Power: The Downfall of Huw Edwards (2026) Movie Script
'Good luck, everyone.'
OK. Huw.
In your own time.
A few moments ago,
Buckingham Palace
announced the death
of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.
Mm-hm. Yeah?
Oh, no, no, I wa...
I wanna meet you, Alex.
We're just back on shitty lockdown,
aren't we?
Piss off. I'm not.
I'm not a goody two-shoes. I'm not.
It's just...
I'm just saying, like...
'Tonight at ten...'
Yeah.
Uh-huh.
Didn't have any of this
lockdown bollocks with Spanish flu.
I'm not being funny, but
didn't that kill loads of people?
Only about 50 to 100 million.
Who were you talking to, cariad?
Er, j... Er, just someone
from college who fancies me.
We're gonna meet tomorrow.
What's her name?
Her name?
Mm.
Alex.
Well, don't forget to bring
that Alex a bone for her guide dog.
Oh, Mick!
You're so funny, Mick. I'm dead
Come on, you're gonna be late.
Thanks, love.
I'll see you in the morning.
Not if I see you first.
He doesn't mean anything by it.
Oh, you keep telling yourself
that, Mam.
Keep telling yourself that.
Look, I know
what you're thinking.
I don't look like my photos.
All right,
so I might have used a filter.
Oh, there's no filter that good.
All right!
Don't bite my head off, like.
At least I'm fucking legal.
You're, what, 15... 16?
Piss off, 16! I'm nearly 18.
You don't look it.
And you don't look like
Ryan Gosling.
You know what? I should probably
get going. Yeah, suit yourself.
But just so you know,
I'm not a loser.
Did I say that?
Nah, cos losers don't get
presents like this. Yeah?
Or these bad boys.
Mm. I'm buzzing for you.
And losers don't have famous people
giving 'em a load of cash.
So you're friends
with someone famous?
More like his porn dealer.
Look at your face!
Talk about Little Miss Innocent!
Famous?
How famous?
"On the telly every night" famous.
I ain't lying.
Prove it.
Mm-hm.
Anyway, I'm thinking
of getting into cycling,
picking up a new fitness regime.
- What do you reckon?
- May as well, yeah.
Hello.
Hi.
Hi, hi.
More of your groupies.
Maybe we should start
calling them "Huw-pies".
I don't have groupies,
or any deviation thereof.
Admirers, then,
including some in very high places.
Oh, don't believe
everything you hear, Angelica.
Does that include the rumour
you're in the seat
when old Queenie
pops her Jimmy Choos?
Hey, keep your voice down.
I don't think they heard you
in Manchester there!
Operation London Bridge
is the worst-kept secret in telly.
Nah. Nothing's been decided.
And truth be told,
I'm not everyone's first -
or even tenth - choice.
"Everyone" being...?
Certain individuals who think
that having depression means
you're just one bad day away
from going full Christine Chubbuck
and other certain individuals
who think that my accent
is a slippery slope
towards a Scouse -
or even, God forbid,
a Brummie voice of the nation.
Paranoid much?
It's not paranoia if everyone
really does hate you, is it?
Huh!
Thought you'd gone to bed.
Nah, just doing some college stuff.
How'd your date go?
Oh, erm...
I don't know.
She wasn't really my type.
Had a working brain cell, did she?
Argh!
Oh!
That's 60 seconds, Huw.
Thank you.
Now, to remember, everyone,
"Nation shall speak peace
unto nation."
And if you could make me look good
as well, then so much the better.
Just gonna...
What are you doing?
I wanna watch the news.
Why? It's a load of bollocks.
So why do you watch it, then?
Because I'm smart enough to know
it is a load of bollocks.
Oh, will you let him
watch the flippin' news?
Ah!
Get brainwashed.
Oh, you like
that Huw Edwards anyway.
Oh, yeah. He's lush, he is.
Yeah, he's all right.
Seems like a solid...
Oi! I thought you wanted
to watch the bloody news.
Oh.
'Good evening.
'Tonight at ten,
more people were made redundant
'in the three months
to October this year
'than at any comparable period.
'The hospitality industry
is especially badly affected.
'In the US, six weeks
after the election of Joe Biden...'
'I've got 12 vids...
if you want them.'
'Couldn't play the last batch,
but the others were amazing.'
'If you like them,
you'll love these.'
'The end
of the national silence
'and the beginning
of the funeral service.'
Oh, poor woman.
Standing there all by her lonesome.
Maybe she dropped one.
Oh, have some respect.
She's the bloody Queen.
Your Queen, not mine.
God, you're chopsy today.
It's still sad.
'..in his resting place
in the Royal Vault.'
But she's got a lovely big palace
and roast swan to cheer her up.
Oh, stop it!
'Her Majesty the Queen will be...'
You're quiet, love.
Makes a change.
Well, it's like you say.
It's dead sad.
Oh, not you an' all!
Why not hang a fucking Union Jack
out the front of the house
and be done?
'..Prince Edward
and their families.'
'How was your day?'
'Busy.'
'Yeah, I saw.
You were brill, by the way.'
'Flattery will get you everywhere.'
'Are you OK to go on video?'
What's the problem?
I'm just a bit down, that's all.
When I was watching the Queen
earlier, like, she looked so...
..erm, like, lonely
and, like, trapped.
"Like" trapped?
Sorry.
I guess that's how I feel sometimes.
Except I live in Butetown,
and there's no fucking roast swan.
If it's any consolation,
I grew up in Llangennech.
Oh, yeah? Huh. Never heard of it.
No, nobody has.
It's the arse end of nowhere.
Were you also into guys then?
That's ancient history.
So... that's a no?
Not exactly. Er, it was, erm...
Well, it was
a more complicated time, yeah.
Huh. And now?
And now I just try to remember
that there's a...
a bigger picture to consider.
Right. So you're not ashamed
or anything, no?
No, it's got nothing
to do with shame, Ryan.
The stakes are just higher for me
than they are for you, you know?
I tell you one thing
for a fact, though.
If I was your age now,
I wouldn't be hiding away.
Well, that's cos
you don't live in my estate.
Yeah, everyone around here
thinks that...
I don't know.
They think that...
homosexuals
are taking over the world.
Reckon they're even worse
than the English.
Mm. They remind me of my father,
may he rest in peace,
especially
when it comes to the Saeson.
What about gays?
Well, we never had
that conversation.
What I mean to say
is it never arose as a topic.
But what if it had?
Ah, I really don't know.
I think I was already
an embarrassment to him.
What?! He said you were
an embarrassment? There's no way.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Huw the academic failure,
that was me.
Oh, I'm really enjoying dredging
all this shit up, by the way
It's very fucking cathartic.
I just thought
we were having a moment.
Sorry.
I can tell you're angry.
I can see it.
No, I'm not angry.
But there have to be boundaries
between us, lines of demarcation.
Do you understand?
Yeah. Yeah, no, I...
Yeah, sorry, I understand.
So, erm...
What would you like
to talk about instead, Huw?
Nothing.
Why don't you
show me something instead?
Slowly.
Slowly, baby.
Slowly.
Oh! Oh.
'Don't you worry
about people saying stuff?'
What stuff?
'Gay stuff?'
No, I'm too important for that now.
'And if they found out about us?'
They won't.
'But what if?'
The media would eat me alive,
and my career would be destroyed.
'Shit.'
But that won't happen, baby.
As long as you always listen to me.
Oh, Ryan!
Back already?
Workshy little bugger.
Let me guess, puncture?
Or is the whole of Cardiff
on a hunger strike?
Did something to my leg.
And the other one's got
fucking bells on it.
Right, I'm gonna have a bath, OK?
Soak it off, like.
Not before me, you're bloody not.
Mam?
Don't look at her.
You start paying
a few bills round here,
then maybe you can have
first fucking dip.
Right, that shit's really starting
to do my head in now.
You've got three brand-new
pairs of trainers in your wardrobe.
Three.
100 a pop,
according to the internet.
Are you dealing?
What?
Drugs.
Ganja, cocaine, smack.
Oh, my God! You think
I'm a heroin dealer now, huh?
Don't you bloody laugh at me.
You've barely done
a day's work this month.
Whoa!
Look who's channelling Mick now.
I want the truth, Ryan, I mean it.
OK.
Well, if you must know, it's...
The trainers... they're fakes.
Fakes?
Yes, yes, they're fakes.
They're dupes. You know, knock-offs.
I just sell them on
as the real deal.
But isn't that illegal?
Only if you get caught.
I have raised you better than that.
Oh, here we go.
Excuse me!
While you are living under this
roof, you will respect my rules.
Then how about you respect
my privacy, then, Mam?
Like, fuck off.
I'm 18, I'm not a kid any more!
She thinks I'm selling fake gear.
Good. Keep it that way.
And maybe go easy
on the shopping sprees.
You're not fucking Imelda Marcos.
Who?
Don't worry.
It's a generational thing.
Ah. Well,
this place is doing my head in.
I need to get away for a few days.
Honestly,
it's like I can't breathe sometimes.
Where would you go?
Er... Haven't got a Scooby.
A Scooby?
A Scooby Doo, clue?
It's a generation thing.
No, but, seriously, all I know
is anywhere is better than here.
Oh, it sounds like
you just need a change of scenery.
Uh-huh. Try a life transplant.
Ah, the grass isn't always greener.
Yeah, but it might be
less fucking... naggy and nosy.
Any suggestions?
Leave it with me, baby.
Seriously?
Yeah.
A happy Ryan equals a happy Huw.
Ah!
Oh, it's amazing.
You know, I've only, like,
stayed in a hotel, like... "Like."
Oh.
Well, I've only stayed in a hotel
twice in my life,
and I've never even had my own room.
Mm!
Oh, it was dead funny
at reception, right?
I never actually thought that
you'd book it under your real name.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I should have told you that.
Yeah. Well, I ended up
saying you were my uncle.
I prefer Daddy,
if it's all the same.
Erm...
Well, anyway, let me, er...
let me show you the room.
So... Oh, look at this.
How classy is that?
Can you see that? Wow.
I never knew Cardiff
could look so beautiful.
Oh! And then, over here...
Mm. Yes, please!
Ryan's very own minibar.
Can you see those? Can you see?
And then let me show you
the bathroom. So...
Oh, before that, these slides here?
I'm definitely gonna pinch
those slides when I leave.
And here, the big reveal.
Do not get me started
on this bathroom. It's massive.
And, look, I've got, look,
six - yes, six - towels.
Coming! I'm just on a work call.
I've been called to supper.
Send me a vid instead.
OK, Mr Supper. Ah!
"You, darling,
come hither for your supper."
It's just a word.
Yeah, for rich people.
I mean, in our house,
we just have plain old tea.
Well, for your information,
my upbringing
wasn't exactly well-to-do.
Yeah, but look at you now.
You're... famous.
You know? Living the dream.
Oh, is that so?
Cos you know me so well
Whoa, why are you being like this?
I'm only messing around with you.
Let's get one thing straight.
Unlike you,
everything I have, I've earnt.
And that includes respect.
I weren't being disrespectful,
I was...
Huw...
Huw, please talk to me.
Or at least...
..tell me how I can
make it up to you.
Earn your keep
and know your fucking place.
Huh.
'Naughty pics and vids.
Unsure if you'd like.'
'Go on.'
'Young.'
'Go on.'
All right, pet!
Did someone say party?
Get off me, Sash!
Mm! We've drunk everything.
So? I'll just... order more.
Ooh! Flex!
Oh, can we get something
to eat as well? Uh-huh.
I am starved, me.
Yeah, you can have
whatever you want, Sash.
He's the one paying.
Oh, please. Please, please,
please, please tell me his name.
For the thousandth time,
I'm not allowed. Go on!
No, no, no, I'm not allowed.
That's the deal.
Whatevs. You're so jammy.
Go on. Have that.
Ta.
Hmm... I reckon a little
pick-me-up first, though.
Oh, and don't hate.
I know you think gak sucks.
Right, fuck it. Chuck us a bump.
Yeah, funny.
I'm not joking.
Come on!
All right, babe.
Mm-hm.
We thought we'd take this party
up a notch. Oh, yeah?
Ryan, meet Daz!
Hi.
You all right?
Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Great.
Chills. We got fucking chills!
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Fucking bastard!
Remembered
where you live, then? Yeah.
Can I borrow your phone, please?
Why, where's your phone?
I lost it, OK?
How?
Just give me your phone, will you?!
What happened?
'I got mugged.'
The guy, he took everything.
Seriously, he was massive.
All right,
so this Neanderthal has your phone
with all my fucking info and texts?
No, no, no, no. I delete everything
you send, everything,
just like you told me.
You'd better be telling the truth.
If this gets in the wrong hands,
I'm done. It's front page news.
Huw, chill!
Don't tell me to chill. I'm taking
all the fucking risks here.
You get to walk off into the sunset,
but me? I'm getting crucified.
Well, it's not gonna happen, is it?
'And for what?
'I mean, what even is this?'
It's one-way traffic.
That's what it is.
Well, that fucking changes today.
What? What are you saying?
I'm saying I'm sick and tired of
always giving and never receiving.
But I... I do stuff for you.
'You do the bare minimum, Ryan.
'And even then, it's like
you're doing me a favour.'
Then tell me what you want.
'I want more, Ryan.
'That's what I want. More.'
Hi.
Follow me.
- Hiya.
- Hi.
I think that man, I recognise him.
Yeah, I recognise him.
I'm sure I know that man.
Oh.
Go on.
'You have one new message.'
'I'm sorry.
I just couldn't, Huw, I-I froze.
'It's me, not you, I promise.
'Please, don't give up on me.'
How was that?
Barely adequate.
Then tell me how to improve.
Try getting in fucking shape,
for a start.
I'm in better condition
than you are.
OK, fine. I'll start going
to the gym again, I promise.
All right.
But do it for yourself, yes?
Not for me.
All right, now,
I'm going away, baby,
so I'll be off comms for a few days.
Is this all there is?
"All there is"?
Mm-hm.
Erm...
Between us.
If you want more,
fucking sort yourself out.
Where do I know that voice from?
Oh, Sash!
Hey, did you get the stuff?
Please.
Yeah, please.
Thank you. Ch...
Ah!
Not until I get
some fucking rent money.
One night, I told you.
That were two months ago.
Oh, and... whoever "Daddy" is,
he sounds like a right cock.
And get the fucking door.
Sasha, I'm getting
my fucking trainers.
Door's open. Fuck's sake!
Whoops!
Mick's gonna kill us.
No, relax. He's working up north
in the minute.
Look, it's no biggie.
I'll just... pay to get it fixed.
Slow down!
Oh, Sash!
Stop it! Stop worrying all the time.
You need to fucking slow down.
Oh, Jesus. No more.
Out.
Now!
That was a bit rude.
You disgust me.
Can't believe I slept all day.
I don't know who you are any more,
Ryan, I really don't.
And for you to bring that...
filth into my house.
Please.
Please don't give up on me.
Why not?
You've obviously
given up on yourself.
I'll do anything you ask.
I swear.
Then tell me the truth.
The truth?
About where
all your money comes from.
Tell me!
There's a...
There's a man.
Gives us presents and money, like.
Money for what?
Erm, no...
Stuff.
Different stuff.
What kind of stuff?
Ryan, what kind of stuff?
Mam...
you don't wanna know.
Are you say...
Are you saying you're gay?
It's not about that.
I mean...
Yeah.
Yeah.
But that's not why.
It's-It's more... complicated.
It's hard to understand.
Then make me understand.
Do I know him?
No.
No, not exactly.
Well, what's his name?
Mam, do we really
need to do this right now?
What are you doing?
You said you wanted to know
who he is, right?
But that's...
Yeah.
Oh! Erm...
We need to tell someone.
No.
Ryan, it's wrong.
The media would destroy him.
He's told me.
To control you, love.
No.
This is... It's what his kind do.
No, no. No, he means it.
He's got too much to lose.
I don't care!
Mam, please, please!
I couldn't live with myself
if he did something to himself.
I couldn't.
Mam, seriously, you've gotta...
..promise me.
I promise.
Come on, let's go back inside.
No. In a bit. You go.
It's not as bad as you think it is.
Huw says I'm important to him, Mam.
Says I'm special.
Oh!
Think heartbroken, but austere.
'Heartbroken, but austere.'
Alex Williams,
you're charged with
possessing and distributing
indecent images of children,
as well as possessing
prohibited images of children.
You do not have to say anything,
but it may harm your defence
if you do not mention
when questioned something...
Heartbroken... but austere.
'Austere.'
Heartbroken, but austere.
Huw.
In your own time.
A few moments ago,
Buckingham Palace announced
the death
of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.
'The Palace has just issued
this statement.
'It says that the Queen
died peacefully
'at Balmoral this afternoon.
'The King and the Queen Consort
will remain at Balmoral this evening
'and will return to London tomorrow.
'Within the past few minutes...'
Can't believe
she's proper gone, like.
'..of Her Majesty Queen...'
He really practised that look.
'To recap on the statement,
'the Queen died peacefully
at Balmoral this afternoon...' What?
Who?
Huw.
Huw who?
My sugar daddy.
"Never forget, Ryan. The seven Ps.
"Proper planning and preparation
prevents piss-poor performance."
Hang on. I'm sorry. What?!
He's your sugar daddy?!
That old fossil?
Seriously?
You gotta be joking.
Ry...
You're shitting me, right?
"King Charles,
give Huw Edwards a knighthood.
"What a consummate professional.
Calm, sombre..."
All right, stop, stop! Please stop.
Oh, and this one.
"Measured but powerful gravitas.
"Hit me like a hammer."
Oh, that word, "gravitas"!
Looks like you were right
to swerve Strictly after all.
All right, that's-that's enough.
Yeah, it's not good for my ego.
I'm sorry, Britain has spoken.
You are literally
THE voice of the nation.
Oh, I don't know about that.
I'm just doing my job.
"If you don't send me
"2,500 right now,
"me and my friends
"will show The Sun and The Mirror
"what you have been doing."
Ungrateful shit!
No, what the hell, Sash?!
No!
You can't send that.
Yes!
Stop being a pussy.
"Cos I have been speaking to
"other boys you have spoke to."
'Stop being a knob
and talk to me tomorrow...'
"..when you're sober."
You gonna let him speak to you
like that? No, give me that.
'When I'm sober?
'Do you want people thinking
you're a nonce?
'Do you want people thinking
you're a whore?
'Stop being a dick,
for fuck's sake.'
Huw!
Coming!
Don't back off now.
'1:30am, if it ain't in there,
'then these pictures
are going everywhere.'
'Ah, it's blackmail, you mean?
'Ten years in jail
for that, princess.'
'It's all here.'
'Talk to you tomorrow, Ryan.
You've disappointed me.'
'So you want people knowing
you like 17-year-old boys?'
'You're a blackmailer. OK?'
'So you're a what? A paedophile?'
Happy new year.
Happy?
Bit optimistic, in't you?
You can't let the boy
ruin your life.
That's not fair on either of us.
Look, I know
this is hard for you, love.
But it's not Ryan's fault.
Course not.
Never is.
Can we talk about something else?
No. We're having this out.
I know it's a fucking sickness
and everything, but...
no-one's making him
snort that shit up his nose.
It's not his bloody fault, OK?
He's being groomed.
What are you on about, "groomed"?
Groomed by who?
Even now, like,
I can't, erm...
I can't really
get my head around it.
Carys?
Groomed by who?
Huw Edwards.
From the news.
You're telling me Huw Edwards,
THE fucking Huw Edwards
off the telly,
is gay for Ryan?
I didn't say gay. Did I say gay?
And I know it sounds mad.
Don't be daft.
Nothing mad about that,
makes perfect fucking sense
Ryan told me.
Ryan's off his stalk.
No, Mick. And so are you
if you believe that bollocks.
I have seen text messages from him.
He showed me.
Are you even hearing yourself?
It's true.
What, cos your precious angel
says so? Well, why would he lie?
Because that's what druggies do.
They lie, they steal.
They fucking infect everything
and everyone around them.
I need you to believe me.
I'm going to bed.
Mick, please!
No, I'm sorry.
This is where I tap out.
What? "Sorry" doesn't make it right,
you know.
When you say the things that you
say, it hurts. It hurts me deeply.
It's not on purpose, honest.
It's just things have been...
Things have been a bit rough lately.
Oh, you think
that justifies your behaviour?
Didn't say that, did I?
Look, I know I've let you down.
No, you've let yourself down.
And you know why?
Because I'm wasting my potential.
I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.
Because I'm wasting my potential.
Yes, you are.
And do you know exactly why that is?
'Because I don't
listen to you enough.'
No. No, you don't.
'Now, how much does my little
blood-sucking vampire want today?
Mm, 200.
Hm? Is that all?
Cos obviously
I'm a fucking walking, talking ATM.
Sasha's gonna throw me out.
I'll be on the streets.
'I'll-I'll be off comms.'
You know what?
Switch your camera on.
Do we have to?
Yes.
Oh, Christ. I wish I hadn't asked.
OK, so, here's the deal.
I'll send you
yet more fucking money.
Oh. Thanks.
Thanks.
BUT I want to say this to you.
And, Ryan?
I want you to listen very clearly
and very carefully.
Oh, and try not to look like
a five-pound-a-suck
meth addict, please.
Well, is he gonna pay you,
or what?
Ryan?
What?
Is the prick sending money?
Er... Er, yeah.
So why... why the face?
You don't have to see him.
Yeah. I do.
What, cos he says so?
Fuck off.
I owe him, Sash.
I owe him for everything.
Is that what the old pervert's
been telling you?
He's not an old pervert, OK?
He's not.
It's just hard for him to have,
like, a normal relationship.
That's all it is.
Is that what you want?
I don't know.
What if I do?
Fuck me! Next you'll be telling me
you're in love.
Oh, my God. Ryan!
Love isn't being
shit-scared of someone.
Love isn't being
some on-demand phone sex doll.
Love isn't that fucked-up thing
in the mirror.
All right.
So, what is love, then, Sash?
What is love, Sash?
Come on, Miss Fucking
One Train Wreck After Another,
tell me, what is love?
Spill the tea.
Maybe I don't have a fucking clue.
But I do know one thing.
The bare minimum for love
is being able to say no to someone.
Huw doesn't do "no".
Well, then...
you'd best piss off
and not keep Daddy waiting.
Mick?
Mick!
I told you I wasn't off my head.
What are you on about?
See for yourself.
That's... It's him. It's...
Huw Edwards.
I don't get it.
How come you've seen this?
Ryan's forgotten to log out
of his Instagram on my phone again.
And you can read their messages?
Yeah, and he is in Cardiff.
Now. He's here.
They were meant to meet up.
See, this is what my Ryan
has been dealing with.
He's saying that he's going back
to the station.
He's going back to London.
When?
Now.
I've left messages on your Insta,
but I don't know
where the fuck you are.
'I'm rapidly losing patience, Ryan.
'You'd better have a cast-iron
reason for standing me up.'
Fuck him.
'The next train
to arrive at Platform 1
'is the Great Western Railway
service to London Paddington...'
Please tell me
you didn't give him a hiding.
I wish. I didn't even talk to him.
What, were you too late?
Went on the wrong poxy platform.
Oh, OK.
But I videoed him with my phone.
'That's something, at least.'
Oh, that's more than something.
That's evidence.
'Mick?
'Mick?'
Are you still there?
Mick?
Sorry, sir, I have no idea
what you're talking about.
I don't know how to be any clearer.
Huw fucking Edwards,
the famous fucking newsreader, yeah,
is funding my stepson's
fucking drug habit.
Please, watch your language.
I'll watch my fucking language
when you BBC pricks
get your nonces under control.
I have to ask you to leave.
I ain't going anywhere
before I make an official complaint.
There's a number for complaints.
May I suggest you use that?
May I suggest you fuck off?
Get your boss down here pronto!
Sir, you are being abusive
and threatening.
If you do not leave,
I'll be forced to call the police.
I just want him to stop giving Ryan
money. It's not fucking complicated.
What on earth
is going on there? Ah, fuck off!
The BBC want bank statements,
Instagram messages, screenshots.
I've already spent an hour
on the phone with these people.
I've told them what the problem is.
Fine.
Just give them the proof they need.
Nah.
Nah, they ain't getting anything.
I made a complaint, like they asked.
Either they take it seriously,
or they don't.
I'm not jumping through hoops
for them or anyone.
So we give up?
Do we bollocks.
We're gonna go to the papers.
You wanted to see me?
Yes. Follow me.
So, do you know what this is?
Yeah. Everyone does.
You've been after Huw Edwards
for a while.
Since 2018.
That is how long
I've been investigating this prick.
Mm, I've lost track
of the number of young men
who've contacted us about him.
And we still haven't published?
Why? Because it's not been
in the public's interest...
until now, hopefully.
Yesterday,
a Mick Granger reached out to us,
claiming he and his partner
have lodged an official complaint
about Huw Edwards with the BBC.
Turns out he's been grooming
their son since he was 17...
..and bankrolling his drug habit
in the process.
And you want me
to go and talk to them?
You did say you wanted something
a bit more challenging to do,
didn't you?
'And I want signed
affidavits as soon as possible.
'From here on,
we need to be legally watertight.'
Yep. I've got local solicitors
on standby.
Excellent.
Anything else?
You've got this, Scarlet.
So, no pressure, then
OK, then.
Hi. Ms Davies?
Who wants to know?
This wasn't my bloody idea.
I just wanna make that...
clear right now. Yeah.
Ah, thanks, Mick.
What have I missed?
Well, erm...
Carys was just...
..expressing her reservations.
This has to stop, love.
And not just for Ryan's sake.
OK.
Where do you want us to start?
So, you knew about the relationship
for a while...
It's not a relationship.
OK? Let's get that straight.
I apologise.
That man has used and abused my boy.
I understand.
Really?
Are you a mother?
No. Then I doubt
you can possibly understand.
Carys!
No, it's fine.
Well, let's be honest.
All you really give a toss about
is your big story. No offence.
None taken. Erm...
You're right. This is a big story.
In fact, it could be massive.
But - and, equally, no offence -
you're wrong to call it my story.
Cos it's your story, Carys.
It's Mick's.
And most importantly, it's Ryan's.
I just wanna be able to tell it.
Oh, I know I should have said
something sooner.
Ryan said that it would...
destroy Huw if I spoke about it.
And I know
I should have been stronger.
I should have been...
..shouting it from the rooftops,
but he just was so...
..genuinely terrified.
I'm sure that's the exact reaction
Huw was counting on.
But I still let my baby down.
Bollocks, have you.
You're as much of a victim in this
as Ryan is.
Mick's right.
What affects your child affects you.
That's what makes you a mum.
I just want him
to stay away from Ryan.
That's all.
I want my son back.
"I fucking love you, Ryan,
but you kill me."
Thank you.
Ryan would sometimes
borrow my mobile,
and I'd sometimes screenshot
the messages he'd forget to delete.
Cos he'd be off his head on crack
and every other fucking drug
you could mention.
Sorry, love. But it's true.
Anyway...
He doesn't know I have them.
Are there any more of these?
Yeah, loads.
And, of course,
we've got Mick's video.
What video?
This is surreal.
No, this is proof.
Scarlet, are you sure
the parents are on the level?
Oh, yeah, 100%.
What's your gut telling you
about them?
They feel totally helpless.
'Well, helpless and unheard.'
Oh, shit.
Babes, just ignore the wanker.
Fine.
Be his pussy lapdog.
Hiya. Look, I know I said
I'd send those pics.
'The fucking press
are sniffing around me!'
Your fucking family
have gone to the fucking Sun!
'How could you betray me like this?'
It... It wasn't me.
Don't lie to me! They've got copies
of all our text conversations.
They've got dates. They've even got
a video of me at Cardiff Station.
I didn't say anything, OK?
Oh, really? Well, Mummy Dearest
is claiming otherwise.
'According to her, you've been
quite the little sharer.'
Ah! I'm sorry.
Sorry?
Sorry?!
You've completely fucked me, Ryan!
It's got back
to my bosses at the BBC,
and they've suspended me.
They've taken everything.
Not everything.
'I told the country
that the Queen was dead.'
I told the whole world.
That means nothing to them,
nothing at all.
Oh!
You must hate me so much.
Not as much as I love you.
You mean that?
You trusted your mother,
albeit foolishly.
She let you down.
You're not to blame for that.
'Yeah, but I am to blame
for letting you down, Huw.'
I am to blame for betraying you.
'Oh, I shouldn't have said that.
That was wrong of me.'
Deep down, I know
you wouldn't intentionally hurt me.
'Oh, no. No, no fucking way,
I wouldn't.'
And I also know
that you're still loyal.
Yeah.
I'll always be loyal.
Thank you.
Well, we do have
a major problem now.
'OK. So, how can I help?'
I'm really glad you asked me that.
Better come in.
If you're expecting
an apology, you can go whistle.
Just... let him say his piece.
You said you have an offer.
Erm...
Huw.
He's really sad
that all this has happened.
Well, we didn't expect him
to be doing fucking cartwheels.
The Sun, they don't give
a fuck about me,
they don't give a fuck about you.
They only give a fuck
about the story.
OK? I mean, this is gonna be
a total shitshow.
And not just for Huw,
but for me, an' all.
Boo fucking hoo!
Mam.
What hurts him...
..it really hurts me.
Just...
..get to the point, Ryan.
We can still stop this.
Why the hell would we wanna do that?
Because... he-he could help you.
What, like he's helped you?
He has money.
Oh, my God.
He has money. Lots of it.
We are in this hellhole...
..because of his money.
Meaning he can shove it
up his fucking arse.
Tell Huw...
..we're not for sale.
Unlike you.
We'll call him
"a top BBC star" for now.
So he gets a free fucking pass?
Ben, I swear...
You read
what our grooming expert said.
Huw Edwards is a promiscuous
sexual predator.
You think I like this?
Treading on eggshells
instead of going scorched earth?
The boy's not a public figure.
We'll write nothing
that can possibly identify him.
We won't even disclose his sex.
A powerful, influential man
is sexually grooming
a vulnerable young person.
That's the story.
Well, out with it.
Ryan was 17
when they first met online.
17!
Yes. And now he's 20.
They'll just say
The Sun maliciously outed
a national treasure
with mental health issues.
My decision stands.
Well?
They're not naming him.
You what?
Scarlet reckons the media will
turn it into a whole... gay thing.
Gay thing?
He's a fucking nonce.
How is that not the story?
'The unnamed male
presenter has now been suspended.
'The BBC has been in contact
with police,
'who say no formal allegation
has been made so far.'
'You OK, baby?'
I'm OK.
I was just eating some food
before bed.
I'm feeling like ending it, baby.
I'm so fucking low,
it's beyond control.
Please don't, Huw.
Please.
I beg you.
I would never
be able to forgive myself.
I promise you...
..I'm fine.
Just continue living your life
and be happy
cos you haven't done anything wrong.
This is about you and me.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
Are you not gonna be named?
We might both be named
over the weekend.
"In light
of the recent reporting
"regarding the BBC presenter,
"I'm making this statement on behalf
of my husband, Huw Edwards,
"after what have been five extremely
difficult days for our family."
"I am doing this
primarily out of concern
"for his mental well-being
and to protect our children."
Well, what about my child?
What about Ryan?
"Huw is suffering
from serious mental health issues.
"As is well documented,
"he has been treated for
severe depression in recent years.
"The events of the last few days
have greatly worsened matters.
"He has suffered
another serious episode
"and is now receiving
inpatient hospital care."
"I would like to ask
that the privacy of my family
"and everyone else caught up in
these upsetting events is respected.
"Once well enough to do so,
"he intends to respond to the
stories that have been published.
"I know that Huw is deeply sorry
that so many colleagues
"have been impacted
by the recent media speculation.
"We hope this statement
will bring that to an end."
'Today,
the Met put out a statement.
'Detectives from the Met's
Specialist Crime Command
'have now concluded their assessment
'and have determined
there is no information to indicate
'that a criminal offence
has been committed.'
It's like...
..suddenly, we're the baddies
in all this.
'Everyone hates us.'
They might hate me more.
I'm sorry.
Why are you sorry?
For dragging you into all this.
'You're kidding, right?'
Carys, this is the most important
thing I have ever done.
'No regrets, right?'
No regrets.
Night, love.
Night, Carys.
Excuse me.
What happens to me now?
Huw?
Huw?
So, let's just clarify this.
The accused, that's you,
texted with the message,
"Naughty pics and vids.
Unsure if you'd like."
The reply came back, "Go on."
You messaged "Young",
and again the reply came back,
"Go on."
You then sent
a Category A moving image
of a male child
aged between seven and nine,
with the message
"Quite young-looking",
to which a Mr Edwards responded
that "it can be deceptive"
and asked, "Any more?"
Is that correct?
Yes.
And that was to Huw Edwards,
as in the newsreader?
Yes.
'P'nawn da, Cardiff.
'A weather update for you
'on this grey Wednesday,
the 8th of November.
'It's another damp and overcast
afternoon across the capital.
'If you're heading out,
you'll definitely want a brolly.
'Stick with us...'
'The headlines at one o'clock.
'The Senedd has voted
to support a Plaid Cymru motion
'calling for
an immediate ceasefire in Gaza,
'following a significant rebellion
within Welsh Labour ranks.
'11 Labour backbenchers
broke with their leader,
'First Minister Mark Drakeford...'
'Mr Drakeford
has maintained the position
'held by the UK Labour leader,
Sir Keir Starmer,
'advocating
for humanitarian pauses...'
Ah. Thanks, love.
Mr Huw Edwards,
can we come in?
Metropolitan Police.
We heard you pull up.
What's happened?
Indecent images
of young children?
Mm. 41 separate instances.
Jesus.
How young? The children, I mean.
I don't know exact details,
but given the charges...
..very young, probably.
He needs stringing up.
The police have only just now
announced his arrest?
Correct.
And they've got pictures
of Ryan as well? Erm...
Well, no.
Videos, then?
There's no indication
Ryan's involved.
Erm...
Then I, erm... I'm confused.
As far as we know,
there's no connection to Ryan.
So this has all been for nothing.
The... stress, the hate, the names.
You can't think like that.
That fucking nonce is getting
banged up. It's a done deal.
Tell her.
If found guilty, he should
definitely serve prison time.
He's out of Ryan's life.
That's what you wanted, love.
Mm-mm.
I wanted justice for Ryan.
I wanted that bastard
to pay for what he did to my boy.
'Our reporter is
at Westminster Magistrates' Court,
'where former BBC presenter
Huw Edwards has arrived.
'He's been charged with making
indecent images of children.'
'Yes, a dramatic return
'to the public eye here today
for Huw Edwards,
'though in circumstances
few could have imagined
'during his decades
as the face of the evening news.
'The former newsreader arrived here
'at Westminster Magistrates' Court
just moments ago,
'walking slowly
into a wall of cameras.'
Ah, I'd...
er, been managing, so to speak,
my interest in men since 1994,
and then, er, suddenly,
I was connecting with...
with all these men -
and women - on social media.
I was being told
that I was attractive, sexy.
I'd never experienced that before.
Back then at the BBC,
if you weren't Oxbridge,
you were considered an outsider,
some provincial hack.
And then, of course,
there was my Welsh accent.
Yes, I was sent certain images,
and, yes,
I may have even opened them,
but that's as far as it went.
Honestly, during that period,
I remember very little
about anything.
'Or anyone, for that matter.'
All right, butt?
Long time no see.
Hey, Sash.
Back to the old deliveries?
Yeah. In between college stuff.
Doing catering now.
Cool.
No, no, no. I'm good.
It's not my thing any more.
I'm glad.
Shit never agreed with you.
No.
So...
Huw fucking Edwards, right?
How insane is that?
Yeah.
Yeah, it's, er... it's a lot.
You so dodged a bullet there.
Sorry.
There's a lot of it about, though.
What do you mean?
Me and my mate Jax,
we were in court a while back.
Yeah, yeah,
I heard you got nicked.
No drama, just a bit of weed, like.
Anyway, same day,
this guy Jax knew from school,
Alex Williams,
he got a year suspended
for sicko kiddie stuff.
Alex Williams?
What does he look like?
Like he belongs
in a pervert Hogwarts or something.
Talk about a creepy fuck.
What?
Ryan, what is it?
I had a date with him once.
We sat right here.
He's the reason
why I started talking to Huw.
Jesus!
Yeah.
They were both...
..paedophiles, Sash.
Both of them.
And I never, ever knew.
All I wanted was some cash
to buy some trainers.
That's all, I swear.
That's all.
And finally tonight,
at Westminster
Magistrates' Court today,
Judge Paul Goldspring handed me
a six-month suspended sentence
for multiple counts of making
indecent images of children.
My conviction is based on statements
provided by convicted paedophile
Alex Williams
and the messages we shared
between December 2020
and August 2021.
During that period, I received
and viewed 41 images of children
ranging from Category A
to Category C,
one of whom was aged between
seven and nine years old.
So, what exactly
do these offence categories mean?
Category A depicts
penetrative sexual acts,
sexual activity with animals
or acts of sadism.
Category B covers
non-penetrative sexual acts,
and Category C
includes indecent images
not falling into Categories A or B,
such as those depicting children
in sexually suggestive poses
or with exposed body parts.
However, despite the seriousness
of my offences,
I was able to avoid imprisonment
and still remain at liberty.
And that's all from me.
OK. Huw.
In your own time.
A few moments ago,
Buckingham Palace
announced the death
of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.
Mm-hm. Yeah?
Oh, no, no, I wa...
I wanna meet you, Alex.
We're just back on shitty lockdown,
aren't we?
Piss off. I'm not.
I'm not a goody two-shoes. I'm not.
It's just...
I'm just saying, like...
'Tonight at ten...'
Yeah.
Uh-huh.
Didn't have any of this
lockdown bollocks with Spanish flu.
I'm not being funny, but
didn't that kill loads of people?
Only about 50 to 100 million.
Who were you talking to, cariad?
Er, j... Er, just someone
from college who fancies me.
We're gonna meet tomorrow.
What's her name?
Her name?
Mm.
Alex.
Well, don't forget to bring
that Alex a bone for her guide dog.
Oh, Mick!
You're so funny, Mick. I'm dead
Come on, you're gonna be late.
Thanks, love.
I'll see you in the morning.
Not if I see you first.
He doesn't mean anything by it.
Oh, you keep telling yourself
that, Mam.
Keep telling yourself that.
Look, I know
what you're thinking.
I don't look like my photos.
All right,
so I might have used a filter.
Oh, there's no filter that good.
All right!
Don't bite my head off, like.
At least I'm fucking legal.
You're, what, 15... 16?
Piss off, 16! I'm nearly 18.
You don't look it.
And you don't look like
Ryan Gosling.
You know what? I should probably
get going. Yeah, suit yourself.
But just so you know,
I'm not a loser.
Did I say that?
Nah, cos losers don't get
presents like this. Yeah?
Or these bad boys.
Mm. I'm buzzing for you.
And losers don't have famous people
giving 'em a load of cash.
So you're friends
with someone famous?
More like his porn dealer.
Look at your face!
Talk about Little Miss Innocent!
Famous?
How famous?
"On the telly every night" famous.
I ain't lying.
Prove it.
Mm-hm.
Anyway, I'm thinking
of getting into cycling,
picking up a new fitness regime.
- What do you reckon?
- May as well, yeah.
Hello.
Hi.
Hi, hi.
More of your groupies.
Maybe we should start
calling them "Huw-pies".
I don't have groupies,
or any deviation thereof.
Admirers, then,
including some in very high places.
Oh, don't believe
everything you hear, Angelica.
Does that include the rumour
you're in the seat
when old Queenie
pops her Jimmy Choos?
Hey, keep your voice down.
I don't think they heard you
in Manchester there!
Operation London Bridge
is the worst-kept secret in telly.
Nah. Nothing's been decided.
And truth be told,
I'm not everyone's first -
or even tenth - choice.
"Everyone" being...?
Certain individuals who think
that having depression means
you're just one bad day away
from going full Christine Chubbuck
and other certain individuals
who think that my accent
is a slippery slope
towards a Scouse -
or even, God forbid,
a Brummie voice of the nation.
Paranoid much?
It's not paranoia if everyone
really does hate you, is it?
Huh!
Thought you'd gone to bed.
Nah, just doing some college stuff.
How'd your date go?
Oh, erm...
I don't know.
She wasn't really my type.
Had a working brain cell, did she?
Argh!
Oh!
That's 60 seconds, Huw.
Thank you.
Now, to remember, everyone,
"Nation shall speak peace
unto nation."
And if you could make me look good
as well, then so much the better.
Just gonna...
What are you doing?
I wanna watch the news.
Why? It's a load of bollocks.
So why do you watch it, then?
Because I'm smart enough to know
it is a load of bollocks.
Oh, will you let him
watch the flippin' news?
Ah!
Get brainwashed.
Oh, you like
that Huw Edwards anyway.
Oh, yeah. He's lush, he is.
Yeah, he's all right.
Seems like a solid...
Oi! I thought you wanted
to watch the bloody news.
Oh.
'Good evening.
'Tonight at ten,
more people were made redundant
'in the three months
to October this year
'than at any comparable period.
'The hospitality industry
is especially badly affected.
'In the US, six weeks
after the election of Joe Biden...'
'I've got 12 vids...
if you want them.'
'Couldn't play the last batch,
but the others were amazing.'
'If you like them,
you'll love these.'
'The end
of the national silence
'and the beginning
of the funeral service.'
Oh, poor woman.
Standing there all by her lonesome.
Maybe she dropped one.
Oh, have some respect.
She's the bloody Queen.
Your Queen, not mine.
God, you're chopsy today.
It's still sad.
'..in his resting place
in the Royal Vault.'
But she's got a lovely big palace
and roast swan to cheer her up.
Oh, stop it!
'Her Majesty the Queen will be...'
You're quiet, love.
Makes a change.
Well, it's like you say.
It's dead sad.
Oh, not you an' all!
Why not hang a fucking Union Jack
out the front of the house
and be done?
'..Prince Edward
and their families.'
'How was your day?'
'Busy.'
'Yeah, I saw.
You were brill, by the way.'
'Flattery will get you everywhere.'
'Are you OK to go on video?'
What's the problem?
I'm just a bit down, that's all.
When I was watching the Queen
earlier, like, she looked so...
..erm, like, lonely
and, like, trapped.
"Like" trapped?
Sorry.
I guess that's how I feel sometimes.
Except I live in Butetown,
and there's no fucking roast swan.
If it's any consolation,
I grew up in Llangennech.
Oh, yeah? Huh. Never heard of it.
No, nobody has.
It's the arse end of nowhere.
Were you also into guys then?
That's ancient history.
So... that's a no?
Not exactly. Er, it was, erm...
Well, it was
a more complicated time, yeah.
Huh. And now?
And now I just try to remember
that there's a...
a bigger picture to consider.
Right. So you're not ashamed
or anything, no?
No, it's got nothing
to do with shame, Ryan.
The stakes are just higher for me
than they are for you, you know?
I tell you one thing
for a fact, though.
If I was your age now,
I wouldn't be hiding away.
Well, that's cos
you don't live in my estate.
Yeah, everyone around here
thinks that...
I don't know.
They think that...
homosexuals
are taking over the world.
Reckon they're even worse
than the English.
Mm. They remind me of my father,
may he rest in peace,
especially
when it comes to the Saeson.
What about gays?
Well, we never had
that conversation.
What I mean to say
is it never arose as a topic.
But what if it had?
Ah, I really don't know.
I think I was already
an embarrassment to him.
What?! He said you were
an embarrassment? There's no way.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Huw the academic failure,
that was me.
Oh, I'm really enjoying dredging
all this shit up, by the way
It's very fucking cathartic.
I just thought
we were having a moment.
Sorry.
I can tell you're angry.
I can see it.
No, I'm not angry.
But there have to be boundaries
between us, lines of demarcation.
Do you understand?
Yeah. Yeah, no, I...
Yeah, sorry, I understand.
So, erm...
What would you like
to talk about instead, Huw?
Nothing.
Why don't you
show me something instead?
Slowly.
Slowly, baby.
Slowly.
Oh! Oh.
'Don't you worry
about people saying stuff?'
What stuff?
'Gay stuff?'
No, I'm too important for that now.
'And if they found out about us?'
They won't.
'But what if?'
The media would eat me alive,
and my career would be destroyed.
'Shit.'
But that won't happen, baby.
As long as you always listen to me.
Oh, Ryan!
Back already?
Workshy little bugger.
Let me guess, puncture?
Or is the whole of Cardiff
on a hunger strike?
Did something to my leg.
And the other one's got
fucking bells on it.
Right, I'm gonna have a bath, OK?
Soak it off, like.
Not before me, you're bloody not.
Mam?
Don't look at her.
You start paying
a few bills round here,
then maybe you can have
first fucking dip.
Right, that shit's really starting
to do my head in now.
You've got three brand-new
pairs of trainers in your wardrobe.
Three.
100 a pop,
according to the internet.
Are you dealing?
What?
Drugs.
Ganja, cocaine, smack.
Oh, my God! You think
I'm a heroin dealer now, huh?
Don't you bloody laugh at me.
You've barely done
a day's work this month.
Whoa!
Look who's channelling Mick now.
I want the truth, Ryan, I mean it.
OK.
Well, if you must know, it's...
The trainers... they're fakes.
Fakes?
Yes, yes, they're fakes.
They're dupes. You know, knock-offs.
I just sell them on
as the real deal.
But isn't that illegal?
Only if you get caught.
I have raised you better than that.
Oh, here we go.
Excuse me!
While you are living under this
roof, you will respect my rules.
Then how about you respect
my privacy, then, Mam?
Like, fuck off.
I'm 18, I'm not a kid any more!
She thinks I'm selling fake gear.
Good. Keep it that way.
And maybe go easy
on the shopping sprees.
You're not fucking Imelda Marcos.
Who?
Don't worry.
It's a generational thing.
Ah. Well,
this place is doing my head in.
I need to get away for a few days.
Honestly,
it's like I can't breathe sometimes.
Where would you go?
Er... Haven't got a Scooby.
A Scooby?
A Scooby Doo, clue?
It's a generation thing.
No, but, seriously, all I know
is anywhere is better than here.
Oh, it sounds like
you just need a change of scenery.
Uh-huh. Try a life transplant.
Ah, the grass isn't always greener.
Yeah, but it might be
less fucking... naggy and nosy.
Any suggestions?
Leave it with me, baby.
Seriously?
Yeah.
A happy Ryan equals a happy Huw.
Ah!
Oh, it's amazing.
You know, I've only, like,
stayed in a hotel, like... "Like."
Oh.
Well, I've only stayed in a hotel
twice in my life,
and I've never even had my own room.
Mm!
Oh, it was dead funny
at reception, right?
I never actually thought that
you'd book it under your real name.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I should have told you that.
Yeah. Well, I ended up
saying you were my uncle.
I prefer Daddy,
if it's all the same.
Erm...
Well, anyway, let me, er...
let me show you the room.
So... Oh, look at this.
How classy is that?
Can you see that? Wow.
I never knew Cardiff
could look so beautiful.
Oh! And then, over here...
Mm. Yes, please!
Ryan's very own minibar.
Can you see those? Can you see?
And then let me show you
the bathroom. So...
Oh, before that, these slides here?
I'm definitely gonna pinch
those slides when I leave.
And here, the big reveal.
Do not get me started
on this bathroom. It's massive.
And, look, I've got, look,
six - yes, six - towels.
Coming! I'm just on a work call.
I've been called to supper.
Send me a vid instead.
OK, Mr Supper. Ah!
"You, darling,
come hither for your supper."
It's just a word.
Yeah, for rich people.
I mean, in our house,
we just have plain old tea.
Well, for your information,
my upbringing
wasn't exactly well-to-do.
Yeah, but look at you now.
You're... famous.
You know? Living the dream.
Oh, is that so?
Cos you know me so well
Whoa, why are you being like this?
I'm only messing around with you.
Let's get one thing straight.
Unlike you,
everything I have, I've earnt.
And that includes respect.
I weren't being disrespectful,
I was...
Huw...
Huw, please talk to me.
Or at least...
..tell me how I can
make it up to you.
Earn your keep
and know your fucking place.
Huh.
'Naughty pics and vids.
Unsure if you'd like.'
'Go on.'
'Young.'
'Go on.'
All right, pet!
Did someone say party?
Get off me, Sash!
Mm! We've drunk everything.
So? I'll just... order more.
Ooh! Flex!
Oh, can we get something
to eat as well? Uh-huh.
I am starved, me.
Yeah, you can have
whatever you want, Sash.
He's the one paying.
Oh, please. Please, please,
please, please tell me his name.
For the thousandth time,
I'm not allowed. Go on!
No, no, no, I'm not allowed.
That's the deal.
Whatevs. You're so jammy.
Go on. Have that.
Ta.
Hmm... I reckon a little
pick-me-up first, though.
Oh, and don't hate.
I know you think gak sucks.
Right, fuck it. Chuck us a bump.
Yeah, funny.
I'm not joking.
Come on!
All right, babe.
Mm-hm.
We thought we'd take this party
up a notch. Oh, yeah?
Ryan, meet Daz!
Hi.
You all right?
Yeah, yeah. I'm good. Great.
Chills. We got fucking chills!
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Fucking bastard!
Remembered
where you live, then? Yeah.
Can I borrow your phone, please?
Why, where's your phone?
I lost it, OK?
How?
Just give me your phone, will you?!
What happened?
'I got mugged.'
The guy, he took everything.
Seriously, he was massive.
All right,
so this Neanderthal has your phone
with all my fucking info and texts?
No, no, no, no. I delete everything
you send, everything,
just like you told me.
You'd better be telling the truth.
If this gets in the wrong hands,
I'm done. It's front page news.
Huw, chill!
Don't tell me to chill. I'm taking
all the fucking risks here.
You get to walk off into the sunset,
but me? I'm getting crucified.
Well, it's not gonna happen, is it?
'And for what?
'I mean, what even is this?'
It's one-way traffic.
That's what it is.
Well, that fucking changes today.
What? What are you saying?
I'm saying I'm sick and tired of
always giving and never receiving.
But I... I do stuff for you.
'You do the bare minimum, Ryan.
'And even then, it's like
you're doing me a favour.'
Then tell me what you want.
'I want more, Ryan.
'That's what I want. More.'
Hi.
Follow me.
- Hiya.
- Hi.
I think that man, I recognise him.
Yeah, I recognise him.
I'm sure I know that man.
Oh.
Go on.
'You have one new message.'
'I'm sorry.
I just couldn't, Huw, I-I froze.
'It's me, not you, I promise.
'Please, don't give up on me.'
How was that?
Barely adequate.
Then tell me how to improve.
Try getting in fucking shape,
for a start.
I'm in better condition
than you are.
OK, fine. I'll start going
to the gym again, I promise.
All right.
But do it for yourself, yes?
Not for me.
All right, now,
I'm going away, baby,
so I'll be off comms for a few days.
Is this all there is?
"All there is"?
Mm-hm.
Erm...
Between us.
If you want more,
fucking sort yourself out.
Where do I know that voice from?
Oh, Sash!
Hey, did you get the stuff?
Please.
Yeah, please.
Thank you. Ch...
Ah!
Not until I get
some fucking rent money.
One night, I told you.
That were two months ago.
Oh, and... whoever "Daddy" is,
he sounds like a right cock.
And get the fucking door.
Sasha, I'm getting
my fucking trainers.
Door's open. Fuck's sake!
Whoops!
Mick's gonna kill us.
No, relax. He's working up north
in the minute.
Look, it's no biggie.
I'll just... pay to get it fixed.
Slow down!
Oh, Sash!
Stop it! Stop worrying all the time.
You need to fucking slow down.
Oh, Jesus. No more.
Out.
Now!
That was a bit rude.
You disgust me.
Can't believe I slept all day.
I don't know who you are any more,
Ryan, I really don't.
And for you to bring that...
filth into my house.
Please.
Please don't give up on me.
Why not?
You've obviously
given up on yourself.
I'll do anything you ask.
I swear.
Then tell me the truth.
The truth?
About where
all your money comes from.
Tell me!
There's a...
There's a man.
Gives us presents and money, like.
Money for what?
Erm, no...
Stuff.
Different stuff.
What kind of stuff?
Ryan, what kind of stuff?
Mam...
you don't wanna know.
Are you say...
Are you saying you're gay?
It's not about that.
I mean...
Yeah.
Yeah.
But that's not why.
It's-It's more... complicated.
It's hard to understand.
Then make me understand.
Do I know him?
No.
No, not exactly.
Well, what's his name?
Mam, do we really
need to do this right now?
What are you doing?
You said you wanted to know
who he is, right?
But that's...
Yeah.
Oh! Erm...
We need to tell someone.
No.
Ryan, it's wrong.
The media would destroy him.
He's told me.
To control you, love.
No.
This is... It's what his kind do.
No, no. No, he means it.
He's got too much to lose.
I don't care!
Mam, please, please!
I couldn't live with myself
if he did something to himself.
I couldn't.
Mam, seriously, you've gotta...
..promise me.
I promise.
Come on, let's go back inside.
No. In a bit. You go.
It's not as bad as you think it is.
Huw says I'm important to him, Mam.
Says I'm special.
Oh!
Think heartbroken, but austere.
'Heartbroken, but austere.'
Alex Williams,
you're charged with
possessing and distributing
indecent images of children,
as well as possessing
prohibited images of children.
You do not have to say anything,
but it may harm your defence
if you do not mention
when questioned something...
Heartbroken... but austere.
'Austere.'
Heartbroken, but austere.
Huw.
In your own time.
A few moments ago,
Buckingham Palace announced
the death
of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.
'The Palace has just issued
this statement.
'It says that the Queen
died peacefully
'at Balmoral this afternoon.
'The King and the Queen Consort
will remain at Balmoral this evening
'and will return to London tomorrow.
'Within the past few minutes...'
Can't believe
she's proper gone, like.
'..of Her Majesty Queen...'
He really practised that look.
'To recap on the statement,
'the Queen died peacefully
at Balmoral this afternoon...' What?
Who?
Huw.
Huw who?
My sugar daddy.
"Never forget, Ryan. The seven Ps.
"Proper planning and preparation
prevents piss-poor performance."
Hang on. I'm sorry. What?!
He's your sugar daddy?!
That old fossil?
Seriously?
You gotta be joking.
Ry...
You're shitting me, right?
"King Charles,
give Huw Edwards a knighthood.
"What a consummate professional.
Calm, sombre..."
All right, stop, stop! Please stop.
Oh, and this one.
"Measured but powerful gravitas.
"Hit me like a hammer."
Oh, that word, "gravitas"!
Looks like you were right
to swerve Strictly after all.
All right, that's-that's enough.
Yeah, it's not good for my ego.
I'm sorry, Britain has spoken.
You are literally
THE voice of the nation.
Oh, I don't know about that.
I'm just doing my job.
"If you don't send me
"2,500 right now,
"me and my friends
"will show The Sun and The Mirror
"what you have been doing."
Ungrateful shit!
No, what the hell, Sash?!
No!
You can't send that.
Yes!
Stop being a pussy.
"Cos I have been speaking to
"other boys you have spoke to."
'Stop being a knob
and talk to me tomorrow...'
"..when you're sober."
You gonna let him speak to you
like that? No, give me that.
'When I'm sober?
'Do you want people thinking
you're a nonce?
'Do you want people thinking
you're a whore?
'Stop being a dick,
for fuck's sake.'
Huw!
Coming!
Don't back off now.
'1:30am, if it ain't in there,
'then these pictures
are going everywhere.'
'Ah, it's blackmail, you mean?
'Ten years in jail
for that, princess.'
'It's all here.'
'Talk to you tomorrow, Ryan.
You've disappointed me.'
'So you want people knowing
you like 17-year-old boys?'
'You're a blackmailer. OK?'
'So you're a what? A paedophile?'
Happy new year.
Happy?
Bit optimistic, in't you?
You can't let the boy
ruin your life.
That's not fair on either of us.
Look, I know
this is hard for you, love.
But it's not Ryan's fault.
Course not.
Never is.
Can we talk about something else?
No. We're having this out.
I know it's a fucking sickness
and everything, but...
no-one's making him
snort that shit up his nose.
It's not his bloody fault, OK?
He's being groomed.
What are you on about, "groomed"?
Groomed by who?
Even now, like,
I can't, erm...
I can't really
get my head around it.
Carys?
Groomed by who?
Huw Edwards.
From the news.
You're telling me Huw Edwards,
THE fucking Huw Edwards
off the telly,
is gay for Ryan?
I didn't say gay. Did I say gay?
And I know it sounds mad.
Don't be daft.
Nothing mad about that,
makes perfect fucking sense
Ryan told me.
Ryan's off his stalk.
No, Mick. And so are you
if you believe that bollocks.
I have seen text messages from him.
He showed me.
Are you even hearing yourself?
It's true.
What, cos your precious angel
says so? Well, why would he lie?
Because that's what druggies do.
They lie, they steal.
They fucking infect everything
and everyone around them.
I need you to believe me.
I'm going to bed.
Mick, please!
No, I'm sorry.
This is where I tap out.
What? "Sorry" doesn't make it right,
you know.
When you say the things that you
say, it hurts. It hurts me deeply.
It's not on purpose, honest.
It's just things have been...
Things have been a bit rough lately.
Oh, you think
that justifies your behaviour?
Didn't say that, did I?
Look, I know I've let you down.
No, you've let yourself down.
And you know why?
Because I'm wasting my potential.
I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.
Because I'm wasting my potential.
Yes, you are.
And do you know exactly why that is?
'Because I don't
listen to you enough.'
No. No, you don't.
'Now, how much does my little
blood-sucking vampire want today?
Mm, 200.
Hm? Is that all?
Cos obviously
I'm a fucking walking, talking ATM.
Sasha's gonna throw me out.
I'll be on the streets.
'I'll-I'll be off comms.'
You know what?
Switch your camera on.
Do we have to?
Yes.
Oh, Christ. I wish I hadn't asked.
OK, so, here's the deal.
I'll send you
yet more fucking money.
Oh. Thanks.
Thanks.
BUT I want to say this to you.
And, Ryan?
I want you to listen very clearly
and very carefully.
Oh, and try not to look like
a five-pound-a-suck
meth addict, please.
Well, is he gonna pay you,
or what?
Ryan?
What?
Is the prick sending money?
Er... Er, yeah.
So why... why the face?
You don't have to see him.
Yeah. I do.
What, cos he says so?
Fuck off.
I owe him, Sash.
I owe him for everything.
Is that what the old pervert's
been telling you?
He's not an old pervert, OK?
He's not.
It's just hard for him to have,
like, a normal relationship.
That's all it is.
Is that what you want?
I don't know.
What if I do?
Fuck me! Next you'll be telling me
you're in love.
Oh, my God. Ryan!
Love isn't being
shit-scared of someone.
Love isn't being
some on-demand phone sex doll.
Love isn't that fucked-up thing
in the mirror.
All right.
So, what is love, then, Sash?
What is love, Sash?
Come on, Miss Fucking
One Train Wreck After Another,
tell me, what is love?
Spill the tea.
Maybe I don't have a fucking clue.
But I do know one thing.
The bare minimum for love
is being able to say no to someone.
Huw doesn't do "no".
Well, then...
you'd best piss off
and not keep Daddy waiting.
Mick?
Mick!
I told you I wasn't off my head.
What are you on about?
See for yourself.
That's... It's him. It's...
Huw Edwards.
I don't get it.
How come you've seen this?
Ryan's forgotten to log out
of his Instagram on my phone again.
And you can read their messages?
Yeah, and he is in Cardiff.
Now. He's here.
They were meant to meet up.
See, this is what my Ryan
has been dealing with.
He's saying that he's going back
to the station.
He's going back to London.
When?
Now.
I've left messages on your Insta,
but I don't know
where the fuck you are.
'I'm rapidly losing patience, Ryan.
'You'd better have a cast-iron
reason for standing me up.'
Fuck him.
'The next train
to arrive at Platform 1
'is the Great Western Railway
service to London Paddington...'
Please tell me
you didn't give him a hiding.
I wish. I didn't even talk to him.
What, were you too late?
Went on the wrong poxy platform.
Oh, OK.
But I videoed him with my phone.
'That's something, at least.'
Oh, that's more than something.
That's evidence.
'Mick?
'Mick?'
Are you still there?
Mick?
Sorry, sir, I have no idea
what you're talking about.
I don't know how to be any clearer.
Huw fucking Edwards,
the famous fucking newsreader, yeah,
is funding my stepson's
fucking drug habit.
Please, watch your language.
I'll watch my fucking language
when you BBC pricks
get your nonces under control.
I have to ask you to leave.
I ain't going anywhere
before I make an official complaint.
There's a number for complaints.
May I suggest you use that?
May I suggest you fuck off?
Get your boss down here pronto!
Sir, you are being abusive
and threatening.
If you do not leave,
I'll be forced to call the police.
I just want him to stop giving Ryan
money. It's not fucking complicated.
What on earth
is going on there? Ah, fuck off!
The BBC want bank statements,
Instagram messages, screenshots.
I've already spent an hour
on the phone with these people.
I've told them what the problem is.
Fine.
Just give them the proof they need.
Nah.
Nah, they ain't getting anything.
I made a complaint, like they asked.
Either they take it seriously,
or they don't.
I'm not jumping through hoops
for them or anyone.
So we give up?
Do we bollocks.
We're gonna go to the papers.
You wanted to see me?
Yes. Follow me.
So, do you know what this is?
Yeah. Everyone does.
You've been after Huw Edwards
for a while.
Since 2018.
That is how long
I've been investigating this prick.
Mm, I've lost track
of the number of young men
who've contacted us about him.
And we still haven't published?
Why? Because it's not been
in the public's interest...
until now, hopefully.
Yesterday,
a Mick Granger reached out to us,
claiming he and his partner
have lodged an official complaint
about Huw Edwards with the BBC.
Turns out he's been grooming
their son since he was 17...
..and bankrolling his drug habit
in the process.
And you want me
to go and talk to them?
You did say you wanted something
a bit more challenging to do,
didn't you?
'And I want signed
affidavits as soon as possible.
'From here on,
we need to be legally watertight.'
Yep. I've got local solicitors
on standby.
Excellent.
Anything else?
You've got this, Scarlet.
So, no pressure, then
OK, then.
Hi. Ms Davies?
Who wants to know?
This wasn't my bloody idea.
I just wanna make that...
clear right now. Yeah.
Ah, thanks, Mick.
What have I missed?
Well, erm...
Carys was just...
..expressing her reservations.
This has to stop, love.
And not just for Ryan's sake.
OK.
Where do you want us to start?
So, you knew about the relationship
for a while...
It's not a relationship.
OK? Let's get that straight.
I apologise.
That man has used and abused my boy.
I understand.
Really?
Are you a mother?
No. Then I doubt
you can possibly understand.
Carys!
No, it's fine.
Well, let's be honest.
All you really give a toss about
is your big story. No offence.
None taken. Erm...
You're right. This is a big story.
In fact, it could be massive.
But - and, equally, no offence -
you're wrong to call it my story.
Cos it's your story, Carys.
It's Mick's.
And most importantly, it's Ryan's.
I just wanna be able to tell it.
Oh, I know I should have said
something sooner.
Ryan said that it would...
destroy Huw if I spoke about it.
And I know
I should have been stronger.
I should have been...
..shouting it from the rooftops,
but he just was so...
..genuinely terrified.
I'm sure that's the exact reaction
Huw was counting on.
But I still let my baby down.
Bollocks, have you.
You're as much of a victim in this
as Ryan is.
Mick's right.
What affects your child affects you.
That's what makes you a mum.
I just want him
to stay away from Ryan.
That's all.
I want my son back.
"I fucking love you, Ryan,
but you kill me."
Thank you.
Ryan would sometimes
borrow my mobile,
and I'd sometimes screenshot
the messages he'd forget to delete.
Cos he'd be off his head on crack
and every other fucking drug
you could mention.
Sorry, love. But it's true.
Anyway...
He doesn't know I have them.
Are there any more of these?
Yeah, loads.
And, of course,
we've got Mick's video.
What video?
This is surreal.
No, this is proof.
Scarlet, are you sure
the parents are on the level?
Oh, yeah, 100%.
What's your gut telling you
about them?
They feel totally helpless.
'Well, helpless and unheard.'
Oh, shit.
Babes, just ignore the wanker.
Fine.
Be his pussy lapdog.
Hiya. Look, I know I said
I'd send those pics.
'The fucking press
are sniffing around me!'
Your fucking family
have gone to the fucking Sun!
'How could you betray me like this?'
It... It wasn't me.
Don't lie to me! They've got copies
of all our text conversations.
They've got dates. They've even got
a video of me at Cardiff Station.
I didn't say anything, OK?
Oh, really? Well, Mummy Dearest
is claiming otherwise.
'According to her, you've been
quite the little sharer.'
Ah! I'm sorry.
Sorry?
Sorry?!
You've completely fucked me, Ryan!
It's got back
to my bosses at the BBC,
and they've suspended me.
They've taken everything.
Not everything.
'I told the country
that the Queen was dead.'
I told the whole world.
That means nothing to them,
nothing at all.
Oh!
You must hate me so much.
Not as much as I love you.
You mean that?
You trusted your mother,
albeit foolishly.
She let you down.
You're not to blame for that.
'Yeah, but I am to blame
for letting you down, Huw.'
I am to blame for betraying you.
'Oh, I shouldn't have said that.
That was wrong of me.'
Deep down, I know
you wouldn't intentionally hurt me.
'Oh, no. No, no fucking way,
I wouldn't.'
And I also know
that you're still loyal.
Yeah.
I'll always be loyal.
Thank you.
Well, we do have
a major problem now.
'OK. So, how can I help?'
I'm really glad you asked me that.
Better come in.
If you're expecting
an apology, you can go whistle.
Just... let him say his piece.
You said you have an offer.
Erm...
Huw.
He's really sad
that all this has happened.
Well, we didn't expect him
to be doing fucking cartwheels.
The Sun, they don't give
a fuck about me,
they don't give a fuck about you.
They only give a fuck
about the story.
OK? I mean, this is gonna be
a total shitshow.
And not just for Huw,
but for me, an' all.
Boo fucking hoo!
Mam.
What hurts him...
..it really hurts me.
Just...
..get to the point, Ryan.
We can still stop this.
Why the hell would we wanna do that?
Because... he-he could help you.
What, like he's helped you?
He has money.
Oh, my God.
He has money. Lots of it.
We are in this hellhole...
..because of his money.
Meaning he can shove it
up his fucking arse.
Tell Huw...
..we're not for sale.
Unlike you.
We'll call him
"a top BBC star" for now.
So he gets a free fucking pass?
Ben, I swear...
You read
what our grooming expert said.
Huw Edwards is a promiscuous
sexual predator.
You think I like this?
Treading on eggshells
instead of going scorched earth?
The boy's not a public figure.
We'll write nothing
that can possibly identify him.
We won't even disclose his sex.
A powerful, influential man
is sexually grooming
a vulnerable young person.
That's the story.
Well, out with it.
Ryan was 17
when they first met online.
17!
Yes. And now he's 20.
They'll just say
The Sun maliciously outed
a national treasure
with mental health issues.
My decision stands.
Well?
They're not naming him.
You what?
Scarlet reckons the media will
turn it into a whole... gay thing.
Gay thing?
He's a fucking nonce.
How is that not the story?
'The unnamed male
presenter has now been suspended.
'The BBC has been in contact
with police,
'who say no formal allegation
has been made so far.'
'You OK, baby?'
I'm OK.
I was just eating some food
before bed.
I'm feeling like ending it, baby.
I'm so fucking low,
it's beyond control.
Please don't, Huw.
Please.
I beg you.
I would never
be able to forgive myself.
I promise you...
..I'm fine.
Just continue living your life
and be happy
cos you haven't done anything wrong.
This is about you and me.
Yes.
Yes, yes.
Are you not gonna be named?
We might both be named
over the weekend.
"In light
of the recent reporting
"regarding the BBC presenter,
"I'm making this statement on behalf
of my husband, Huw Edwards,
"after what have been five extremely
difficult days for our family."
"I am doing this
primarily out of concern
"for his mental well-being
and to protect our children."
Well, what about my child?
What about Ryan?
"Huw is suffering
from serious mental health issues.
"As is well documented,
"he has been treated for
severe depression in recent years.
"The events of the last few days
have greatly worsened matters.
"He has suffered
another serious episode
"and is now receiving
inpatient hospital care."
"I would like to ask
that the privacy of my family
"and everyone else caught up in
these upsetting events is respected.
"Once well enough to do so,
"he intends to respond to the
stories that have been published.
"I know that Huw is deeply sorry
that so many colleagues
"have been impacted
by the recent media speculation.
"We hope this statement
will bring that to an end."
'Today,
the Met put out a statement.
'Detectives from the Met's
Specialist Crime Command
'have now concluded their assessment
'and have determined
there is no information to indicate
'that a criminal offence
has been committed.'
It's like...
..suddenly, we're the baddies
in all this.
'Everyone hates us.'
They might hate me more.
I'm sorry.
Why are you sorry?
For dragging you into all this.
'You're kidding, right?'
Carys, this is the most important
thing I have ever done.
'No regrets, right?'
No regrets.
Night, love.
Night, Carys.
Excuse me.
What happens to me now?
Huw?
Huw?
So, let's just clarify this.
The accused, that's you,
texted with the message,
"Naughty pics and vids.
Unsure if you'd like."
The reply came back, "Go on."
You messaged "Young",
and again the reply came back,
"Go on."
You then sent
a Category A moving image
of a male child
aged between seven and nine,
with the message
"Quite young-looking",
to which a Mr Edwards responded
that "it can be deceptive"
and asked, "Any more?"
Is that correct?
Yes.
And that was to Huw Edwards,
as in the newsreader?
Yes.
'P'nawn da, Cardiff.
'A weather update for you
'on this grey Wednesday,
the 8th of November.
'It's another damp and overcast
afternoon across the capital.
'If you're heading out,
you'll definitely want a brolly.
'Stick with us...'
'The headlines at one o'clock.
'The Senedd has voted
to support a Plaid Cymru motion
'calling for
an immediate ceasefire in Gaza,
'following a significant rebellion
within Welsh Labour ranks.
'11 Labour backbenchers
broke with their leader,
'First Minister Mark Drakeford...'
'Mr Drakeford
has maintained the position
'held by the UK Labour leader,
Sir Keir Starmer,
'advocating
for humanitarian pauses...'
Ah. Thanks, love.
Mr Huw Edwards,
can we come in?
Metropolitan Police.
We heard you pull up.
What's happened?
Indecent images
of young children?
Mm. 41 separate instances.
Jesus.
How young? The children, I mean.
I don't know exact details,
but given the charges...
..very young, probably.
He needs stringing up.
The police have only just now
announced his arrest?
Correct.
And they've got pictures
of Ryan as well? Erm...
Well, no.
Videos, then?
There's no indication
Ryan's involved.
Erm...
Then I, erm... I'm confused.
As far as we know,
there's no connection to Ryan.
So this has all been for nothing.
The... stress, the hate, the names.
You can't think like that.
That fucking nonce is getting
banged up. It's a done deal.
Tell her.
If found guilty, he should
definitely serve prison time.
He's out of Ryan's life.
That's what you wanted, love.
Mm-mm.
I wanted justice for Ryan.
I wanted that bastard
to pay for what he did to my boy.
'Our reporter is
at Westminster Magistrates' Court,
'where former BBC presenter
Huw Edwards has arrived.
'He's been charged with making
indecent images of children.'
'Yes, a dramatic return
'to the public eye here today
for Huw Edwards,
'though in circumstances
few could have imagined
'during his decades
as the face of the evening news.
'The former newsreader arrived here
'at Westminster Magistrates' Court
just moments ago,
'walking slowly
into a wall of cameras.'
Ah, I'd...
er, been managing, so to speak,
my interest in men since 1994,
and then, er, suddenly,
I was connecting with...
with all these men -
and women - on social media.
I was being told
that I was attractive, sexy.
I'd never experienced that before.
Back then at the BBC,
if you weren't Oxbridge,
you were considered an outsider,
some provincial hack.
And then, of course,
there was my Welsh accent.
Yes, I was sent certain images,
and, yes,
I may have even opened them,
but that's as far as it went.
Honestly, during that period,
I remember very little
about anything.
'Or anyone, for that matter.'
All right, butt?
Long time no see.
Hey, Sash.
Back to the old deliveries?
Yeah. In between college stuff.
Doing catering now.
Cool.
No, no, no. I'm good.
It's not my thing any more.
I'm glad.
Shit never agreed with you.
No.
So...
Huw fucking Edwards, right?
How insane is that?
Yeah.
Yeah, it's, er... it's a lot.
You so dodged a bullet there.
Sorry.
There's a lot of it about, though.
What do you mean?
Me and my mate Jax,
we were in court a while back.
Yeah, yeah,
I heard you got nicked.
No drama, just a bit of weed, like.
Anyway, same day,
this guy Jax knew from school,
Alex Williams,
he got a year suspended
for sicko kiddie stuff.
Alex Williams?
What does he look like?
Like he belongs
in a pervert Hogwarts or something.
Talk about a creepy fuck.
What?
Ryan, what is it?
I had a date with him once.
We sat right here.
He's the reason
why I started talking to Huw.
Jesus!
Yeah.
They were both...
..paedophiles, Sash.
Both of them.
And I never, ever knew.
All I wanted was some cash
to buy some trainers.
That's all, I swear.
That's all.
And finally tonight,
at Westminster
Magistrates' Court today,
Judge Paul Goldspring handed me
a six-month suspended sentence
for multiple counts of making
indecent images of children.
My conviction is based on statements
provided by convicted paedophile
Alex Williams
and the messages we shared
between December 2020
and August 2021.
During that period, I received
and viewed 41 images of children
ranging from Category A
to Category C,
one of whom was aged between
seven and nine years old.
So, what exactly
do these offence categories mean?
Category A depicts
penetrative sexual acts,
sexual activity with animals
or acts of sadism.
Category B covers
non-penetrative sexual acts,
and Category C
includes indecent images
not falling into Categories A or B,
such as those depicting children
in sexually suggestive poses
or with exposed body parts.
However, despite the seriousness
of my offences,
I was able to avoid imprisonment
and still remain at liberty.
And that's all from me.