Sorry We Missed You (2019) Movie Script

MAN: I've done all sorts.
You name it, I've done it.
Mostly building work.
Ground work. Er... Drainage.
Digging out, marking out.
Concreting, roofing.
Flooring, paving, flagging.
Plumbing, joinery.
I've even dug graves. I've done it all.
So why'd you give it up?
FIRST MAN: Well, there's always someone
on your back, isn't there?
And after spending all that time
every winter on sites
freezing your balls off,
well... it just gets a bit much.
- What about the landscaping work?
- Yeah, I loved it. You know...
Out and about.
Different customers every day,
different houses, different jobs.
You know, I'm a bit of a grafter
and that as well.
It's just a shame the lads I was working
with weren't. A set of lazy bastards.
So, erm... Yeah, I'd rather work
on my own now and be my own boss.
- Have you ever been on the dole?
- No.
No, no, no. I've got my pride.
I'd, er... I'd rather starve first.
Music to my ears, Ricky.
Henry was right. You are a trooper.
Let's just get a few things straight
at the start, though, shall we?
You don't get hired here.
You come on board.
We like to call it on-boarding.
You don't work for us. You work with us.
You don't drive for us.
You perform services.
There's no employment contracts.
There's no performance targets.
You meet delivery standards.
There's no wages, but fees.
Is that clear?
- Yeah.
- Clear?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
It sounds all right, yeah. Good. Yeah.
No clocking on - you become available.
You sign up with us,
you become an owner driver franchisee.
Master of your own destiny, Ricky.
Sorts the fucking losers
from the warriors.
- You up for that?
- Yeah.
I've been waiting for
an opportunity like this for... ages.
Just one more thing
before we go ahead with the franchise.
You bringing your own van
or are you gonna hire with us?
I'll have a word with Henry
if that's all right.
Just let me know. Like everything
around here, Ricky, it's your choice.
(low conversation)
You've gotta think long-term, Ricky.
If there's too much mileage
or it's battered to hell
and you lose a day's work, then
you've got to pay for the replacement.
That's a 200-quid
kick in the balls straightaway.
That's why you've got to go for
something decent.
I went for one of these.
It's cos it's bigger, which means
I can get all the oversize parcels in.
Flexibility - a bonus.
But still small enough
that it doesn't affect your driving.
I've been doing 24 hours straight
in one of these.
Yeah, but it's 14 grand.
Nah, Abby will have kittens.
- We're still paying the loan off.
- Do the maths, right.
A van like that's gonna cost you what?
400 a month.
If you hire one from the company,
that's 65 quid a day. Every day.
You need to find yourself nigh on
a grand deposit for one of these vans.
No chance.
(keys jangle)
(footsteps on stairs)
Liza Jane, you should be in bed.
- I just couldn't sleep.
- Oh, I'm so sorry, darling.
Sorry, the tuck-ins took
a little bit longer than usual.
- Was it old Joe?
- Yeah, found him in the pub.
- Get to bed.
- Why was he there?
I'll tell you tomorrow, cos I'll try and
get home a bit earlier. I promise, OK?
- OK.
- Come on.
You read your book?
It's 416 a month.
Can you not get a company van?
They're 65 a day.
Which is two grand a month.
Throwing money away like the rent.
Yeah, but then you don't have the risks.
Yeah, but 25 years driving
without a scratch.
- Hm.
- Plus I'm guaranteed 155 quid a day.
Henry's doing 200 quid a day.
And I can be just as quick as him.
That's 1200 a week, not a month.
Yeah, but it'd be like
14 hours a day, six days a week.
I never see you. We never see each other.
Look... I know it's gonna be tough
at the start but...
But, I mean,
after 12 months under my belt...
...I can expand the franchise.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
Look, I think we need to take the leap.
Otherwise, we're gonna end up renting
for ever. We want our own place.
I don't wanna live somewhere
where we're told how long we can stay
or whether we need to move out.
We need to find a 1000 deposit,
though, for the van.
We're already up to our eyes in debt.
The only thing we've got is my car.
- I... I can't get rid of my car.
- (he sighs)
I can't sell it.
You know I need it for work.
- Just get the bus.
- I can't.
My clients, some of them live miles away.
I need to be there at a certain time.
You know this.
Abby, you're too soft.
Just go and do the mornings.
Do the lunches, get back here
in the afternoon for the kids.
- And I'll pick the slack up, Abby.
- I know you will.
But it's nothing to do
with being soft, it's my job.
Look, Abby, listen.
In two years' time we'll have enough money
together to get our own place.
We'll have the deposit for a mortgage.
Oh, at last. I was gonna send
a search party out for you.
- I've been out. Why?
- You're soaking.
Why haven't you got your coat on?
- What's all these letters on the table?
- We're just talking.
Your dad's gonna start his own business.
- Yeah, starting a franchise.
- Whoa.
Taking over McDonald's?
- No, you smartarse.
- No, he's gonna get a delivery van.
- What colour?
- White.
- (mobile ringtone)
- So you're gonna be a white van man?
- Yeah, if you like, yeah.
- (scoffs)
Yo, Harpoon.
Nowt much. What are you doing?
Yeah, yeah.
Two seconds, mate. Two seconds.
- Mam?
- Yeah?
- Where's the cereal?
- Right in front of your eyes.
(indistinct chatter)
- (beep)
- Come on, let's get these parcels off.
Come on.
(indistinct chatter)
Is that your personal issue?
I know it's your favourite.
Come on,
we've got time to make up. Let's go.
(low chatter)
- All right?
- Yeah, not bad.
- Morning.
- Morning.
- (beep)
- (chatter continues)
(overlapping beeps continue)
- All right?
- All right, Ricky?
- (beep)
- Yeah.
This is the heartbeat of the depot.
This is gonna be a scanner for you to use,
all right?
It's precious and very expensive.
You lose it, you pay for it.
You look after it, it'll look after you.
Once you scan a parcel into your van,
it's yours.
It's in the system.
We can track it every inch of its journey
from here to the doorstep.
This thing even plans your route for you.
- It's child's play.
- All right.
But get this into your head.
Precises: those are parcels that
have to be delivered at precise times.
You get a one-hour time slot
to get them done and you don't miss them.
How are we getting on?
You're doing great, all right?
Now, just you remember
you've got to be a bit quicker.
First in, last out. That's what it is.
Get the order sorted now, it'll
save you a nervous breakdown later on.
All right?
Now you've got to hit your ETAs.
That's your estimated time of arrival.
It's all on your gun, right?
- Right?
- Got any more questions?
No, no, no. No. It's fine. It's all right.
- I've got a question.
- What's that?
When are you gonna get
these fucking parcels out?
Hey. Less of your cheek, right?
- You were a donkey for the first month.
- I know, I know, I know.
Ignore him.
He couldn't kick shite along a gutter.
He's a sub-contractor driver,
works for Big Sam.
That's Sam's van.
Sam gets 170 per route every day.
So how much does he get for driving it?
- 70 quid.
- Fucking hell.
I'll tell you what, you do well today,
you'll get a better route.
Come on, you two.
You've had the Q and As.
Get that cardboard off that concrete.
Let's go!
One more thing. And this is
the most important thing of all.
- Yeah?
- You're gonna need this.
- What's that for?
- That's for pissing in.
- You're fucking winding me up.
- You'll see.
Come on, I'll give you a hand.
WOMAN: Hello?
- I've got a parcel for Walrus Energy.
- For who, sorry?
- Walrus Energy.
- Oh, that's not for us, I'm afraid.
- Sorry?
That's not for us.
Why... Don't give me a ticket. Come on.
It's your choice.
If you decide not to move on,
- then I've got no option other than...
- No. You can't do...
- You can't do that.
- Are you gonna move down?
- I'm going there!
- You're gonna have to go down.
I'm going there.
Why are you being so tight?
I've given you the opportunity to move.
Now if you don't move,
then you're gonna get a ticket, OK?
- Thank you.
- Fuck you.
(church bell)
(door closes)
Hi, Rosie. It's Abby.
How are you?
Rosie, where are you?
You upstairs, Rosie?
Ah, sweetheart, is it hide and seek?
Your hands are freezing.
- Has he gone yet?
- Who?
There's a strange man
going into my house.
He's frightening me. He's frightening me.
- He's going around.
- Oh, darling.
it's just me and you in the house.
- Are you sure?
- I'm... I promise you.
- It's just me and you in the house.
- Just me and you?
Come on.
How long have you been sat in here for?
Oh, quite a while, I think.
I was frightened.
- Oh, bless you.
- I was frightened. Strange men.
- There's nobody in here, apart from me.
- OK.
It's not a stranger, Rosie.
It's your new carer.
Does all your meds and your tuck-in.
You don't need to be scared.
(keypad beeps)
- Could I comb your hair, then?
- Oh, I haven't got time, Rosie.
I've got to get you to have your
dinner and have your tablets, OK?
Come on.
Have a bit more of your dinner.
- (clattering)
- Oh, Rosie!
- I've broke the plate.
- Oh, man!
- (sighs)
- I'm sorry.
It's all right. Don't worry. It happens.
Come on, I'm going to have to go
and get something to clear this all up.
(dog barking in distance)
(dog barking)
Got a parcel for you.
Oh, aye. That will be my dinner, mate.
Right. Well, it's, er... a bit heavy.
Do you want me to bring it in for you?
Oh, mate, would you?
That's kind, mate. Cheers.
- Thanks, mate.
- Yeah.
- What you eating, an elephant?
- You cheeky git, man.
I've been at my bloody Zumba,
that's what I've been doing.
(handbrake creaks)
(engine idling)
(gulls cry)
(horn beeps)
(horn blares)
- All right, mate? Parcel for you there.
- Oh, cheers.
Just give us a signature on that. Cheers.
- What's that?
- United, mate. Man United.
- Man United? Seriously?
- Yeah.
- Aye.
- Why, man? Why not support a local team?
Even Sunderland's better than that shite.
It is my local team. I'm from Manchester.
Bollocks, man. I've never seen
a Man U fan from Manchester.
- They're all from bloody London.
- Come on.
- Here you go.
- Ta.
It must have been
a long and upsetting day for you.
- What's that?
- When you think you've won the league.
Seconds to go. Man City hanging on.
Last kick of the game
Sergio Aguero pops up, wins the title.
- Takes it out of your hands.
- Yeah, yeah.
They win the title, you win fuck all.
Must have been torture for you.
It was fucking great.
I nearly pissed myself laughing.
- What a day that was. Brilliant.
- Yeah. Funny, innit?
- Aye.
- Not as funny as the time
that you lot were 12 points clear,
though, eh?
And you blew it.
Remember when Keegan went on telly
with his little rant
after Fergie got in his head?
"I'd love it.
I'd love it if we beat them."
- Aye.
- Yeah. And we come up here
and King Eric puts one past your lot.
One nil. And who won the league?
Us. Not fucking you. All right?
Ooh-aah, Cantona, pal.
I'll see you in a bit. Enjoy your parcel.
- Have a good day.
- Sunday October 20th, 1996.
- We beat youse five nowt!
- Fuck off!
And l fucking loved it. Loved it!
Fuck off, you wanker.
You've won fuck all!
RICKY: (chuckles) Dick.
- (door closes)
It's all ready, Robert.
Just the way you like it.
Thank you, Abby.
How are you getting on?
Ah, it's so sore, pet. So sore.
Just take your time.
We'll get you freshened up.
And put a clean pad on, all right?
I never thought... (sighs)
I never thought this would happen to me,
you know. Not in a million years.
- Well, we all get old.
- Aye.
- Hey, Abby?
- Mm-hm?
Did you hear about the dyslexic insomniac?
He stayed awake all night
wondering if there was a dog.
(low conversation)
(ringing tone)
Hi, Liza. Just a quick one.
Your pasta's in the fridge.
Heat it up in the microwave, OK?
Leave your, erm... project out
and I'll look at it when I come in.
Erm... 15 minutes on your computer,
that's it.
I want all your homework done tonight.
And get into bed for quarter to nine,
all right?
I'm not sure when I'll be in.
I'll be as quick as I can.
Your dad's gonna be in late, though.
But I'll see you later on, OK?
Right. Love you loads. Right, bye.
Seb, did you get my message?
I had a text from the school again.
You need to ring us.
I'm glad your... I'm glad
your dad's not getting these messages.
I need to know where you are.
Ring us now as soon as
you get this message. Bye.
(key in lock)
(musical message alert)
(camera shutter click)
- What's that meant to be?
SEB: It's a duck.
- What do youse think?
- It looks like a chicken to me.
- A chicken?
- It does. It looks like a chicken.
But it's not a chicken, though.
You know what I mean?
What's the purpose of it?
It's our logo. It's our, like, sign.
It's what we stand for, and it's what
people are gonna recognise us from.
- Do you know what I mean?
- Yeah, I like it, but I can do it better.
You can do better?
SEB: He's an idiot.
- Definitely.
It's a bit deep
just for a bit of graffiti.
Yeah, but, like, it means a lot to me,
you know what I mean?
That's Harpoon. I mean, he's bright,
but he can piss me off sometimes.
Why did you two come?
HARPOON: I told you
I was gonna do it better than you.
LIZA: Who's she?
- That's Roz. My close friend.
- Is it your girlfriend?
- No, no, no. We're just good friends.
That was a nice touch he added,
but obviously it's not my style, is it?
Yee! How about that?
So youse are gonna do that
every time youse do graffiti?
(door opens and closes)
(indistinct chatter)
(TV on in other room)
(door creaks softly)
(Ricky snores)
TV: The lads are in Paddy Whelan's,
which has a handy breathalyser
to measure just how drunk you're getting.
Perfect for seeing
who's the lightweight of the group.
The higher the number,
the more drunk you are.
Gary is no stranger
to coming to Eastern Europe...
(cups clinking)
- Have you seen the time?
- Just past half 11.
- Oh, God, we need to get to bed.
- (Ricky exhales)
Come and have a snuggle, cheeky chops.
(Ricky grunts)
- You were snoring.
- Hm.
It wasn't me, it was your mum.
- It was your dad.
- It was your mum.
(crockery and cutlery clinking)
- All right, bonny lad?
- How you doing?
- Watch the match?
- I did, yeah. Three-nil.
Good. Very good.
- Yeah, you did well.
- (clattering)
- You're late. Where's your van?
- It's parked outside.
Three times this morning I phoned you.
Three times. No answer.
Someone smacked into the mirror,
into my wing mirror.
Clean off. On the floor.
So why didn't you
bloody fix it last night?
It happened outside the house
first thing this morning.
What am I meant to do?
It's not my fault, is it?
Well, get a replacement driver.
Just give us two hours,
that's all I'm asking for.
What good's that to me? Waiting
two fucking hours. You know the rules.
You get down here first thing,
or you get a replacement.
Howay, man!
I've worked 14 days in a row!
Just give us a bit of slack.
Two hours! You never give us an inch.
Because you're always bloody moaning.
You're always on the phone
with some kind of feckin' excuse.
And you missed three precises
last week as well.
Aye, you know why.
You give us too many. You fucking know it!
Well, I can sort that out for you.
I'll give your route to somebody else.
Somebody who doesn't moan every two
minutes, who hits their fucking numbers.
Aye, aye. Just like Stevie.
Squeeze us out, eh?
Aye, same old story, man.
Oh, you couldn't sell a black cat
to a fucking witch.
- Drivers!
- (whispers): Fucking twat.
Yo, drivers!
Front and centre.
Come on, I haven't got all day.
Right, there's a new route going.
Busier route and a bit of a challenge.
But I need someone who is not gonna whinge
every two seconds like certain parties.
Who's up for it?
It's more money. More precises.
Anyone? Carol?
No, not me, mate.
Don't need the money.
Oh, our lass wouldn't be very happy, mate.
Ricky? You've been racing around without
any fuss. Do you want a better route?
- Take it.
- Cos he's fucking lost this route
regardless of what happens.
Yeah, all right, I'll do it.
That's my boy. Right.
You two, swap routes, swap details.
And, you, if you don't like it,
you can fucking walk right now.
Sort this shit out.
Show's over! Back to work!
- Let's go in the office, sort that out.
- Freddie, man.
Come on, I'm sorry, mate.
- What route you on?
- Fuck off, man.
- Don't be like that.
- Oi! I told you two
to sort your routes out!
- Right. I'm 30. What route are you on?
- Fuck off!
- You've got two seconds.
- What the fuck!
- Hey, man!
- (shouting)
- Freddie, man.
- Get him out! Get him out!
- (angry shouting)
FREDDIE: I'm fucking sick of this shit!
- I'm fucking sick of this!
- (overlapping voices)
- Get him out!
- All right, man!
- Come on, Freddie, move.
- Freddie.
- He's fucking tapped.
- He's doing it on purpose, man.
(overlapping chatter)
- Look at him, man, he's crazy.
- All right, man.
- Get him out of my depot!
- (overlapping chatter)
- All right.
- We're sorting it, man.
- Sorting it! I'll sort the fucker.
- (overlapping chatter)
Right, Ben, get up, breakfast is ready.
Please, leave me alone.
You've gotta get up, Ben. Come on.
What, so I can just stare
at these fuckin' walls again?
What have I told you about swearing?
I'm not paid to be sweared at.
- Come on, you've gotta get up.
- No, I'm not moving.
I'm sick of sitting in my fuckin' chair
all day doing nothing.
Look, I've got six other people
to go and see, man.
I've gotta get them up,
get their breakfast.
I haven't got time for this.
Yeah, six people,
but yet you choose to wake me up first.
- Oh.
- I'm fuckin' knackered, man.
Right, I'll have a look on me timetable,
- see what I can do.
- Yeah, you do that. Go on, yeah.
Seeing as you're so pleasant.
Yeah, sort me out
when all I have is nothing to do.
I've got a break in two hours.
Get yourself sorted,
have another little bit of sleep,
you might be in a better fettle
for when I return.
It's a good job I like you, isn't it?
I don't like you.
Yes, you do.
Come on, wake up.
- What do you want, man?
- Howay, school.
- Mum's already phoned.
- What you doing, man?
- Mum's already phoned.
- (tuts) Liza Jane, what you doing?
- Mum phoned to see if you're awake.
- I literally don't care.
Howay, Dad'll go mental
if you miss school again.
I literally do not care.
And what you doing, man?
- Come on.
- Stop it, then.
- (tuts) Just get up.
- Stop it, then.
Stop being so lazy!
- What, that's it?
- Is that it?
- Roz?
- Yeah.
Looks kind of small from here.
Shut up. Wait until you get closer.
DODGE: Is that it there?
ROZ: That's it.
(chatter continues)
(bag unzipped)
Are you mental, man?
High viz? They'll be on to us in no time.
Well, that's the whole point.
Just wait and see.
I... I divvent understand
what you're on about, man.
- Just wait, man. Just wait. Jesus.
- Shut up, Dodge.
(siren wails)
SEB: That's an awkward way
of getting up then, innit.
- Me hair's blowin'.
- Seb.
- Seb.
- Yeah?
Park authority.
- Ah, shit, man.
MAN: Yo!
What the hell
do you think you're doing up there?
You're taking the piss,
doing that in the middle of a school day.
- Get down.
- It is school, sir.
It's an outreach project with
The Open University and the police. OBK.
OB... What's all that about, like?
Out Back Krew. For disadvantaged kids
from under-privileged backgrounds.
With learning disabilities.
Is that a lass you got up there as well,
Hey, that's gender discrimination,
that is.
- You should know better, man.
- Never mind your gender discrimination.
If you lot are legit,
where's your supervisor?
- She's not a supervisor, she's a, um...
- Curator.
A curator. She's with Sergeant Johnson
down at the station.
I mean, I've got her number
just in case you want it.
Aye. Well, I'm not happy with you lot.
I'm gonna be checking up on you.
I'll be back.
- Excuse me, sir.
- What?
If you don't mind, could you go
and get me some red paint?
But don't go out of your way.
If you lot are taking the piss,
there'll be trouble.
And you can stick your red paint
where the sun don't shine. I'll be back.
(they chuckle)
ROZ: Red paint.
- Red paint.
A curator. Nah, you're a genius, you.
You defo planned that out.
I didn't, actually, but some pricks don't
see what's in front of them, do they...
- Aye, it was all right...
- Well done.
Right, so...
we need to get this done quickly
cos we haven't got
that much time left, so...
(low chatter)
(spray can rattles)
- Hello.
- Hi, mate.
Can you take this parcel
for Mr Campbell?
No, I'd rather not, mate.
He's a bastard.
Keeps on parking
in me fuckin' parking space.
But you'd be doing me a favour, mate,
I don't get paid till they get delivered.
Mate, he's a fuckin' wanker.
Right, but, well,
can you not just sign for it?
- (sighs) Give it here.
- Cheers, man.
Just there, please.
Can I have your last name?
I can't read it.
That's all you're gonna get, mate,
you know.
- Yeah, but I need your last name.
- Big Data.
- Big what?
- Big Data.
It's when... when people start hoovering up
all our personal information,
and putting it in that black box.
I tell you, I'll be getting brochures
for blow-up dolls next.
- You know what I mean?
- Blow-up dolls?
That's probably what this is.
I've been in his flat.
There's stuff all over the shop.
He's a proper little pervert.
Fucking hell.
You can tell that by the way
he parks his car. Now fuck off.
What the... Fucking hell...
Would I be able to do the last OBK?
It's gonna be me last one.
- What do you mean?
- I'm going to Blackpool.
I've got me ticket booked.
- Are you being serious?
- Yeah, I'm being serious.
(he sighs)
- Why do you have to go, man?
- It doesn't matter.
(spray can rattles)
- Just chuck it down when you get down.
- 'Scuse.
(church bells chiming)
(birds chirruping)
I love these photos, Mollie.
So many things going on in it.
MOLLIE: That's the Colliery Club
in the miners' strike, 1984,
where we had our free caff.
Do you know, we fed 500 a day.
(Abby mumbles)
That woman there, very shocked.
- That's me.
- It's not.
Do you not recognise us?
And this is Benny.
He was one of the union men.
He'd just come in to tell us
that there was another
two bus loads of pickets coming.
And all of them wanted feeding.
When he came in,
I went in the kitchen to tell them.
- God, if you'd heard the language.
- (laughs)
- Me mother included, mind.
- Yeah.
- But we did it.
- (both chuckle)
- Anyway, where's your photos?
- They're not as good as yours.
Get away. They're family photos.
You should be proud of them.
I've literally just grabbed them.
Hey, I can see that.
You still got the frames on some of them.
Let's have a look.
- That's little Seb when he was five.
- Oh, he's canny.
- And look at you. You're blooming.
- Six months pregnant with Liza.
Hey, is that your house?
Should have been our house,
but ten year ago
the Northern Rock crash happened.
- Oh, yeah.
- We had the mortgage, everything ready.
All gone through, and then Ricky
lost his job in the building trade.
Couldn't get anything else. He's just
gone from job to job, and we've rented.
Happened to a lot of people,
though, didn't it?
- Oh, thousands.
- But happier photo.
- Ah...
- There we are. Love's young dream.
- Is that you two?
- Mm-hm.
Met him at a rave in Morecambe.
We'd go down on buses.
He used to come up from Manchester
with his crappy little van.
And this is my boy.
But he's getting so big.
He's changing every day in front
of my eyes. That's when I see him.
Aye. Have you no family round
to help you out?
Me mam died three year ago.
And Ricky's family
are all down in Manchester, so...
- Eee...
- I need to run your bath.
- I'll get in trouble for this, you know.
- Never.
Yeah. Can't get friendly with the clients.
And I hate that word.
What time's your next appointment, like?
Well, I've got a two-hour break.
- Let's have a look.
- So I can chat.
- I hope they pay you, mind.
- Zero-hour contract.
I get paid for the visits.
- Well, what about your travelling time?
- I pay my own bus fare.
Eee, God...
Hey, I'm just looking at this.
7:30 in the mornings till nine at night?
What happened to
the eight-hour day?
- Have you got any water?
- I'm fine.
I don't even know where Blackpool is
to be honest with you.
Who are you gonna stay with, though?
Friend of a friend.
She works in a guest house cleaning.
She says I can stay there
until I get a job, so...
There's loads down there.
Madame Tussauds,
the fair, all the gift shops.
I mean, it's better there
than what it is here.
It probably is better than up here,
but why d'you have to go, man?
Those three girls, they jumped us again.
Pulled clumps out of me hair.
They're bullies for life unless you move.
But why would they do that to you?
I don't know.
I guess I'm a little different.
And me mum's new boyfriend,
he's a bully too.
If it's not inside the house, it's out.
- Have you at least got a sandwich?
- I'm not hungry.
- I mean, I can go to Greggs right now...
- I'm not hungry.
- Are you sure?
- I'll get something when I get off.
- I think this is your bus.
- Oh, yeah, it is.
That was quick.
- Have you got everything, yeah?
- Yeah.
- Look after yourself, yeah?
- I will. Always do.
- How have you afforded all them?
- We all chipped in.
- Oh, come on. Just tell the truth.
- I am.
Seb, tell the truth.
If I tell the truth,
Dad's gonna go bonkers.
Just tell the truth.
I sold my winter jacket.
The Gore-Tex jacket?
Seb, for fuck's sake.
Do you know how much it cost?
That cost me a fortune.
I can't get another one.
What you doing?
Have you been on the train tracks
and the roofs? Eh?
Spreading that shite everywhere?
Course it's shit, and of course
it's everywhere. It's advertising.
It's like all the shitty advertising
you see nowadays.
People trying to, like,
them trying to get people
to buy stuff that isn't in their league.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- Can we just talk? Instead of shouting.
Have you been in school today?
Oh, Seb.
How many days off
have you had in the last month?
Do you know, me and your mum
are gonna get dragged in?
They sent a letter
about it last month, Seb.
We're gonna get a fine, love.
- Just talk.
- I know, but, love...
I don't know what's got into you,
I really don't.
You're a smart kid, just like Liza.
You used to be in all the top sets.
What is going on?
Just give yourself some choices, mate.
- Seb.
- Mm-hm.
We've talked about this.
You could go to uni.
Go to uni. What, and be like
Harpoon's brother?
57 grand in debt.
And what, working in a call centre now,
getting smashed every weekend
just to forget his problems?
- Of course.
- (she sighs)
Yeah, but it don't have to be like that,
does it? There's good jobs out there.
Good jobs? What good jobs?
Well, there is if you just knuckle down.
Give yourself some options.
you're just gonna end up like...
- Well, I don't know...
- What, like you?
Oh, fucking nice!
- Seb.
- Do you really think I want that?
- Really?
- Yeah.
Well, yeah, of course I do, don't I?
I wanna be like you.
Yeah, going from shit job to shit job,
working 14 hours a day,
having to put up with
everyone else's shit.
Going from one shit job
to another shit job.
- You're just gonna end up a skivvy.
- A skivvy?
It's your choice to be a skivvy, isn't it?
A skivvy doesn't come to you,
you go to it.
I'm doing my best, Seb.
Maybe your best isn't good enough,
is it?
- No. It's not, is it?
- No.
I want it better for you.
I want it better for Liza.
D'you know what, fuck this.
I'm going to bed.
- Go on, then.
- Yeah, fuck off.
Fuck you.
We do want the best for you, you know.
He works so hard. I do.
Where have you gone?
Can you not even look at me?
I mean... I just can't.
I'm sorry, I've gotta go.
(sobs, sniffles)
(door slams)
Other way, Dad.
This way, this way, this way, this way.
Here, here.
- Here, scan it, scan it!
- (beep)
- Made it!
- Ah, yes!
- (beep)
- Have some of that.
(door opens)
- Hello.
- Hiya.
- Got a parcel for you, love. Cheers.
- Thank you.
- Can you sign, please?
- Yes. Are you helping your dad?
- Yeah.
- (bleeping)
- Thank you.
- Here, get yourself some sweets.
- Thank you.
- Thank you. Have a nice day.
- Bye.
- See you. Bye-bye.
- Ah, that's the third tip.
- Proper gold digger, you, aren't you?
- (chuckles)
- I never get any tips.
Yeah, that's cos you're not as cute as me.
- Oh, you think so, do you?
- (chuckles)
It can text, phone, photograph, scan,
sign, contact the customer.
- Anything else?
- Yeah, bleep.
Does loads of bloody bleeping.
I swear it bleeps if I'm out of the cab
for two minutes.
Is that so the customer
knows where you are?
Customer always knows where I am.
They track every parcel, don't they?
To the front door and the back door.
Even if you put one in the garden shed,
they know where it lands.
Who puts all the information in there?
Somebody has to think about it.
A robot or an... an app,
a computer program.
But who feeds the robot?
I don't know.
It's probably some specky geek, innit?
Who never goes to the toilet.
I mean, if they have time
to measure everything else,
they might as well
have time for the toilet.
You didn't inherit
them brains from me, did you?
You get the bell,
I'll get the parcel, love.
(exhales) Wargh.
(bell rings)
Well, it says leave it in the garden shed.
Fill that card in, love.
- (dog barking)
- Fucking hell!
Fuck off, you fucking bastard!
Get to fuck!
- (barking)
- Fucking twat.
- (dog growls)
- Fuck's sake.
There's a dog round there
with massive teeth.
I think it's took a chunk out of my arse.
Come on, hurry up with that card.
(dog barks)
You owe my dad
a fresh pair of boxers.
Are you having a laugh?
I've been there over an hour and a half
cleaning her up
because she had shit all over her hair,
under her nails.
It was on the walls, all over me.
I've... I'm covered in scratches off her.
So what do you think?
What am I supposed to do?
- Just leave her?
WOMAN: I know... I know she's difficult.
She's not a difficult, er... client.
She's, she's very vulnerable
and she needs more
than what she's getting, actually.
And I've told you this
three times already.
Nobody listens to us.
I'm just gonna give... make the call meself.
Well, listen. Just calm down.
Don't tell us to calm down!
Are you gonna pay us me extra hour?
Well, you know I cannae do that, Abby.
Yeah, but you still expect us
to clean up all the mess
in the short space of time that we get.
- That's how it is, isn't it?
- Well, the thing is,
you know that I can't pay you,
you know that.
Right. And don't bother
ringing her daughter.
- No point.
- Well, we're gonna have to.
There's no point in ringing her daughter,
she couldn't give a shit about her.
She couldn't give a shit.
All she wants to do is sell the house.
Right. Listen.
I've had two call-offs, Abby.
I want you to do Mrs Sproat tonight for a
tuck-in because she keeps asking for you.
Yes, I know. But tonight's my night
with my family and I've done extra today.
So, no, I'm not doing it. I'm going.
I'll speak to you soon. Bye.
Are you all right, love?
No, I'm doing me bloody best.
I don't have enough time.
I'm covered in scratches off
that poor old lady. She was frantic.
I've got one rule.
You... You treat them like your mam,
like, look after them.
You wouldn't leave your mam
in a state like that. Nobody would.
Here's the bus.
(doors hiss open)
- Are you getting on the bus, love?
- No, I'm just gonna kill some time here.
OK, love. Take care.
(birds chirruping)
- I've got an idea.
- What?
Why don't we get an Indian take-away
tonight, eh? Your mum's off.
- And pay for it with your tip money.
- (chuckles) No.
Can you do us a favour and ring Seb?
Ask him what he wants. And try
and persuade him to stay in if you can.
Dad, I wish youse
didn't have to fight so much.
Yeah, me too, love.
Thanks for the great day.
You're all right.
Can we do it again?
Yeah, course we can.
- (scanner beeps)
- There's the two-minute beep.
It can wait, eh?
- Thanks.
- Thank you.
Thank you.
- Dad?
- Yeah?
You're right.
This is actually really nice, you know.
- What's it called?
- Korma.
- Is it?
- Yeah, it's for all the softies, that.
- Really?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
- This is where it's at. Vindaloo.
- Is it? Is it, really?
Yeah, separates the men from the boys.
You've gotta be hard to take this stuff,
d'you know what I mean, son?
- Fucking hell.
- (laughter)
- Separates the men from the boys, huh?
ABBY: Get a drink, love.
- All right?
- (message alert)
- Excuse me. No phones at the table.
- Sorry.
What's the matter, love?
It's Mollie, one of my old ladies.
She's been at a wedding.
The taxi's took her home, and the
family thought the carer was coming.
- Nobody's turned up.
- Why can't you ring the family?
- Can't get hold of them.
- Is there no-one else on call?
No-one's answering.
She's been stuck for three hours.
She cannae get to the toilet or go to bed.
I'll have to go to her.
- See, this is how the bastards do it.
- It's not right that, though.
If I don't see to her, I won't sleep.
I'll get a taxi.
No, look. You'll not get a taxi
on a Saturday night at this time.
You'll be waiting for hours.
Look, Dad, I've got an idea, yeah.
How about we all just go in your van,
I mean, it might be a bit cramped,
but one of us will just double bunk.
I mean, it'll be a laugh
cos we'll get there faster.
We'll probably have, like,
a little sing-song.
I divvent know, up to you.
I mean, it sounds like a good idea, right?
I mean, is that OK with you, though?
- Erm...
- Is it?
- Yeah. Good.
ABBY: You sure?
- Yeah.
- Yeah, of course.
(song playing on van stereo)
(laughter from van)
(family singing along to rap song)
l tell you now my name,
my name is Young
But so you think it's your destiny
to get the best of me
But I suggest to be quiet, bro, don't
even try it from the east and west of me
Takin' it and never breakin' it
or even shakin' it
Groovin' it and always movin' it,
cos I'm not fakin' it
Go for it, go for it, go for it!
(Seb laughs)
(song continues)
(keys jangle, key in lock)
Mollie, what's going on?
- (click)
- Oh, Abby, am I pleased to see you.
But I'm sorry to have to call you out
on a Saturday night.
I don't mind at all.
How long have you been sat here?
Oh, that doesn't matter.
You're here now.
Oh, Mollie. You look beautiful, though.
Did you have a little drink
at the wedding?
I did. It was great.
But I came home, sat in this chair.
Nobody to help us to the toilet.
- So now I'm soaking wet.
- Right.
Let's get you a nice bath run, eh?
- That will be lovely. Thank you.
- Don't you worry.
Do you know what?
It's so humiliating. I feel so stupid.
I can't even get to the toilet on me own.
Right. Come on. Look at me.
And I want you to listen.
And don't ever forget this.
You do more for me
than you'll ever know. All right?
Well, I'm pleased
I can do something for somebody.
You really do.
They surprise you sometimes, don't they?
But he's been so happy tonight.
We've had a right good laugh, haven't we?
- Just his normal self.
I'm really worried
he's gonna get kicked out of school.
I try and talk to him all the time but...
...I just feel like I'm not here enough.
Three nights a week's not enough.
I need to be here with my kids.
- Oh, I know, love.
- I do.
Oh. (kisses)
(he sniffs)
- Have you got chest rub on?
- No.
I have to put it under my nose
in case there's a horrible smell...
- Oh, thanks.
- ...when I'm at work.
Oh, sorry.
You know, I never thought
it would be this difficult, Abby.
I know.
It just seems to me
that everything's out of whack.
- Mm-hm.
- You know what I mean?
I have horrible dreams, you know.
I'm, like, sinking into quicksand
and the kids are trying
to pull us out with a branch.
But it just seems like the more we work
and the more hours we do,
we just sink further and further
into this big hole.
I have it all the time.
Hey, come on. (kisses gently)
I just... I can't.
I'd cry for a week, honestly.
I'll put you on me to-do list
for tomorrow, though.
- Top of the list.
- Right.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
(mobile ringtone)
Hey, love.
Ricky, there's an emergency meeting
tonight at the school.
That's a bit short notice, innit?
It's been organised last week.
Seb's hid the letter.
Erm... the headmaster, the welfare officer
and his head of year want to see us.
- What's the rush?
- He's had a fight on Friday.
And the teacher's tried
to split it up and he's got hurt.
So it's really serious.
We both need to be there.
There's nothing I can do.
I can't get anyone to cover me.
I know, but he could get suspended.
- Ah, fucking hell. Come on, mate.
- (intercom buzzes)
- Suspended?
MAN: Who's that?
Mr Davis, I've got a package for you.
Can you have your photo ID ready, please?
It's your mobile phone.
You're fucking having a laugh.
Ricky, I'm really nervous.
The headmaster was so sharp.
- And I said he wasn't listening to us...
- Abby, I've told you, I'll do me best.
- I'm not going on my own. I need...
- Oh, for fuck's sake, Abby!
- Have you got your photo ID, mate?
- I couldn't find any.
- I need a passport or driving licence.
- Come on. Give us a break.
- I can't. I need your ID.
- Come on, I've paid for it. Give it here.
Look, I'm not bothered.
It's me job, in't it?
It's cost us 200 quid. I've waited
three days for it. Just give it here.
- I'm trying to be nice here.
- So am I!
- Go and get your fucking ID now.
- Oi, just give us the fucking phone!
Get the fuck off, you fucking dickhead!
Go and get your fucking ID now, or I'll
ram your parcel down your fucking throat!
- All right.
- Get it, you fucking dickhead!
Liza Jane, something's come up.
So Jessie's mam's gonna
take you to swimming, OK?
Your stuff's in your sports bag.
There's some pasta in the fridge
in the Tupperware.
Do not go on the computer before
you do your, er... homework, please.
Your permission slip for the trip's
in the envelope with the money.
It's on the side.
So get that and I'll see you later on.
Love you loads. Bye.
Hi, Eddy, it's Abby.
I've got your prescription.
I'm running 20 minutes late.
I'll not be long, OK?
Seb, did you get my text?
You really need to be at that meeting
tonight at the school, no excuses.
Ring me back.
Wrong address.
(conversation continues)
(low conversation)
Do you know,
I should work with Bill Gates.
Er, what's the dance
with the new scanners?
- (scoffs) You're hilarious.
- Aye. Aye, not long, aye.
Right, that's me done now.
Thank you very much.
- I shall see youse next week. Bye-bye.
- Cheers.
- There you go.
- Everything OK?
- Yeah, great.
- Any problems?
No, nothing. It's fine.
Have you got two minutes?
I need a quick word.
I'm in a bit of a rush
to be honest with you.
Aren't we all?
If you can just wait over there.
I'll see to these two lads
and I'll be with you.
- All right.
- Cheers, thanks.
- Everything all right?
- Sound.
- Any problems?
- No, no. No.
Problems with this new battery.
Couldn't do me last scan.
- You got your paper record?
- I'm on it now.
It's all right, Ricky.
It's nothing to worry about.
Hitting your figures and getting good
feedback, everything's going all right.
Just... Did you have somebody in the van
with you on Saturday gone?
Oh, yeah, it was...
it was me daughter, Liza Jane. Why?
Oh, sorry, mate. We can't have that.
Well, it's... it's my van.
My insurance. My daughter.
I thought it was my business?
Yeah, it is. But it's our franchise.
All right? We had a complaint
from one of the clients.
Nobody fucks with them, ever, mate.
All right?
It's just one of the first commandments,
all right? Cheers.
Mate, I've got a meeting
with me wife and me son.
- What?
- I've got a meeting with the headmaster.
I'm... I'm... I'm shutting up now, mate.
- I...
- Right. Is there not another entrance?
- They might still be in.
- The whole school's locked, mate.
Sorry. The headmaster,
he went about 20, 25 minutes ago.
- Sorry.
- Fucking hell.
"I'm writing to inform you
of my decision to exclude Sebastian
for a fixed period of 14 days,
beginning October 15th,
ending October 29th.
I realise that this exclusion may well be
upsetting for you and the whole family...
...but there must be clear consequences
for violent behaviour.
Your son is banned from being in any
public space during school hours
and should work from home."
That's not gonna work, is it?
Sebastian should work from home, using
an online learning programme called SAM,
with log-in details below.
Well, yeah. That's a fucking joke, innit?
When Harpoon was suspended,
he could do his work from the school
library, supervised, is that right?
Are you listening to me?
Did you ask about that?
I was too busy listening to him complain
about why you weren't there.
There's no way he's gonna be doing
his work at home, is there?
So we need to get it changed
so that he goes into school and does it.
I don't know.
It's common sense,
it's an obvious question.
I can't believe you didn't ask it!
Why don't you go and phone him, then?
I can't believe you were face to face with
him and you didn't even bother to ask.
I can't believe you didn't turn up
and ask the questions yourself!
I've been running around
like a blue-arsed fly all day!
- I've not even had anything to eat!
- (Abby sighs)
Do you know how much work I've had on?
- Blue-arsed fly?
- Yeah.
Do you know what it is? Poor you!
I never get my friggin' dinner any day.
Do you know what? I've been stood in
bus stops all day. I've got no transport.
I've got to travel around by buses
to do my job,
having people shout at me at bus stops
all friggin' day!
And I can't get to fucking work
cos I don't have the car! Cos you sold it!
I'm sick of youse.
(front door opens)
(door slams shut)
Do you know, the only time I ever argued
with your mum, and it's cos of you.
Yeah, Dad.
It's always my fault, innit? Always.
Last Saturday night I got married
Me and my wife settled down
Now me and my wife, we are parted
Gonna take another show round town
Good night, Irene
Good night
Good night, Irene
Good night, Irene
I'll see you in my dreams
(Abby sobs softly)
I, erm... I just wanted a quick word.
You know I'm a grafter
and there's no bullshit with me.
But I'm just having some problems at home
at the minute with my teenage son. He's...
He's skipping school
and he's just on the warpath.
But it's affecting everybody in the house.
My daughter, Liza Jane, she's...
she's 11 and she's
not sleeping right and...
My wife's up the wall with it.
So, erm...
Well, I just need a week off.
I'm not finishing till late. It's gone
nine o'clock by the time I'm getting back.
We're just all knackered.
Why are you asking me?
Just get a replacement driver,
won't cost you a penny.
It's your business. Remember?
Yeah, well, I've tried.
I've already spoke to eight of my mates.
But, erm...
I can't get one until after Christmas.
I've been speaking to the drivers as well
about us getting a driver between us
and, you know, chipping in.
But, erm... Well, it's not that easy.
It's good you're using your initiative,
though. It shows planning ahead.
The thing is, though,
I could do with a week now.
It's just, erm...
Abby, she, erm...
Well, she's just really struggling again.
I mean, even five days would be good.
I had four drivers in here last week.
First driver's sleeping on his mate's
couch cos his wife's kicked him out.
Second driver, his sister had a stroke.
Third driver, he's got fucking piles
and needs an operation.
Fourth driver,
his daughter tried to commit suicide.
I can go on.
See, at some point,
every family is gonna have a problem.
My old man was a farmer. He milked cows.
Do you think he got a day off?
Three days?
You know, please, that'd... that'd do.
Everyone in this building knows
I am "nasty bastard number one".
But I am greatly misunderstood.
All the complaints, the rage, the anger,
the hate, I soak it all up...
...and I use it as fuel.
And with that energy, I create
a protective shield around this depot -
this depot, with the best performing
figures in the country bar none.
Do you wanna know why I'm number one?
Cos I keep this happy.
All the houses you go to, all the faces
you see, the people you speak to...
...has anyone ever genuinely
asked you how you are?
They couldn't give a shit
if you fall asleep at the wheel
and go head on into a bus.
All they care about is price, delivery
and the item in the hand.
And all of that gets fed back
into this box.
And this box is in competition
with all of the other little black boxes
round the country.
And it's that what decides the contracts.
This decides who lives and who dies.
I want Apple, Amazon, Samsung, Zara,
here for my drivers and your families.
This place might look like a shithole
but this depot's a fucking goldmine.
The shareholders should erect a statue
in the car park of me, Maloney...
patron saint of nasty bastards.
You want a day off?
It'll cost you fucking 100 a go.
(horn toots)
(engine revving)
(mobile ringtone)
It is, yeah.
(horn toots)
MALONEY: Come on,
we've got time to make up, let's go.
Are you winding me up?
Well, is he there? Can I speak to him?
No. Yeah. No, I understand. Erm...
Right, can you give me a minute?
I'll ring the wife.
I'm in the middle of a shift here, so...
I'll see if I can get her to come in.
- Right, cheers, thanks. Bye-bye.
- (bleep)
- What's the matter, mate?
- I'll tell you in a minute.
Fucking hell, Abby.
- Come on.
- What's wrong?
That fucking dickhead.
He's been caught shoplifting in town.
- You're joking?
- No, I've had the police on the phone.
The copper's all right but said he needs
an adult there or he's gonna charge him.
- Where's your lass?
- I'm trying to ring her now.
Abby, pick up the phone!
I can't have him getting
a criminal record.
Hey, come on,
we've got time to make up. Let's go.
(clears throat) Abby, ring me straight
back, it's really urgent. OK, thanks, bye.
What you gonna do?
Gonna ring him back.
(truck horn blares)
Hi, it's... it's Mr Turner.
I've tried ringing my wife.
I can't get hold of her.
So, erm...
what's the situation?
I don't know what to do, mate.
Well, you're gonna have to go.
Right, OK, erm...
Right, well, I'll come, then, if that's
OK. I'll be as quick as I can.
OK, then, thanks. Cheers. Bye.
(clears throat) Erm...
Maloney, I'm gonna have to go.
- What? You having a fucking laugh?
- No.
How am I meant to get a replacement driver
now? I can't even share the parcels out.
There's you and only Henry left.
Everyone else has fucking gone.
I know, I'm sorry.
But it's... it's personal.
Do I look like a fucking counsellor?
Get those parcels out of your van
and that's you landed with a sanction.
Fucking personal, my arse!
For fuck's sake!
You will pay through the fucking nose
for this.
So in your favour you've been honest,
you've held your hands up
and you've admitted it.
Because of that,
we can see my mate out there
and get this caution agreed and signed up,
all right?
Then it'll go on to
the police national computer.
So, is that a conviction?
It's not a conviction,
but obviously if he gets into any more
bother, they'll be aware of it
and they'll use it as evidence
of previous character, you know.
Do you understand that, Seb?
Sebastian, do you understand
what I'm trying to say to you?
Right, tell you what, let's start here
as we mean to go on, eh?
Get yourself sat upright.
Lift your head up and look me in the eyes.
Let's do this properly.
This is a big moment for you.
A big moment, young man, all right?
Now, if you wanna carry on going
the way you're going on,
there'll be nowt there but
misery and heartache for you.
And not just you but for your folks
as well, all right?
Alternatively, grab a hold of this chance,
this opportunity, that I'm giving you.
Give your head a shake, get through
school, get a job, car, holiday -
whatever it is you want to do.
But then have the pride in knowing
that you've done that,
you've paid for it, you've earned it.
Because you've got
the best thing in life here.
You've got a family that care about you,
that love you.
You've got a father that runs away from
work to be here for you today
and suffer this humiliating experience
that he's had to go through.
I see it all the time, right?
And there's people don't have that.
They don't have family that care for them
like that. And you've got it.
It's massive, man.
So have a think about this, right?
Take this on board for everybody's sakes.
Are you gonna do that?
I hope so.
(keypad tapping)
This year's a really important year for
you, Seb. I hope you paid attention today.
It's make or break for you,
you've got to stop messing about.
Will you put your phone down!
I'm listening.
It's just called multi-tasking.
- I'm not gonna ask you again.
- Bet you do.
Seb, cut it out, please.
(keypad tapping)
- Put it down.
- All ears.
I hope so.
Do you understand what a conviction means?
Fuck's sake, man! Lads out here nowadays,
stealing motorbikes,
carrying knives, selling drugs.
What, I lift three shitty cans of paint,
less than 15 quid?
We don't steal in this family.
It was a chain store, not a corner shop.
Seb, that doesn't make it OK.
What's gonna happen next?
Do you know, every course you apply for,
every job you apply for,
every form you ever fill in...
Do you know how much you've cost us today?
100 pound for a replacement driver,
plus a day off
and not to mention a sanction.
(keypad tapping)
You just don't give a shit, do you?
- Put your phone down.
- Listen to your mother.
Calm down, man. All this stress.
Right, things are gonna change round here.
First thing in the morning,
you're going to school,
every day without exception.
How are you gonna do that -
put me in a straitjacket?
You are going to school -
cos I've had it up to here with you!
Ah, I get it.
Gonna wrap me up, put me in a parcel,
put me in the back of your van.
What, special delivery?
Right, that's it. You'll get your phone
back when you go to school.
- Give us my phone! Give us my phone!
- Fucking warning you.
Seb, Seb!
- (angry shouting)
RICKY: I'm fucking warning you!
- Get back!
- Stop it!
Get out!
Biggest mistake you've ever done in
your fucking life! You'll pay, I swear!
Get out!
All right.
- (door slams)
ABBY: It's all right, sweetheart.
It's OK.
He'll come back.
I don't believe him.
It's OK, sweetheart.
You need to wind it down, not wind it up.
So it's my fault, is it?
He's skipping school and shoplifting
and he's cost us over 500 quid today.
He's selfish, Abby.
It's something else now.
It's gone beyond right or wrong.
Bollocks - that's exactly what it is,
right or wrong.
I've seen it with my friends' kids. We
need to keep communicating with him.
We need to be together.
I'm not gonna lose him.
No, we need to keep communicating with
each other. You should be backing me up.
If you don't, then we're done for.
I do back you up.
And we're done for if you don't watch
your temper. You're exhausted.
Can you not see it?
So it is my fucking fault?
It will be your fault
if you can't control yourself.
I had to split you up.
I can't have that.
I don't want it to be like my dad.
That's a bit below the belt.
I'm fuck all like that old bastard.
How can you even say that?
When have you ever seen me
raise my hands to the kids? When?
Look, you came so close.
Once that line's crossed,
you can't go back.
Can you not see it?
Did you not see it? He came at me,
it wasn't the other way round.
I was in the middle of you.
- Why are you blaming me, Abby?
- I'm not blaming you.
I'm not blaming you.
It sounds like it to me.
And do you know what?
If that's what you think, you can pack
your stuff and fuck off. I mean it.
- You're not listening to me.
- (knock at door)
Stop it. Stop fighting.
It's all right, I'll be in in a minute.
You're not listening to me.
You know how I feel about fighting
and arguing. I hate it.
It's not my fault, Abby.
You're exhausted.
You need to just be careful.
I'm coming, Liza.
(musical ringtone)
(ringtone stops)
(door opens)
Abby, I'm really sorry.
I didn't wanna say anything.
Didn't wanna worry you
but she's wetting the bed.
What, just now?
No, but she's shaking. So I'm gonna sleep
in there with her tonight.
I'm sorry as well.
We need to get through this.
I just don't know what to do, Abby.
It's his phone.
His homework's on there...
...his paintings, the photos of them,
all of his friends.
- Did you know that?
- No.
It's his life.
What are we gaining
by taking his phone away?
Shall we give him his phone back?
Thank you.
I should go and look for him.
He'll be at Harpoon's. I'll text him.
- Abby?
- Yeah?
What are we doing to each other, eh?
I don't know.
I really don't know.
(spray can in background)
(spray can rattling)
(door creaks)
(door closes)
- Yeah?
- Come here.
- What's wrong?
- Just come here.
- Who's done that?
- Who do you think's done that?
Look at my pictures.
Yeah, the only one he's not done
is of you and Liza.
So what does that tell you?
Is his keys there?
My van key's gone as well.
Well, have a look.
Is it there?
Yeah, it's there.
Check your coat.
- I still need to find them.
- Check your coat, I'll check his room.
If we don't find them,
I can't go to fucking work!
Check your other coat in the living room.
He's done this so I can't go to work,
Abby, I'm telling you.
There's nothing in here.
- Anything?
- No.
What am I gonna do?
I can't ring Maloney after yesterday,
he'll go nuts.
You know where Harpoon and Dodge live.
- Look at the time, Abby.
- Take Seb's old bike.
You'll get there in no time.
...then take, on your way out of here...
Go straight down the road.
Then you need to take two lefts.
When you get down there...
Hello, Maloney, it's Ricky.
I've, erm...
I've got a bit of a problem this morning,
I can't find the keys for my van.
Look, that's two days in a row
you've fucked up my stats.
You've jumped from being a blue-eyed boy
to a fucking arsehole.
I know.
"I know"?
Is that all you've got to say, "I know"?
This is another 100 fine and a sanction.
You get another one,
you're getting a red card.
(exhales heavily)
(door closes)
(footsteps approaching)
- Where's my van keys?
- Have you lost your keys?
(tuts) What a shame.
Just give me the fucking van keys.
- Give me my phone, then, innit?
- Give me the fucking van keys!
I don't even know what you're on about,
you mental bastard!
You don't know what I'm on about? You've
been in and sprayed shit everywhere!
You've took my fucking van keys!
I nearly lost my job today!
I don't know what you're on about,
you pisshead!
You fucking little twat!
- Fuck!
- Move.
- Fuck's sake.
- Get out now!
- (Seb groans)
- Get out!
- All right.
- (footsteps descending stairs)
(door slams)
(chatter in background)
(chatter continues)
(mobile ringtone)
(ringtone stops)
Hiya, Liza.
Dad, can you come home now, please?
I just...
I need a bit of time.
Please come home now.
How's your brother?
He's just left. He's fine.
Please come home now.
I'm sorry.
It shouldn't...
It shouldn't have happened but...
Well, it's just one of them things, innit?
Just... got out of hand.
There's something I need to tell youse.
The night when Seb came in
and he was spray-painting the pictures,
I woke up and I heard him but...
he was out of the door
before I could get there.
I just wanted things the way they were.
And I wanted Seb back.
So I thought that if I took your keys...
...things might go back to normal.
Oh, darling.
(Ricky sobs)
(tearfully): I'm sorry.
It's all my fault.
(she sobs and inhales sharply)
It's not your fault.
(she sobs)
(Ricky sniffles)
Well, I can go to work now.
(Liza Jane hyperventilates)
It's all right. It's all right, love.
It's fine.
Where's Seb? (sobs)
Oh, God, I owe him a really big apology.
He's at Harpoon's, he's OK.
I spoke to Harpoon's mam.
He's gonna sleep there tonight. He's OK.
(Liza Jane hyperventilates)
I wanna tell him...
...that it's my fault.
(tyres screeching, horn tooting)
(horn toots)
(horns blaring)
MAN: Hey, stop!
- (brakes squealing)
(horns blaring)
(handbrake on)
- Hiya, love.
- All right?
- Look at all these mouths.
- Mm-hm.
- What's that?
- I don't know.
These as well?
- Asking a lot of questions, innit?
- Mm-hm.
There's a lot I don't know about him.
(grunts softly)
(heavy thud)
Get those phones!
Come here, you cunt!
- Give up, you cunt!
- Argh!
- You prick!
- Fuck him!
Give me the fucking bag, man!
The fucking bag!
- Go for it.
- Cunt!
Fucking shit.
- Here's your shit.
- You broke my fucking nose, man!
- Come on!
- Wanker!
Fucking wanker.
(breathes raggedly)
NURSE: Take a seat.
Somebody'll be with you soon.
Thank you.
Ayeshea Robson, please.
Come on, Ayeshea.
Stephen Baron?
- It's all right.
- Sure?
Nell McShane?
(girl coughs)
I'm worried about your head and your ribs.
Your eye's so swollen.
It's all right. I can see fine, Abby.
I think you've punctured your knuckles
as well, though.
It were worth it. Fucking wankers.
Did you pass out?
No, why?
Did you wet yourself?
No, I, erm...
I had a piss in a bottle
in the back of the van
and they found it and threw it on me.
I'm fine, Abby.
Just go and find out how long
we're gonna be.
I fucking hate it here. It's dead boring.
I'd rather be at home. Go on.
We're not going
without your X-ray results.
(low buzz of chatter)
- Sorry, what was the name?
- Turner.
Right, I can see the X-ray result
is back,
but it does need to be assessed by a GP.
(Abby clears her throat)
It's gonna be about three hours waiting.
- Three fucking hours?
- I know.
Jackie said she'll, erm...
she'll have Liza Jane, so she's OK.
Yeah. Have you spoken to Seb?
Yeah, but he just froze.
I think he's in shock.
(mobile ringtone)
Will you get that?
Derek Anderson?
Oh, fucking hell, it's Maloney.
Hello, Maloney.
Are you OK?
Yeah, I'm just waiting for some X-rays.
All right, well, good luck with that.
Er... what's happening
with the other parcels?
Don't worry, they're safe.
Henry's picked the van up.
I've been on the phone
to the insurance companies,
and we're covered for all the phones...
pretty much everything, in fact,
apart from the passports,
and you had two of them, Ricky.
I'm sorry about that.
Sorry about what?
Well, the passports.
It's 250 for each passport.
It's a bit of a blow. It's 500 quid, mate.
500 quid for two fucking passports?
I can't believe it.
Erm... have you got a replacement driver
for tomorrow?
I've had the shit kicked out of me
and I'm in hospital
and you ask
if I've got a replacement driver?
I suppose you're gonna hit me
with another 100 quid fine?
I'm sorry, but the stiff one's the gun.
- The gun?
- What?
The hand-held scanner.
Them dickheads smashed it up.
Go on.
Well, you know that's a grand, right?
We can do instalments.
A grand?
You're expecting me to pay 1,000?
Are you having a laugh?
- Hang on, Abby, don't.
- It's Ricky's wife, Abby.
I'm sat in hospital with him.
His face has been pummelled,
he's waiting for X-rays,
he could have a punctured lung,
they haven't even checked
his head injuries.
And you're saying about fines
and 1,000 devices.
Are you having a laugh?
- Abby...
- Self-employed?
How's he self-employed?
He's worked 14 hours a day,
six days a week for youse.
He works for you.
How's that self-employed?
How do you get away with this?
How does your company get away
with treating people like this?
This is people's lives.
This is my family and I'm telling you now,
don't fuck with my family.
And fuck you, fuck your fucking device...
and your fucking phone,
put it up your fucking arse!
Abby, it's not the place. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I don't swear.
I'm really sorry.
I'm a carer and I care for people.
And I'm really sorry. I don't swear.
- Abby, just come on.
- (tearfully): I don't swear.
Abby, get your bag.
- I'm so sorry!
- I know. Just come on.
- I'm so sorry.
- No, it's all right.
- Is everything all right?
- Yeah, fine.
- She's just...
- What about your X-ray results?
It's fine. I'll come back tomorrow.
She's just a bit upset.
I'll pop back in the morning,
if that's OK.
I need to... She's had a bit of trauma.
(door closes)
(footsteps moving around)
(door creaks)
- Psst, Dad.
- What?
Are you OK?
Yeah, I'm fine, thanks, Seb.
Just a bit shaky.
Can I get you anything,
like water or a cup of tea?
No, I'm good, I've got some.
No, but, Dad, man,
look at the state of you.
Yeah, well, it's...
- It's worse than it looks.
- You're a mess.
Yeah, well...
You know me.
Strong in the arm, thick in the head.
Are you sure
you don't need anything, though?
No, I'm... I'm fine, thanks, son.
All right. I'll be in the next room
just in case you need me, OK?
- Yeah.
- All right.
It's really good to see you, son.
(grunts softly)
(engine starts)
Dad, where are you going?
(handbrake on)
Wind down the window.
Where are you going?
Calm down, Seb. I'm just going
to the hospital for the X-ray results.
At 6:30 in the morning? Are you stupid?
I'll speak to you tonight when I get back.
But what do you need
to speak to me about?
We're thousands of pounds in debt, Seb.
I've got fines coming out of my arse.
If I don't pay him and sort it out,
we'll end up on the streets.
I'm not having that for you
and your mum and Liza.
So let me go.
You can't go like that, man, Dad.
Look at the state of you.
You've only got one eye that works.
You're gonna kill yourself
when you're driving.
Son, I've got to go to work.
I have not got a choice.
Dad, I just want you back
the way you were,
the way everything was.
It's all I want.
(sighs) It'll be different
in six months, I promise.
- But how do you know that?
- Because I'll sort it out, I promise!
Now, come on, I've got to go.
- Dad, don't.
- Fuck's sake, Seb, I'm going to work.
- I can't let you go!
- I've got to fucking go!
- Move!
- No, Dad, don't go!
- I'm going.
- What do you mean?
- I've got to go!
ABBY: Get out of your van!
- Jesus Christ!
- Get out of your van!
Open the door.
- I've got to go!
- Get out of your van.
- I've got to go to work!
- Get out! You can't go to work.
- I'm going to work!
- You can't go to work!
- Let go of the fucking van!
- You can't go to work!
Ricky, don't go to work!
(tyres screech, engine revs)
(tyres screech)
(sobs) Come on.
(breathes heavily)