All language subtitles for LUNA (2014) - R - dervla kirwan

I thought I remembered that weekend
really clearly.

Now, I'm not so sure.

LUNA

So, when did they reply?

I think it was last weekend.

I didn't realise you'd actually sent it.

So, what did she say?

- What?
- In the letter?

She said, you know,
they'd be here around six.

Yeah, but, I mean,
what else did she say?

- About what?
- About everything.

Everything? What would you expect
from them, a novel?

You know what I mean. Did she say
how they were, how they were coping?

No. it was just a quick thanks for
the invite, estimated time of arrival.

You can read it yourself.
It's in the studio.

Hey.

It'll be fine.
They're your closest friends.

I'm the one who should be nervous.
They barely know me.

I don't know what I'm gonna say.
What are we supposed to say to them?

You know, the usual.

We usually talk about
what we're doing, our work.

But Grant's not even working any more.

- He is teaching, isn't he?
- Yeah, he's not painting, though.

He's teaching at a special needs school.

- Well, that's a great thing to do.
-Yes, no, I...

You know what? This is a bad idea.

I should never have let you
send that letter.

You say, "Hello. It's lovely
to see you. Thanks for coming."

And everything else will follow.
Just relax.

Well, I...

You said this T-junction was coming up.
That was 20 minutes ago.

The scale of this thing
is all up the creek.

We're on roads that are just vague,
wandering, spidery black lines.

No, we're here. It's the T-junction.

What does the sign say?

It says Upper Mank a mile and a half.

What's left?

Well, we're not going left.
You said go right.

Yeah, I know, but what is left?

Lower Mank.

Mank, Jesus.
Who lives in a place called Lower Mank?

OK, but it is right, and Ebony
is about five miles past Upper...

- Mank.
- Indeed.

So do you want me to take this right?

- Yeah.
- Great.

Hang on a second. That's a left
and that's a signpost for Ebony.

But it says it's straight on.

Well, what do you want me to do?
Do you want me to turn around?

It's up to you.

No, please, don't do that, OK?
Just don't do that.

- You're the one with the map.
-OK, just go straight on.

Shit!

What?

Well done.

Don't forget, just 'cause he's got
a big house, a big car and a big ego,

he's still the same old tosspot
we knew at art school.

So "Hello, tosspot" is my opening line?

I think that would be pretty
understandable under the circumstances.

- Oi, oi!
- OK. Let's go.

- Hello, strange people.
- Easy to find?

Ah, hello. Have you had a bad trip?

- Easy to find?
- Well, there are signposts.

Did you get the map?

What, the one that said,
"We're easy to find"?

Yes, that would be the one.
Hello.

Three days we've been travelling.

No, you have not been
travelling for three days.

No, we haven't, but it feels like it.
Where the bloody hell are we, anyway?

I don't even know what country
I'm in any more.

Happy birthday.

Yeah, happy birthday.

- You don't look a day over 45.
-No, I'm not a day over 45.

Get in there.

Absolutely refreshing
conversation already.

- Welcome.
- I was gonna ask directions.

But nobody else seems to live
in this time zone.

It's not that bad. We've got a rock star
down the road who's not actually dead.

As in, "Oh, him?
I thought he was dead."

And there's a couple that breeds geckos.

- As in...?
-No, little lizard guys, big feet.

- I don't know why.
- Sticking to walls, I think.

I don't know why they breed them.
It's too cold here.

They should be in Spain, I think.
Come on up.

I don't know where Freya's got to.
Freya!

Hey. Hey, guys. I'll come round.

Come on through.
Let's race her. I think she'll lose.

Anyway, listen, come along.
It's not far now.

I've got a couple oi Sherpas waiting for
me at the next hideout. Should be good.

- Wow. This is beautiful.
- I hope it's worth it for you.

- Hi.
-Hi.

Hi. Good to see you.

Hi.

- Hey.
- Hi.

- You get here OK?
- Easy to find.

- Oh, no, he's off again.
- Well, you're here now.

- Is the loo easy lo find?
- I'll escort you personally.

Thank you.

There you go.

Hi.

So, sorry about Freya.

When she's got a bee in her bonnet,
she's determined to see things through.

It was a big smiley face of a letter.

Yeah, right. Sorry about that.

Are you OK?

Getting there.

Can I get you anything?

- Big alcohol.
- Black Russian.

Heavy on the Russian.

Well, it is lovely to see you.

Give me a hug.

Black Russian coming up.

Madam.

Wow.

This looks great.

That is incredible.

Amazing.

- Sorry, what is this?
- Well, I'll give you three guesses.

- And if you can't guess, I'll help you.
- OK.

- Kangaroo?
- Very, very close. Very, very close.

It's actually confit of duck,
or a duck carpaccio with rice crispies.

The truth about words is

They never quite reach us

With a meaning intended

They start as impulse

To make connections

And good intentions

They leave our lips

Travel in breath

Drop like stones

- Hey, Grant?
- Whoa, whoa.

Into the waters 'tween our ears

Disturbing our fears

Happy birthday.

And that's the truth...

Damn. I was going to buy you a CD.

About words

No, no, come on,
you shouldn't have done this.

- I know.
-Thank you.

Wow.

This is beautiful.

- This is really beautiful.
-Spoilt boy.

It works.

You remember that film we made?

- No way.
- ls that it?

- Yep.
- I thought it was lost.

- Can we see it?
- We found it when we moved.

- I...
- Come on. Come on. Please?

Please. Please? Please, please.

- I think she wants to see it.
- Please.

Yes!

TWENTIETH CENTURY FIX PRESENTS
"WE NEED HELP"

FEATURING DESPERATE DAN
GORGEOUS GRANT

CRAZY CHRISTINE
AND AMOROUS AMBER

THAT'S ALL FOLKS!

Just follow the single-track
wheelbarrow line

all the way down the road,
over the field, right,

and to this idiot's garage.

- Here you go.
-There we are.

- Sorry, love. We were reminiscing.
- No, don't be silly.

I love hearing about it.
Dean never tells me anything.

So, how did you guys find this place?
I thought you'd never leave Oxford.

I found it, actually, in a magazine.
Properties with great potential.

It seemed like a great opportunity.
I'd always wanted to live by the sea.

- What? Since when?
- What?

The silence of the crabs?

- Hello.
- What's this?

Thank you.
You never forget a thing, do you?

We all went on this camping trip
to the Catalan coast,

sort of a, I don't know, a post-college,

last bit of fun before real life sets in
kind of thing.

And we get there at, I don't know,
some ridiculous hour in the morning

and it takes ages to get the tents up.

We're just going off to sleep and
suddenly his head pokes into our tent,

saying, "Guys, guys, the crabs,
they're keeping me awake".

- What were they doing?
-They were having a rave.

They weren't doing anything untoward.

They were just scuttling occasionally,
'cause they're fucking crabs.

It was a weird sound, I tell you.

You could park a Harley-Davidson
next to Dean and he'd sleep through it,

but a small crustacean taking his
evening perambulation around the cove...

I'm terribly sorry, what did you say?
Perambulation?

Perambulation around the cove.
You are totally freaked out.

So, go on,
you always wanted to live by the sea.

- Five syllables.
- I know.

He's fantastic.

The truth about words is

They live much longer

Than you'd imagine

They live in shadows

Hide in furrows

Lying dormant

They fall asleep
in the backs of our minds

We're tired and remote

Then startle awake

They hang in the air

The way that stones don't

That's the truth...

So the room you're in
was her sewing room.

About words

1920 or so.

So, anyway, Rose,
she was married to the local clergyman,

but she never went to any of
the functions, she was just an artist.

I mean,
there were all kinds of stories.

But she made
these beautiful, beautiful quilts.

And one Easter everyone's decorating
the church, you know,

with fruit and veg,
homemade decorations, all sorts.

Yeah, no,
this is just like a nonsense story.

- It is true. I'm pretty sure it's true.
- OK.

What happened?

Well, Rose has completed this huge quilt

and she hangs it up
in the middle of the church,

hanging right down
in the middle of the congregation,

so that it can be unveiled during mass.

- He must have approved it.
- What?

Sorry, the vicar. He must have seen it.

Oh, yeah, he had. I mean,
it was just an image of rural life.

It was a circle of people,
from the very young, top left,

going all the way round
to the very old folks, top right.

I've seen a picture of it in the local
library. it's like Bruegel on acid.

Bruegel on acid.
Like he didn't have enough problems.

So the next day, at the end
of "All Things Bright and Beautiful",

this parson unveils the quilt,

but it had a backing sheet as well,

so as he pulled the rope,
both sheets fell.

And on one side of this quilt
it was like rural idyll

and on the other it was like
a small-town Dante's Inferno.

I mean, all the villagers were revealed
for who they really were,

lying, torturing, raping, appalling
little people, and all recognisable.

I mean, each villager's likeness
had been perfectly captured.

- Wow. That's so bizarre.
- I know.

I mean, on one side of the church
everyone laughed and applauded

and then on the other
it was just appalled silence.

What happened to Rose?

Well, apparently,

her husband, the clergyman,
he came home to find her in her room.

She'd drunk chlorine.

Sorry,
this is where we're sleeping tonight?

Well, yeah,
but it was a long, long time ago.

The house was abandoned
shortly after that

and it was a wreck
by the time it came to us.

But the builders were great

and they pulled it together
really, really quickly.

We had a house-warming party.
Everybody brought paint brushes.

We had a kind of -
"bring your own bottle of turps" - party.

I'm sorry we couldn't come.

Don't be stupid. You were...

It's OK.

When Jacob... died...

we just withdrew.

We got your letter and the invite.
We just...

We couldn't speak.

I know. I'm sorry.

You know, when I was at college,
I was...

I was really very unsure of myself.

Grant was the rock.
That's why I wanted to be with him.

But when he came back from the hospital,

even he was just completely lost.

Yeah, well, don't be so sure
I knew what I was doing at art school.

It was mostly bluff.

I remember him, you know, at art school,
in the drawing room.

He used to sit in the corner
all sort of moody and Brando,

and we'd all be in the middle
flailing around,

trying to out-cool each other
with half-baked politics and stuff,

and every now and again
from the touchline,

he would lob in a small hand grenade
of observation.

"Look at the..."
What? What?

Look between us and then just like
go back to what he was doing,

watching pigeons screw on the roof
something like that, cool.

- It was a long, long time ago.
- The '80s. Don't you just miss them?

The decade that taste forgot.

She must have taken
all their guilt onto herself.

What was that? What?

Rose. The girl who made the quilt.

She must have felt
that she could rebalance everything,

take in all their sins
and by killing herself, take them away.

- I think she was just trying to help.
- I don't think suicide...

I think she was probably
just disturbed.

Chlorine, you said?

She bleached them all away.
Clean slate.

Oh, no, come on. Come on.

Don't worry.
I think we'll just hit the sack.

I'm so sorry.
I don't know what's come over me.

It's OK. It's a long day. Come on.

Is she OK?

Yeah, I think she was OK
for a couple of days in 1983.

- Listen, I'm sorry about the film.
- What? Why?

Well, you know. It's all
a load of old rubbish, really, isn't it?

- I thought it was a lovely gift.
- You didn't mind, then?

Why would I mind?

- What's that?
- it's just a bit sensitive there.

- Does it hurt?
- It's nothing.

- You should go to the doctor's.
- It's nothing, really.

I've probably just stressed out
a muscle or something.

All right.
Well, you take care of yourself.

I'm sorry about the Rose story.

When I started it,
I forgot how it ended.

Never mind.

We can't go a whole weekend tiptoeing
around every sensitive subject.

Why did you and Christine split up?

You see? I know I shouldn't have
shown you that film.

No, it's fine. lt's just, well...

You never really talk about Amber
and you guys and all that.

It was so long ago. It's like another
life. It's like a dream or something.

- Why did you guys split up?
- We were never really together.

We went out, the four of us,
when I was with Amber.

But sometimes with other people. We were
all rather free and easy about all that.

Really? Christine seems pretty serious.

I can't imagine her being so frivolous.

Well, I think she's got
a little harder over the years.

So no regrets, then?

Sure. I regret not investing in Google
when I had that tip-off.

You know what I mean.

Everything in the past is dead.

I'm only interested
in the here and now.

Morning.

- Hey. You're up early.
- Yeah, couldn't sleep.

It's so quiet.
I guess you get used to it.

Eventually.

Apparently, in a sensory deprivation
chamber, in absolute silence,

you start to hear the scream
of your own nervous system.

I think I tuned in
to a bit of that last night.

You're not comfortable?

Christine slept like a baby.

Is she OK?

Yeah, she's...

She's OK.

I don't know how much you know
about the last couple of years.

Obviously it's been pretty difficult.

I can't imagine.

I was going to say I could imagine.

My dad died when I was very young.

I mean, I was old enough
to know what was happening

but way too young to understand.

I remember every second of that day.

It was like stepping
into another world.

What did he do?

- He was a marine biologist.
- Wow.

Yeah, yeah. We tripped around the world
looking at brightly coloured fish.

And then one day it was just over

and there was just this grey
little house in the south of England,

my mother's grief,
which never seemed to fade...

and no more fish.

I guess you can imagine, then.

A bit more clearly than Dean, anyway.

Hey, well, it was Dean's imagination
that hooked me.

He put the brightly coloured fish
back into my life.

I'll not dwell
on the father-figure observation.

I've heard them all before.

I'm sorry. That was really, really rude.

No. No self-censorship here.
House rules. Speak your mind.

Dean and I have a history of dancing
the paso doble around conversations.

Well, I think he's very insecure,
especially around you.

What?

I think it's quite obvious
how much he needs your approval.

He recognises his own shortcomings

almost as clearly
as he sees your strengths.

- You were an editor, right?
- Briefly, yeah. New fiction.

Why'd you quit?

I thought it was about
making the books better.

Publishing's a very political world.
I just wanted a simpler life.

I met Dean. l called him Professor
for our first few dates.

I was dazzled by a life
creating beautiful things.

Have you read any of his recent books?

No, sorry, I haven't.

He's opened up quite a bit.
They're really inquisitive books.

You know...
I like you a lot more than I realised.

Speak of the devil.

What are you two doing up at this hour?

I'm always up at this hour.
You're just never awake to notice.

OK, what are you doing up at this hour?

Talking to Freya.

- Right, coffee?
- Sure.

- Lovely nightshirt.
- What? What?

- There's a couple in the pot.
- Professor.

So, what are you guys
gonna do today, huh?

I'm waking up, that's what I'm doing.

Up to you. We're in your hands.

I was thinking I would take Christine
for a walk through the woods,

you know, that sort of thing,
blow a few cobwebs away.

Leave you two boys to reacquaint.

I think I'll hang on
to my cobwebs today.

You can show me your new books.

I've heard great, great things
about them.

Get your own coffee.

- We shouldn't tease him.
- Why?

- He looks like Wee Willie Winkle.
- Stop it.

But he does. Did you buy that?

Oi, oi!

- Hey.
- Bye.

- Bye-bye.
- Bye.

Come on, let's go.

I'm really glad
you wrote back this lime.

I'm glad you could come.

We did get the two letters
that Dean sent.

I read one of them again recently

and wondered
what all the fuss was about.

But, you know, in that state of mind
I think Grant read every turn of phrase

as having
some sort of sarcastic interpretation.

Well, Dean needs an editor sometimes.

They've such a history together.
They grew up together.

Assuming they have actually grown up.
Sometimes I wonder.

Did you know them before art school?

No. But they were
in infant school together.

God, they really have
grown up together.

And they are
completely different people, really.

I never believed in that hoary
old cliche of opposites attracting,

but that's our boys.

So what are you on?

Is that a drugs reference?

What work are you on?

I'm a bit stuck at the moment.

I wanna paint something. It's my birthday
and I wanna paint something.

What?

Well, I've got a job I should be doing,
and there's a children's book as well.

- What's the job?
- It's nothing, really.

It's not paying anything.
I might just back out.

And the kids' book?

That's about a girl
who lives in a tenement block

who gets sent to her uncle's place
on an island and she's bored stiff.

And then one day she thinks she hears a
sheep mutter something under her breath.

She's introduced to the way the animals
behave when they're not being watched.

Which is?

Well, for instance, she asks,
"How do spiders get inside the house?"

They tell her they form
an orderly line outside the front door

and take it in turns to scuttle inside
whenever somebody goes through.

How do butterflies
come out of caterpillars?

And it turns out there are actually
three insects involved.

There's the caterpillar,
there's the butterfly

and a small beetle that spends its time
fooling the time-lapse cameras

by animating the change.

It's a special effect.

So we know them as woodlice,
but they gave up eating wood years ago.

Now they just make films.

- Did you write it?
- One of Freya's.

- Based on her childhood.
-Only child. Rich fantasy life.

Come on, you wanna do
a bit of amateur psychology?

- Let's do an exquisite corpse.
- Oh, no.

Come on, we've got a few hours
before the girls get back.

No, I just...
I don't draw much these days.

Riding a bike.

Go on, then.

Here you go.

I seem to remember we nearly had
a fight over one of these things.

Well, that's when
we were young and drunk

and both fancied the same girl.

Hands-on Hannah.
Whatever happened to her?

Buddhist.

I can believe that.

- How do you know?
- I bumped into her in Tassajara.

Bald, baking bread.

- I didn't mention the penis sculptures.
-No, not appropriate, really.

Not while she was kneading dough
and wearing a prayer shawl.

Although the two activities
did seem curiously linked in my mind.

He's a lot more larky than I remember,

but, then again,
I did only meet you guys twice.

Grant?

Yeah, well, he can put on a show
if he wants to.

In between the patter,
he seems pretty worried about you.

Well, we worry about each other.

I seem to have done
a lot of worrying recently.

I'm sorry. I'm gonna have to do this.

Are you OK
talking about what's happened?

I mean, if you're not, just tell me
and I won't ask any more questions.

It's just, well,
I'm a naturally nosy cow.

You know, where we live,
right in the centre of town,

you can hardly think without
all your neighbours hearing about it.

But here I could shout and scream
and nobody would know.

- Maybe that's just what you need.
- Serious?

Yeah. Why not?

There's only me here
and some non-judgemental crows.

Maybe.

I need love!

And Dean is too old!

And there will be a time when
the age difference means something,

but right now I just need his love!

I lost my baby,

one day old,
and I hate everybody in the world

for not caring about him
or knowing about him!

What do you think
they're talking about?

Us.

Not everyone in the world
is talking about you, Dean.

I know you like to think they are,
but I have to break it to you.

My ears are burning.

Actually, I've got a small pain
in my left kidney.

That's a sure sign
I'm being talked about.

- It's a stone.
- I had one of them once.

It's the closest a man gets to...

To childbirth. Sorry.

We can't go all weekend avoiding
anything even remotely sensitive.

We'll end up sounding like
a party political broadcast.

I woke up and there he was.

I think I'd only slept
for a couple of hours.

I remember calling the nurse
because I couldn't see him...

I couldn't see his chest moving.

And they couldn't find anything,
any reason?

No.

We got home to a frozen, empty house.

We didn't answer the phone.
And then the arguments started.

A storm of grief.

On the fourth day we had a huge fight

and the strangest thing happened.

I'd taken an alarm clock
to the hospital.

I hadn't unpacked or anything.

We'd left everything
by the front door.

And suddenly...

right in the middle of this argument,
the alarm clock went oft.

I hadn't wound it or set it.

And we just stopped fighting.

We just stopped and listened.

And it was like...

Hey.

It was like he wanted us
to stop shouting at each other.

- Like...
- Hey, it's all right.

Like he was there.

What about you and Freya?

What about you guys?
Do you want to have children?

It's not an issue at the moment.

Well, I don't think Dean's thinking
along those lines at the moment.

- Really?
- No. Freya seems OK about it.

She's not desperate to be a mum.

We haven't really talked about it.

I've mentioned it a couple of times.

And what did he say?

He's OK about it,
but, you know, there's no rush.

Really? I don't know.

She seems like such a homemaker.

You think?

Do you wanna have kids?

He said OK? He said yes?

I mean, that was a big impasse for us
when we were together.

Well, you know.

That's why I left.

Did you not know that?

We never really spoke about it.

I did wonder.

I always had a niggling something.

His drawings and creations
have always been his children.

Come on.

- Hiya.
-Come on.

Come on, join in!

Look out, look out, look out!

Rubbish!

Goal!

Freya!

Freya?

Did any of you guys see that piece
on Saddam Hussein's love nest?

Oh, please. I got this for a solid week.

It's a great story.

It's the definition of art
in the 21st century.

- Let me just see where Freya's got to.
- Don't change the subject.

Whenever somebody tries to define art
in the 21st century,

I need to see if Freya's OK.

- He's changing the subject.
- Stop it.

Go on, then.

So the Americans wander
into Saddam's make-out pad in Iraq

and his walls are covered
in these crappy fantasy paintings.

- He's pushing all my buttons.
- He's just had a few, that's all.

You keep filling his glass like that,
what do you expect?

Yeah, I saw a copy of one of mine
on the wall in the news report.

This was your idea.

And stoking the flames with tequila's
your idea and I think it's a crap one.

- So how did you feel about that?
- What?

Your picture on the wall
next to this dungeons and dragons crap

in Saddam's shag pad?

I kept a low profile.

I know you're better than that,
you know you're better than that,

but you get lumped in with this shit,
so what do you expect?

Like I said, I have no control of it.
These pictures are like kids.

You try and set them on the right path

but at the end of the day
they've got lives of their own.

That's the way it is.

So if some collector in Taiwan
picks up some of my stuff,

gets a local hack to make a copy of it

and sells it to Saddam Hussein's
interior decorator,

it is out of my control.

I think you're being
too easy on yourself.

It's what this culture of escapism does.
It's corrosive.

- Aesthetically, morally.
- Please.

I really don't think
the Revolutionary Socialist Dragon Party

is that strong a force in the world.

Or the Hobbit Liberation Front.

Or the Democratic Gnome Collective.

Yeah, you make a joke out of it,
but while the world is being placated

with fantasy fucking bollocks
about nothing,

everything is moving on.

The melting icecaps are moving on.

The dwindling fuel supply
is moving on.

The disenfranchised armies of fucking
nutjobs with the ultimate fantasy,

God or Allah or fucking Hamburgerland
on their side,

- are moving seriously on.
-Just calm down.

What? I'm fine!

Dean's doing a job for Amnesty
at the moment.

- Really?
- Well, we'll see.

Wait a minute.
This is the job that wasn't paying.

You're turning down a job for Amnesty
'cause it's not paying.

Because I don't know what to do with it.
It's not the money obviously.

Un-fucking-believable. You don't even
wanna think about it, do you?

Stuck here in little fucking
house on the prairie on the fucking sea.

There is a big fucking sign
over the country at the moment

and it says, "Do not disturb".

Please, Grant. Come on.

- Well, I agree.
-Oh, God. Here we go. Care to dance?

No, really, I agree, I agree, I think
there's precious little connection

with the real world at the moment.

But I don't think that you are crediting
fantasy with a proper role here.

I'm not talking about
ghosts and fairies.

I'm talking about our fantasy lives,
no, our imaginative lives.

You can play around with the words,
but it all amounts to the same thing:

lack of engagement.

- I'd like to hear what you have to say.
- Thank you.

I just think there is very little
actual fact in our lives at the moment,

very little reality.

This is real, our conversation is real,

but what's gonna happen
in an hour or so?

You'll have your version of events,
I will have mine,

and they will both be different.

There will be a chaos of memories,
misinterpretations, lateral connections,

and they will all be a fantasy.

In fact, everything
that you hope for and dream about,

that's all a fantasy.

And the layers
of associations and connections

that every second your brain is making
as we navigate this world,

it is all just a fantasy.

Yet it seems as real as the news on TV,

the sound of this table,
the people we love.

And that's why I think
it's very important

to deal with this definition
of fantasy in our lives.

- Do you?
-Yes, l do. I know you don't, Grant.

But I think that the world is big enough
to accommodate the both of us.

Well, that's nice.

- Here, have another drink, Grant.
- Please, come on.

What? It's just us!
It's a bit of fucking cut and thrust.

- A bit of needle.
-Yes, it's all right.

Yeah, it's all all right.
It's all just lovely.

What about young Freya here?
Where do you stand?

- Don't drag me into this.
- Come on, don't be shy.

I have a feeling
that you are far less indulgent

of this puffly, whiffly thinking
than I first thought.

- Please, change the record.
- No, come on.

Now you've got your comfort zone
and your surrogate father figure.

Don't do that, Grant.

OK. I'm sorry. Sorry.

Well, no self-censorship here.

So where do you stand on the great
fantasy versus reality debate?

The two are not mutually exclusive.

Tango.

OK. Explain.

I tango.

You dance tango?

Twice a week.

And if you want to see,
if you're really interested

in observing the actual balance
in our lives

between what you call the real world

and what Dean here
thinks of as our fantasy lives,

then it's poised perfectly in tango.

I'd love to go dancing.

It's much more than a dance.

It's a negotiation between friends
and enemies and lovers.

It's where you see how ridiculous
we all are,

in our make-believe lives
and our courtship routines

and our sabre rattling

and our pretence
at being self-sufficient.

It's where you see how vital life is
in our need for human contact.

The warmth of another person
moving next to you.

Can I come?

It's real, and fantastic.

- Well, I wanna dance.
- Jesus.

- You'll fall over.
- Come on, teach me.

I wanna experience
this great reality high.

Don't be a twat, Grant.

Look, I'll teach you
when you're not angry.

What? I'm not angry.
Come on, I wanna fucking dance.

- All right, sit down.
- Sit down.

Calm down.

- Just sit down.
- Sorry. Sorry.

Sit down.

- Where's a towel?
- It's in the kitchen, on the wall.

It's threatening.

What's going on? I thought
we had a good time this afternoon.

You've been kicking me
in the shins all evening.

What is it? ls it this house?

This? These?

I'm not doing it for you, you know.
There was a time when I was.

When I needed
a pat on the head from you, but...

You don't have to
justify yourself to me.

Obviously I do.
ls it Freya? She's young, OK?

She's a person in her own right,
yes, she's younger than me,

but she's not the reason I left Amber.

She's not responsible
for splitting up the gang of four.

Wasn't much of a gang of four
by then anyway.

- I like Freya, actually.
-All right.

Then what is it?

Is it because you...

ls it because you lost your baby
at the hospital? ls that it?

Jacob.

I'm sorry. Jacob.

Is that it?

And we didn't lose him. He died.

I know. I'm sorry.
It's just an expression.

I wasn't trying to talk in euphemisms.

Yes, you were. Why do you do that?

You only talk in euphemisms.

You only ever avoid the conflict
or the awkwardness.

I don't go around stirring up arguments.
I think that's a good thing.

No, you just wander blithely
through life doing fucking kids' books.

You don't even like kids.
How hypocritical is that?

Right, well, I can see I'm not gonna win
this argument. I'm going to bed.

Christ. There's nothing that can
penetrate your fucking ego, is there?

You know, way back when,
you had a big impact on my life.

- What's happened to that person?
- Life happened, Dean.

Now, you wanna get out
of your ivory tower occasionally,

see the wreckage that's still
hanging around in your wake.

Now who's talking in euphemisms?

Have you any idea how Amber
has been coping the last few years?

The AA meetings,

casual humiliation of trying to find
someone else to spend her life with

and not really knowing why she's been
thrown away in the first place.

This is just none of your business.

But we're all there, Dean.

As you fantasise your way to the top.
We're all just stepping stones.

You have never relied on anyone,
certainly not me.

- We've never owed each other anything.
- I was talking about Christine.

What? She's...

- She's fine with me.
-God, it must be a fucking gift.

Some little uncomfortable detail
enters my life,

woof, gone.

- It never existed.
-I’m going to bed.

Like all the little promises
you made over the years

that weren't maybe
in your best interests,

so forget 'em, woof, gone.

This can't be about that book
we planned to write.

That was 15 bloody years ago.

Like an irritating
little unwanted pregnancy.

- What?
- Surprised?

Did I get through?
Did I hit a nerve finally?

- I'm going to bed.
- What, didn't you think she'd tell me?

We don't have secrets from each other.

You got her pregnant and then you wrote
a little cheque for the abortion.

Woof, the child is lost.

There wasn't a child.

But there was Christine.

She's still here. The cells may be gone,
but she's still dealing with it.

- Have you given it a second thought?
- Yes, of course I have.

In between the award ceremonies

and the endless vacuous books
for non-existent children?

Fuck off!

You're a fucking hypocrite.

- What was that?
- What?

I heard a crash.

- He's gone.
- What?

- He's buggered off.
- Grant?

What's up?

These two infants had a fight
and Grant's walked out.

- What? Where did he go?
- I don't bloody know.

You're as bad as each other,
you know that?

- Yeah, yeah, OK.
- Fine.

Look, I'll go down to the beach. Do you
wanna take the path over the woods?

- Yeah.
- You could help.

What? He's not... Why...

Nothing's gonna happen to him!

Bollocks.

Grant. Grant!

Grant!

Grant! Come on, Grant.

Come on, Granty!

Granty, come on!

Grant, come on!

I will give you
another bottle of tequila

and a lifetime subscription
to the Socialist Worker

if you come in right now, Grant.

I... Oi. Hey.

Hello, Chris. What's up?

- He's out there.
- Yeah.

But, I mean, he'll be back, you know.
He's...

He'll just make one storm
around the garden

and he'll bluster his way back in.

He's always had a fuse
like something with a very short fuse.

Not Grant.

Our child.

What?

I couldn't do it.

- I just couldn't go through with it.
- What are you...

- No, no, you... you didn't...
- But I couldn't do it.

I couldn't sit there
and justify killing a child.

But il wasn't a child, was it?
ll was just a handful of cells.

- I couldn't do it.
-No, no, no.

My God, this is fucked up.

This is fucked up! This is fucked up.

This is 20 years ago
and you're telling me now?

- It was a stupid mistake.
- Fuck.

- Does Grant know about this?
- No. No, he was in America.

We weren't together then anyway.

What the hell happened?

I registered with an adoption agency.
He was adopted.

He? Are you telling me
that I've got a son out there somewhere?

- Somewhere.
- Somewhere? Where?

Give me some specifics.

Oh, God. Oh, God. This is a bad dream.

This is just a bad dream.

- Did you meet the parents?
- I did.

- And?
- Does it matter?

They were nice. They couldn't
have children. They were kind.

I would have come with you, you know.
I would have supported you.

Whatever you wanted,
I'd have been there. I'd have done that.

And what would you have told Amber?

It's OK. It's OK.
I was fine until we lost Jacob.

I know he was only with us for a day,
but he was a person called Jacob.

Do you know,
I've imagined his life everyday,

I mean, how old he would be,
what he would be doing.

I've imagined them both out there
in the world together.

They've kept me company.

What about Grant?

I couldn't reach him,
screaming at the world.

I didn't realise anyone
could stay so angry for so long.

I mean, I... I was just tired.

Grant was lost.

But you managed to find him
and you brought him back, yes?

Life goes on.

Why?

Why does life go on?

I'll have to get back to you
about that one.

Hey! Hey, guys, I've found him!

Coming!

Straight across.

That's it, that's it, that's it.

He's really hot.

Just a second. Here, let me open this.

- Let me help you.
-Thanks.

- OK, carefully does it.
- Bloody ouch.

- God. How did he do that?
-There we go.

It seems to have stopped bleeding.

Yeah.

It's all right, Grant. It's OK.

I'll call the doctor first thing, OK?

Yeah. Look, I should sleep here tonight.

I'm not gonna be able
to sleep upstairs anyway. Come on.

Could you get a blanket?
And could you get me one as well?

- Yeah.
- Hey, you, mister.

- Hey.
- Giving us a scare like that.

Sweetheart.

Careful with that. Let me hold it.

Thanks. Let me put this here.

Will it stick?

It's all right, it's all right.

Here, Freya. Take that top end.
I'll drag this up here.

Don't be daft. Don't be daft.
Here, come on, keep yourself warm.

- Just keep yourself warm.
-All right, thank you.

No, you can't stay down here tonight.

Honestly I can. Honestly, please.
Look, someone's gotta stay here.

He'll be fine. He really will.
I really don't mind staying down here.

No, honestly, please, just...

- All right. He'll be fine.
- Yeah, of course.

Thanks.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah, yeah.

Night.

Guys, he's here!

- ...icky.
- Icky? Really?

- Now, Mr...
- Grant.

Mr Grant.
What have you been up to, eh?

Well, well, well.
That is indeed a nasty one.

Has this man been drinking?

He and Dean haven't seen each other
in a while, so, yeah, they had a few.

Were you out drinking last night,
Mr Grant?

Yes.

And what sort of drinks
might they have been, Mr Grant?

Tequila.

What brand of tequila there, Mr Grant?

- What?
- Gold? Conmemorativo?

- Mezcal.
-Oh, dear, oh, dear.

Can you say Capistrano, Mr Grant?

Pardon?

Can you say Capistrano, Mr Grant?

Capistrano.

- Plover.
- Plover.

Selfridges.

Selfridges.

Didactic.

Didactic.

Didactic.

Didactic.

Yes, there's definitely
something going on

in that second syllable,
isn't there, Mr Grant?

What would you think of
if I used the word pomegranate?

Interesting.

Close your eyes for a minute.

There we go.

Icky indeed.

He's a magician.

What?

It's true.
He decided he wanted to meet me.

- And?
- We met in London.

He's just got his first job
as a gofer in a theatre,

but he was busking in Covent Garden
as a magician.

I don't believe it.

Look at you. Your world
has really shifted on its axis.

Yes, of course.

What's his name?

- Michael.
- Michael.

- How old is he?
- Well, he's 21. You can work it out.

What's he like?

He's a lot like you.

He's confident but needs applause.

He's critical
but gets defensive if you're critical.

He's... proud. He's very lovable.

- Did he...
-Ask about you?

Does he know?

No, I told him I hadn't seen you
since our art school days.

I think he believed me.

Then I told him about our baby

and I think
he wanted to be angry with me.

I think I was ready for that, but then
I told him what had happened recently

and that seemed
to shock the conversation

out of the past and into the present.

Will you see him again?

Well, I'd like to. He's a nice kid.

Got your smile.

Thank you so much for coming. Thank you.

And what's this?

Nothing. It's just been a long weekend.

Now, now. Let me have a look.

Come on, lift your sweater.

OK.

Right, breath in.

Have you ever heard a dolphin laugh?

Yeah, I think so, on the telly.

Well, think on that sound for a minute.

OK.

- How is he?
- He'll sleep it off.

You've got to let these things
work themselves out.

You know, when you first brought
Freya along, I didn't like her.

Yeah, it was obvious.

Even though we'd had our fling,

I never understood
why you and Amber split up, so I...

We were always this gang of four.
I suppose I resented her.

She was too nice.

Too much, too happy, too young.

Don't fool yourself.
I'm the only kid in this household.

Look at her, Dean.

I think she just sees the good
in everything.

I can't imagine anybody
more ready to be a mother.

What about you?

Life goes on.

Why?

Oi, oi! It's Lazarus's kid brother!

Give that man a cappuccino!

- I would like a cappuccino.
- Coming right up. One lump or two?

- Oh, darling.
- Seven.

You scared me.

- Ow!
- Sorry.

- It's a bit sore.
- Yeah, you scared the hell out of me.

Better out than in.

Hello.

- Sorry, fella.
-Oh, no, no. You know what?

We are a little over-comfortable here,
so you're right.

No. No.

Well, apart from the bits where
you're wrong, you're right. How's that?

- Water. Drink lots.
-Thank you.

What time is it?

- 3:30.
- What, afternoon 3:30?

- What happened to lunch?
- You must have missed it, mate.

You needed the sleep.
Right, one cappo coming up.

Have I woken up yet?

I think I should have been sedated,
but I... I just felt numb.

And the worst thing
was leaving the house that day

and seeing
all these boxes and boxes of presents

for this child that just wasn't there.

And I remember thinking,

"God, this should be a day
where I'm out buying baby clothes...

and instead here we are
trying to arrange a funeral."

And it was just crazy.

Anyway, we got there,
we got to the graveyard, and...

it was very cold.

We found this old boy caretaker.

He was such a lovely guy.

Yes, we kept on coming back
to this patch of ground

with this strange crescent-shaped
group of stones.

And it just felt right, didn't it?

He said we could bury Jacob there,
and that was that.

It was like visiting some other place,
not the real world at all.

It was very strange.

I know just what you mean.

The one and only time
that I was in a graveyard

was at my grandfather's funeral.

I must have been eight, I think.

He was an extraordinary man, really.
He was a mountaineer and explorer.

He was a legend in the family,
we'd see him every Christmas

and sometimes we'd get to stay at his
strange rambling house in the country.

There was always
a new room to explore,

full of old Tarzan comics
used as ballast on ships from America,

or a room full of old fossils and bones.

He became interested in birds that soar
on thermals around mountain peaks,

so he became an ornithologist

and he would rescue
injured eagles and ospreys.

He'd draw pictures with me
of the birds he'd found.

He inspired me.

Once my folks were having trouble,
so I stayed with him for a few of weeks

and we made a huge pair of wings
out of bamboo and paper

and we climbed onto the top of the roof

and we launched it into the air
over the valley.

But then he died.

And I'm still not sure why.

He must have been ill.

Everything was gone
before I realised what happened.

It went to collectors
or junk shops or Oxfam.

But I didn't get to keep anything.

This singular, important life
summed up in a few crates of junk.

I was just getting to know him,
to really understand him.

And then every trace of him was gone.

Now I can't even remember his face.

Come on...
back inside before we freeze to death.

Do you know, I think
we'll really remember this weekend.

I bloody hope not.

Well, I feel...

Cold?

I was going to say... better.

Yeah.

- What's that?
- What?

Oh, my God, that.
I found it in Dean's studio. It's...

It's one of yours.

A sad picture.

Come on.

- All set?
- I'm just gonna get my bag.

Is that it? Everything?

Yeah.

When it's out,

can you send me a copy of that new
children's book you're working on?

Come on, now,
we're not having any of that.

I think it would be a really great way

of talking about the natural world
to the kids I teach.

- Really?
- It's an inner-city school.

Most of them have barely even seen
a blade of grass.

Yeah, sure. September, I think.

You can both sign it.
It'll be a nice reminder.

Hey, you know what?

I think you should have a couple
of those drawings to take away with you.

- I have to confess.
- What?

I took the drawing. Do you mind?

I've just come down
to get a couple for Grant anyway.

- I can pay you.
- Don't be crazy.

With an answer.
I think I have an answer for you.

- What's the question?
- Why life goes on.

Come on.

There.

You see, if we didn't carry on,

we'd never get to do the tango
in the middle of nowhere

on a Monday morning.

- Slow. One, two...
- Two...

Now to the side.
Now in front. Go.

Go. No. Move across.

Across. No, across.