Original subtitles

This might be way out of line. Will you marry me?

- Yes. - What...

Yes, David, I would love to go to dinner with you.

It's a start.

Sophia, why have you chosen

to speak about Danny's drug dealing now?

I'd like fans of his game to learn from his mistakes.

Don't ask me to forgive you.

The only person who came out of that interview looking good was you.

Your father tyrannised your soul.

Daddy dearest, my body.

And I'm the first person you've told?

The second.

You can't say things like that about your father.

I got no joy from that.

Is that it? The full story?

You know how much I love you.

Oh, I know.

Every revolting detail.

- What have you done? - Touch of revenge.

You should try it sometime, feels fabulous.

It does.

I need your help with Mummy.

Glad to see you're still kicking.

- I'd rather walk. - I insist you don't.

Thank you.

- How is he? - Disturbingly amenable.

Julian said he might change. False hope?

Possibly not.

It's good to have you back.

Just like Boogaloo.

Ahh! Electric Boogaloo!

We saw a dog like Boogaloo, didn't we?

Oh, I bet that got you going!

We both had a dance.

You stay right here.

I'll toss the DVD in with his things.

He'll want to watch it again now he's been reminded.

Lucky those things never wear out.

Are you sure you're up to having him back so soon?

- When haven't I been? - Mm.

I thought you were finished with the Walfords?

Cate almost begged.

I like her. It's top dollar.

I'll be paying one day, when you can't help with him.

There's life in the old girl yet!

Mm.

It'll be 24/7 again for a while.

Yeah, I'll cope. And he'll try.

He always misses you.

We'll video call. He understands.

- He can't hug a screen. - Mum.

He loves your cuddles.

Snatch an hour or two, if you can.

Phillip's not someone you skive off from.

We both miss cuddles.

This cellular memory guff, what do you make of it?

I wouldn't have taken you for

an "I'm adopting aspects of my donor" type.

If this heart is changing me,

I wanna know where it came from.

There are strict rules regarding that.

Screw the rules.

If someone is changing me from within, I wanna know who.

You can't be serious.

Deadly.

You look like you could use one of these.

Thanks.

What's he done?

I'm handballing it on.

Julian Lee's got a fight on his hands.

I'll get dinner started.

- Oh. - I've got it.

- You sure? - I'll call when it's ready.

Thank you.

For... ?

Not making me feel guilty about dinner with David.

It's nice to see you smiling.

Mum.

Danny would want you to go.

Did you call anyone else?

Haven't got Cliff and Deb's number.

- Sophia? - Hers either.

They say they got her just in time.

She panicked and she rang me.

She threw up and was choking on it when they arrived.

- She did it dressed like that? - On Danny's bed.

- Where's Mrs. Grey? - At my shack.

What if Sophia had found her? Was that the idea?

She's not thinking straight.

To punish her for the interview. She's always been self-centred.

- Hey! - You know she has.

She's a mess!

There's messed up and there's vicious, Marc.

I'll get Cliff and Deb's number.

You call. My attitude might show.

Sophia doesn't need this. I'll tell her in the morning.

They were asking who else lives here.

I'll talk to them. Stupid girl.

I know you think I'm being tough,

but it's not on, not on any level.

I'm glad she's okay.

He's not interested in hearing no.

- You explained the protocols? - Of course.

So I'm the big guns?

- Before you do... - After.

- I really do think you should... - This first.

- Man on a mission. - Insufficiently briefed.

So, who summoned you?

- The wife or the nurse? - Sandra.

She's got a big mouth.

Cate hasn't told you, then?

She tried to talk when I arrived.

I bet she did. How comfortable is her bed?

Wait, wait, Sandra first.

I think we should talk about Cate.

My room, my agenda. Sandra.

It seems ridiculous discussing that

when you know about Cate and me.

The easy stuff first. Just give me a name.

Look, you're not understanding the ethics of the process.

No. Now, Cate and I...

The topic changes when I say so.

What part of Sandra's explanation didn't you grasp?

The donor's family and I can correspond anonymously

through a central agent.

Eventually we can meet, if it's mutually agreed to,

at which point they will know who I am.

I don't want them to, I just want to know whose heart I have.

Why?

To see what I might have inherited with it.

You are actually buying cellular memory?

I would have called it mumbo-jumbo too, once.

People change after a transplant, Phillip.

And some of those changes can be correlated

with aspects of the donor.

But to say those changes come from the donor,

they are inherited with the organ,

that's Twilight Zone, it's not Lancet.

I go on facts.

Fact, I'm not my old self.

Fact, I keep making this two-fingered salute

like some bloody Tourette's twitch.

Fact, I'm watching Aussie rules and enjoying it,

for Christ's sake,

and I keep dreaming about some woman I've never seen before!

Well, I'll add that to the mountain of scientific data.

And spare me Dr. Google.

Just get me my donor's names so I can see if any of it matches.

I don't care what it costs!

- I can't. - Everything has a price.

Not this. There's process for a reason.

End of discussion.

You want to talk Cate? Okay.

How does Cate for a name sound?

- I hope you're joking. - I'm opening negotiations.

You are something.

Write the letter.

It'll be passed on to the donor's family anonymously.

They can reply or not, anonymously.

- There's no negotiating. - Don't you walk away from me.

If I want Cate, I'll have her.

I don't have to breach medical ethics to do it.

What do you call screwing your patient's wife?

You're not my patient.

As of now, so there's no problem.

I'll arrange a replacement.

And if there is any truth to cellular memory,

I hope your heart comes with a good serving of soul.

Because, boy, could you use it.

- I'll ruin you. - Have at it.

Check on him.

No, security.

He's aware I wiped your other visits.

He just offered me a trade.

You for the name of his donor.

No.

So I doubt he'll be too shattered when you leave.

I'm stepping away as his cardiologist.

How did he take that?

I'm on official notice to expect ruin.

Pack your bags, forget your scruples.

- Leave now. - No, no.

The easiest way to hurt you is an accusation of misconduct.

Here, I can deny that as paranoia.

Gone, I'm an admission of guilt.

Let's keep our distance for now.

I'll call, we'll talk.

- I'm required? - That's putting it mildly.

Let him stew.

_

Yep. Yeah.

Okay.

Gotta go. Trouble in paradise.

Oh. I might stay.

It's too good to skull.

I'll call.

- I've been off the grid. - Obviously.

I was going to call you tomorrow.

So this is just coincidence?

It's a small town for a big town.

Your message, "death and destruction".

For whom?

A fetid, stinking, smarmy servant of God.

♪ Woman your love is right... ♪

I love this song.

Chocho loco.

"Crazy pussy".

I've heard that before.

Your thoughts?

You got what you wanted with your father.

Justice.

The buzz of that's faded. I'd like more.

Payback for incest has its own twisted logic,

but why the bishop?

I was 16, I told him what was happening.

He called Daddy to come and get me.

I was the problem, it seems, my overactive imagination.

Well, you do have one.

I never reimagine what's done.

I imagine the future.

What I want done.

And right now, I'm imagining Welles dead.

Extreme.

What happened when Daddy got me home was too.

And that old hypocrite enabled it and all that came after.

While he went on about church and family.

It's his turn to suffer.

A perfect murder's feasible, with planning.

Two could raise a flag on both.

Just one more. Fool-proof, like the other.

You have access to a gun, right?

Of course.

I've got a guy who's stalking me.

You were so adorably blasé when you twigged.

A stalker?

I'm shattered, of course.

Give me ten sets of grief.

Supplying the gun makes you an accessory after the fact.

If I had done it.

You keep on surprising.

I do have something you could help me with.

I need something retrieved.

Name your price.

Leave it with me.

I'd offer you a bonus, but I'm a one-man girl now.

I hope he knows better than to cross you.

Oh, he loves me too much for that.

He should read up on the praying mantis.

As much as you might want to sit there and brood,

the health benefits are dubious.

How long before I'm out?

Ten, twenty minutes.

- Send her up, then. Now. - She refused.

Change her bloody mind, then!

Sorry.

Apology appreciated.

Get her.

Have you seen him yet?

I was just heading up now.

Any way I can help?

I'm just pleased you're here.

I've given him a couple of sleepers.

He'll be inclined to be amenable.

Yeah, I'm not sure that's in his dictionary.

Give me your phone.

Just press send if you need me.

What can he do?

Just in case.

It's not my fault!

Don't you walk away when I'm talking to you.

I pay a fortune for your education.

- I try. - That'd make you a slowy.

No son of mine's a slowy, you hear?!

- You're the slowy! - Don't you ever say that!

You hear me? Never!

"To sleep, perchance to dream".

Some smart-arsed quote

is meant to give you the advantage, is it?

Yours or your alter ego's?

The dream.

Ah. Very much mine.

No cellular memory?

Come on, Phillip. You're the ultimate pragmatist.

The fact I'd even consider the nonsense proves I've changed.

You were whimpering.

I doubt it.

Seeing you vulnerable reminded me of our early days.

Now, you put the kibosh on those.

Dream women, salutes, Aussie rules.

But if you're so desperate to find your donor,

you do it through the proper channels.

Don't try and trade me away.

I need to say this, before I'm asleep and before I regret it.

The cage is open.

Stay, go, make your choice, consequence free.

And you're right.

As much as I'd love to topple the prick,

he's God in his own world.

I'd come out looking like

an ungrateful, paranoid bastard, so...

my zipper gets you both off the hook.

- Is this another game? - No.

I went him.

And then I thought, "What's the point?"

I'm tired of our battleground.

Maybe it is just the operation.

But I do feel different.

It feels more than...

It does, it feels.

I'd have never let you go before.

Never.

So...

thank whose ever heart it is.

- What'd he do? - Nothing.

I must have pressed it by mistake.

He was startlingly reasonable.

- Meaning? - I'm not sure.

Mum!

I have to face them sometime.

Maybe a call.

Oh, I want them to see I'm not angry about it.

And what if they're angry at you?

Then I'll take it on the chin.

I only just heard or I would have come sooner.

It's because of that interview.

Cliff, it's enough of a mess without blame.

I'm not happy with her for going to your place, that was cruel.

But so is what you did with that interview.

She's been admitted for observation.

Suicide watch, they call it. And counselling.

I am so sor...

- Sorry. - She wants to see you.

They didn't see why, but she does.

Martina was pleased to hear you've come.

Try not to upset her.

Here's your visitor, Martina.

Call if she becomes agitated.

We don't expect that though, do we?

Sit.

She keeps talking about "we".

We do this, we feel that.

I just wanna say, "I'm going through hell, we aren't".

I think that'd earn me a nice little black mark

in the crazy book.

- Don't. - It's how it is.

If anything I did led to this, I am sorry.

I want you to be sorry.

I wanted you to find my body.

Do you know why you didn't?

Tell me.

Danny came to me.

And I guess I imagined it.

But it was as if he was really there.

I died so a whole load of people could live.

This is wrong.

He was right.

To kill myself would have made a mockery

of every bit of good that came from his death,

all those people who got his organs.

So I didn't get to hurt you like I wanted to.

And I really... really wanted to.

So what I want now...

is to never see you again.

I wanted to tell you to your face.

- You can go now. - Sweetheart...

You lost the right to call me that.

Danny told me not to kill myself,

he never said I had to forgive you for trashing him in public.

That's all.

That's all.

I'll eat down there.

- Let me lose this. - I don't need help.

You'll be lightheaded. Use the handrail.

I'll see you there.

Sit, you're making me nervous.

It's good to see your appetite again.

I'll need my strength.

I'm getting back into the swing.

Too much too soon and there won't be any swing.

Word gets out I'm soft, the jackals will gather.

They know you're sick.

They need to see recovery, strength.

Has Cate told you she's leaving?

She said you offered the option.

I see that as strength.

Plenty won't.

Back on deck.

- I'm relying on you. - To?

- Get me back into the office. - When?

- Now. - That's just foolish!

I can do it with your help. Oh, and one other thing.

Nothing that involves exertion.

Do everything you can to get me that name.

- I can't. - There must be a way.

Find it and I'll be grateful.

Very.

Throw on something presentable.

I don't want you looking like a nurse.

Mr. Walford! It's good to see you up and about.

You've been missed, sir.

- Dad? - Later.

- Welcome back, sir. - The slack-off's over.

Told you I could.

I thought we were keeping our distance.

He's offered to let me go.

No strings. He says he's sick of the whole thing.

It felt genuine.

- When was this? - Last night.

He was more likely tired,

or it's a ploy to get the name out of me.

What if it's not?

Transplant patients' emotions vary wildly.

Today's "fly free" is tomorrow's "you're not going anywhere".

No, it felt real.

What?

Just for a moment, he was like... old Phillip.

He used to be kind.

Hard to imagine.

No, he was.

We were happy.

You said.

How did it make you feel, his seeming his old self?

It gave me hope...

for whatever any change might mean.

Do you think it's possible?

Look, anything's possible.

But a personality transplant?

It's unlikely.

Keep your guard up.

It was nice not to have to for a moment.

I thought you should know that.

- I've been thinking. - Refreshing.

I'm trying to have a serious conversation.

I've made some decisions.

We'll sell the house.

Hopefully enough time has passed for the sale

not to be affected by what happened.

And it will free up some capital,

so I'm not as dependent on you.

I don't mind.

You have your future and I have mine.

Yours being?

Well, moving on.

Discarding this obsession with Phillip Walford.

- That's a turnaround. - So I don't hamper your hopes.

You see those as being what?

Bart Walford. Marriage.

Ahh.

What is that supposed to mean?

It's a good idea. Sell the house.

Let's move on.

And I'm happy to do your dirty work for you.

Transparent is what you are, but I'll get what I want

and you'll get what you want, so what could we possibly want more?

And what do I want?

You want to pull Phillip Walford's world down

from inside while Bart and I

suck the marrow from the bones of the empire.

And I have no problem with that.

Message for Bart?

- It's more comfortable inside. - It's more private out here.

No more games.

No more kink.

No more perverse.

Hopefully still exciting.

Marry me.

Telling you what my father did to me

and seeing you still want me made me realise I want you,

and I'm not too proud to risk the worst rejection of my life

by saying it.

We've done everything else the unorthodox way,

- why not the prop... - Yes.

Yes, it's all been arse-about?

Or yes yes?

Yes.

I love you.

Our secret.

Till they're ready.

Our wonderful secret.

I love you too.

Hi!

I just came to check on your mum.

Oh, um, she's not here.

She's... she's out.

Well, uh, no worries. Won't stop.

Um, come in.

It's okay.

I'm working on a new piece, but it can wait.

You just want an excuse to stop.

Mm.

Is she okay about Marti? Your mum?

Yeah, mostly.

Tell her I'll drop back tomorrow.

- Please, um... - Keep at it.

You're not annoyed about me bailing you up at the oval?

No.

Just got a bit on.

Tell her if I don't make it, I'll drop back Monday for sure.

Yeah, yeah. I will.

- Thank you. - Okay.

I'll be back soon to take your order.

There's no rush.

This is beautiful.

- I didn't quite expect... - Stick with me, kid.

It's like I tell the lads at training.

It's all in the follow-through.

Yes, coach!

Hmm. So many choices.

Made mine.

The sum of you.

So what is this? An exorcism?

I'm helping her move on.

- And what about you? - Huh!

Why do you care?

- No-one else does. - They do.

Poor Danny, poor Martina, poor Sophia.

Bella?

I just... am. I'm just...

I'm just... there.

Mum, 40+, out on a date, and me sitting at home with my piano.

What are you gonna do about it?

Martina beat me to the punch there.

I've thought about it a few times.

No.

I couldn't do it to Mum.

I have to find out a way to stop being invisible.

Because that's what I am.

Cellophane.

Mm. The fish is wonderful.

Mm. This isn't bad either.

- Last time I... - I...

You go.

- No, you! - Okay.

Here's where I stand.

You were a great wife to Paul.

I know there were ups and downs.

I admired the way you handled it.

And when Sheree died,

I don't know what I would have done without you.

And watching you now...

... we're not kids.

We're past being moonstruck.

How I feel's come over time.

Maybe not the romantic way to get there, but I am there.

That's it.

Well, I always thought you had great legs.

You always could put things into perspective.

Well, then, to perspective.

- It helps. - Mm-hm.

I had a lovely time. Thank you.

It was my pleasure.

Oh. Mm.

How about a picnic with the girls soon?

You're on.

Your legs aren't too bad either.

How'd it go?

- Good. - Good.

It's time.

Isn't it?

- It's so empty. - You're not angry?

You felt the need to do it?

I suddenly felt we both did.

I'm sorry if I'm wrong.

If you needed to do it, you're not.

I need some time.

- I thought you said 24/7? - He's a resilient bugger.

He's been doing an hour or so a day at the office for the last week.

Can't be long.

Well, it's just good to see you.

- Isn't it? - Hm.

Has he been giving you a hard time?

What? No.

Oddly, the opposite.

There's times when he's disturbingly mellow.

But there is a problem.

There's a way I could ensure Thomas's future.

And that's a bad thing?

The end's not.

The means?

Probably the worst thing I've done in my life.

So, when is he telling his mongrel father you're engaged?

When it's right.

Now, do you wanna hear something delicious?

When have I not?

Phillip has this weird notion

that he's being changed by his new heart.

Ridiculously delicious.

- Just between us. - I'm done causing mischief!

So, the mighty Phillip Walford going soft.

Hmm, might explain why Julian Lee's still standing.

There's someone I need to talk to.

You're an engaged woman, remember.

- Strictly business. - He's gorgeous.

- Out of bounds. - Huh!

What took you so long?

You need at least a week to establish patterns.

I can give you options for murder.

Perfect murder, not so much.

- I've an idea, though. - Yes?

How about a perfect living death?

Could be even more fun.

- What are you... - Watch his pain.

Watch his God turn against him.

Watch him lose everything.

And know it was all your doing.

At least use the chair when you're tired.

- I'm not tired. - You need to rest.

You have overdone it.

I've got enough left in me for the stairs.

Get my bed sorted.

Yes, of course, master.

There's a letter for you.

I put it in your room.

Right. Thanks.

Don't keep him too long.

Not up to me.

Every day I come home and every day, here you are.

I'm planning a charity lunch.

- For? - The heart unit.

What a dutiful little mistress.

Wife. It's on your behalf.

I open the cage and ten days later,

you're still on the perch?

I'm staying there.

You don't trust me.

I'm fascinated by whatever transformation

you're convinced you're having.

Maybe you just got so used to war,

the prospect of peace with him seems dull.

Maybe I don't trust you.

And the one time you can...

Ruddy hell.

Outwearing its welcome?

You sure you're up to this?

I'd better be.

We'd better be.

Last chance.

- Are you sure? - Let's pray he buys it.

I can't blame her for being wary.

Oh, have your shower, before you run out of puff.

The games we've played.

Game on.

- Oh, wow. - Throw another one!

Throw another one!

Hello, this is Bella Grey. I'm a former client.

I'd like to book an appointment, please.

Yeah. Breast augmentation and fillers,

maybe a rhinoplasty possibly, possibly more.

- You ready for your nap? - Yes, officially knackered.

Hurrah, he admits it!

Before you settle...

that letter I got was from my transplant contact.

He didn't want anything as incriminating as an email.

I promised him you'd be grateful.

What's this?

I destroyed the original.

He's paranoid, he could lose his job.

Name and pertinent details.

Your donor.

Danny Grey.

What now?