in.

Where everyone has given up talking and it's trial by combat

and any doubt you have lets the enemy in and proves that you were wrong.

And whatever it is that you seem to believe in, Stephen, it has not prevailed.

Yes, all right, Elizabeth.

And all those closest to you, who had hopes for you,

and who might have protected you, they no longer trust you.

So, you've no allies and you're on your own and...

– You're losing the war, Stephen. – Well, good, I want to lose the war.

Because I don't believe in wars.

I don't believe in them, so...

And that's why you're losing. – What the fuck is even going on?

Stephen, Dermot, Stephen, lads. When I was your age...

Fuck off, you old bastard! I'll take that fucking stick.

Stephen!

Calm your engines, Rambo, or you'll get a chair!

- You see? The dark one abides. - You're the fucking dark one.

Lads, I think we should all just...

- Should what? - I don't know.

– – Calm it down a bit.

I'll calm you down! What are you even doing here?

– What? – What are you always sniffing around for?

– You told me to come up! – No I didn't! When?

– When that cheque you gave me bounced! –

All right, Brendan.

I'm on to you! I know what you're after.

Pick someone who knows how to look out for herself.

What do you mean by that?

Someone who knows how to live for herself.

– I know how to live. – Someone who's...

- – What? What? - You know what he means.

You know. He means...

Somebody who's normal.

I'm normal.

Look, Billie...

You are beyond normal!

You are fucking super-normal.

But he means someone who's...

normal-normal.

You mean like someone who's not...

– Who's not... – Now.

– Billie... – Youse are gone in your fucking heads!

None of youse is worth one animal!

The chickens! They had a whole life, a whole world.

An old dog has more love in his heart than all a youse put together.

They don't even know who you are, they just love your presence!

– Get her off! – They can feel your presence!

They know you have a soul, but I never understand what you're saying.

I understand a dog barking, but I never understand any of youse.

I never do!

- What's happened? - Youse have all reached that age.

Not me. Where death has come and touched you.

You might not be old people, but youse are all like someone who's been stabbed.

You can run along for a little while, but death has come and touched you.

I see it everywhere!

The bags under peoples' eyes.

- – The denial that your hair is gone! - I can't get up.

What? You're all right. What's wrong with you?

Something awful's happened to me!

– Dermot, get up. – I didn't do anything to him.

– – PIERRE: Dermot?

– No, Dermot. Dermot. – What?

– I can see ya. – What?

I can see ya.

I see you all!

Thank God! Thank God!

I can see!

'Now!'

I was sorry to hear about your mum.

Oh, hi.

I was sorry to hear about your mother.

Yeah. Er... Thank you.

– You found her? – Yeah.

– In the toilet? – Yeah.

Well, that must have been weird.

I thought she might have fallen or collapsed or something, but...

Yeah.

– I'm sorry I wasn't at the funeral. – That's OK.

– No one told me that it was on. – Don't worry, I know.

You play nice.

Hm? Oh, er... Nah. I can't play at all.

We used to have a piano in the pub. I got lessons.

Not since I was in fourth class now.

– You living up there on your own now? – Yeah.

What's it like? It must be nice?

It's quiet.

The same old lads come in. They don't say much.

– I'd say that's how you like it. – It's always been like that.

Some big changes here?

Our uncle is living here now, the priest.

People are coming here to live with him and pray with him.

People are coming today.

They're gonna stay here and have a special Mass, it's mad.

– Stephen's moving out? – Yeah. He's going.

Yeah, he told me to wait here. He's gone to the bank to get me my money.

– You're finally gonna get it? – Ah, yeah. Yeah.

– I told him not to bother, but... – Yeah.

– Yeah. – Yeah.

– You're not going with him when he goes? – Nah.

Nah. No.

Happy enough here.

Here, listen, why don't I come up to you some evening?

– I could help you. – Yeah?

– You know I like you, Brendan. – Er, yeah?

Yeah. I always do, you know that.

I could come over. I could help you.

– It wouldn't be quiet. – Er, yeah. That's for sure.

I'll come over. I can come tonight. I can come any night.

Yeah. Yeah... Er, yeah.

Er, yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Look, um...

You know Freya?

– Who? – Freya.

– Freya... – What about her?

Well, she comes, and so she's just been helping out...

– My brother Dermot's Freya? – Yeah.

That's young enough to be his daughter?

– She's not... They don't any more. – She's coming up there with you?

She has experience working behind a bar and...

– Is she your girlfriend? – Well, I don't know.

You don't know? How come you don't know something like that, Brendan?

– I don't know. – You don't know how you don't know?

Like how fucking stupid are you, Brendan?

Er... I don't know.

– How long has she been coming up there? – She gave me a hand when my mum died.

– She got in on the scene? – No. No, she helped me.

Oh 'She helped me'? You saw how she was helping my brother, Dermot.

– Have you seen him now? He can't walk! – Yeah, look, Billie...

I would have helped you, Brendan. All you had to do was say, 'Help me.'

– I help everybody. – I know, I know...

You do know about her, about Freya, don't ya? Even her own mother knew it.

Tried to tell people. Said that she'd been changed out.

And look what happened to her. Her mother is in the mental hospital in Ballinasloe.

– Because that's what they do. – What who does?

– What they do! She's one of them! – One of who?

Don't make me say it. You're gonna make me look like I'm mad as well.

You know what I mean. I fucking dreamed about her.

I saw her.

She was there, under the hawthorn and the rocks

and the little brown streams you can only hear in the ditch.

Even in under the all old graves,

she's been all in under there, you don't smell it?

– You can't smell that off her? – Her house is damp.

Her house is damp, my fuck!

You can't even see she's had a million faces and she's gonna do you next

now that your mother's gone and there's no more rosaries being said up there.

But you don't know, though, do you?

Because you don't know what madness is and where you go when it gets you.

It's a whole other world, but you don't know, though.

How alone you are now, and how tired you're gonna be.

– Billie. – Yeah, I'm not interested, Brendan.

Keep all that shit out of here.

It's a good thing there's gonna be someone saying Mass here all the time.

– I'm sorry. You know I like you. – Who cares?

– I do want us to be friends. – Nobody cares.

Well, I'm not able to do that.

Hello?

- Is Stephen about? - Yeah.

- – He's on his way from the bank. - Ah, there you are now, Brendan.

– Good man yourself. – Do you want a hand?

– Huh? – Do you want a hand?

No, I'm grand, I'll be grand, I just need to, um...

Billie, would you grab that little, um...?

Fuck's sake.

Oh, Brendan. Brendan, I was very sorry to hear about your mother.

– Yeah, thank you. – Very sudden.

– I woulda been at the funeral only... – I know thanks very much, thank you.

- It was lovely. - Yeah, it was very nice.

I think she woulda been very, very pleased.

Oh, yeah. And the music. Did you pick all of that?

Well, yeah...

Yeah, Freya helped him.

Do they, by any chance, know what's caused your... situation?

They just said it's a lack of weakness, Brendan, a lack of...

– A lack of power. – A lack of power.

A lack of power down in the back of the, um...

– What do you call the fucking...? – The lumbar.

The lumbar.

I just need a little rest, Brendan. I'll be fine.

It's unusual!

But sure I'm unusual.

And I'll tell you something, Brendan, getting around like this with the sticks?

It really builds up the arms. Look at that.

Look at those. Look at me now, I'm like a man half my age now!

– – DERMOT: So, watch out!

Billie, would there be a drink in the house?

– Father Pierre won't allow it. – What?

– This is a house of retreat now. – Oh, Jesus, yeah.

– Like you didn't know that? – I did.

I just didn't realise there'd be no drink involved.

Yeah, well, nobody knows anything.

Do you ever stop fucking wangalizing on about everything all the fecking time?

The place is falling down. – Well, sell it.

Move us into a flat.

Turning the place into some kind of looney convent for a load of Jesus lose-bags.

No, there's money in religion. The old fucker is on to something.

I don't think you even care about religion.

You're just doing this to me and Stephen

so you can stink us out and not give us anything.

Why would I even do that?

Why would you do anything? It's because you hate people.

– Ah, look. – You always did.

It's why you're the way you are now, you're being punished.

No, it's not! No, it's...

It's just a lack of power down in my back or else my legs

or some kinda lumbarnacle they said I...

– I just need to rest. – Nah, you're a picture of your soul.

– And you as well, Lydia. – What did I do?

You tell me cos you're stuck with him, like some sad old fucking nursemaid.

– He's my husband. – Exactly! You're a fucking eejit!

– – Oh, give it!

Hello, hello, hello.

Hello, Billie. And hello, Dermot.

And hello, Lydia. And hello...?

– Brendan. – That's right.

Look at you all. My apologies if you've been waiting for me.

I needed to replenish my wardrobe.

I haven't seen myself in many years,

and had no idea how Elizabeth was dressing me!

No, I'm only joking of course, she did her best, she always does.

But by God, now that our first pilgrims will be arriving

and I thank you that you've all joined me to celebrate,

- – and their deposits are safely on... - On deposit.

I can assure you this house will be reborn now.

Ah Stefan Stephanovich, my friend.

I was just saying how this house is about to reborn.

Stay, Stephen. Stay to see it.

- I can't. Sorry. - Father, tell us.

– What did they say about your eyes? – Where?

In your head.

In Sligo General Hospital.

Oh, yes!

The top man there, he isn't usually there,

he's more a psychologist than an ophthalmologist.

He was only home from Dublin on his holidays by chance,

but they got him in to look at me and what he was saying was

it turns out it was a kind of force of psychology.

Like I was willing myself not to see because I couldn't bear what I was seeing!

I could actually see all along.

I just couldn't accept what I was seeing so I didn't see it.

Isn't that fascinating?

- – Not really, no. - Stephen!

I mean, I totally get it. It makes sense.

What a waste of all that time, can you imagine?

And poor Elizabeth!

Will we get the drinks? Yes.

He's going to get a brilliant student from Trinity to come and interview me

for a paper they want to give at some conference in Lucerne next summer.

Ooh You know, Stephen does that.

– Does what? – Won't see things.

Yeah, it must run in the family.

It's the same with me.

I think what's happened in my legs is that I've been forced to rest.

Forced to stop running around after everybody.

Freya.

Sorry, Brendan, are you ready? It's just my...

– Yeah, yeah... – Brendan, what? How?

Stephen...

How are you, Mrs McFaddin?

Yeah. Yeah, I'm all right.

– Mr McFaddin? – I'm terrific.

– Thank you. – Good, good.

– How are you? – Grand, yeah.

– How's your mother? – She's much better, thanks. She's home.

Oh, well, isn't that good?

– It's good to have her now. – She's out of Ballinasloe and all?

– Yeah. I'm minding her now. – OK, you're doing the minding.

Look, I'm sorry that I've missed a lot of work, but I'm available.

Like I'm happy to come in on Saturdays and Sundays.

OK, well, we'll consider that so.

It's just that we had a lot of...

My sister was gone and my mam was confused.

But she's better now so, I...

Look, I just... I want to apologise to you, Mrs McFaddin.

OK.

I'm aware that there's been a lot of turmoil because of...

But I don't remember a huge amount of it, but I know that there was.

And I was...

Well...

Well, I don't know if I was ever really there.

– What do you mean? – Yeah.

No, well, I...

- – I've taken the pledge. - What?

- All right. - You've taken the pledge?

– The pledge of abstinence. – No!

No, no, now, now...

Now, aren't you a good girl?

I am very sorry.

Well, we forgive you.

You're better now, and that's the main, you know.

- Yes. - So, every cloud.

Stay, Stephen. Father Pierre needs you here. We all need you.

- Where are you off to anyway? - Glasgow.

Fucking Glasgow? You'll be back by the end of the week, just watch!

Stay, we could use the help.

- – I could use a... - Stephen, are you all right?

We're gonna head off... – Please, no, Bernard.

Help us toast the arrival of our first pilgrims. Give him a glass and for Freyda.

- – Ooh! - Are you all right?

Yeah. You see this cravat?

It's silk.

Oh my G... What a journey!

To think where I was only a few months ago and now we stand virtually

on the establishment of a – I won't say a new church,

but certainly something close to the one true church.

The one true church.

Now that I can see again, I, um...

I apprehend everything in a new...

I mean, what if this life, rather than just torture, as I had imagined it,

what if it's all in fact the most beautiful sacrifice, huh?

That each of us has the privilege to offer?

To turn to God, broken,

and offer Him our broken,

humbled, humiliated spirit,

shorn of dignity.

Isn't that, in fact, the purest gift of thanks one could give, in return for...?

In return for what?

In return for everything. –

What's wrong with you?

I'm after doing my business in my house trousers.

– God, Dermot, no. – No, no, no.

– I can stand, if you just help me. – Help him, someone, Billie?

I'm not getting wee on me!

Help us, Billie.

– You won't get wee on you! – I can walk if you...

Freya?

Brendan, here. Good man. Get the door.

– Do you think we did this to him? – Did what?

The water from the little tap.

Maybe no one needs it twice.

Fuck knows, but you got him in the end, didn't you?

You're just gonna walk away from us all?

What else can I do? I can't stay here.

And I can't help loving him. I can't stop it.

Who chooses who they love, anyway?

Well maybe if you hadna given me the water,

I'd be free to wander into a different trap.

At least one I understood.

Hm.

Hm.

Do you know what's mad?

It's that...

under all the...

Under all the magic or the spell or the illusion or whatever it is...

..I can feel you under here.

Under it all.

– You are in here somewhere. – Under all the brambles?

It's true.

Maybe if you could stay...

– Somehow. – I can't.

You can. Stay out there, take up Pierre's offer.

Let them do it up like a nice apartment, you could still live here.

For what?

I don't know.

For something.

- – For something... - Lydia.

Lydia.

Would you ever tell them to fucking leave me alone?

– Can you stand? – Can I stand? Amn't I fucking standing?

You don't look so good. Let me get the chair.

Don't get the wheels! I don't need the fucking chair.

Well, you can't fight destiny, I suppose.

And I need her now.

Condemned to fucking need her now.

Here, Stephen, before you, um...

I always wanted, er...

But I could never...

get...

Here, do you need a few quid?

Well, if you ever do. Ah, Lydia.

– Will you get in the chair? – I don't need the chair.

– Get in the fucking chair. – I'll get in the chair. Yeah, so nice!

Take the sticks, will you?

I'll tell you one thing, though, Stephen.

You'd do a lot worse than finding a woman like this for yourself.

I'll keep an eye out.

Take me home. I want to go home.

I'll see ya.

Pierre is gonna say a prayer in the garden.

Down at the gate.

The new people will be here soon.

Can we talk about trains?

You're gonna get the train, aren't you?

You lucky fucker!

– You won't take me with you? – I'm no good for you, Billie.

– I don't know how you can say that. – I can't look after you.

– But you do. You always do. – But I can't any more. I can't do it.

I can't talk about trains all the time.

I can't wait here while you go into town, wondering what's happened to you.

I can't just give you every day helping you find things you keep losing

cos I'm living on the edge of your next frigging meltdown.

– But I won't melt down. – But you do, Billie, you just do.

But I won't. I'm telling you I won't.

If you take me with you, I'll never do it again.

– I won't hit you. I won't shout. – I don't think you're able not to.

It's not like against you.

I don't mean it because I don't like you. It's just what happens.

But you don't hit people in the street, you don't hit people in shops

– or someone you want something off. – Because I feel safe with you.

Can't you see what it costs me? Can't you see what you're doing to me?

– I don't mean it. – It doesn't matter.

I feel like I'm getting old, like I'm dying!

– I'm not doing that to you. – Billie, leave me alone, will ya?

– What? – Just leave me alone!

– Stephen... – WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?

No, nothing! Nothing! Nothing.

I'll write to you. I'll let you know how I'm getting on.

They'll mind you better than me, anyway. Elizabeth is organised.

There'll be people coming through here, you can get on with your life.

And mind the place. Honestly, it'll all be better, anyway.

– You'll never come back. – Well...

– I know that you won't. – We'll just give it a chance.

You'll bury the memory of love.

Because that's what it is, you know.

The memory of how I climbed into your lap and we'd sit in the light of the window

and laugh about nothing.

You won't even remember my face in the end.

Life will be too difficult if you remember, so you won't remember.

And even when you're old and you haven't seen me for 30 years,

you come to Ireland to collect my things

and they tell you how it was for me at the end,

how my trips to the hospital became more frequent and prolonged,

you'll suddenly have a vague recollection of my face,

but you won't allow yourself to really see me there.

No.

Instead, you'll take my things in a plastic bag

and you'll sit on a cold steel bench beside a bin in the railway station

and you'll look up at the timetable

and you'll marvel at how alien the world feels.

The human world of clocks and travel,

and the endless illusions of arriving,

and you'll remark to yourself how meaningless it all is.

But then you'll know

that somewhere in the darkness there'll be a quieter, hidden fear.

That perhaps it does all mean something.

That perhaps it's all this simple.

You really knew me.

And I really knew you.

And in those moments, in each other, we saw the face of God.

And once seen, it's never really banished.

From your heart. Not really.

You'll wonder about your own end. Will you be alone?

Will it perhaps be by your own hand? It's not inconceivable.

And for a brief moment, you'll suspect that everything will be all right,

because you'll suspect that even then, right at the end,

I will be there.

And I will hold your hand.

And I will forgive you.

But you'll also banish these thoughts. Well, you'll have to.

And you'll remember how much of living is really just forgetting.

- Put these up the far end. - Can we talk?

Set the table and you can talk about whatever you want.

– You start. – OK. Railway stations.

Yes. Stations. Go.

– Limerick Junction. – Yeah.

– Talk to me. – There's no town there.

Just a station.

No one lives there, no one stays there, you just transfer.

– You come and go. – Yeah, go anywhere. Like to a real place.

– Escape anywhere. – Yeah.

– No one would know which way you went. – And there's no town there?

There's nothing there.

It's the middle of Tipperary. It's like a magic door.

Get yourself a ticket to Limerick Junction,

change platforms, and poof –

you're gone!

– Boom. – Shoot across to Rosslare Harbour.

Ferry to Le Havre.

SNCF to Paris, Orient Express to Istanbul.

If you don't mind...

If you don't mind changing in Bucharest.

– I don't mind. – OK, well, once a week I think it is.

There's a service to Teheran, get yourself down there,

through Iran, across Pakistan,

bang, down to into New Delhi, and on to Varanasi.

– You know what's there of course? – No.

In Varanasi? The Manikarnika Ghat.

Where the steps lead down to the River Ganges.

They cremate the bodies of the dead there 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

You wanna be cremated there Lydia, you know why?

– Why? – Because if you're burned there,

your bones are thrown in the River Ganges, you won't be reincarnated any more.

You're free.

Your soul is washed clean and you can finally return to nothingness.

With none of this life stuck on you any more.

Well, I must do that, then.

Yeah.