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That's what abuse does to you, you know?
It made me this sticking plaster for all of life's weirdos.
This... open wound for them to sniff at.
I knew she was mad, and I knew she was dangerous,
but she flattered me.
That was enough.
A random audience member recorded me on the sly
and uploaded the video to YouTube, and it went viral.
In a matter of weeks,
I went from a walking ghost to the center of a media storm.
It was so overwhelming that I almost didn't notice
that Martha had stopped emailing.
Too distracted by all the new work opportunities to take notice.
It was like something took over, and I just started coming out with it.
Podcasts, radio shows, bigger gigs, better crowds.
Everyone wanted a piece of me,
and my career sprung into surprising action.
I honestly couldn't believe it was all happening.
For the first time in my life, I really felt like I was going somewhere.
Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage
Donny Dunn!
And there is nothing like your life going so visibly well
to let your sexual abuser know,
"Fuck you. You failed to break me."
Ah, thank you very much.
Now, for those of you that have seen the viral video,
don't worry, I'm not gonna go into all that again.
Although there is a guy in the front row looking at me a bit funny.
Is it possible to get a DBS check on this guy, please?
I couldn't keep up with it, everything that was happening.
It was like my life began three decades in,
and all I needed to do to achieve it was to be honest with myself.
It's funny how things work out.
And sometimes I would find myself in the free fall of happiness,
and wonder what it was in me that kept it in for so long.
What it was in me that felt so afraid.
Hello.
I wasn't gonna speak to you again,
but I've been putting down the basics regarding what you said on stage.
Do your parents know about all that in the video, yeah?
The shirtlifting, and the guy's cock half hanging out of you.
I mean, should I tell them?
Probably fair to know their son's an ugly little bumboy.
It's the least you deserve for all those things you said about me.
I cannot express how furious I am about the way you shafted me.
And just like that, at the worst possible time,
during the most important moment of my professional life,
Martha got my number.
How the fuck could I let her get my number?
First new message.
You know, I've been leaving your parents alone
because I didn't have the time for it,
but I think they're gonna wanna know information like this.
I don't think your dad looks like the accepting type.
I couldn't tell if Martha was bluffing,
or if she would actually do something as awful as tell my family.
Either way, I unplugged from her for a few days and made plans.
I just had to get to my parents before she did.
Look, I, um...
I don't know whether you've... seen this...
video of me that's been going around online.
No, bear, I'm not on social media anymore, and your dad...
Isn't a fucking moron.
Okay. Thanks for that. Um...
Well...
it's this video where I, uh...
I confess a lot of things.
I just...
I just... I feel very confused,
and, um, I...
I don't really know anything anymore, but I'm trying to, you know, like,
get through it.
I don't think I'm... I'm straight anymore. Um...
I think I'm probably, like,
bisexual maybe.
It's a journey, anyway, but it's...
it's one that I... I need to go on with your support.
These past few years have been really difficult.
And I think you're gonna have a choice now
between a...
between a bi son or a... or a gay son, whatever I become,
or a dead one, because I can't handle it anymore.
Keeping it in.
Oh, love, that's easy.
Giving us a choice like that, there's no question which one we're gonna go for.
Just... Please, just let me finish.
And I sort of speak about... other things in the video too.
I was, um...
I was
raped by a man.
Oh my God.
I'm fine, all right? I promise.
But I spoke about it in this online video, and now everyone knows.
I just feel so fucking embarrassed,
and I guess I never wanted you to know
because I didn't want you to think less of me,
you know...
as a man.
Oh, darling, of course we don't.
You're our son, whatever happens.
I just feel less of one,
having let something like that happen to me.
But you didn't let it happen. You weren't to blame.
Would you see me as less of one?
What?
Would you see me as less of a man?
Uh, well, no.
I grew up in the Catholic Church.
Uh, sorry, I... I...
I don't understand.
Jesus. I...
I don't know what to say.
You don't have to say anything.
Just know we are always here.
Oh, Bear, I'm so sorry.
I slept 12 hours that night and woke up to a new dawn.
I felt lighter somehow.
Amazed, even, by the sudden peace I found within myself.
I spent the next few days in Scotland with my phone off, enjoying the quiet.
I told my parents everything. Teri, Martha, Darrien.
I hadn't felt so at ease in all my life.
There was no need to be afraid anymore.
There was never any need.
And by the time I boarded the train back down,
I really felt like there was nothing in my way.
Nothing, of course, apart from Martha.
Good luck with the transsexual.
Yep, thank you, Dad. Just... Thanks.
You can go now.
Jesus Christ.
Welcome to your voicemail.
You have 50 new messages.
First new message.
You stood there, like a fucking guppy,
wafting that bitch right under my nose,
your cock practically in her,
and you're expecting me to do what?
She's ringing me now, literally, as I stand here.
- I can see that, Mr. Dunn. Then do something.
You can't ring somebody that many times in a day, surely.
Well, no, you can't, but obviously with unknown numbers,
it's very difficult to prove who is actually calling.
So you're saying I can call anyone I meet as many times as I want,
and as long as I withhold my number, I'm free to do as I please?
You're not planning to?
No, I'm not planning to.
I'm making a point. This behavior shouldn't be allowed.
How'd she get your number anyway?
She'd stopped emailing, so I set an out-of-office,
and it must have... replied to her.
That's gotta hurt.
Giving it away so easily after managing to keep it from her for so long.
Why is that helpful?
Wha... Uh...
What about her phone number? Have you tried blocking that?
Of course I've tried. You can't block unknown numbers.
You should know this.
Can't you just go into the back and listen to the voicemails she's been leaving?
We can't listen to that many voicemails. We don't have the resources.
Oh my God. So, what? I just change my number and let her win again?
Well, there is another option.
Now, I need to speak off the record here, but
it might make sense to keep your number
and wait for her to say something that we can use to expedite this case.
You're serious?
Merely a suggestion.
Go home. Mark down moments where she says something threatening.
She's leaving you numerous voicemails a day.
Chances are there'll be something there we can use.
First new message. I'm gonna be frank with you...
Over the next few months, Martha's voicemails became the podcast to my life.
I listened to her on every bus ride, every Tube journey,
in the street between meetings.
She was there in my ears all the time.
Don't forget what I said about confidentiality.
Her voicemails playing out this retrospective
of our entire relationship together.
When you said about hanging the curtains,
I assumed you had a one-night stand in mind.
She remembered everything with such lucidity.
Do you remember that gig you performed at back in the day?
The chats, the laughter.
The false promises.
I'm shocked you did something like that.
I couldn't believe the meaning she would glean
from the most implausible of places.
You surrendered to me that day, didn't you? By the water.
I started to download them, log and categorize them,
color-code them into different emotions and subjects.
All this fame means fuck all. They don't love you.
They'll grow bored. I love you. Yeah?
It became an obsession.
I ignored work calls, canceled gigs and interviews,
devoted my life to unpacking the mystery of Martha.
Why she was the way that she was.
I'm not sure I ever got close to finding the answer.
You've got psychiatric problems, darling.
In fact, over time, I found myself relating to her all over again.
Our shared insecurities, our fears for the future.
The same things at night which kept us from our sleep.
London's full of charlatans and backstabbers and liars.
The way she managed to distract me from all the things that I'd lost.
She threatened me many times, said stuff that was violent or phobic.
Isn't abuse for little boys and their piano teachers?
About me or Teri or the abuse.
But still, I found myself ignoring it.
Has anything new come up that we should know about?
No.
Holding off reporting her out of fascination or empathy or guilt.
- Any excuse to keep her in my life. Don't you dare!
And sometimes, in my darkest hours,
as I lay awake, listening to how much she was suffering...
I get heavy at night. I sometimes feel so angry.
Angry at the world and what it's taken from me.
I did have to fight every fiber of my being not to call her back.
So when I did eventually report her,
I only did it because she started on my family.
I only did it because it felt like a risk I couldn't take any longer.
Message.
So you and your family, you keep your traps shut, yeah?
You're on your final warning. I fucking mean it this time.
Because I've got a raging PMT
where I could just about stab anyone in England, in Britain.
So you'd better watch what you're saying because maybe one day I will stab someone.
Martha was arrested the next day
and charged with three counts of stalking and harassment.
And by the time a date was set for her plea hearing,
I couldn't tell whether it was putting an end to her fascination or mine.
All rise.
Be seated.
Stand up, Ms. Scott.
You are charged with the harassment of Mr. Donald Dunn
between the dates of 14th August 2015 and 22nd March 2017.
Are you guilty or not guilty?
Guilty.
You are charged with the stalking of Mr. Donald Dunn
between the dates of 14th August 2015 and 22nd March 2017.
Are you guilty or not guilty?
Guilty.
You are charged with the harassment of Gerald Dunn
and Eleanor Dunn
between the dates of 6th June 2016 and 22nd March 2017.
Are you guilty or not guilty?
Guilty.
My little reindeer.
My little reindeer.
Ms. Scott, you have pled guilty.
I will ask the CPS to prepare a pre-sentencing report.
- You will remain in custody until then. Reindeer.
All rise.
Reindeer.
Martha was sentenced to nine months in prison,
and a five-year restraining order was issued that same day.
And there, in that courtroom, was the last time I ever set eyes on her.
Oh. Keeley.
Hi.
Francis called.
He's concerned about you.
He says you've barely come out of your room in weeks.
Do you wanna come in?
Yeah.
What's all this?
Oh, it's, uh... It's Martha stuff.
- I thought she'd been sentenced. - She has. I'm trying to make sense of it.
- And how's that going? I'm getting closer.
Yeah, you'd hope so, looking at all this.
Yeah, it's crazy.
I have all her voicemails from when I downloaded them for the police.
I've split them into all these folders capturing her different emotions.
I've been doing it for weeks. There's a ton I haven't listened to yet.
It's funny, 'cause when you see them all splayed out like this,
you really do get a sense of just how mad she was.
Do you wanna sit down or something?
Yeah.
You look awful.
I feel awesome.
How's the, uh, comedy going?
Oh, I've given up.
Nothing like getting everything you want in life to realize it's not for you.
So, um,
why are you here?
I want you to move back to my mum's place. Sort yourself out a bit.
- I can't. I've signed a lease here. Nah, I'll pay for it.
Just move back.
I can't have you go on living like this.
Having gone through all of that.
That video, Donny, it really upset me.
Okay.
How does it feel?
Yeah, familiar.
I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything.
Thank you.
I forgot to say, I left a little something for you in the cupboard,
along with a couple of bits and bobs I found.
Oh, thanks.
Ah.
Hello.
Can I help with anything?
Yeah, I was, uh...
I was wondering if I could come in.
Sure.
Would you like a cup of tea?
Yeah, please.
So they were just high all the time?
Oh my God, I've never seen two people consume drugs like them.
Private school boys too.
I mean, the amount of times I caught people shagging in my bed was insane.
Where've you been?
Oh. You know. Here and there.
I'm sorry I disappeared.
No. No, I get it.
I saw your video, by the way.
Oh yeah?
I thought it was brave.
Really brave.
Oh.
Thank you.
You should come back and work with me.
Uh...
It won't be like last time.
Oh, I... I don't know. I'm sort of not really doing much anymore.
We're bringing Cotton Mouth back for a reboot.
Probably be terrible, but
we're staffing up at this very moment.
You'd be paid.
I'd love that.
God, and there was this other time in the bar
when you were serving in your tight whites, and I thought,
"Red. Red is your color."
And then the next day, you were wearing red.
I think you've got a great jawline, a lovely smile.
You know, I think you're, you know, very attractive.
You know, when you meet someone sometimes,
you just think they have it.
And you have it.
I dunno. Maybe it's your turn of phrase.
Fine! I fancy you, okay? I fancy you. There, I said it.
Oh God. I'm blushing like a teenage virgin here.
Hi there. - Hi. Yeah, I'll have a vodka Coke, please.
A... a double. Thanks.
That's the thing I've always wondered.
Why people meet, why people fall in love, that kind of thing.
And I suppose that brings me to the baby reindeer thing.
As I think you're probably wondering.
Basically, I had this wee cuddly toy when I was young.
Went with me everywhere.
Earliest memory I have, I think, was Christmastime.
This old photo of me, sitting with this paper hat on my head
and this baby reindeer beside me.
Anyway, this reindeer was this cuddly, fluffy thing.
It had big lips, huge eyes,
and the cutest wee bum.
I still have it to this day.
It was the only good thing about my childhood.
I'd hug it
when they fought.
And they fought a lot, you know?
Well, you are the spit of that reindeer.
The same nose.
Same eyes.
Same cute wee bum.
It means so much to me.
You...
You mean so much to me.
I've gotta go.
- Are you okay? - Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry.
Here you go.
Oh, thank you.
- It's, uh, ยฃ7.25. Oh yeah.
Oh fuck.
Sorry, man, I...
I think I've left my wallet at home.
Don't worry about it. It's on me.
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