Damned (2016) s02e01 Episode Script
Series 2, Episode 1
1 Tiara I thought it was you.
Do you want a lift? It's all right, I know your mum.
- Oh, morning Nat.
- Hello, Martin, what's this? - Fudge Friday.
What about having a bit of fun? - No, I'm supposed to - have a free from Friday.
- Free from what? Being efficient? Oh, now come on, Nitin.
Don't be mean! You can find that Nat's got a firm grasp now on our quite complex telecommunications system.
Thanks, Martin.
- Fuck! Umm - Press three.
Press three.
Press three.
Just I meant free from everything that's bad for you, actually.
Ah, well, now, funny you should say that because this fudge is dairy, gluten, and sugar-free.
- I got the recipe from - Ingrid.
- Yes, yes.
So easy to follow.
Just pop the fudge in the fridge overnight and hey, presto.
Woke up this morning with fudgy fingers.
What biscuit barrel? We haven't got a biscuit barrel.
That's an urn.
That is my nan's ashes! Yes, yes! You can have it! Just put the ashes in the bin! Now, who are you? You're just over the line, just in time.
Want a fudge? There you go.
Enjoy.
Can I just put all of this in an e-mail? Sorry, everyone.
Puppy shat in my shoe.
And I trot in some more shit.
Had to buy some emergency pop socks at the station.
Oh, well, at least they'll sort out your deep vein thrombosis.
Jesus, you look like you've got prosthetic feet! My fuckwit of an ex-husband bought the kids a puppy, so they wouldn't hate him.
Hasn't worked.
They're bored of it already.
Who's taking it to puppy classes? Who's clearing up all the cack? Not all the cack, because you've brought quite a lot of the cack to work.
Who would have thought that so much - poo would come out of such a tiny anus? - Well I'm sorry, Rose.
But latecomers forfeit the fruits of Fudge Friday.
Christ! Since he got promoted, Martin's gone all, by the book.
Yeah, and all, buy a new suit.
Got in the TARDIS and gone back to 1996, BHS.
At least he's making an effort.
Rude.
I stopped caring when Jarvis Cocker grew a beard.
Anyway, we've got paedophiles roaming the borough.
Now, what's - this random fudge thing? - Did you make the fudge, Ing.
Oh, no.
I just gave the recipe to Martin.
- I didn't have time to make it myself.
- I find that hard to believe.
Well, I was preparing for my new arrival.
- Getting a new cat? - No, six is plenty! Don't want to be seen as the crazy cat lady.
Well that ship has sailed.
Ing's taking on her foster child, permanently.
Is this the same foster kid that stole your microwave? Limahl? Yes, yes it is, yes.
He brought it back though.
He said he couldn't sell it because it was too effing S H 1 T.
His words, sort of.
Elm Heath children's services.
'Hello, yeah, I'm wondering if I can get some extra benefits, as me 'kid's autistic.
What's the most money you get for which disease?' 'I'm sorry, but you are a fuck trumpet!' 'Kids are out of nursery, absolutely pissed.
- 'Call me back please.
' - Yep, ta.
So, what delights have you got in your inbox? An 11-year-old girl whose sexually abusing a 14-year-old boy, a drunk three-year-old, and a bloke who claims he was groomed by a sports coach in the 1980s.
Oh, that's very on trend.
He got a name? No, but he coached the Elm Heath Strollers between '86 and '92.
OK, here we go.
There were three youth coaches in the 1980s.
Every single one of them looks like a textbook paedo.
I quite like that look.
Sexy.
Well, none of them are still coaching.
So, it's historic.
So that's one for the plods.
Crossing it off my list, yes! I got a call about Tiara Branser.
Is she known to us? - Mum's a sex worker.
- Well, that's not necessarily a crime.
No, but we've had the tip-off that the mum's working from home while - the kids are there.
- Which is a crime! Why don't you join in our private conversation, Chief Wiggum? The caller reckons that some of the clients are interested in Tiara.
- How old is she? - 13.
And there's a boy around ten.
Well, perhaps we'd better pop around there.
Just to check it's not some nosy neighbour shit-stirring.
Yeah, I'm on it.
So how was last night? Wasn't Lee going to take the kids to Pizza Hut? - Did you get some me time? - Ha-ha(!) Did I fuck! He maxed out his credit card, again! How did you manage 15 years married to that feckless wanker? Same way as you managed to play house with Caitlin.
Yeah, once the sex morphine wears off, it's all downhill from there.
Still, at least we got a shot on them both.
If I may add my penneth worth, I've always found that true love transcends the physical.
My wife and I were like chalk and cheese in the bedroom.
But we still had 24 blissful years.
- OK, and then what? - She died.
What did your wife die of, Mart? Ah, well.
Actually, Nat, I'd rather not discuss it.
Of course not.
Sorry, Mart.
Was it cancer? - Hello, Natalie Moor speaking.
- 'Yeah, can I speak to Pat Boone?' Pat Boone? 'Pat Boone.
' - No.
- 'What about Engelbert Humperdinck?' And here they are.
Elm Heath's finest.
Everyone, this is Mimi.
- Mimi, this is everyone.
- Hello, everyone.
- Hey.
- Hi.
- I love that name.
That's what Mariah Carey calls herself on her album, The Emancipation of Mimi.
Thanks, but she's about as emancipated as Disney's Pocahontas.
- Ha! - Yeah Is that good or bad? Mimi is a student social worker, who is going to be shadowing us for a few weeks.
- Well, hopefully longer.
- Lovely - If all goes well.
- So, one of you will be assigned as mentor.
- Good, bring that on.
- Not you, Nitin.
She'll be assigned to a senior social worker.
Alastair, Rose, Martin he's not here at the moment.
He's in assessment.
But you'll meet him later.
.
.
and Ingrid, are the candidates.
Where is Ingrid? Is she still off sick with her compromised uterus? No, she got a call from school about her foster kid, Lahmal.
Something about him selling MDMA at Friday prayer club.
- Jesus Christ! - Actually, I think it's a (Muslim) club.
Nat.
You don't have to whisper the word Muslim.
It's not a swear, it's not an offensive term, is it? I will observe your interactions before I select.
Don't select me.
I'd be a shit mentor.
I've post-menopausal rage, most of the time.
I can't even get my own kids to clean their teeth.
That's not a point of pride, Rose.
That's a form of abuse.
So, just wanted to say, thanks for having me.
I'm here to learn from you elder statespeople.
- Respect.
- Well, you can learn where the kitchen is, if you'd like? - I'm just about to make a brew.
- No, you're all right, thanks.
If you all wouldn't mind filling out this questionnaire, just a few stupidly basic questions about social work practice.
We can probably paint a fairly accurate verbal picture.
Um OK.
Question one, what do you think is the main impact of gender politics on 21st century feminist social workers? Right, well that's a no-brainer, I think.
But, I think I agree with - What was the question? - OK, well I guess the Kuhnian paradigm shift in relation to feminist social workers is a very current debate.
However, I've just finished this spirited fun conversation with a father of five, who has beaten up his wife, pissed his benefits up the wall, and set fire to his dog.
So I think that, for today, the impact of gender politics is taking something of the back seat.
- All right.
Al, bring the tone down.
- Al's very long in the tooth, Mimi.
Mimi, come.
You should get Denise to train your puppy.
Why do we have to have the bloody student sniffing around our desk? She's not going to sniff around your desk, I'll tell you that right now.
You've got a shitty trainer underneath it! I can smell it from here! Can't you just put it in a bag or something? Oh, all right! I'll run a hot kettle over it.
Wait! I read this life hack.
The best way to get dog shit off a trainer is to put it in the freezer.
Then you just chip it off with a matchstick.
- Everything about that depresses me.
- Actually, it's strangely satisfying.
I'm not saying that I step in it deliberately, but now I don't mind when I do.
- Christ - Give us your trainer, Rose, I'll lob it in the freezer.
You can borrow my slippers, if you like? Hello? Hi, I'm Al Kavanagh.
Are you Tiara? - Yes.
- Is your mum in? Maybe, she said come in and wait.
Oh, thank you.
- Why aren't you in school? - Still on holidays.
- Where's your mum? - Working.
- Oh, so, she works outside the house? She'll be back in a minute.
Tiara, do you know what sort of work it is your mum does? Kids, I'm back! Oh, shit.
Just give me a minute.
Stay in there with your brother.
~ And don't come into the massage room, I'll be out in 15 minutes.
Maybe ten.
- That door there.
- No, I'm not here for that.
Whatever, just get in there! So what do you want? Handjob, blowjob, full sex, or anal for 50? No! I'm Al Kavanagh, I'm from social services.
If you want roleplay, there's a gimp suit in the cupboard.
No, I'm from I'm from actual social services.
I think I should be given a shot.
Through the head? Couldn't agree more.
No, I think I might have something to pass on to the new recruit.
- Like Glandular fever? - I'd be a good mentor! I'm efficient, my response times are the fastest And you wanting to mentor Mimi - has absolutely nothing to do with you fancying her? - Pfft! Denise, seriously.
My last girlfriend was a model.
Couldn't you get a real one? No, like a lingerie model.
Pants and vests.
Oh, blooming bum holes! - Where are they?! - Have you lost something? OK, all the old client records are supposed to have been digitised when we moved offices, right? But there were huge gaps in the computer data.
So, they must've been put somewhere else.
Well, what programme are you using? PC filing programme? Because that data can be stored as the number of blocks, or a byte count, or by the fast timestamp etc.
So when you say that some data's gone missing, all you really need to know is what you're specifically looking for.
- I'm looking for missing files.
- Yeah, OK.
- Sorry! - Are you all right, Martin? - That's hot! God! Knock-knock! Hiya, sorry, Denise sent me here to get some ice.
She banged her funny bone.
Didn't know she had one! - Don't tell her I said that.
- Sorry, I haven't had the pleasure.
- I'm Martin.
Hello.
- This is Mimi.
She's work experience.
Student social worker.
She's making everyone fill in a questionnaire.
Questionnaire? Well, off I toddle.
Better get busy ticking some of your boxes.
So, can I get some ice? There's a shitty shoe in there.
You should see what we've got in the salad compartment.
So is Martin the office sad sack? - There's always one.
- Martin's wife died of a bad disease.
So, don't put your nose in where it's not welcomed.
Or you might find it gets chopped off, young madam! Darren, I'm sorry your coach forced you to do those things.
You've just got to go to the police and report it to them.
- We only deal with children here.
- I was a child! And I did try to tell people about it at the time and no one! - No one listened! - Rose, Al's on line one for you.
We just don't have the resources to help you.
Have you thought about therapy? I don't want therapy.
- I want justice! - Sorry.
You'll just have to go to the police.
Ro Rose, it's urgent.
- OK, I'll just transfer you.
- Look, this isn't working.
- It's still caked in cack.
- Give it here, I'll put it back in.
- It really pongs! - How am I supposed to go home on the bus like this? - 'Hi Rose.
It's Al.
I need some advice.
' - Are you OK? - You sound shaky.
- I just got offered anal for 50 quid.
Are your kids have school holidays? No, went back last week.
I think all the local schools did.
- Why? - No, it's just that Branser kids are at home with their mum.
What? And she's seeing clients there? - Shit! Is there any sign of drugs? - She's not puffing on a crack pipe Al, this is Martin, you are the duty social worker.
Get a grip! - Martin? - I'm sending the police down there to remove the children under a PPO.
Once you have handed the children over to the police, I want you back here straightaway.
Thank you.
Rose, find out where the Branser children go to school.
And Greg, bring the headteacher in.
Right, let's get ready for an emergency child protection conference.
Chop-chop! - Is this really necessary? - What's going on? Can you at least tell me what have I done wrong? Please just get in the car.
What is this? I have the right to know.
Jesus, always weirds me out how fast you guys turn up.
The Elm Heath social services, right? Oh, God, know it well, mate.
Lee? What the fuck! Oh, bollocks, what are you doing round here? Don't tell Rose I picked you up.
Lee, mate, really, does she know you're using her car as an Uber? I'm just trying to earn a living.
- Where are you living? - Oh, didn't Rose say? Moved back in.
All right, so we all think it's all right for kids to hear mum and dad having miserable married sex, is it? Just not consensual sex for money.
And, by the way, it is not illegal for the mother to conduct her business at home.
Unless there's a pimp.
If there's a pimp, it's illegal.
- That's the law.
- Thanks for mansplaining that.
Mimi.
Shhh.
There's no evidence of any pimps or any abuse to the children.
Although the children were alone and gave you instant access to the flat, which is neglect.
Well, exactly, I need to conduct a full assessment of each child to determine the level of mental trauma.
They might not have suffered any trauma.
Not suffered any trauma? Their mam's a proz, banging punters and slapping arses while the kids watch cartoons.
Who called us about the Bransers? A neighbour on the estate.
He gave Tiara a lift home today and he was concerned How do you know Mr Nosy Neighbour's not a nonce? They're cunning, these paedos.
They're cunning enough to phone children's social services? It's probably a double bluff.
How long have the Bransers been in the local area? Been here for years, ever since Elena arrived from Romania.
Well, she's an illegal, of course.
They're all in the bloody game, them lot.
Send her back.
Thank you, Brexit.
Are you for real? No, h-he's a stripper off a hen night.
That was uncalled for.
The kids' dad is British.
They are UK citizens.
Look, I am sorry to be the one presenting the uncomfortable statistic, but children of sex workers are more likely to become sex workers.
Oh, my God, why are we all acting - like sex work is a negative profession? - Mimi, please.
- No, she's got a point.
- Really? Yeah.
It's far better to bang a prozzie than rape an innocent woman and, you know OK, th-that's not what I meant.
Don't write that down.
Elena Branser was sex trafficked from Bucharest at 14.
This is a child protection conference, Alastair, not an episode of Who Do You Think You Are? Get Martin to bring her in.
What? Miss Branser, it's important you understand your choice of profession is not under scrutiny today.
Uh, Marcus Bowles, headmaster.
Have a seat.
- Hello.
- Hello! - Sit down.
I'm so sorry.
Traffic from the airport was an absolute fiasco.
- Been anywhere nice? - Oh, just Tuscany.
Uh, we've got a little place.
Yeah, it's very rudimentary, but it's, um .
.
it's, uh, it's - So how can I help? - Well, you're familiar with Miss Branser, - Tiara and Bailey's mother? - Yeah.
Are you aware they are truanting? They've never truanted.
Well, they've not actually started at school yet.
Term doesn't begin for another week, so Mine are back, so are all the other schools round here.
Yes, well, we set our own calendar at Greybridge House.
Greybridge, er, the private co-ed? Yes, I worked with a couple of lovely bulimics there recently.
That's so weird, cos food's usually really nice at posh places.
Uh, sorry .
.
is there a problem? We are here to determine whether the children, especially Tiara, are at risk of CSE because their mother is an FSW.
Sorry, I'm a little bit rusty with the old acronyms.
CSE -- child sexual exploitation.
Er, FSW Hang on.
FSW -- female sex worker.
Sorry, so who's a sex worker? Ohhh.
OK.
Sweets? - No, thanks.
- We're not allowed to.
Stranger danger.
But I'm a social worker, so it's fine.
You can have a sweet.
- Go on.
- Oh, my God, you are totally weirding me out.
The children were only home because of the longer school holidays.
After next week, they won't even be there when I'm working.
Look, prostitution is not an acceptable occupation for a solo primary carer.
That's so whorephobic.
- Bitch fight.
- I'm a sex-positive feminist.
I don't believe that men want sex and women endure it.
Well, I have every sympathy with any young woman who's forced into a life of danger and penury, but where there are children involved Oh, don't go all I, Daniel Blake on us, mate.
Most of the girls we see are smacked off their tits anyway.
Slut-shamer.
But Denise, 38% of sex workers have a degree.
Where is that statistic from? I mean, who here hasn't had transactional sex - to pay their way through uni? - Oh, fuck off! - I haven't.
You know fuck all with your statistics.
- That's right.
- I'm not ashamed of what I do, OK? I also work on a zero-hours contract, cleaning filthy toilets in a hospital.
Is that acceptable? It's certainly not going to pay for my kids' education, is it? No, really Look, Elena, our only concern is for the safety of your children.
They are not at risk.
Look, we're told we intervene too often, sometimes too readily And what is your suggested alternative, Alastair? I'm all ears.
I promise you, the kids have seen nothing.
He knows that.
He's been in my massage room.
Just to clarify, I made a home visit and I was locked inside the, um .
.
sex room before she, Elena, realised that I was not a client.
Oh, well You dirty dog.
Oh, I have to go, I have a trans kid with a shank on a psych ward.
A lamb shank? Miss Branser, have your clients ever directly expressed sexual interest in either of your children, yes or no? No.
But, with the children on the premises, you have had paid intercourse.
Yes, but it's not even always intercourse.
One bloke just wants me to stamp on his cock.
Oh.
Right, well, I think it's best for now if we remove the children with immediate effect.
- No.
- Martin, please raise the child protection order.
- Please don't.
- Meeting adjourned.
- Please don't.
I am a good mother.
- It's just temporary.
- I-I can take care of my children.
- Elena - Tiara.
- What's happening? Listen to me.
It's OK.
Mum is going to come for you, understand? Mum is going to come back for you.
Come here, buddy.
Come here, buddy, don't be sad.
- Where are we going? - I'm sorry ~ Don't leave us.
- You'll see them soon.
- You take care of him.
Don't touch me! ~ Oh, hey.
- All got a bit intense in there, didn't it? - Yeah.
- Ah.
So where will they go now, the kids? They'll go to their grandmother's - til we determine the best course of action.
- Right.
Good.
But it shouldn't affect them starting in your school next week.
Right, so they Yeah, OK.
Well, you know, it's a bit awkward, actually, because, um, there has been a monumental cock-up.
See, I spoke to my secretary and we thought the Bransers were confirmed, but it turns out we've overestimated the number of sibling places available, so Sorry, I don't follow.
We'll be putting Bailey and Tiara back on the waiting list.
So you find out their mum's a sex worker and suddenly they're not good enough for Grey-fuckers House, is that it? Look, come on, don't be unpleasant.
You should be ashamed of yourself.
I have 600 other families to take into consideration.
Is that all? Well, it's been a twatter of a day and I for one was ready to get the hell out of Dodge, but like the diligent student that she is, Mimi's reminded me it's time to choose her mentor, so let the fun begin.
Yes, and thank you to everyone who filled out my questionnaire.
I think it was only Martin, wasn't it? I think Rose and Alastair couldn't be arsed and Ingrid, I disqualified her on the grounds that she's Ingrid, so well done, Martin! You got the job.
- Oh! - What? You may not have got the popular vote, but that's who you're having.
All right, who fancies a pint of wine? Not going to get back for your kids? Well, they're in semi-capable hands.
Why didn't you tell me Lee had moved back in? I thought you'd disapprove.
Do you know he gave me a lift today? A lift? But he hasn't got a car.
I know, that's why he's using your car in his new career as an Uber driver.
The little fucker.
'Hi, this is Lee's phone.
Do the thing.
Lee.
Rose.
You're dead.
People they ain't no good A thing that's well understood You can see it everywhere you look People just ain't no good At all
Do you want a lift? It's all right, I know your mum.
- Oh, morning Nat.
- Hello, Martin, what's this? - Fudge Friday.
What about having a bit of fun? - No, I'm supposed to - have a free from Friday.
- Free from what? Being efficient? Oh, now come on, Nitin.
Don't be mean! You can find that Nat's got a firm grasp now on our quite complex telecommunications system.
Thanks, Martin.
- Fuck! Umm - Press three.
Press three.
Press three.
Just I meant free from everything that's bad for you, actually.
Ah, well, now, funny you should say that because this fudge is dairy, gluten, and sugar-free.
- I got the recipe from - Ingrid.
- Yes, yes.
So easy to follow.
Just pop the fudge in the fridge overnight and hey, presto.
Woke up this morning with fudgy fingers.
What biscuit barrel? We haven't got a biscuit barrel.
That's an urn.
That is my nan's ashes! Yes, yes! You can have it! Just put the ashes in the bin! Now, who are you? You're just over the line, just in time.
Want a fudge? There you go.
Enjoy.
Can I just put all of this in an e-mail? Sorry, everyone.
Puppy shat in my shoe.
And I trot in some more shit.
Had to buy some emergency pop socks at the station.
Oh, well, at least they'll sort out your deep vein thrombosis.
Jesus, you look like you've got prosthetic feet! My fuckwit of an ex-husband bought the kids a puppy, so they wouldn't hate him.
Hasn't worked.
They're bored of it already.
Who's taking it to puppy classes? Who's clearing up all the cack? Not all the cack, because you've brought quite a lot of the cack to work.
Who would have thought that so much - poo would come out of such a tiny anus? - Well I'm sorry, Rose.
But latecomers forfeit the fruits of Fudge Friday.
Christ! Since he got promoted, Martin's gone all, by the book.
Yeah, and all, buy a new suit.
Got in the TARDIS and gone back to 1996, BHS.
At least he's making an effort.
Rude.
I stopped caring when Jarvis Cocker grew a beard.
Anyway, we've got paedophiles roaming the borough.
Now, what's - this random fudge thing? - Did you make the fudge, Ing.
Oh, no.
I just gave the recipe to Martin.
- I didn't have time to make it myself.
- I find that hard to believe.
Well, I was preparing for my new arrival.
- Getting a new cat? - No, six is plenty! Don't want to be seen as the crazy cat lady.
Well that ship has sailed.
Ing's taking on her foster child, permanently.
Is this the same foster kid that stole your microwave? Limahl? Yes, yes it is, yes.
He brought it back though.
He said he couldn't sell it because it was too effing S H 1 T.
His words, sort of.
Elm Heath children's services.
'Hello, yeah, I'm wondering if I can get some extra benefits, as me 'kid's autistic.
What's the most money you get for which disease?' 'I'm sorry, but you are a fuck trumpet!' 'Kids are out of nursery, absolutely pissed.
- 'Call me back please.
' - Yep, ta.
So, what delights have you got in your inbox? An 11-year-old girl whose sexually abusing a 14-year-old boy, a drunk three-year-old, and a bloke who claims he was groomed by a sports coach in the 1980s.
Oh, that's very on trend.
He got a name? No, but he coached the Elm Heath Strollers between '86 and '92.
OK, here we go.
There were three youth coaches in the 1980s.
Every single one of them looks like a textbook paedo.
I quite like that look.
Sexy.
Well, none of them are still coaching.
So, it's historic.
So that's one for the plods.
Crossing it off my list, yes! I got a call about Tiara Branser.
Is she known to us? - Mum's a sex worker.
- Well, that's not necessarily a crime.
No, but we've had the tip-off that the mum's working from home while - the kids are there.
- Which is a crime! Why don't you join in our private conversation, Chief Wiggum? The caller reckons that some of the clients are interested in Tiara.
- How old is she? - 13.
And there's a boy around ten.
Well, perhaps we'd better pop around there.
Just to check it's not some nosy neighbour shit-stirring.
Yeah, I'm on it.
So how was last night? Wasn't Lee going to take the kids to Pizza Hut? - Did you get some me time? - Ha-ha(!) Did I fuck! He maxed out his credit card, again! How did you manage 15 years married to that feckless wanker? Same way as you managed to play house with Caitlin.
Yeah, once the sex morphine wears off, it's all downhill from there.
Still, at least we got a shot on them both.
If I may add my penneth worth, I've always found that true love transcends the physical.
My wife and I were like chalk and cheese in the bedroom.
But we still had 24 blissful years.
- OK, and then what? - She died.
What did your wife die of, Mart? Ah, well.
Actually, Nat, I'd rather not discuss it.
Of course not.
Sorry, Mart.
Was it cancer? - Hello, Natalie Moor speaking.
- 'Yeah, can I speak to Pat Boone?' Pat Boone? 'Pat Boone.
' - No.
- 'What about Engelbert Humperdinck?' And here they are.
Elm Heath's finest.
Everyone, this is Mimi.
- Mimi, this is everyone.
- Hello, everyone.
- Hey.
- Hi.
- I love that name.
That's what Mariah Carey calls herself on her album, The Emancipation of Mimi.
Thanks, but she's about as emancipated as Disney's Pocahontas.
- Ha! - Yeah Is that good or bad? Mimi is a student social worker, who is going to be shadowing us for a few weeks.
- Well, hopefully longer.
- Lovely - If all goes well.
- So, one of you will be assigned as mentor.
- Good, bring that on.
- Not you, Nitin.
She'll be assigned to a senior social worker.
Alastair, Rose, Martin he's not here at the moment.
He's in assessment.
But you'll meet him later.
.
.
and Ingrid, are the candidates.
Where is Ingrid? Is she still off sick with her compromised uterus? No, she got a call from school about her foster kid, Lahmal.
Something about him selling MDMA at Friday prayer club.
- Jesus Christ! - Actually, I think it's a (Muslim) club.
Nat.
You don't have to whisper the word Muslim.
It's not a swear, it's not an offensive term, is it? I will observe your interactions before I select.
Don't select me.
I'd be a shit mentor.
I've post-menopausal rage, most of the time.
I can't even get my own kids to clean their teeth.
That's not a point of pride, Rose.
That's a form of abuse.
So, just wanted to say, thanks for having me.
I'm here to learn from you elder statespeople.
- Respect.
- Well, you can learn where the kitchen is, if you'd like? - I'm just about to make a brew.
- No, you're all right, thanks.
If you all wouldn't mind filling out this questionnaire, just a few stupidly basic questions about social work practice.
We can probably paint a fairly accurate verbal picture.
Um OK.
Question one, what do you think is the main impact of gender politics on 21st century feminist social workers? Right, well that's a no-brainer, I think.
But, I think I agree with - What was the question? - OK, well I guess the Kuhnian paradigm shift in relation to feminist social workers is a very current debate.
However, I've just finished this spirited fun conversation with a father of five, who has beaten up his wife, pissed his benefits up the wall, and set fire to his dog.
So I think that, for today, the impact of gender politics is taking something of the back seat.
- All right.
Al, bring the tone down.
- Al's very long in the tooth, Mimi.
Mimi, come.
You should get Denise to train your puppy.
Why do we have to have the bloody student sniffing around our desk? She's not going to sniff around your desk, I'll tell you that right now.
You've got a shitty trainer underneath it! I can smell it from here! Can't you just put it in a bag or something? Oh, all right! I'll run a hot kettle over it.
Wait! I read this life hack.
The best way to get dog shit off a trainer is to put it in the freezer.
Then you just chip it off with a matchstick.
- Everything about that depresses me.
- Actually, it's strangely satisfying.
I'm not saying that I step in it deliberately, but now I don't mind when I do.
- Christ - Give us your trainer, Rose, I'll lob it in the freezer.
You can borrow my slippers, if you like? Hello? Hi, I'm Al Kavanagh.
Are you Tiara? - Yes.
- Is your mum in? Maybe, she said come in and wait.
Oh, thank you.
- Why aren't you in school? - Still on holidays.
- Where's your mum? - Working.
- Oh, so, she works outside the house? She'll be back in a minute.
Tiara, do you know what sort of work it is your mum does? Kids, I'm back! Oh, shit.
Just give me a minute.
Stay in there with your brother.
~ And don't come into the massage room, I'll be out in 15 minutes.
Maybe ten.
- That door there.
- No, I'm not here for that.
Whatever, just get in there! So what do you want? Handjob, blowjob, full sex, or anal for 50? No! I'm Al Kavanagh, I'm from social services.
If you want roleplay, there's a gimp suit in the cupboard.
No, I'm from I'm from actual social services.
I think I should be given a shot.
Through the head? Couldn't agree more.
No, I think I might have something to pass on to the new recruit.
- Like Glandular fever? - I'd be a good mentor! I'm efficient, my response times are the fastest And you wanting to mentor Mimi - has absolutely nothing to do with you fancying her? - Pfft! Denise, seriously.
My last girlfriend was a model.
Couldn't you get a real one? No, like a lingerie model.
Pants and vests.
Oh, blooming bum holes! - Where are they?! - Have you lost something? OK, all the old client records are supposed to have been digitised when we moved offices, right? But there were huge gaps in the computer data.
So, they must've been put somewhere else.
Well, what programme are you using? PC filing programme? Because that data can be stored as the number of blocks, or a byte count, or by the fast timestamp etc.
So when you say that some data's gone missing, all you really need to know is what you're specifically looking for.
- I'm looking for missing files.
- Yeah, OK.
- Sorry! - Are you all right, Martin? - That's hot! God! Knock-knock! Hiya, sorry, Denise sent me here to get some ice.
She banged her funny bone.
Didn't know she had one! - Don't tell her I said that.
- Sorry, I haven't had the pleasure.
- I'm Martin.
Hello.
- This is Mimi.
She's work experience.
Student social worker.
She's making everyone fill in a questionnaire.
Questionnaire? Well, off I toddle.
Better get busy ticking some of your boxes.
So, can I get some ice? There's a shitty shoe in there.
You should see what we've got in the salad compartment.
So is Martin the office sad sack? - There's always one.
- Martin's wife died of a bad disease.
So, don't put your nose in where it's not welcomed.
Or you might find it gets chopped off, young madam! Darren, I'm sorry your coach forced you to do those things.
You've just got to go to the police and report it to them.
- We only deal with children here.
- I was a child! And I did try to tell people about it at the time and no one! - No one listened! - Rose, Al's on line one for you.
We just don't have the resources to help you.
Have you thought about therapy? I don't want therapy.
- I want justice! - Sorry.
You'll just have to go to the police.
Ro Rose, it's urgent.
- OK, I'll just transfer you.
- Look, this isn't working.
- It's still caked in cack.
- Give it here, I'll put it back in.
- It really pongs! - How am I supposed to go home on the bus like this? - 'Hi Rose.
It's Al.
I need some advice.
' - Are you OK? - You sound shaky.
- I just got offered anal for 50 quid.
Are your kids have school holidays? No, went back last week.
I think all the local schools did.
- Why? - No, it's just that Branser kids are at home with their mum.
What? And she's seeing clients there? - Shit! Is there any sign of drugs? - She's not puffing on a crack pipe Al, this is Martin, you are the duty social worker.
Get a grip! - Martin? - I'm sending the police down there to remove the children under a PPO.
Once you have handed the children over to the police, I want you back here straightaway.
Thank you.
Rose, find out where the Branser children go to school.
And Greg, bring the headteacher in.
Right, let's get ready for an emergency child protection conference.
Chop-chop! - Is this really necessary? - What's going on? Can you at least tell me what have I done wrong? Please just get in the car.
What is this? I have the right to know.
Jesus, always weirds me out how fast you guys turn up.
The Elm Heath social services, right? Oh, God, know it well, mate.
Lee? What the fuck! Oh, bollocks, what are you doing round here? Don't tell Rose I picked you up.
Lee, mate, really, does she know you're using her car as an Uber? I'm just trying to earn a living.
- Where are you living? - Oh, didn't Rose say? Moved back in.
All right, so we all think it's all right for kids to hear mum and dad having miserable married sex, is it? Just not consensual sex for money.
And, by the way, it is not illegal for the mother to conduct her business at home.
Unless there's a pimp.
If there's a pimp, it's illegal.
- That's the law.
- Thanks for mansplaining that.
Mimi.
Shhh.
There's no evidence of any pimps or any abuse to the children.
Although the children were alone and gave you instant access to the flat, which is neglect.
Well, exactly, I need to conduct a full assessment of each child to determine the level of mental trauma.
They might not have suffered any trauma.
Not suffered any trauma? Their mam's a proz, banging punters and slapping arses while the kids watch cartoons.
Who called us about the Bransers? A neighbour on the estate.
He gave Tiara a lift home today and he was concerned How do you know Mr Nosy Neighbour's not a nonce? They're cunning, these paedos.
They're cunning enough to phone children's social services? It's probably a double bluff.
How long have the Bransers been in the local area? Been here for years, ever since Elena arrived from Romania.
Well, she's an illegal, of course.
They're all in the bloody game, them lot.
Send her back.
Thank you, Brexit.
Are you for real? No, h-he's a stripper off a hen night.
That was uncalled for.
The kids' dad is British.
They are UK citizens.
Look, I am sorry to be the one presenting the uncomfortable statistic, but children of sex workers are more likely to become sex workers.
Oh, my God, why are we all acting - like sex work is a negative profession? - Mimi, please.
- No, she's got a point.
- Really? Yeah.
It's far better to bang a prozzie than rape an innocent woman and, you know OK, th-that's not what I meant.
Don't write that down.
Elena Branser was sex trafficked from Bucharest at 14.
This is a child protection conference, Alastair, not an episode of Who Do You Think You Are? Get Martin to bring her in.
What? Miss Branser, it's important you understand your choice of profession is not under scrutiny today.
Uh, Marcus Bowles, headmaster.
Have a seat.
- Hello.
- Hello! - Sit down.
I'm so sorry.
Traffic from the airport was an absolute fiasco.
- Been anywhere nice? - Oh, just Tuscany.
Uh, we've got a little place.
Yeah, it's very rudimentary, but it's, um .
.
it's, uh, it's - So how can I help? - Well, you're familiar with Miss Branser, - Tiara and Bailey's mother? - Yeah.
Are you aware they are truanting? They've never truanted.
Well, they've not actually started at school yet.
Term doesn't begin for another week, so Mine are back, so are all the other schools round here.
Yes, well, we set our own calendar at Greybridge House.
Greybridge, er, the private co-ed? Yes, I worked with a couple of lovely bulimics there recently.
That's so weird, cos food's usually really nice at posh places.
Uh, sorry .
.
is there a problem? We are here to determine whether the children, especially Tiara, are at risk of CSE because their mother is an FSW.
Sorry, I'm a little bit rusty with the old acronyms.
CSE -- child sexual exploitation.
Er, FSW Hang on.
FSW -- female sex worker.
Sorry, so who's a sex worker? Ohhh.
OK.
Sweets? - No, thanks.
- We're not allowed to.
Stranger danger.
But I'm a social worker, so it's fine.
You can have a sweet.
- Go on.
- Oh, my God, you are totally weirding me out.
The children were only home because of the longer school holidays.
After next week, they won't even be there when I'm working.
Look, prostitution is not an acceptable occupation for a solo primary carer.
That's so whorephobic.
- Bitch fight.
- I'm a sex-positive feminist.
I don't believe that men want sex and women endure it.
Well, I have every sympathy with any young woman who's forced into a life of danger and penury, but where there are children involved Oh, don't go all I, Daniel Blake on us, mate.
Most of the girls we see are smacked off their tits anyway.
Slut-shamer.
But Denise, 38% of sex workers have a degree.
Where is that statistic from? I mean, who here hasn't had transactional sex - to pay their way through uni? - Oh, fuck off! - I haven't.
You know fuck all with your statistics.
- That's right.
- I'm not ashamed of what I do, OK? I also work on a zero-hours contract, cleaning filthy toilets in a hospital.
Is that acceptable? It's certainly not going to pay for my kids' education, is it? No, really Look, Elena, our only concern is for the safety of your children.
They are not at risk.
Look, we're told we intervene too often, sometimes too readily And what is your suggested alternative, Alastair? I'm all ears.
I promise you, the kids have seen nothing.
He knows that.
He's been in my massage room.
Just to clarify, I made a home visit and I was locked inside the, um .
.
sex room before she, Elena, realised that I was not a client.
Oh, well You dirty dog.
Oh, I have to go, I have a trans kid with a shank on a psych ward.
A lamb shank? Miss Branser, have your clients ever directly expressed sexual interest in either of your children, yes or no? No.
But, with the children on the premises, you have had paid intercourse.
Yes, but it's not even always intercourse.
One bloke just wants me to stamp on his cock.
Oh.
Right, well, I think it's best for now if we remove the children with immediate effect.
- No.
- Martin, please raise the child protection order.
- Please don't.
- Meeting adjourned.
- Please don't.
I am a good mother.
- It's just temporary.
- I-I can take care of my children.
- Elena - Tiara.
- What's happening? Listen to me.
It's OK.
Mum is going to come for you, understand? Mum is going to come back for you.
Come here, buddy.
Come here, buddy, don't be sad.
- Where are we going? - I'm sorry ~ Don't leave us.
- You'll see them soon.
- You take care of him.
Don't touch me! ~ Oh, hey.
- All got a bit intense in there, didn't it? - Yeah.
- Ah.
So where will they go now, the kids? They'll go to their grandmother's - til we determine the best course of action.
- Right.
Good.
But it shouldn't affect them starting in your school next week.
Right, so they Yeah, OK.
Well, you know, it's a bit awkward, actually, because, um, there has been a monumental cock-up.
See, I spoke to my secretary and we thought the Bransers were confirmed, but it turns out we've overestimated the number of sibling places available, so Sorry, I don't follow.
We'll be putting Bailey and Tiara back on the waiting list.
So you find out their mum's a sex worker and suddenly they're not good enough for Grey-fuckers House, is that it? Look, come on, don't be unpleasant.
You should be ashamed of yourself.
I have 600 other families to take into consideration.
Is that all? Well, it's been a twatter of a day and I for one was ready to get the hell out of Dodge, but like the diligent student that she is, Mimi's reminded me it's time to choose her mentor, so let the fun begin.
Yes, and thank you to everyone who filled out my questionnaire.
I think it was only Martin, wasn't it? I think Rose and Alastair couldn't be arsed and Ingrid, I disqualified her on the grounds that she's Ingrid, so well done, Martin! You got the job.
- Oh! - What? You may not have got the popular vote, but that's who you're having.
All right, who fancies a pint of wine? Not going to get back for your kids? Well, they're in semi-capable hands.
Why didn't you tell me Lee had moved back in? I thought you'd disapprove.
Do you know he gave me a lift today? A lift? But he hasn't got a car.
I know, that's why he's using your car in his new career as an Uber driver.
The little fucker.
'Hi, this is Lee's phone.
Do the thing.
Lee.
Rose.
You're dead.
People they ain't no good A thing that's well understood You can see it everywhere you look People just ain't no good At all