Down Cemetery Road
Based on: Down Cemetery Road by Mick Herron
Stars: Emma Thompson, Ruth Wilson, Adeel Akhtar, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett, Tom Goodman-Hill, Darren Boyd, Tom Riley, Adam Godley, Sinead Matthews, Ken Nwosu, Fehinti Balogun, Aiysha Hart
Season 1 – Episode 1
Episode title: Almost True
Original air date: October 29, 2025
Plot: In Oxford, Ashmolean Museum conservationist Sarah Trafford and her banker husband Mark invite his obnoxious client Gerard Inchon, his wife Paula, and Sarah’s bohemian friend Wigwam and her partner Rufus to dinner. The neighbourhood is rocked by an explosion, killing Wigwam’s friend Maddie Singleton; Sarah notices a mysterious man watching as Maddie’s 5-year-old daughter Dinah is put in an ambulance. Authorities blame a gas main, but Sarah is suspicious after being prevented from visiting Dinah in hospital. She realises Dinah has been erased from press photos of the incident, while the police file has been “flagged” as confidential. Unbeknownst to Sarah, the explosion was part of a covert Ministry of Defence operation; high-ranking official ‘C’ berates his underling Hamza Malik for the unauthorised bombing, carried out by a troublesome operative. Realising she is being tailed by the watcher, Sarah visits married private detectives Zoë Boehm and Joe Silvermann. Joe agrees to investigate, and discovers Dinah is being transferred. Sarah races to the hospital, pulling the fire alarm before the watcher can reach Dinah. She returns to Joe’s office to find him dead by apparent suicide.
* * *
Down Cemetery Road – S01E01 – Almost True | Transcript
[breathes heavily]
Hmm.
[rattling]
[person] Careful. Be careful with that.
That’s it. Mind the bump.
Take it right through to the end.
Yeah. That’s it.
Ow! Fuck.
Ah, Sarah.
[sighs] We’re bringing all the Augustus Starcks down here for safekeeping.
Had a tipoff about a protest group.
Right. Of course.
Wondered when he’d get canceled.
[stammers] He hasn’t been canceled. [stammers] Well, his wife was only 15 when he married her. Just, you know, saying.
He was hugely influential.
These are worth a fortune.
Come along, come along. This way.
Actually, you could put that one back on the wall.
[stammers]
[inhales sharply]
Yeah, Augustus Starck didn’t use cobalt blue, but his wife did.
That’s a Christina Starck. [sighs] Latterly, he claimed a lot of her work was his.
Store it.
[sighs]
[sighs]
[“Every Time the Sun Comes Up” playing]
Oh, shit.
♪ Pace mine for you ♪
♪ Hold my horses ♪
♪ Patience ♪
♪ Every time the sun comes up
I’m in trouble ♪
♪ Every time the sun comes up
I’m in trouble… ♪
[bike screeches]
[Sarah grunts]
[Sarah panting]
Are you okay?
Yeah.
What have you got there?
I saved it.
[Sarah] Huh.
[chuckles] Wow! Brave.
[chuckles] [chuckles]
[parent] There you are.
[sighs]
Sorry, she was just, um…
Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s fine.
You’ll be the death of me.
[parent] Come on.
[song continues]
♪ Even when the sun comes up
I’m in trouble ♪
♪ Even when the sun comes up
I’m in trouble ♪
Here you are.
Hey, Lenny.
Evening, Sarah.
[grunts]
[oven beeps]
Ow. [grunts] [sighs]
[song ends]
Hey.
Mmm.
Mmm.
[sighs] Smelling good.
What, me or the food?
All right.
You’re not going for matching wine glasses?
Well, I thought that random ones might be a useful talking point. You know?
“Oh, look. We bought this little tumbler on our travels from a man with a wanking marmoset.”
[laughs] Yeah.
Let’s just use the posh ones though.
This is the bank’s top client we’re talking about.
[oven beeping] Oh. Uh, can you do a salad dressing?
[phone chimes]
Sorry, hon, just quick work email.
Good day? Bad day?
Yeah, Keith Wang came in to talk to the fund management posse.
Mmm. The Wang man always delivers.
Okay. All right. All right.
Just get it all out of your system now.
There’s gonna be loads of investment talk tonight.
I really need you not to take the piss.
Gerard Inchon’s a big catch.
[sighs] Trust me, I’ll be chatting acid peels with the ex-model wife.
What time are Steve and Becca due?
Oh. Yeah, uh… Can’t come.
Babysitter bailed, but don’t worry, don’t worry.
Replacements are sorted.
[scoffs] Who have you invited instead?
[door closes]
[guest] Sorry we’re late.
Rufus just had to rush out and buy some vegan lube.
[laughs] Ah, hello, everyone.
[chuckles] Gerard, Paula. Wigwam and Rufus.
Wigwam? [chuckles] Hi.
AAnd, uh, Rufus.
[laughs] Hi. Oh, it’s lovely to meet you.
Marvelous.
Sounds like a 1960’s folk duo or a… or a pair of goldfish.
[laughs]
[Paula] Gerard.
No, no. I’m just… just joshing.
Uh, good-good-good to meet you.
Sorry…
[Sarah] Oh, no. Shit. [whimpers]
Oh, shit. Ah, ow.
[Wigwam, Gerard speaking indistinctly]
Oh, God. Oh, God. Fuck.
Wigwam and Rufus? Jesus Christ.
[sighs] Sorry. Everyone else was busy.
They’re sweet. It’ll be fine.
[Gerard laughs]
Oh, fuck.
Rufus has got his balls out.
What?
[Paula] Wow. Goodness.
And he can play the spoons.
[gasps] Okay. Can I get anybody a drink?
Oh, yes.
[Gerard] Finally.
Great veggie lasagne, Sare.
[Paula] Yeah, lovely.
[Gerard] Mmm.
Especially that hint of, um… [clicks tongue] What was it? Chernobyl? [laughs]
[Wigwam] Mmm.
I really love this salad bowl, Sarah.
Oh, thanks.
Yeah, I got it from a local artisan.
Yeah, lots of creative people live round here.
Why?
We’re an alternative community.
Yeah, I-I can see that.
Yeah.
So, Mark, when are you moving back to civilization?
Uh, well, this is near where I work, so… Yeah.
Oh, you work? Ah, let me guess.
Charity sector.
Environment. Ethical publishing.
Sarah’s an art conservationist.
[Paula] Oh, right.
I don’t like to boast…
Are you sure?
…but, um, I’ve, uh… [laughs] …got quite the impressive art collection myself.
Oh, well, the bank has just started a crypto art portfolio.
[Paula] Oh.
My dealer says to avoid it.
I think my kids’ art is just as good as the fancy stuff.
You know, our little Ziggy, he designed these.
Oh, you have children already?
[Gerard] Ah.
Yeah, yeah. Four.
Four? You starting a cult?
Well, they’re not Rufey’s, but we’re trying. [chuckles] What about Sarah? Any plans for children?
[Sarah clicks tongue]
Well, none that aren’t private, Gerard.
I mean, we do. We definitely…
We do want kids though. [laughs] Don’t we?
Sares, I think you’ll feel so different when it’s one of your own.
Yeah. So everyone says.
But what if they’re wrong? Hey?
[Gerard] Treat it like an investment.
You can get a good price for kids in some parts of the world.
[laughs]
[Mark laughs] I’m sorry, do you seriously think that adoption’s a business opportunity?
Well, it bloody well should be.
Adoption process round here’s gone mad.
Social justice warriors screwed the system.
More wine?
This part of town’s crawling with disenfranchised youths with daddy issues out for revenge.
Well, what’s your solution, Gerard?
What? Put all the kids in private orphanages run by creepy priests?
And if not, oh, there’ll be some massive urban revolt?
You may scoff, Sarah, but come the revolution, bloody good luck to you.
Least I’ll be armed and ready.
Have you got a gun?
Got a whole collection, love.
Oh, so you see yourself as some kind of suburban warlord?
Osama bin Businessman, that’s me. [laughs]
[explosion]
[Wigwam] Oh, God.
[sirens wailing]
My children. My children!
Have you seen my kids?
Has anybody seen my kids anywhere?
Oh, my God. Wait!
Wigs, Wigs. Who were they with?
Mummy!
[Rufus] There they are.
Oh, God. Ziggy! Odin!
Mummy!
[Wigwam crying] Oh, thank God!
[Ziggy] Mummy?
Yes, darling.
That’s Dinah’s house.
[sirens wailing]
[inhales sharply] Oh, please, God, no.
[breathing heavily] You go, babe. I’ll stay and help.
Yeah.
Come on. Quickly, darlings.
You look after your mum.
[Wigwam] Let’s get you safe. Come on.
[people clamoring]
[breathing heavily]
[Sarah] They found someone.
There’s a child.
Now, come on. Take this.
Let me talk to them.
[speaks indistinctly] Sure.
Thank you.
[Paula] Is she okay?
Little girl was saved by a wardrobe.
Plod said her bed fell straight through the floor.
Wardrobe fell on top of her. Doors open.
[Paula] The wardrobe?
[Mark] Seriously?
[Paula] Poor little girl.
Bloody miracle.
Firefighters think it’s a gas main.
[Paula] Jesus.
[Gerard groans]
[sighs]
Stop it, Mark.
All right, all right.
[scoffs]
[“Woman’s Touch” playing]
♪ The light has shone on you tonight ♪
♪ But I’ll go walking through
The darkened streets alone ♪
♪ And fall asleep with a smile ♪
♪ Saving my pennies
‘Cause the oracle told me so… ♪
[radio presenter]
…WhatsApp or leave us a voicemail. And for those of you just joining us, we return to our top story. The emergency services were called out last night to a house in South Oxford, the scene of a major domestic gas explosion. The extent of the damage is not yet certain, but a police spokesperson confirmed the house was occupied. There is a suspected fatality, but as yet, no further details have been released. Police have secured the area…
You thinking what I’m thinking?
Well, if you’re thinking, “What is my husband doing sat on his arse listening to shit local news reports while he could be out collecting debts for jobs he hasn’t been paid for?”
Then, yeah… [laughs] …I am, which is, uh, spooky.
Actually, what I was thinking was… this house explosion could be a bit of a cash cow.
In what way exactly?
Well, due diligence.
Maybe the gas company didn’t do it.
Maybe this case could go all the way to the top.
Well, maybe sort of all the way to the middle.
[inhales sharply] Bottom of the middle.
Middle of the bottom.
Joe.
No?
Anyway… [sighs] I might do a bit of sniffing around.
[sniffs] Oh, God.
When did you last sniff around these?
Oh. I…
Spring?
I haven’t had time to do the laundry.
I’ve been working on a divorce case.
Where do I sign?
For a client.
Is it another desperate damsel in search of a knight in shining cardie?
Maybe.
Okay, well… [clears throat] While you work out how her case could bring down the government, um, here are some actual invoices.
[clicks tongue] Ooh, traffic violation.
Background check. That was fun.
And, oh, thrilling. Insurance fraud.
Paid, paid, paid. In Earth pounds.
Letter to gas company RE: compensation claim.
What are you doing? We can’t afford a secretary to type that up.
I’ll type it up.
So why don’t you just… [stammers] …type it while you… What’s the point?
[stammers] Anyway, nobody’s used their Dictaphone since 1982, Joe.
No, you’re right.
They use their finger.
Ugh.
[groans]
The good news is that our latest tests suggest delayed deterioration.
The slightly less optimistic news is that without continued access to our case studies, we don’t yet have enough data to move into the next phase.
Hello. Hamza Malik, Intelligence and Threats.
Thank you.
Well, the Ministry of Defence can’t hurry medical science.
Can we, Dr. Wright?
Although in this instance, you’re going to have to.
[shredder beeps, whirs]
[whistling]
Afternoon. [whistling]
[worker] Afternoon.
[doctor] Thank you.
See you at the club.
[Wright] Absolutely.
[Hamza] Sir.
[sighs] Hello, sir.
Well, you’ve really bollocksed this one.
Haven’t you, Malik?
I don’t remember you receiving permission to start a war in Oxford.
Ah, the, uh, department was given carte blanche, sir.
Carte blanche?
Mmhmm.
Ah.
Hmm. Well, that does suggest pretty wide parameters, I’ll grant you.
Not wide enough to cover barely controlled explosions in densely populated university towns.
Who’d you have running this one?
Wile E. Coyote?
Well, our, uh… [chuckles] …our man on the spot is a…
A trigger-happy twat?
I assume the incendiary was his idea?
It was a field decision, sir.
Oh, is it a field decision, Malik?
Yeah.
Well, I would love a heads-up on what, uh, Wreck–
It fucking Ralph has planned for an encore.
[chuckles]
Small nuclear device in a crowded shopping center perhaps?
[chuckles] [chuckles] Don’t think so, sir.
[laughs] No.
You don’t think so? [chuckles] Well, that is very reassuring.
[Hamza groans]
You need to get down on your hands and knees, and mop up this piss fountain you’ve created before it becomes a piss geyser…
[groans] …the size of Old fucking Faithful.
[stammers] Yes, sir. Yes, sir.
Thank you, sir.
[shutter clicks]
[Rufus] Hey! Don’t go far.
Wig, so you said the people in the house were your friends?
Yeah.
They were.
This time yesterday we were all on the school run.
Dinah was running along with Ziggy.
I was just chatting to Maddie, and now she’s dead.
[shutter clicking continues]
Wait. Did she wear yellow wellies?
Maddie? No, no.
She was more of a chunky trainer’s type.
No, the little girl. Dinah.
Um… yeah, I think she did. Yeah. Why?
[sighs]
I think I saw them both yesterday.
Was Dinah’s hair sort of, like a…
Like a halo.
Yeah.
[exhales] Poor kid.
Where’s her dad?
Was he killed in the blast too?
Not her dad, no.
Maddie is a… was a widow.
[child] You look sad.
[Rufus] It’s all right.
Let’s get you to school.
I don’t think Dinah ever really knew her daddy.
[child] Is Mummy okay?
[Wigwam] God, I just really hope that she’s safe.
The kids are devastated.
[sniffles] Ziggy’s in Dinah’s class.
Look, he’s made her…
[stammers] He made her this card.
[Sarah] “To Dinah. Sorry your mummy did.”
[Wigwam] He means died.
Oh, right.
Yeah, no, we don’t correct spelling.
It’s undermining.
Hi, darlings.
You good?
Yeah.
Mummy, can we post it to Dinah?
I could try the hospital.
[stammers] You’ll be late for work, Sare.
No, it’s… you know, it’s on the way.
Sort of. [chuckles] Worth a go, yeah?
Thank you.
[Sarah] Yeah.
Thank you.
Okay. All right?
Hmm.
Okay. [chuckles]
[chuckles]
Hi.
Hi.
Um, I’m here for Dinah Singleton.
Yeah.
Hmm.
What’s your name?
It’s Sarah. Trafford.
Trafford.
Kim.
Yeah? Yes.
Is there any chance I could just quickly nip through to the ward and give this to Dinah?
Oh. [chuckles] Wait here.
Just take a seat.
Oh, okay.
[sighs]
[door opens]
[nurse] Is there a problem?
Uh, no, no. No problem.
Um, I’m just here to visit one of your patients.
Dinah Singleton.
Uh, you know, the girl from the, um… [whispers] …house explosion.
[stammers] That’s from your child?
Uh, no.
No, it’s from my friend’s little boy.
Uh, they took her off in an ambulance so we just assumed she must be here.
We’re not authorized to give out patient details.
Oh, so she-she is here? Is she okay?
I have no information.
Sorry, uh… [chuckles] Is that no information or she’s not here?
Or she is here but you just can’t give out details?
Sorry, who are you exactly?
[chuckles] Who are you exactly?
Uh…
I mean, are you in charge or is there someone else I can talk to?
I think you should go, madam.
What? I’m just trying to give her a fucking card.
Okay. It’s time to leave now, please.
You need to leave.
Okay.
God.
Yeah, it’s actually this way, the exit. [exhales]
[tense music playing]
Thank you.
[Owen] We just had someone inquiring about her.
Yes.
[Kim] Hi.
[sighs]
[electronic voice] Doors closing. Lift going down. Third floor. Doors opening. Doors closing.
[exhales sharply] Fu…
Lift going down.
What’s he doing here?
Doors opening. Shit.
Hi.
I thought you and Paula went back to the Cotswolds last night?
We didn’t.
Everything all right?
Now, isn’t that interesting?
I wouldn’t dream of prying into your business in case you were here for some sort of lady test.
Lady test?
I was simply asking if you’re okay.
Well, how kind. And I am.
Hmm.
You make that all by yourself?
Actually, Gerard, Wigwam’s little boy made it for Dinah Singleton.
Who? Doesn’t ring any bells.
After the blast we saw that child wrapped in a red blanket.
I thought she might be here, but I’ve just been stonewalled by pediatrics.
Yeah, well, I know a few bods on the board of trustees.
Oh, what a surprise.
And I’m sorry, but they can’t dish out info willy-nilly to every nosy neighbor.
I was just doing something nice for an orphaned child who survived an explosion.
Maybe you could ask your bods on the board if she’s all right.
And thank you for dinner.
Food was to die for.
Almost literally. [chuckles] Danny. Good to see you.
[Gerard, Danny speaking indistinctly]
Police are squared away and the inquest will bring down the curtain.
To be fair, it’s come out looking like an accident. [chuckles] And you can offer absolute assurance that the locals have been pacified?
Everything is tickety-boo…
[chuckles] …as the, uh, the old fart flannels in this building would say.
Yes.
Splendid.
So I don’t have to worry about social services sticking their vegan pasty-shoe in the door?
[laughing] That’s very good, sir.
Um, no, sir.
No. [chuckles] [chuckles] Or maybe a nosy neighbor woman hanging around the hospital?
I’ve just had a little chat with my contact.
Oh.
“Oh.”
There it is.
I’ll get eyes on.
Eyes on.
I’m not talking about sending in a twitcher, Malik.
You’ll shut this down, yes?
Total press whiteout.
I don’t want to read about this over my deviled eggs.
I’ll order a D-notice, sir.
Have it slapped across the whole thing before you can say…
Do fuck off.
Yes, sir.
Um, sir… what would you like us to do with the actual child, sir?
Move her, obviously.
But she’s not quite ready to come out yet.
What is she, a cake?
SMO wants to keep her under obs in the ICU.
Oh, do stop speaking in tongues, man.
We’re not the fucking SAS.
Smoke inhalation.
Ah, she’s basically fine.
It’s just…
She better be basically fine, Malik.
Because dead babies blown up in cackhanded covert operations run by psychopathic idiots get entire television series dedicated to their short, wasted lives.
So you will tell the chief medical officer to pull his finger out of his arsehole and sign her discharge summary with his shitty finger…
[groans] …if it speeds things up.
[groans] Yes, sir.
And keep the twisted fire-starter off the job.
Yes, sir.
[radio presenter] …was often a woman. On today’s show, we’ll be looking at the role of women in literature, and asking the question, “Was it just that a patriarchal” and often misogynist society made it impossible for women “to be open about their identities?” Or is there something about the creative impulse in general that makes anonymity synonymous with artistic freedom? Were women victims, or was it liberating for them to assume an alter ego, an identity? And is the current trend of authors working with androgynous monikers a sort of literary hoax? Or are they asking us to judge the words, and not apply preconceptions about identity? And talking of hoaxes, we’ll also be looking at what some women are calling the biggest hoax of all, the idea that women can have it all.
Oh. Fu…
Work, children, and the relationship.
[Sarah breathes heavily]
I’ll be interviewing a highly successful…
Come on.
[printer whirring]
[Sarah] What? So is there not like a family liaison officer or, I don’t know, just someone I can talk to about Dinah Singleton?
[officer sighs]
It’s a… a flagged file, madam.
What’s a flagged file?
I’ll take this one, Sergeant.
Wait. You were at the house blast talking to Gerard Inchon.
I talk to a lot of people.
Yeah, I want to get this to Dinah Singleton.
The girl from the house blast.
You know, the-the one that was saved by a wardrobe?
I can’t help you, I’m afraid.
There is nothing on the system.
Wait. How is that possible?
Okay, he said it was a flagged file.
What does that mean?
It means it’s off-limits to the likes of you.
Sorry?
Send my regards to your editor.
No. No, no, no. I’m… [sighs] I’m not a journalist.
I’m a normal person.
Normal person? Right.
Well, you sure as hell aren’t family.
Have you heard…
Well, no, because all her family are dead.
[sighs]
You heard any more on that burglary in the sports store?
Um, that’s it so far, sir.
Pillock.
Did get a couple of calls.
[sighs]
[gasps] Jesus.
[students laughing] Sorry.
[jazz music playing]
[detective] Fifty quid on snacks for your stupid games night.
[Joe] It’s hungry work.
[detective] Oh!
We just got the electricity bill through.
How are we gonna pay for that?
What? With crisps?
[Joe] I’ll find the money.
[detective] You’ve not even been paid for the last two weeks of work.
It’s called a job, Joe. Have you even asked her for the money she owes?
[Joe] Well, I agreed with her.
No win, no fee.
[detective] How could it be no win, no fee?
You’re not a lawyer.
[Joe] But she looked so sad.
I’ll renegotiate. I’ll write her a letter.
[groans] For fuck’s sake, Joe. Not again!
[Sarah gasps]
Well, well, well.
A customer. [clicks tongue] Or have you taken a wrong turn en route to the artisanal cheese shop?
Door was open.
Uh, I’m-I’m looking for, um…
Joseph Silvermann.
Let me guess. You’ve got a husband.
He’s got a secretary. Am I warm?
No. Are secretaries still a thing?
Okay, well, not a secretary.
Personal assistant, posh secretary.
You seem like the type who might have a handsy husband in the media.
What type is that?
Sort of, you know, doe-eyed and helpless.
Well, you seem like a bit of a cock.
[laughs]
[chuckles] I feel seen.
Hi. I’m Zoë Boehm.
Sarah Trafford.
Don’t smoke.
Neither do I.
I just, you know, I miss the paraphernalia.
Uh, well, I don’t really know why I came in. Um… I think I’ll just…
Uh, welcome to our humble detective agency.
Runaway teens, GPS tracking, credit checks, missing tortoises.
No job too small.
Right.
Well, not just…
I also, uh, find cats, cars.
Keys.
Missing people.
Oh, you do your own housework.
And you paint.
Enough with the private dick shit, Joe.
God.
He’s just trying to impress you, Sarah.
So, wait. What do you do, Zoë Boehm?
Same job as him but better.
Yeah, but your name’s not on the door.
No, ’cause I don’t go in for the Philip Marlowe cosplay thing.
We’re married.
Not really.
Right. Well, um, what, you don’t, like, work as a team?
Not if I can help it.
Don’t worry. Joe’s really good at helping female clients.
The more doe-eyed the better.
Which is good ’cause I am shit at it.
I don’t drink prosecco, I don’t bond emotionally, and I’ll-I’ll probably end up fucking the handsy husband.
Now that Cruella’s gone to hunt for puppies, who’s for a coffee?
And a Viennese whirl.
[exhales deeply]
So you went to St Magdala’s?
It’s my sister college.
Hmm.
I was at Oriel.
Are you any good at your job?
‘Cause your wife was pretty scathing.
Ah, it’s how she shares her affection.
[sighs] I won’t lie.
Philip Marlowe, I’m not.
[clicks tongue] But who is?
Well, no one. He’s fictional.
[clicks tongue] There is that.
Mmm.
Did I mention, uh, wandering husbands are a speciality?
Yeah. Especially if the wives are, what was it she said? “Doe-eyed”?
To be clear, I am not a sex pest, Ms. Trafford.
Obviously I realize saying “I’m not a sex pest” could be the classic double-bluff of a sex pest…
Maybe just stop saying sex pest.
[sighs] So, uh, a job takes roughly how long?
Well, you haven’t said what the job is.
Well…
I want to find somebody.
I can do that.
It’s actually quite difficult to go completely missing.
Online footprints, surveillance wherever you go.
You need to be an expert to fully disappear.
Okay. [sighs] Right, I’m looking for a fiveyearold girl.
Her name is Dinah Singleton.
And I think she’s been deliberately erased.
Erased?
Well, she’s been eradicated from the news coverage.
[Joe] The gas explosion…
Oh, and a nurse at the local hospital was furious…
Of course she’s furious.
She works for the NHS.
No. Furious when I asked him about her, like he was hiding something.
Oh. And there’s a dodgy businessman called Gerard Inchon, who I really do not trust.
Perhaps she’s been erased from public view, moved to a private facility by some press corporation who’ll pay for treatment, photograph her at leisure.
She’s five years old.
Oh.
And there’s been a police shutdown.
At the station they said the file on her had been flagged.
Whatever that means.
It means the file’s restricted.
What’s your connection to Dinah Singleton?
Is she a friend of your kids?
No, I don’t have kids.
[sighs] No, my friend knows her.
Well… her parents are dead.
She’s got no one.
What’s your connection to her, really?
Uh… I, uh… I saw her the day of the blast and she was…
The sort of child you’d like to have?
No, the sort of child I used to be.
[bell tolling]
Hi.
Hello, Sarah.
[phone ringing]
[chattering]
[phone buzzes]
[person] Here’s your update.
Sniffer’s not giving up.
She’s going off down rabbit holes like Alice in fucking Blunderland, and now she’s called in the Light Brigade.
[stammers] I am slightly struggling with your mixed metaphors, Amos, mate.
My boy in the field tells me the Trafford woman has hired some local private dick.
[sighs] Oh, shit the bed.
[grunts] Okay, let’s, uh, get the child out of there before the target tries to play the hero.
Let’s lock this thing down.
Sorry, was that a briefing? Because, with the greatest respect, Hamster, I’ll be handling this exactly the way I fucking well want.
[line disconnects]
[sighs]
Here. Take this and clear up downstairs.
All right.
I won’t be long.
Miss? All done. Do you wanna have a look?
[gasps]
You all right?
[gasps]
Don’t worry. It’s solid.
♪ Phrase how I feel ♪
♪ Have you ever heard two turtledoves ♪
♪ Bill and coo when they love… ♪
Well, thank you, Mum.
Twenty.
♪ When we kiss ♪
♪ And there’s a weepy ol’ willow ♪
♪ He really knows how to cry… ♪
What’s this?
I’m just pressing my trousers.
[Zoë] Don’t bother with personal grooming on my account.
I’ve grown accustomed to you crumpled.
[grunts] I’m going out for some drinks.
You don’t drink.
I enjoy the occasional gimlet.
[song continues]
You’ve decided against the traditional shower at home then?
Yeah. ‘Cause the traditional water’s been shut off.
I found a letter from the water board about nonpayment.
I thought I’d sorted and filed that?
Yeah, you had. Down the back of the sofa with all the rest of the unpaid bills.
Don’t use that on your face.
[sighs] [sighs] Come here, you little fucker.
[grunts]
[song continues]
You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve been balancing the books.
Oh, yeah? Great.
That mean you’ve given that Sarah Trafford woman the heaveho?
Or is that another no win, no fee situation?
[scoffs]
You look like Bambi after his mum got shot.
Seriously, I mean the incompetence I’m used to, but the lying, that is new.
Sorry, I just wanna look closely at one more area.
Well, I’m resisting asking if it’s up your own arse.
If it’s about that gas explosion, I assume that you’ve followed all the obvious lines of inquiry?
That’s why I’m going to the pub.
Get a download from the nurses.
What’s that gonna cost us?
Why can’t you just look for causes rather than chasing outcomes, Joseph?
[groans] When you call me Joseph, you sound just like my mum.
Well sometimes I feel like your mum.
Picking you up from the fuck up crèche.
[sighs]
[song continues]
Maybe you’ll get top intel down at the pub.
But maybe it might be worth checking out the big, exploded house marked “crime scene.”
That’s where I’d start. With the victims.
Victim. There’s only one.
Please don’t tell me you’ve started believing everything you read in the papers.
Can I ask where you’re going tonight?
You can ask.
Kiss goodbye?
[singer vocalizes]
[door opens]
[clicks tongue]
[door closes]
[sighs]
[vocalizing continues]
♪ There’s a weepy ol’ willow ♪
♪ He really knows how to cry ♪
♪ That’s how I’d cry in my pillow ♪
♪ If you should tell me
Farewell and goodbye ♪
[Mark] No. Just have a seat, please.
[Gerard] I’m busy.
[Mark] Trust me, it is a terrific opportunity.
[Gerard] I’m sorry, Trafford, but this is not a good time.
[Mark] Well, let me just look at the numbers and I can revise the pitch.
I can… I’ll speak to my team.
I think we’ve got…
Sarah. I just stopped by to grab my coat.
[Mark stammers] He left it here after the explosion.
How about we all… all have a glass of this rather good red?
Uh, I-I won’t, thanks. I’m driving.
But if-if I could just grab my overcoat?
Yeah.
And Paula’s scarf.
The study.
I moved everything after the blast.
[chuckles] Right, yeah. [chuckles] Yeah.
I, uh… Just one second. [chuckles] So, did you get any answers from your big important cronies at the hospital?
Or are you just gonna fob me off again?
The child’s fine.
They’ll keep her in the ICU a few more days.
ICU, why? What happened?
Smoke inhalation, I gather.
Once she gets the thumbs-up, they’ll transfer her into the care of the relevant services.
Okay.
Mystery solved, Miss Marple?
No, but if it’s all so simple and above board, why did the police say it was a flagged file?
You’ve been to the police?
Why don’t they just release a press statement and tell us she’s okay?
What are they hiding, Gerard?
They? Tell us?
What, you and your tinfoil hat friends?
[Sarah sighs]
Leave it to the professionals.
Focus on your own problems, shall we?
How’s it going with the coat hunt, Trafford?
I’ll give you a clue, it’s the expensive one.
[Mark laughs] Yeah. Won’t be a second!
Your husband needs help.
Okay, Gerard.
That’s not entirely what I meant, Sarah.
He’s out of his depth in shark-infested waters, and there are no rescue boats.
[Mark panting]
Very cool garms, Gerard.
Uh, you-you should intro… um, introduce me to your tailor.
[chuckles] It’s a… [stammers] Fuck.
Mark, are you okay?
[sighs] Mark.
I think Gerard’s going soft on the investment.
[sighs]
[engine revs]
[gasps] Shit. Paula’s scarf.
Oh. [groans] Gerard! Gerard! The scarf!
[patrons chattering]
[Kim] Excuse me.
Hello.
Excuse me. [sighs] Um, sorry.
I-I don’t mean to be sexist or heightist or anything-elseist…
[chuckles] …but, um, would you like me to order for you?
Yes. Vodka tonic, please.
Okay.
Uh, vodka tonic. Thanks.
Sure thing.
Great. [sighs] Ah.
What you lot do, working through cuts and pandemics and shortages, you all deserve medals.
Mmm.
Not just a few middleclass dogooders clapping and rattling Le Creuset pans.
[chuckles] In fact, may I buy you your drink?
Aw, thanks.
[chuckles] Guys! Everyone!
This geezer wants to buy us all a drink!
[medical staff cheering, laughing]
You do realize that my job allows you to do your job.
Okay. I’m just saying that if your work involves us having to be beg buddies with Gerard Inchon, then it’s not worth it.
[inhales deeply]
Mark…
[phone buzzing]
[whispers] Joe.
Uh, hospital staff confirm the little girl is there.
Yeah, and she’s in the ICU, but she’s okay, and I should mind my own business.
Yeah, Gerard Inchon told me…
[Joe chuckles]
…in his usual patronizing way.
Someone signed her discharge summary, told the nurse to pack the kid a bag.
No one knows where she’s going.
No one thinks she’s ready, but they’re moving her tonight.
Fuck, Joe. Okay.
[sighs]
[sighs]
[panting]
[tense music playing]
[Sarah panting]
[tense music continues]
[panting]
Sorry.
[mutters]
Hi.
[muttering, panting]
[sighs, pants]
Intensive Care? It’s urgent.
Okay. Just through the doors, up there, you’ll see the signs.
Oh, for God’s sake.
[groans]
[electronic voice] Doors opening. Doors closing.
[panting] Sorry.
[tense music continues]
It’s an emergency!
I need to get in there! Please!
I need to see Dinah Singleton.
No visitors.
You’ve gotta let me in.
Someone’s gonna take her!
Sorry.
Let me in!
[groans]
[panting]
[groans]
[alarm blaring]
[electronic voice] Attention, please.
We have a fire alarm.
[speaks indistinctly]
[staff member] Everybody out!
Everybody out!
[blaring continues]
For your own safety. Please. Come on.
Is Dinah Singleton in there?
Not now, madam. This is an emergency.
[people clamoring]
[Sarah] Dinah!
Dinah? Sorry.
[panting] Hey, hey, hey.
[blaring continues]
Let’s go.
Okay, Dinah.
Dinah. Wake up, darling.
Dinah!
Keep on moving, please.
Into the car park to the evacuation point, please.
[blaring continues]
[panting]
[sirens wailing]
[tires screeching]
[tense music continues]
[engine revs, tires screeching]
[shrieks, panting]
[tires screeching] Fuck.
[sighs] Fuck.
[engine revs]
Who do you work for, Gerard?
Where’s the child?
Sarah, stop. Stop.
[Sarah panting]
The child I care about is the baby we lost today.
That’s why I was here.
[panting continues]
[engine revs]
[tense music playing]
[tires screeching]
Joe? [groans] Oh, bugger.
You were right. They’ve taken her.
She’s gone. She’s gone.
[jazz music plays]
[music crescendos]
[inaudible]
[jazz music continues]
