Original subtitles

Today we have Letitia Wright.

- Amazing. - Amazing.

- I love her. - Only the best.

Amazing work.

Beautiful.

Tamara Lawrance.

Oh, my God. Nadine Marshall.

Jodhi May.

Oh, my God. Treva Etienne.

Right.

Michael Smiley.

He always makes me smile.

- Jack Bandeira. - Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn.

And introducing us...

Eva-Arianna Baxter and Leah Mondesir-Simmonds.

Mm-hmm, amazing.

They just sound totally amazing.

They're so wonderful.

I know, I know.

The Silent Twins.

Testing, testing, one, two, one, two.

Testing, testing, one, two, one, two.

W... welcome

to Radio Gibbons, Gibbons,

G-G-G-G-Gibbons.

Gibbons, Gibbons,

- G-G-G-G-Gibbons.

It's 5:00 p.m.

We're your hosts, June and Jennifer,

and you're joining us for...

The Living Facts of Life.

Today we'll be discussing how to handle a divorce.

Yes, separations are very tough.

Difficult, but possible to do while keeping your head high.

Even if you've married a Scorpio.

No, no, don't do that.

Next time, consider a Libra.

They're polite and considerate people.

The suffering of men.

Men are dazzled by us and think women are their superiors.

They get caught up in a painful web of hurt

filled with anger and desperation.

Perhaps it will help you to remember

that men hate women but cannot live without them.

It's possible to love someone so much

you can't stand her

and, at the same time, to want her dead.

I suppose love can also be destruction.

- Moving on. Let's take a break.

With "Hot Love" by T. Rex.

Coming at you this fine Monday afternoon.

- Yeah. -

Dinnertime.

You lost.

No, I didn't.

Yes, you did.

- No, I didn't. - Yes, you did.

You moved.

I win.

You lose.

Liar.

I did not move.

You lost.

...competition.

The, uh, details were Fleetwood Mac

from the album Fleetwood Mac with "I'm So Afraid."

Let's call in our T-shirt winner, uh, Geoff Waller...

You'll never find joy

if you want to be alone.

You will never find joy

if you want to be alone.

I'm home. Everybody all right?

Aubrey, so, help yourself to dinner.

I'm changing Rosie.

How was your day, girls? Huh?

- How was school? - David. Greta.

- Good? - Come down here.

Yeah, all right, coming.

We'll have a nice dinner today, huh?

Right, let's get the plates.

All of your food, okay, girls?

David, you want to get the phone?

Sweetheart, you want some peas? Yes?

- You want some peas, eh, - Hello?

- Greta, do you want some peas? - No, thank you.

Mummy feed you some peas today. Okay.

You got homework today, girls?

Hmm?

No?

I didn't hear an answer.

Greta, come on.

They need to get their heads bashed together.

One times six is six.

Two times six is 12.

Three times six is 18.

Four times six is 24.

- You stupid or what? - Boo.

Swallow it.

We're done, Catherine Jenkins.

Run along.

Next up, please.

Do you think you could keep a stiff upper lip for me?

Just one.

Are you very scared?

What about you?

Are you scared?

Dr. Rees feels this issue goes beyond the school's help.

Please understand, I have 1,500 students.

My hands are full dealing with the ones who are trouble.

I can't do much about the ones who don't communicate.

We didn't do nothing to the babies.

- They were perfect. - Mm.

They giggled.

They spoke to me,

and then it was just less and less, you know.

But nothing happened.

Nothing bad happened.

You're originally from Barbados?

Yes. Um... the RAF moved us to Britain.

I am an air traffic controller.

Oh.

We were told,

keep them in a normal school, Mr. Davis.

Adolescence will resolve this.

They need a good education.

They need to be in school.

They speak all the time in the bedroom.

They're just shy, you know.

Mrs. Gibbons, please.

They won't get on in a proper school

if they don't speak English.

We will move the girls into special education.

We'll get them to talk yet.

Come along.

Girls, come on.

It's a fresh start.

Hello, June. Hello, Jennifer.

My name is Tim Thomas.

I'm your teacher.

Okay.

I've recorded some questions here,

and I've left enough space for you to answer.

But if you don't want to answer my questions

or you don't think my questions are very good,

you're very, very welcome to shout at me,

"Mr. Thomas, your questions are rubbish."

Okay?

I'll close the door.

What do you think of your new school?

Do you have any hobbies?

Do you like cats?

What kind of music do you listen to?

What do you like doing during your free time?

How would you describe your personalities?

Oi.

What is your favorite subject?

Which do you like better, sunshine or rain?

Jennifer, June, have you ever had a pet?

Inky, Pinky, Perkins and Polly.

Inky, Pinky, Perkins and Polly.

Two little parrots who were very jolly.

Then Perkins died, and poor Polly cried.

Poor little Perkins and Polly.

Inky, Pinky, Perkins and Polly.

Two little parrots who were very jolly.

Then Perkins died, and poor Polly cried.

Poor little Perkins and Polly.

Once, there were two parrots

who were brought up to live in a zoo.

Every day, people would come to the zoo

-and see the parrots.

-Sometimes the parrots

would mock the talking people,

and sometimes they would actually

have a conversation between themselves.

The people would stand there

-nearly all day

-listening to the parrots' conversation. -

-The people thought it was a bit weird -

for two parrots to talk as well as humans did.

The parrots, whose names were Polly and Perkins,

often talked of how they longed

to get back to their native land.

Sometimes they would ask the watchers

to open the cage doors and let them out.

The people would often laugh

--and think the parrots were kidding.

Some of the children who were watching

asked their parents

if they could take the parrots home with them.

Sometimes, before the parents had time to answer,

one parrot would kindly say...

"We're not for sale. We're not for sale."

And the other parrot would say the same.

"We're not for sale. We're not for sale."

"I am a very, very big man, and I'm coming to get you."

"No, you're not.

You're not taking us anywhere."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not. Go away, go away, go away."

"It'll taste very, very, very good."

"No, you're not gonna eat us.

We're not tasty."

"I will take you."

- "No. Go away, go away.

"Don't take us. Don't take us away.

No, no, no, no. No."

"I want to have their liver for 300 pounds,

"and then your heart will only be one pound,

"and I'll eat it.

And it will be nice, tasty and warm."

I move, you follow.

I follow, you move.

You move, I move.

- I follow, you move.

Girls, you're doing beautifully.

You, me, we, I.

Follow me else you die.

- Come on. - Oh, Jenny.

Jennifer, why did you do that?

- You all right? - Are you okay?

Jennifer, why did you do that?

Look, I'll get straight to the point.

If there's something you want to communicate to me,

you best say it now.

You see, I...

I think you might be a bad influence on each other.

It might be an idea to...

split you up for a while.

One of you can go to Dr. Floyd's residential unit,

which isn't far from here,

then the other one can stay here.

What do you think?

Are you going to say anything?

Okay. I, uh...

I'll leave the room...

and let both of you work out who goes where.

All right?

I'll just be out here.

I'm giving them a few minutes.

I hate you!

Oh, my God.

You are nobody! You are Jennifer!

- You are me! - Girls. Girls, stop.

You'll be home again before you know it, June.

Together forever and ever.

Together forever in silence.

You and me.

Me and you.

Come on, June.

Do it for you.

Do it for we.

Do it for me.

Do it for us.

Please.

- Oi! - Jennifer!

- Jennifer, stop! - Jennifer, stop!

- Hey, hey.

Hey, come here now.

- Hey, calm down.

- Come back.

I've brought June home.

Okay.

--Oh.

Merry Christmas, puppy.

Everyone's coming over.

I want us to sit with them.

Eat with them.

What do you think?

We have to choose the right moment.

- Gloria, that one look great, man. -Okay.

- Hey, Greta, go and put the... - David, bring the juice.

Mark, you put the presents over there.

Come through there. Let's see the baby, man.

- Let's see the baby. - Oh...

Ah, look at her, huh? Just look at her.

- It's all I do. - Come here, look at the baby.

- I can't stop staring. - Come and see the family, man.

Beautiful, huh? Look at that.

This one.

Should I put the presents under the tree or on the table?

- On the table. - Okay.

And...

...the baby might be vegetarian, but I made her a turkey.

Is that okay?

Yeah.

And, and then there's the family.

So... there's a mummy...

...daddy, Lucy, Suzie

and Thelma crazy.

So we walk into the living room and we say...

Merry Christmas.

Said it a bit slow, but I'll keep up with you.

Okay, a bit faster, then.

Merry Christmas.

Why don't you pop upstairs and show the twinnies the baby?

I know they'd love to hold her.

What have they been doing all day

now that school's done with them?

- Oh, music. -

Reading.

You know.

So, the same.

No. No.

Take her up.

In fact, I think they made her some dolls.

David, I'm missing a fork.

- Just a minute.

What the hell?

And bring the plates.

- Okay, I'll bring them in.

- Hey.

Twinnies.

I've brought you Helen Marie.

Merry Chris...

Merry Christmas.

I've brought you Helen Marie.

You can hold her if you like.

Mummy said you made her a gift.

June?

Jennifer, what's in your hand?

Is it for Helen Marie?

It's nice.

I'm trying.

You could at least say something.

Really?

You've been a burden on me all my life.

An embarrassment to the family.

You can rot in here.

In your filthy little room,

with your piles of crumpled paper

and your bits of half-eaten food.

This is the last time I make an effort.

I'm done.

Mark, we're leaving.

- We're leaving. - What happened?

- Did the twinnies say something? - We're leaving.

Yeah, Mum.

They said, "Merry Christmas.

Peace on Earth. We love you so much."

No...

Oh, Lord Jesus.

Don't cry. It's all right.

It's all right. It's okay.

After Christmas, black clouds hang over

the Pallenberg family.

- Beep. -John Delroy Pallenberg

is a surgeon whose wife, Michelle Delroy Pallenberg,

has already lost two babies from a congenital heart defect.

Unfortunately, their latest child, Wayne Shane,

is diagnosed as having the same heart condition

and given only two weeks to live.

Dr. Pallenberg decides on heroic measures

to save his child.

"Michelle, we both want the baby to live, don't we?"

Michelle nodded her head.

-"Yes, John, we do."

"And so Bobby is going to do it for us

"because without that possibility

our son is going to die."

Michelle for a while gazed down at Bobby,

his large brown eyes seeming strangely concerned

-as though he had perceived something shrewdly, -

curiously.

The room took on the presence of a heavy hush,

accompanied by the shadowed whispers of a growing secret.

The Writing School.

"A correspondence course in creative writing

"will not only improve your writing style

but help you sell your stories."

Jenny.

Wait, wait. Hold on, hold on, hold on.

It says 89 pounds enrollment fee.

Well, how are we gonna afford that?

Says, "In order to qualify for the course,

"what not to write about.

"Editors as a class dislikes drunkards,

"lunatics, drug addicts,

"prostitutes and authors,

"crippled or deformed key characters,

"unpleasant children,

"adolescents who smoke and drink.

"Other editorial dislikes are mental homes,

"serious or incurable diseases.

Funerals are also a taboo."

We could do that.

Social Security number, name and address.

And here's your benefit.

Look.

Old Julie's outside,

spying on us again.

Yeah, I can see you see me.

Keep walking.

Love of your life is here, Jenny. Postman.

Has he got a package?

- Jenny, look. - Did it arrive?

Yeah.

The Art of Conversation.

Open it, open it.

- How do you open it? - Um...

Push and lift.

We're writers now.

- We're writers now. - Yes.

It says they accept our application

with a 33% discount

and we are both student 8201.

Our first assignment is due in four weeks' time.

Gonna need more ink.

What can be happening to me today?

I feel as though I'm swimming in a pool;

by the sea washing up to touch my feet,

I taste the sweet smell of salt;

salt water running in between my toes,

salt water running from my eyes,

to touch my cold and papery hands...

What can be happening to me;

I can reach out and touch the stars;

I can see Jupiter, Venus;

I can see the galaxy

And then I spot the earth

and see a missing space;

my missing space.

They're all rejections.

All of them.

My second rejection from Fontana.

And the BBC says they won't read your play

because they don't know you.

Course they don't want our stories, Jenny.

In order to write a good book, you need to feel it.

You have to be inspired.

Or feel something more than this.

Need love.

Need romance.

- Let me see.

- Is this it? - I think so.

So many breasts.

June. Look.

Wow.

He kept our cigarettes.

Look.

Oh, he's so romantic.

My American lover.

Jenny.

They're definitely, definitely dating.

- Yeah? - Yes, she told me.

- She told me...

- Hey! Hey!

- Hey!

Hey!

Stop!

Where do you two come from, the base?

They are scared, George.

Did you come around to see one of my boys?

My boys are genuine hell-raisers.

You know that, right?

Wayne! Fuck you, you massive shit.

Go suck a cock, asshole.

Whoa.

Wh-Wh...

What are you doing here?

Where have you been?

Did they kick you out of school, huh?

Hey.

Hey.

You, uh, ever get high?

Hey, give that shit to me.

Take it. There you go.

Ready, Jennifer?

Come here. Don't be scared.

Breathe it in.

That's it.

Might loosen you up a bit.

Yeah, yeah.

That's it.

June.

You do the same.

- That's it.

- Breathe it in.

That's it.

You two are some crazy goddamn bitches.

Big breath, right.

- All right?

Hmm?

I think she likes it.

June was born at 8:00,

and I was born at 8:10.

Which is why I have a good, strong,

a good, strong Aries in me.

Under the Ram.

She can also be really unpredictable,

just like an Aries.

I can't believe you can talk.

- Well, we can.

There's a lot of things we can do.

- I'm a Libra.

Of course.

- Of course he's a Libra. - Of course.

Tell me about me.

What do the stars say?

Do they say that I have a huge cock?

No.

The apartment was filled with the lonesome atmosphere

of a sleeping cemetery.

-The buzzing sound

coming from the refrigerator turned to a deep sigh

as Preston opened it to yank out a Pepsi-Cola can.

The phone began to peal.

Preston stopped. His heart raced.

And anxiously, he thought about Peggy.

She was a million miles away.

Hello?

Preston, is that you?

Peggy's voice attacked his ears.

We're not leaving Malibu.

Are you listening?

I love you, and I can't go to San Francisco.

I've gotta tell you something, Preston.

We're not leaving Malibu.

Are you listening?

I love you, and I can't go to San Francisco.

The pain deafened his eardrums.

He sank to the floor...

...the phone crashing down beside him.

-He was falling,

floating in an empty black tunnel,

like a rocket trapped in space.

-A can of Pepsi-Cola

came twisting and turning towards him.

It crashed.

Just because you've had a burst of inspiration,

doesn't mean your book's going to be better than mine.

You're just jealous of my focus.

You're a hack.

Last night's dream...

Wow.

Yes!

Jenny, New Horizon said they'll publish my book

for 80 pounds a month.

I'm gonna need a little bit of your dole.

Well, I need that money for my book

because it's going to be a knockout.

What do you mean?

You're writing a bunch of crap,

and no one's accepting it anyway.

Don't be rude!

Look, this is a big deal for me.

Read it. Look.

And what do I get out of it?

Well, when you actually get your book accepted,

I'll give you all my money, I swear.

Please.

Yes!

Okay. First things,

we need to take professional photos.

All right? Come on. Smile.

Let's go downstairs.

Perfect. Okay.

Make sure your face is like this.

- To the side? - Yes, looking professional.

- Okay, but... - Gorgeous.

Yeah, but get that right angle

because I don't want to look fat.

Does my face look fat?

- Looking great. - Mm-hmm.

Smile.

Okay.

No. No.

Oh, God, no.

- No, no, no. Terrible, no. - I don't like these.

- What am I doing there? -Look at this hair.

What is that?

What is that? Why did you tell me to do that?

- The composition of this photo does not... -Oh, my God.

I should have been so much more serious about that diet.

I've got spots. Look at that spot. There.

Oh, no. I'm way too fat to find a publisher.

And finally Michael Hyams,

from 11 Orchard Road, Dagenham in Essex.

Congratulations, gang.

And, uh, I must say, music lovers,

I think we've chosen his greatest performance ever,

Bob Dylan there, taken from the album Desire,

the one called...

Take it.

You stay there, Juney June.

Don't you move.

One of the best days of my sweet life.

I had sex before marriage.

There was lots of blood.

Sorry, God.

Your friend, Jenny.

Yeah.

Whoo. Whoo.

Oh, you lucky girl.

It's your turn tonight, Juney June.

Yeah.

I know I still have you under my spell.

You think so?

Ah.

Yeah, you're more like me.

That's 'cause our souls are fiery and competitive.

We both have mysterious styles.

We can be partners in crime, Wayne.

Ah, are you gonna rob with me?

- Yes. - Yeah?

- Mm-hmm. - Mug people with me?

- Mm-hmm. - Yeah?

You look funny when you smoke.

You want to set fires with me?

- Yeah? - Of course.

Oh, yeah.

- What? No, Wayne, don't...

- What's wrong? What's wrong? - Don't do that.

- Give it back. - You ready?

- Stop. No, no, no, don't!

No, no, no, no, no, no!

Whoo. June, you seeing this?

June!

Don't look at me like that.

Get off me!

Sorry.

Why did you do that?

I'm sorry.

- I love you.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

I love you, too.

I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry. I love you.

I love you so much. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry.

I love you. I'm so sorry.

Don't let him treat you like that.

They make their way back down the aisle

to the tumultuous welcome awaiting them

at the steps of St Paul's.

And so, out into sunshine and bells and wild delight

as a palpable wave of affection and pride

wells out from the crowd.

Gone from our lives

like the tides from the shore.

I've got no feeling for sex,

but I can't bear life without romance.

We can't go back to the empty days

before we found love.

Were it matchsticks you stole?

Hello?

Police, ambulance or fire?

I'm calling 'cause we've got a confession to make.

What's your name?

We're gonna burn the whole of Haverfordwest down.

We don't mind going to prison.

What's your name?

What?

He wants to know our names.

Names are Wayne and Carl, that's our names.

Wayne and Carl. Wayne...

Want to know where we live as well?

Want to know our fucking address?

Here's our fucking address!

Come, come, come.

Follow me.

This way.

There it is.

- Watch the car.

Fuck you, asshole!

Jenny. Jenny.

Jenny.

Police, ambulance or fire?

Police, please.

I have a confession to make.

We burnt down a tractor store...

- ...in Haverfordwest.

Yeah, we're here now.

Catch us if you can.

Jennifer Lorraine Gibbons,

you are charged with the following counts.

You did jointly, with another,

enter a certain building, as a trespasser,

steal 25 pencils, one pair of headphones,

an electric clock, a pair of scissors,

and a carton of Play-Doh,

of a value together of 40 pounds and 50 pence.

Between the 15th and 18th of October 1981,

at Haverfordwest in the county of Dyfed,

did enter a certain building, as a trespasser,

steal therein drink and food items

to the value of five pounds and 24 pence.

And on the 20th day of October 1981,

without lawful excuse, damaged by fire a tractor store.

Jennifer Lorraine Gibbons,

how do you plead, guilty or not guilty?

G-g-g-g...

And you, June Alison Gibbons,

have been charged on the same counts.

How do you plead, guilty or not guilty?

Uh, Dr. Hamilton, uh, thank you for attending court today.

Could you please tell the court your opinion

on how you found each of the defendants' state of mind

when you examined them?

And could you give the court

your recommendations that you have?

My professional opinion is that each defendant

suffers from a mental illness.

A psychopathic disorder, a subnormality of such a degree

to warrant their detention in a hospital

for medical treatment.

As such, admission has been arranged

for Broadmoor Hospital.

Does Broadmoor have facilities

that people of their age require?

It is not, not usual for persons so young

to come to Broadmoor.

Uh, however, I think compared to the remand centre,

Broadmoor offers a certain freedom and also therapy.

Uh, their treatment there

will consist of teaching them to speak.

And we maintain a sort of village-like atmosphere

at the hospital.

There are gardens.

Uh, we have, uh, hairdressers,

uh, beautiful bathrooms, and such.

Sports facilities for maintaining patients' fitness.

Oh, and, uh, we even have a swimming pool.

If that is your recommendation, Dr. Hamilton,

then regarding the information we have as to

their tendencies to be dangerous to themselves

and to each other mutually,

and in view of the difficulty of the prognosis,

would you recommend that the order I make

shall be without limit of time?

Yes.

They giving the twinnies a life sentence?

Eh?

Okay.

Okay, I figured it out.

June.

June, come on, this is our chance.

I'll slip out the window,

and you can make a ladder from knotted towels

attached to the washbasin taps, okay?

June.

June.

Juney June.

Hmm? Juney June.

Hmm? Talk to me.

What's going on?

Come on, we have to escape now,

or else we'll end up resident zombies.

Come on, June. Snap out of it.

- Come on, do as I... - Time for bed!

June Gibbons.

I hate you.

You're a witch!

You bitch! You're ruining my life!

I hate you!

Jennifer! Get off her!

Stop it!

- You fucking bitch!

June Gibbons.

Hello, June.

I'm Marjorie Wallace.

A reporter for The Sunday Times.

I don't know if you were allowed to read the article

I wrote about your trial.

I've read your writing.

Pepsi-Cola Addict had me up the other night until 4:00 a.m.

I couldn't put it down.

You have an extraordinary imagination.

The vision of Preston drowning in Pepsi-Cola.

You're very good with tension.

I should like to read more of your writing.

If you were...

telling your story...

through me...

...how would you want yours to begin?

Perhaps I would start...

She'll be all right.

Time's up.

She's on short visits in Intensive.

Please tell the doctor that June must come back.

We want to be together. It's not right.

No!

No!

Nurse!

You bastards!

No!

No!

No! No!

We have to stop.

It has to be different.

I know.

No more fighting.

We need to get our lives together

before Marjorie's book comes out.

It'll be a glorious day.

We'll walk out of here as queens of Broadmoor.

We'll be famous.

If there are photographers at the gates, we should wave.

Yeah.

- Yeah. - Not bad, eh?

We should stop smoking.

Queens don't smoke.

Mm.

I don't know your name.

- Jenny.

Debbie?

What are you doing?

Ron is going to give me his baby.

Thank you, Jesus.

It's not gonna work.

You can't just use his sperm.

You're just jealous because I'm going to be a mother

and you're not.

It's the same game with you.

What, you gonna run off with Ron?

Have a family when I die?

He'll be your twin.

Don't be stupid.

You're too pretty to die first.

So what?

But if I die, you'll just get over it.

You're the strong one.

- Fighter. - Is that what you really think?

Mm-hmm.

No, I won't.

I don't want the grief.

- It's not gonna work. - Yes, it will.

So, I found out he's in here for manslaughter.

Yeah, I know, I know.

But he said he didn't mean it.

I did have a dream about being strangled.

I just hope he didn't use his bare hands.

Hey, it's your turn to eat today.

All right. Take a seat, please.

Mm-hmm. Go on.

Oh, thanks.

No!

- No!

No, it's not her fault!

- No!

No!

- Nurse!

I'm sorry, June.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, June.

Why have the girls been sedated?

It's an outrage.

They're lost, trapped by each other.

They're not dangerous.

Excuse me, Marjorie.

You're taking away their future.

Collecting a murderer's sperm in a bottle.

What kind of future is that?

They are sensitive girls.

They are writers. You know that.

Marjorie, they just can't help themselves.

They don't even seem to want to.

When they can show that they do, I will happily hand them over.

But neither of us have any control over that.

And I don't see it happening anytime soon.

I'm not letting this go.

Leaves me no feeling in me.

I wrote you some poems.

I can't, I can't write anymore.

I'm sorry.

I am immune from sanity or insanity

I am an empty present box;

all unwrapped for someone else's disposal.

I am a thrown away egg-shell,

With no life inside me,

for I am not touchable,

but a slave to nothingness.

"And how do you suppose Bobby

is going to help our child live?" she asked.

Dr. Pallenberg gazed at her with strange remote eyes.

The room took on the presence of a heavy hush

-accompanied by the shadowed whispers -

of a growing secret.

He smiled lightly, taking her hands in his.

Gradually, he persuades Michelle to accept his plan.

-They converted their kitchen

into a makeshift operating theatre

and, with Michelle as his assistant,

John Pallenberg plucks Bobby's heart from his body

and implants it in baby Wayne.

The parents keep their secret well.

Wayne grows into a remarkable child,

very advanced for his age.

But at seven months,

Wayne shocks Michelle by saying...

"Bobby.

I want Bobby."

His parents didn't know what to say

because Bobby had sacrificed his life

in order to save him.

How are you both doing?

We feel fine.

Do we look fine?

You look good.

I look good.

How about you, Jenny?

Have you been eating?

I'm good.

I'll eat when I'm gone.

Marjorie...

Are you listening?

Yes.

Got something to tell you.

What's that?

I'm going to die.

What makes you think of death?

I just know.

Twinnies, the news is good.

Dr. Le Couteur feels you've improved enough

for him to sign the transfer to Wales.

Are you being for real?

Yes.

We're leaving here?

We're leaving. We're leaving, June.

I told you.

Oh, my God.

It's a good day, it's a good day,

because the sun's shining and the birds...

- It's a good day. I told you. - They saying it's only weeks.

Oh, I'm so happy for us.

Oh, June, it's been 11 years of hell.

We can bring you whichever clothes

you'd like to wear out of here.

Maybe some jeans?

Maybe skirts.

Sweetheart,

you need to take care of yourself

so you're healthy on the way out.

She'll be fine, Mummy.

I'm nearly 30.

Would I be prettier if I put on weight?

Just a couple of weeks.

It won't seem so long.

You've got your whole life ahead of you.

You, too.

Transport leaving.

Van leaving.

Jenny.

Jenny, we're home.

Jenny.

Jenny, wake up.

Jenny.

- Jenny. - Is this a game?

No.

- Jenny?

Help me.

What's... what's wrong with her?

- Come on.

- Jenny.

Oh.

- Jenny!

Jenny.

- Jenny.

Jenny!

Breathe, please.

Please.

Please wake up.

Jenny, wake up.

It's not funny anymore. Get up.

Jenny, wake up!

Wake up. It's not funny anymore!

Please, please, get up.

Jenny, please.

It's not funny, it's not funny.

Stop playing games, Jenny. Get up.

Stand up, Jenny!

Jenny, get up.

All right, June?