Original subtitles

I'm scared of death.

But aren't we all?

What lies on the other side?

Every death forces us to look in the mirror,

to think about our own demise.

That's why we need ritual,

something which allows the living to move on,

letting us bury the secrets of the dead,

forever.

But secrets are a funny thing.

They have a way of clawing their way back to the surface.

Think his family will mind us being there? We hardly knew Darragh.

It's not a funeral, Sizergh. It's a wake.

Knowing the deceased isn't necessary.

Getting smashed in their honor is.

Ah, it's good craic. I've been to wakes where I barely even knew 'em.

No respect for the dead.

No respect for the dead. I'll fuckin' kill him.

I'll fuckin' kill him.

No! Are you fucking stoned? What the hell are you doin'?

You come back from California with your slimy tech...

- What the hell? - ...and you think you own the town?

Take a look at the state of the place!

I can't believe this, Fintan.

Dead Darragh isn't even cold yet,

and here ya are, settin' out your wares for a party.

Is he okay?

Have you no respect?

A man is dead, and you're preparing some cheap disco.

Darragh gave this festival his blessing.

And a signed contract.

Unlike some people, he could see what we're trying to do here.

To bring this town together for something positive.

You lanky wanker. I ought to rip your fuckin' tongue out.

Try it. I'll sue you till you can't even afford to breathe.

Seamus, relax.

Fuck you, Shitpants.

Bodkin is changing, Seamus.

The future's gonna happen, whether you like it or not.

Back to work now! Chop-chop!

You're right, Gilbert.

He is a really nice guy.

Would you look at all this nonsense?

- It's a lot of fuss. - No.

The last Samhain Festival ended in disaster,

not to mention the vandalism

and wanton destruction of property that took place.

As head of the Samhain Safety Committee, I assumed your podcast

would be very interested in hearing our perspective on it.

I'd rather listen to fuckin' paint dry.

Thanks so much.

I just... So sorry.

Thanks for coming. Make yourself a cuppa tea.

Jaysus, the lungs on her.

- Who are they? - Darragh's two sisters, down from Mayo.

Whole place is theirs now. Looking to get a pretty penny for it.

You sure it's okay to just turn up like this?

- Darragh's family are in mourning. - Exactly.

So they're throwing a three-day party to cheer themselves up.

Besides... the Badger is in there. He and I need to have a little chat.

I'll talk to Seamus, all right?

You'll just scare him off. All right?

For all we know, he's been living a perfectly innocent life all this time.

Men like him don't change.

Think about it. I get run over.

Sean's car is set on fire. And now Darragh's "accident."

- You really think he was murdered? - Let's not jump to conclusions, all right?

Our job is to ask questions, not to make wild assumptions.

Okay.

- Sorry for your loss. Sorry. - Thank you.

Ah, how're ya, Bob?

Let's go! Let's go! Get your jacket!

Run! Run! Excuse me! Coming through! Coming through!

Do you like the makeup? Did it myself.

What are you, the undertaker or something?

I am, actually.

Mary Donovan, Donovan and Sons Funeral Home.

"Sons"?

My brothers were more squeamish than anticipated.

And you are?

Dove. Uh... I'm curious, was there an autopsy on Darragh's body?

You only carry out an autopsy when the death is suspicious,

which Darragh's was not.

- Poor man just tripped and hit his head. - How can you be so sure?

Angle of the fall, depth of the wound.

A blood alcohol level that could strip paint.

On behalf of the family,

I'd like to thank you all for coming to pay your respects.

Amen.

Hail Mary, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women.

And blessed be the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women,

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death.

Hail Mary, the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women. Blessed be the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

We should recor...

Egg and tuna in the one sandwich.

Bafflin'.

Sad day.

Poor Darragh.

What was his second name?

Thought so.

You ought to be ashamed of yourself,

picking over honest people's grief like a vulture.

I'm a journalist.

Of course you are.

And I know it's fun for you city folk to come down here and gawp at us.

But our lives aren't fodder for your entertainment.

Well, you seem pretty interesting to me.

Well now, I might have an interesting story for you.

Let's say

I work for the British government,

and I want to whistleblow

about a bunch of data breaches in the healthcare system.

So I tell my story to a journalist...

...who promises me all sorts of anonymity,

but somehow, on the very day said journalist publishes her story,

my name is leaked.

And my life is turned upside down.

Well, I just might end up killing meself.

All because of this journalist's glaring incompetence.

You want to be careful gawping. You never know who'll gawp back.

Mm!

Nice sausages, mind.

The Rolling Stones is the best band ever.

Wild Horses. Think about it. Wild Horses. Doesn't get any better.

- Paint It, Black. - You can't go wrong with the Stones.

I don't know why they try to make new songs anymore.

You look very relaxed for a man who's up to his ears in debt.

Th-This isn't really the... the time or... or the place to be...

I'm fucking with you.

Relax. It's a party.

No money talk.

- What is she talking about? - Uh, nothing. Nothing.

Uh, so,

were you close with... with Darragh?

No, not really.

We had a few business dealings over the years.

Okay, and was he, uh, friends with Malachy?

Who?

Malachy, the guy who disappeared on Samhain.

I didn't know him.

What about you?

What were you doing on Samhain? Sounds like it was a pretty crazy night.

I wouldn't know. I missed the entire thing.

I gave my pal Greta a lift to Dublin that night,

but by the time I got back, it was all over.

Yeah.

All right. I'm going in.

I'm gonna see what I can tease out about Darragh and Malachy.

Great. I'll try to see if I can find anything too.

All right.

Fuck's sake.

Can offer you a real drink, if you're interested.

Homemade poitín,

guaranteed to change any mood.

For better or worse?

It's good stuff. I make it in the bathtub.

Yeah, I don't think going blind will cheer me up.

Find your own drink, then, if you're so chickenshit.

Jesus fucking hell.

I age it with formaldehyde.

It adds character, if you know what I mean.

You...

You're some easy mark, you know that?

That's the spirit.

Jesus. Why are the sexy ones always so moody?

Uh...

That should do it.

He was as sweet as an angel, was Darragh.

Never a bad word for anyone.

I spent months trying to shift Darragh,

but he said that he wanted to wait until he was married,

so I married Tommy here.

Now, with Tommy, I had the opposite problem.

He's like a rabbit.

Darragh used to be quite devout,

but he never attended Mass again after his spell away.

I thought he never left the farm.

Well, it's... it's a long time ago now.

Do you know where he went?

You know yourself,

a nod is as good as a wink to a blind man, huh?

Is that Edna O'Shea I see there?

You're kinda interesting, aren't you?

I've been called worse.

Yeah, I bet.

Trade you one for one.

All right. You go first.

I traded Bodkin for London.

Small town, big dreams.

Fell in love, fell out of love.

Turns out, I am better at handling dead ones than live ones,

so I came home.

We have plenty of dead ones in London.

Yeah, but not so many wakes.

Where would I meet anyone new?

You know, normally, people who take themselves so seriously

are kind of a pain in the ass, but on you, it is kind of cute.

You're drunk.

Yeah, well, I'd want to be.

This stuff is about 90% proof.

Can we cut to the chase?

I wa...

Excuse me.

Damien.

Bye, then.

He's the fuckin' Badger, Damien.

An infamous smuggler, missing-slash-presumed dead,

living all this time down in bloody Bodkin.

- This could be huge. - Stop. Stop.

Wha... I haven't even told you the best bit...

I mean it. Stop. Breathe.

Don't tell me to breathe, Damien. I'm always fuckin' breathing.

They got a warrant to search your flat.

They found Krtek's laptop.

Now the Home Office think that you stole it.

They are launching a formal investigation against you.

That's bullshit. I didn't steal it.

He asked me to mind it. It's standard practice.

No, Dove, it's not. It's government property.

The guy was scared shitless. He came to me for help.

What was I supposed to do?

You were supposed to tell me so this wouldn't hit me like a train!

Damien, you know this is bullshit.

Th-They're punishing me for breaking the story.

I mean, they're the ones that fucking leaked his name.

I think you need to come home.

Oh, now you want me home?

I find a story here, an actual story, and you want me home to defend myself

against faceless bureaucrats who've got their knickers in a twist?

No, not a chance.

Dove... it's serious.

Yeah, of course it's fuckin' serious, so I need you to step up, vouch for me.

Tell them I mentioned it to you at the time.

Lie for you, you mean?

You're meant to protect me, Damien.

You really think there's a story in this Badger thing?

100%.

Keep on it, then. I'll see what I can do from here.

Fuck.

♪ Down through New Orleans ♪

♪ Yes, I have ♪

♪ I've played in California ♪

♪ There ain't too much I haven't seen ♪

♪ No, there ain't ♪

♪ Lord, I'm a ramblin' man ♪

♪ Don't fool around with a ramblin' man ♪

Did you, uh, know Darragh well?

Well as you can know anyone, I suppose.

It seems like he was a good man.

Yeah, he was.

Good friend.

Helped me out a lot.

He was...

He was good to my brother.

- Does your brother live around... - You know that Dove woman?

Uh, what about her?

I mean, she's a fiercely irritating individual.

Yep. Can't argue with you there.

The type of woman who'd start a fight in an empty room.

Yeah, she's, uh, very driven.

Huh, you see... I had a different word.

Oh, would you excuse me a moment?

- Sure. - Why don't you grab us some drinks?

♪ Lord, I'm a ramblin' man ♪

♪ Don't mess around with a... ♪

I heard them lads that went missing had their arms and legs chopped off.

Hey, you wanna come around mine later? I've a big secret I could show you.

Get the fuck, the lot of you!

Bunch of inbred scobes.

- Piss off, would ya, yeah? - I was in the middle of something.

They don't know shit.

A bunch of cowboys looking for the ride.

What does that make you?

I'm the horse whisperer, darlin'.

Does that line ever work?

Eh... Yeah, sometimes. You'd be surprised.

I really would.

Don't lump me in with those culchies though.

I'm better than this lot here. I'm made for more.

- Like what? - More than anyone here can imagine.

I've already survived an orphanage.

Nobody knows what I've been through. I... I don't belong here.

Do you know what I mean?

I actually do, yeah.

If you fancy, we can jump in the back of my car

and search together?

Jesus. Sean!

Oh.

Hey, I was jokin'.

It was a joke, obviously. We... we can jump in the front.

Dove, what are you doing?

My job.

Shall I come with you?

No.

Having fun, pet?

Loads.

Wasn't sure how much milk you took. I hope it's okay.

No, that's perfect.

I'd murder a cuppa tea.

Excuse me.

Hi there. I'm Emmy.

I just wondered if I could talk to you about the...

So this podcast of yours, it's about Samhain, right?

The disappearances?

Yes, but it's about the town too.

We wanna talk with people, see where the story takes us.

Good luck getting any sense out of anyone in this town.

Claire, where are you? Have you heard from the PA guys?

Fleetwood Mac are bog-standard, Top 40 shite.

That's what your taste in music is, shite.

And they should be flushed down the toilet where they belong.

You should flush yourself down after them. You're full of it, shite.

Here. Hold that.

- Do you want one of these? - No, go on.

- Drink? - I don't wanna hear another word.

You lovely man.

You know, so many people have said such kind things about Darragh.

Thank you.

You know, it-it-it's funny,

because he told me that he never left this place,

but then I was hearing about a time that he did leave town?

Oh.

We should have a word.

- In private. - Of course.

Sorry if I was rude earlier.

Sometimes this place makes me so mad, I forget why I came back.

I imagine Bodkin's a bit of a culture shock for you.

You don't know anything about me.

Hello. I'm Fintan.

Sorry for being a dick just then.

You seem cool and interesting, and I'd like to talk to you.

And hopefully, we can have a full conversation

before you realize how painfully socially awkward I am.

Tsk. Good pivot.

That's the first law of tech, interpret the data and adapt.

Tsk.

Nicely done.

Like, you have your ups and downs with family,

but... at the end of the day, they're your own flesh and blood.

You don't want anyone to be thinking ill of them.

Yeah, of course.

I mean, we wouldn't want to upset either you or your sister

in-in your hour of grief.

The last thing the family wants

is for Darragh to be remembered for his mistakes.

Yeah, uh, of course.

No point dragging it over the coals now.

Thank you.

I mean, we were mortified when he was sent to prison.

But then he comes back with that boy Malachy in tow.

Nothing was ever the same again.

Yeah, Darragh and... and Malachy met... met in prison.

Yeah.

I could never understand it.

Darragh thought the world of him.

He was heartbroken when Malachy disappeared.

I tried to comfort him, but... he never really listened to me.

Sure, he always confided in Alice.

Oh, but I loved him so much.

Course you did.

- I did. I loved him. - Course.

In for a penny...

So what do you remember of Samhain?

I, uh...

I saw Jackie Lantern.

Who?

He's this mythic blacksmith who's doomed to wander the earth for eternity.

When we were kids, we'd dare each other to go to the bog lake on Samhain,

because that's where Jackie Lantern turns up.

And?

Well... can I be honest?

I was 14 at the time,

and, uh, I'd recently discovered magic mushrooms.

And I was trying to show off to a girl, so I took shrooms, ended up there.

And you saw him?

Oh yeah.

I saw a huge, hulking, hideous monster emerging from the bog on Samhain.

- You're making this up. - I'm not.

I swear.

Nice view.

All I see is shit.

Fields and fields of shit.

Besides, every second here

is another moment away from my poor sick Maurice.

He has the cancer, you know.

How long have you been married?

Maurice is my cat.

No one understands, do they?

You know, how much our cats mean to us.

Do you have a cat?

Oh yeah.

Two.

What breed are they?

You know, they're, uh...

Strays is the best way to... describe it.

I got them from a rescue.

Good man.

So Dot mentioned how heartbroken Darragh was when Malachy went missing.

They must have been great friends.

"Friends"?

That's one word for it, I suppose.

What do you mean?

Don't be daft.

Poor Darragh obviously dug with the other foot.

Oh.

W... Were they together?

Hardly.

Malachy never seemed to return my brother's feelings,

but he did exploit them.

Malachy kept Darragh on a short leash.

Made him rent that land to him for years for next to nothing.

Everyone could see it but Darragh, the great big eejit.

Then Malachy disappeared.

And his brother just waltzed into town, took over the lease at the same rate.

He let those two good-for-nothing brothers just take advantage of him.

So Malachy had a brother?

Of course.

Weren't you talking to him earlier? It's Seamus Gallagher.

Oh.

And then the devil gave Jackie a hot coal in a turnip.

It's why you carve pumpkins on Halloween.

You'd think the Devil would give you something more useful...

...like a car.

Um, so, what did he look like?

- Who? - Jackie Lantern.

Oh.

Very big.

Very frightening.

Only the bravest of boys can look at him.

- And that's you, is it? - It's a blessing and a curse.

You know, I... I haven't thought about that night in so long. God, I...

I think there was some sort of a car crash that night too.

Where?

I didn't, uh... see it.

I... I... I just heard this screeching and... and then a huge crash,

and then this bloodcurdling scream over near the Casement Road.

But when I finally got over there, there was no sign of a crash at all.

Nothing.

But that's when I saw Jackie,

out in the distance, coming out of the bog lake.

What did Jackie do?

Honestly,

I don't know.

I ran away.

But only for very impressive and manly reasons.

So brave.

The bravest.

Yeah, Gilbert,

such a nice guy.

Then you hear some tech bro's in town, and you imagine someone, um...

Someone...

A bit cooler than you.

- You're mean. - Mm, I'm just interpreting the data.

- Hey, have you seen Dove? - She left.

Left for where?

Incredible as it is to believe, she didn't talk through her plans with me.

Do you mind?

Thank you.

Um... uh, but listen,

you have to hear this, okay?

Fintan saw something on the night of Samhain.

Saw what?

He heard a car crash outside of town and a scream,

then saw a mythical blacksmith from Irish folklore coming out of a bog.

Okay, well, get it on tape. Maybe it'll add to the general mood.

Y... You said you wanted folktales.

Yeah, uh, text me if you see Dove.

- All good? - Mm-hmm.

Just a thought. You want a change of scenery?

Um...

You need to ask permission?

No.

Let's go.

- ♪ Don't stop thinking about tomorrow ♪ - ♪ Stop thinking about tomorrow ♪

♪ Don't stop, it'll soon be here ♪

♪ It'll be here, better than before ♪

♪ Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone ♪

Hang on.

♪ Don't stop Thinking about tomorrow ♪

♪ Don't stop... ♪

Mwah!

Sleeping beauty.

- ♪ Don't stop... ♪ - Tommy!

Right, lads... I don't need to tell you how important it is to protect the goods.

Yeah?

Hup.

Fuck off.

Nice ride.

You're not gonna believe what I found out.

You're not gonna believe what I found out.

Wha...

- Seamus and Malachy were brothers? - Yes.

Okay, but why would they come here and rent Darragh's land?

Well, the coastline is incredibly difficult to police.

It's a perfect haven for smugglers.

We're onto something, Gilbert, I'm telling you.

So, what does it mean that Seamus wanted to marry Fiona?

It's Shakespeare.

Two brothers smuggling drugs, fighting for control of their empire.

Malachy steals Seamus's fiancée, so Seamus kills both of them.

Okay, but what about Teddy? Why'd he go missing?

I don't know. He was probably wanking in the woods for three days.

Teenage boys are gross.

Hmm.

"Smuggler murders family."

That's the story.

Slainte.

The entire thing will be 100% renewable.

A vertical farm, 250 well-paying jobs.

You trying to sell this to me? 'Cause I'm convinced.

I'm just excited.

The server farm I'm building now is just the beginning.

And we can expand into wind farms, geothermal, housing, infrastructure.

Bodkin 2.0.

Curious much?

These are Teddy's, right?

Yeah.

Are you a fan of his work?

In a way.

He was a friend.

A good friend.

- Was? - He and I, we, uh... had a sort of a rift.

Long time ago. I'm just trying to help him out.

Why would you do that?

The night he disappeared, I, uh...

I was supposed to meet him,

but I ditched him for the sake of that girl.

He used to be such a smart guy.

Smarter than me.

Funny.

But after he disappeared that Samhain, he was... different.

Quiet.

Dark.

You feel guilty?

I suppose I keep thinking if I'd met him as planned,

then maybe he'd be okay.

I always struggled to fit in, you know?

I was one of those kids who always seemed to be the butt of the joke.

Is that why Seamus called you "shitpants"?

When I was ten, I shat my pants during a school play.

Been my nickname ever since.

Say what you like about Bodkin, we're a literal people.

But not Teddy.

He was always loyal.

He probably spent the whole night waiting for me to turn up.

Hey. What would you have done?

All the shit that happened that night

was so long ago.

Can we not let it go and move forward?

Just have a little fuckin' fun?

We can try.

So,

are we doing this?

- Doing what? - Fun.

Woo-hoo!

Dove, come dance!

No.

Dancing's a weakness.

Oh, sorry, I forgot you're far too cool to dance.

Yeah, precisely. You've read me very well, Gilbert.

You hate everything.

Slainte.

Come on. You must like something. Wha... Tell me one thing you like.

Whiskey.

Whiskey's a thing. It's not a hobby.

Come on. Tell me what you like to do.

Gilbert, what you've just said is blasphemy.

Whiskey is an Irishman's number one hobby.

What do you like to do when you're... you're not working?

I write poetry.

Long romantic epics

filled with lust and desire and heartbreak.

Bullshit.

I don't know if you've realized this about me yet, Gilbert,

but I'm kind of an arsehole.

No, I realized it a long time ago.

See?

This version of you,

wild Gilbert, it's way more fun than that sunshiny Yank I first met.

I guess that's as close to a compliment as I'm gonna get from you, so... boop.

Think it's time to get outta here!

Wait. Get this.

Just the fella I was looking for.

Who's that?

The Yank here owes me money.

He owes you shit.

He owes me 8,000 fucking euro.

Oh, is that a lot of money to you?

Look here, love...

Uh...

That's my nose, you crazy cunt.

Fuckin' run, Gilbert!

- Dove, wait! - Just keep going!

Oh my God.

- Eight thousand euro? - I know, I know. I can explain.

- You fucking idiot. - I can explain.

I know. I know. It wasn't my finest hour, all right?

- You've only been here for two minutes. - Yeah.

It was the first time in the pub, and I... you know, I drank a little bit too much.

And then, I guess I just tried too hard to ingratiate myself.

You give me so much shit for bulldozing in.

- Then you go and lose eight grand... - I know, I know.

- ...to a fucking hippie. - I know, but... Dove...

Dove, I'm in real trouble.

All right? I've mortgaged my house.

And I've borrowed money, a ton of money,

just to keep my company going.

Well, Damien says you're the hit-maker.

No, one hit. I had one fucking hit.

And for a moment, it was like, oh, everyone's listening to me, right?

And that's when I started the company, and I threw every cent that I had in it.

But it's like everything after that

has hit the air like a fucking lead balloon.

Just... pff!

It's like nobody's listening anymore.

Fuck.

What if I'm a one-hit wonder?

And it's not just... not just career.

You know, it's like everything is falling apart.

Money, debt.

Things with my wife...

...are just... just not good.

But I can... I can fix everything.

All right? I can... I can get back to where I belong.

I just need this one to work.

All right? I... I need your help.

I get it.

Everyone's out to get ya.

And you're just... trying to do your job. You're trying to tell the fucking truth.

They don't wanna hear it. They never do.

So you do everything, fuckin'...

everything

to get the job done.

No matter the consequences.

Are we talking about the same thing?

I get it.

Mm. That looks delicious. Thank you.

And what'll you be having this morning?

Tea. Just... tea.

Mm!

How can you eat?

I started drinking a glass of water between every pint of Guinness,

and it really helps.

You should try it.

- Hmm. - So, uh... what's our game plan?

Oh. Go back to bed?

Sleep forever?

We have to go to Darragh's funeral.

I'd like to dedicate my hangover to Darragh.

He'd want me to go back to bed.

No, but Seamus will be there, and you'll need to talk to him.

Uh...

Look, I... I like the guy,

but if he really is the Badger, isn't it dangerous to confront him?

Mm. Seamus is the key.

You want a big podcast, catching him will deliver that in spades.

I hope I didn't worry you.

Well, I'm only just in, actually.

You missed a button.

Ugh.

Because God has chosen to call our brother Darragh

from this life to himself,

we commit his body to the earth.

For we are dust, and unto dust we shall return.

But the Lord Jesus Christ shall change our mortal bodies

to be like himself in glory.

For he is risen, the firstborn from the dead.

We commend our brother Darragh to the Lord.

- Go on. - So the Lord may embrace him in peace.

- And raise his body... - Nothing worthwhile ever came easy.

For our brother Darragh, let us pray to the Lord Jesus Christ,

who said, "I am the resurrection and the life."

- "Whoever believes in me shall live..." - Seamus, wait up.

"Whoever lives and believes shall never die."

- Got a minute? - For what?

I wondered if you wanted to talk.

Talk?

You know... about Darragh.

Accept our prayers on behalf...

Do you get seasick?

So may your mercy join him to the angels in heaven.

- We ask this to Christ our Lord. - Amen.

Hello.

I saw you standing here, and I thought it might be worth seeing

if you had reconsidered your interest in our worthy cause.

No.

Let's go.

Sorry.

I know you must think we're just small-town busybodies,

but our concerns are genuine.

We don't want history to repeat itself.

You might be more interested if you knew what happened to Seamus that night.

Oh. Sorry.

What do you mean?

The statue of Saint Seamus, in the grotto on Casement Road.

Christ.

This is important.

At the last Samhain Festival, a car crashed into poor Saint Seamus

and almost completely destroyed him.

That level of violence is totally unacceptable.

Did you say car crash on the Casement Road?

Isn't that what I've been trying to tell you?

Dove, wait!

Fintan heard a car crash up there,

and then saw something, someone walking out of a bog.

Maybe Malachy? Fiona?

Something happened up there that night.

Where is this road?

You know, in Ireland, it was considered bad luck

for a fisherman to learn how to swim.

That doesn't seem sensible.

Ah, well, it is and it isn't.

Y'know, maybe it seemed wrong to tempt fate,

or... maybe there was no point fighting the inevitable.

Darragh loved the sea.

Told me once he wanted to be cremated and his ashes spread to the waves.

He hated the idea of being trapped in a box.

His sisters buried him anyway.

Mad, isn't it, all the things you think are so important?

The next thing you know,

you're in a box.

You ever, uh, lose anyone close?

Haven't we all?

The big thing for me was my wife.

It was cancer.

It was bad.

And then I took the most

intimate and the difficult parts from the worst time in my married life

and I shared it with the whole world.

Never thought for a second that, you know, how big it would become.

How public.

People loved it, you know?

True Love.

I mean, everyone except my wife.

She beat the cancer.

Course she did.

But we can't quite seem to beat what I did.

Well, people do what they have to do to survive.

Maybe that's all you were doing, surviving.

I did the opposite.

Tried to bury it, put it in the past.

Who, uh...

Who was it...

that... that you lost?

Now, you lads seem awful interested in my past, I notice.

Dove in particular.

You know, it's...

That's the way she is with everyone.

I did wonder if

you,

maybe, knew what she was fishing for?

She...

She thinks you were in a relationship with Fiona,

and that Malachy was your brother.

Does she, now?

Do you know what happened to them?

I didn't mean to...

I know exactly what you meant.

I loved that woman more than life itself. Huh?

I saw my children in her eyes.

I would have moved heaven and hell for her.

Malachy...

Malachy was my rock.

And then, one day, they were just gone.

Gone where?

Sometimes you have to face the fact that some questions

shouldn't be answered.

So you hold onto that lovely wife of yours, Gilbert...

because there's some things that are worse than death.

Purgatory's an Irish creation, after all.

Swim well, friend.

Look, the Casement Road just dead-ends into...

into a bog?

Zoom in.

What does that look like to you?

A car?

We should call Gilbert.

Maybe it's just a rock.

Shaped like a car?

Come on.

I don't see anything.

We've got two people who disappeared

and a mysterious car crash on that same night.

You don't think it's connected?

Maybe.

One of us is gonna have to go in.

Okay.

Dove, it's freezing. And it's probably nothing.

Ugh.

It's a car.

- Oh my God. - Right here. I fuckin' knew it.

Did you get anything from Seamus?

Look, he's not who you think he is.

You know, i-if he was the Badger, he definitely isn't anymore.

He's just... just a man.

A really... A sad man.

You know, may... maybe be this podcast isn't about all this crime stuff.

You know?

I mean, maybe it's a story about grief,

and a man who's dealing with losing all the people he cares deepest about.

- Right? - Wow, yeah. Great hook.

People are really gonna wanna listen to that.

I think it sounds really interesting.

Ye can't just be goin' around pulling things out of bogs.

There's official paperwork needs filling out.

Folks, just stay back at a safe distance now.

- Get back, lads. Go on home. - Whose is it?

No, I don't know whose it is. No.

It's empty.

Right, she's empty. Nothing to see here.

Will you all just go on home, please?

It was worth a shot.

- I guess. - Hmm.

- Fuck me. - Oh my God.

Two bodies locked together for over 20 years in a bog.

Buried secrets finally coming to life.

It's a storyteller's dream.

And I wish we'd never fucking found them.