Dead Boss (2012) s01e03 Episode Script
Episode 3
1 I now sentence you to twelve years.
Objection! Too long? I didn't kill Eric Bridges! Tony Norman is no longer associated with Helen Stephens and her murder.
- Laura? What are you doing there? - I work here now.
You'll all be joining Fatty in solitary.
- Then it won't be solitary.
- Get out! I'm damned if I'm going to be thrown back on the case.
I'm starting up the lottery syndicate again.
- Mrs Bridges! - Yeah, that's right.
Good luck, goodbye.
God bless you on your way.
Good luck, goodbye.
That's all we have to say.
Dear Maurice, what a relief to receive your postcard from Death Row.
I was fearing the worst.
Coincidentally, my last pen pal was also electrocuted, but that's because her kite got caught in a pylon.
At least I think that's the translation.
My Spanish was quite limited.
Anyway, I'm afraid my news is of little cheer.
I'm still denied my basic human rights of freedom, dignity, and decent quality hair straighteners.
Each day I think of all I'm missing on the outside world as I watch another prisoner walk free.
Yeah, that's it, just go! Go see your family! You tell them what we did to each other every Tuesday for four years.
Tell me that didn't mean anything! I can still taste you! I can still taste you! I've always thought Miley Cyrus has an exceptionally punchable face, but she absolutely nailed it when she sang that thing about, you know, getting through it all and stuff.
Which is something I need to remember since my fiance and bloody alibi Justin is still missing, and my lawyer's announced he's now off my case.
But to be honest, good riddance.
What do you mean, you've been threatened back on the case? It doesn't matter.
What matters is that it was the kick up the arse I needed.
FFS, Tony! No, really.
I've applied for legal aid.
Forget it, Helen.
I'm back on the case.
- No, you're not.
- Yes, I am! - You can't represent me against my will.
- Yes, I bloody can.
- Get off my case, Tony.
I said, get off it.
- No! Oh, is that Justin? - Yes! I'm back on the case! - Do whatever you want but as far as I'm concerned, Tony, you're my ex-lawyer.
Look, I think we both know we could have done a lot of stuff better the first time.
I mean, that's the beauty of the appeal process, isn't it? Second chances all round! Let it be known that Tony Norman, Helen Stephens's lawyer, is back on the case.
Do you mind if I take this for my stepson? Thanks.
Get a wriggle on, Russell.
Chop chop! The van's waiting, yeah.
- Oh, are you going now? - I'm not going to cry.
Ugh, stop blubbing.
It's well unattractive.
It's only a week.
You are going to love Germany.
Think of all the prisoners the Governor could have picked for the prison exchange.
You're like an ambassador for British sociopaths! Oh, Helly, I'm going to miss you.
- Are you going to miss me? - Yeah.
- Really? - Course.
- Are you sure? - Of course I'll miss you.
- Say it.
- I'll miss you.
- Say it with my name.
- I'll miss you, Christine.
- Really? - Oh, let's wrap this up.
I'll bring you back a sausage.
The cell will be empty without you! It won't.
It's a prison exchange, we get one in return.
That's how an exchange works, you stupid cow.
You'll be babysitting Mrs Gertrude Wermers, 43-year-old widowed cannibal.
Oh, and Stephens, keep your toes tucked in bed tonight.
Otherwise HANNIBAL LECTER-STYLE SLURPING She's rather shy.
This is her first time away from the Mutterland and understandably, she's a little wary.
Moechtest du ping-pong spielen? - Nein.
- Ping-pong? - Nein.
- Ping-pong? Ja? I was asking her if she likes to play ping-pong, which naturally she does.
Ich sagte nein.
Stephens, I want you to give her a tour of the wing, point out all the views, show her where she can get a souvenir tattoo done, that sort of thing.
Give her a taste of the Great British Penal system.
Britain welcomes German cannibals.
Do you want to pop off and get processed? We have a very good relationship with our German counterparts at Wassenburg Prison.
Wouldn't want to screw that up.
So if anything happens to Gertrude, and I mean anything, your legal aid application will be carefully filed away.
Oh! So, this is the place I like to call my prison cell.
Mea casa, tua casa.
Is that German? - Er Mein kampf is your kampf.
- Is this some kind of joke? In Germany, we have shower cubicles bigger than this.
Hang on, I thought you didn't speak English? We are not lazy with our languages like you Brits.
I speak Irish, actually, and I know most of the words to that song, Encore Une Fois, so - I'm going to lie down now.
- That's my bunk.
Listen, lady, I don't know how to say this without sounding like I'm up my own asshole but in Germany, I'm kind of a big deal.
I've had seven crime books written about me.
They weren't that accurate, but the photos were flattering.
I'm, like, totally infamous.
So if I say I'm going to lie on that bunk, then that is what is going to happen.
Really? Well, I don't know how to say this either, but in this cell, I'm kind of a big deal.
So why don't you do us all a favour and get on the bunk that has been allocated to you as our guest! What's all the racket here? Oh, my God.
Officer Timothy Debben.
You must be Ich heisse Gertrude Wermers.
FRENCH ACCENT: Good Moaning.
Pleasure to meet you.
Do you speak English? Manchester United? That's adorable.
Well, Helen, I think you should do exactly what Gertrude wants.
We are her hosts, after all, and I shall see you in the canteen for some lunch, maybe? Do svidanya.
For now.
Why didn't you speak to him in English? In German prison, we have two rules.
With authority, keep your head down and your mouth shut.
With your girlfriend, keep your head down and your mouth open.
Ha ha, joke.
Now, if you don't mind, I don't want to hear a squeak out of you for the next hour.
I need complete silence to rest.
Not a peep! Bingo.
Can we have a bit of hush, please? I'd like to introduce the new managing director of Entirely Tiles.
You might know her as the wife of our dead boss, Eric Bridges.
Please welcome Mrs Elaine Bridges.
APPLAUSE Thank you all for coming to this meeting.
And thank you, Henry, for doing such a great job of stepping into my late husband's still warm shoes, without permission.
Such initiative.
As you know, the events of the last few months have shocked this company to the very core.
I've lost a husband, soulmate, badminton, tango and Bikram yoga partner, lover and sexual equal, and you have all lost an extremely adequate boss.
So I have decided that in order to honour my late husband's name, I am going to take on the mantle of this company.
APPLAUSE But in order to start afresh, some things will have to change.
Firstly, I've put a block on all personal emails, Facebook, Twitter, Bebo, LinkedIn, Myspace, googling and celebritydiets.
com Secondly, no staff discount.
You want tiles, you pay top dollar like everyone else.
And thirdly, I'm taking away the Nespresso machine.
This is a tiling firm, not a Starbucks.
From now on, it's this.
OK.
I think that's sorted.
Good morning.
Oh! A little birdie has told me some of the staff members have been visiting my husband's murderer in prison, so here's a new rule for you.
Anyone caught visiting or contacting Ms Stephens, in any way, is fired.
- I don't really visit her - You're fired.
I ate my husband's ball sack, and his meat wasn't as dry as this.
And he was 70 years old.
She'll have the carbonara.
Hi.
Get your nose out of my ass! What is this, The Human Centipede or something? Gertie, can I give you a piece of advice? I was the new girl here myself until recently and, I'm not saying I agree with everything that goes on in this place but I found that in order to gain respect, you have to earn respect.
Am I right? I don't have to respect these losers.
These women are mentally deficient.
Gertrude, you deep-fried your husband's feet.
You're not exactly the full brass band yourself.
That is where you are wrong.
I've been tested by the top psychologists in my country and every single one has found me to be 100% sane.
I'm in complete control of my mental faculties and I won't have anyone say anything to the contrary.
Excuse me.
Cover your mouth when you eat, you are contaminating my food.
My God, you are disgusting.
- What did you say? - Who wants pudding? You OK for pudding? You're OK for pudding.
Everyone's OK for pudding.
We'll go and get some pudding.
Oh, look, it's Angel Delight.
You're going to love this, Gertie.
It's a very famous British dessert.
It's so good, angels are delighted by it.
Right? What are you doing?? That's Top Dog's posse.
The last time someone stood up to Lennie, she left a tooth embedded in their forehead.
It wasn't even Lennie's tooth to begin with.
You have a Top Dog? That is so quaint! I actually heard that you had backward power systems in the UK, but I thought my friends were joking.
Listen to me, if anyone lays a finger on you, then I can kiss goodbye to my legal aid, OK? If not for me, then for your own teeth and kneecaps, shut your German pie-hole up! Gertrude! Ola! Ugh! I need you to go through these boxes of Eric's shit and sort them out.
I've got a Groupon for Zizzi's.
I'll be back about four.
Come on, Harvey.
I'm at a loose end, I'd love to help, if I can.
Oh, Eric.
Ah! "Dear diary, hope I don't get tiled to death today!" That is not funny, Henry.
I wonder if there's anything about me? What's this? This is the missing page from the lottery book.
- What's it doing in Eric's box? - What do you mean? What are you doing? How are you settling in, Wermers? I hope Stephens is taking care of your needs.
I'd love to see her taking care of some of your needs.
You got frisbee in Germany? Of course they have frisbee in Germany.
Oh, God, your hand stinks! It's all in the wrist.
Bit firmer, that's good.
Grip it hard.
Fast learner, Wermers.
Maybe we can practise a little later, eh? Oh, my God! I left my husband's body to decompose for three months and he didn't pong that bad.
And can you, like, not waft your smoke at me? It's so antisocial! Look, come on, let's play! Catch the frisbee! Seriously, do you know how horrible it is to - Oh, shit! - Oh my God, Gertrude! Is she all right? I didn't mean to! Please don't carefully file away my application! It's OK, it's OK.
Let's get you up now.
Danke schoen.
That's adorable.
I'll see you in your cell later, maybe? Oh, great.
Well, that's not how you play frisbee.
Get your filthy hands off me! Can you give it? Gertie? Shit! It's not nothing, Henry.
It looks like we got all the numbers that week.
It looks like we've won £930,000.
- Hell's Bells, Mary! - They fleeced us.
Helen ran that lottery, Eric knew about the win.
They took our money, Henry.
How could Eric do that to me? Us, to us.
- What are you doing? - I'm calling the police.
We need to talk.
- I'm still connected, Henry.
- Oh, cheeseballs.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Shiiiiit.
So, let's have a look at Fraulein Von Mouth-off.
Gertrude Wermers? Oh, my God, it's Gertrude Wermers! Finally, someone knows who I am! I don't believe it.
I've got, like, all your books.
Look.
Could I have it signed? No problem, it's great to touch base with the fans.
"Nice to eat you.
" Sweet.
Oh, can I have a photo? Sure.
- Oh, you want me Ha.
- Yeah.
OK.
I need to tell you something, Mary.
Can you stand a little less close? Thank you.
Well, in June, when Helen was on leave, you know she was going to that wedding fair near Liverpool to choose a dress.
- She'd have looked so pretty in taffeta fishtail - Get on with it.
Right, OK, well, Mr Bridges asked me to take over the lottery syndicate.
So, when I came in Thursday morning, the first thing I did was to check the numbers.
I was gobsmacked, Mary.
I went into Bridges' office, of course.
Amazing news.
We won the lottery! Yes! Look, check it! First thing he did was lock the door.
- Then he told me to - Sit down.
Don't you tell anyone about this.
But I want to tell everyone the good news, yes! If you breathe a word of this, I'll make sure you never work in tiles again! Then he poured himself a Disaronno.
I tried to tell him it was 8am, but he just stared at me with a crazed look in his eyes and said I couldn't give a monkey's flange! I'm a chuffing millionaire and I didn't think I'd be saying that again after my last divorce.
Why didn't you just let him fire you and have your share of the winnings, you bell-end? All my life, I've been dreaming of working in the tiling industry.
- Money can't buy you a job like this.
- So where's the money now? The only two people who knew about it were me and Bridges.
- What about Stephens? - Helen wasn't back until the week after, and by that time he'd covered his tracks.
- We'll see what the police have to say.
- Wait, Mary! What if the two of us found the money? He didn't put it in his account, I know that.
And he's definitely not spending it now, is he? So what do you say? That money belongs to the syndicate.
If a tree wins the lottery in a forest and nobody hears it, did it really win the lottery? What are you on about? The numbers were chosen randomly.
How can they ever miss it? Nice one, Sherlock.
Stop! Please, whatever she said, I'm sorry.
- Please, please don't harm her.
- Shhhhhhhhh.
Sorry about that.
Please continue, Gertrude.
Ahem.
"Chapter funf.
Eine dark night in hell.
" Oh, just so you know, they get so many details wrong in this chapter, but I'll read it for you anyway.
"As she had found out during the two months' training at the delicatessen, "the cheese wire was the strongest of all the cutting implements.
"After slicing through his knee cap like a soft ball of mozzarella, "she calmly ate him with a teaspoon of mint sauce.
" Now, that's inaccurate.
It's a very porky meat.
I always used to eat my husband with the apple sauce.
Ha, you crazy bitch.
What did you call me? I called you a crazy bitch.
You crazy bitch.
No-one, but no-one, calls Gertrude Wermers eine crazy bitch.
- Gertrude, I think - How dare you question my sanity? Do you sink these authors would write these books if I was just a crazy lady? No, they wouldn't.
That is the beauty of my story.
I'm just the girl next door who turned my husband's nostrils into pate.
And I will not have some jumped up playground bully say that Gertrude Wermers is unhinged.
So, take it back, you crazy bitch.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Scheisse, scheisse, scheisse, scheisse, scheisse, scheisse.
There better be a damn good reason why you've just barged in - to the Governor's office unannounced.
- There better be a damn good reason why Gertrude Wermers's safety has been compromised - in this scheisse hole.
- I see.
Stephens, perhaps you could shed some light on this? Last thing I remember was telling you she was entirely your responsibility.
Hang on! I've spent my entire day preventing this woman from being used as a human pinata! I have done everything in my power to keep her safe but the truth is, and I'm sorry to say this, but she's a dick! I will not be spoken about in these terms.
I can't believe the way I've been treated since I've been here.
This prison should be privileged to have me.
Broadmarsh Prison was voted number eight in Channel Five's Top 50 Best Prisons Ever of All Time, Ms Wermers.
Well, I've had not one, but two TV films made of my crime.
One was even a Christmas special.
So when this prison wins a GTVS, which is the equivalent of your BAFTA, then we can talk.
What the hell are you painting? Where's the perspective, woman? Your composition is a joke.
- Have you? - You look nice.
That grey sweatshirt really brightens your teeth.
Did you manage to find out anything about that address I gave you? - Mashta Fembwick? - Yes! No.
Sorry.
I'm actually really putting my neck on the line even being here.
Mrs Bridges put a ban on anyone visiting you.
But don't worry, I'm willing to take that risk.
For you.
What about Justin? Any leads? He wouldn't just leave me here to rot, Henry.
We were engaged.
I meant something to him.
What is that? Polish coal.
It's a semi-solid stone.
Right.
Thing is, Helen, I feel that if I knew a bit more about him, it might help me predict his movements better.
- What do you want to know? - I don't know, really, I suppose I mean, had you two been going out long? Nearly six months, on and off.
Engaged for two of those, on and off.
Do you mind if I? I'm just going to write this down.
- So, six months.
Nearly.
- Yeah.
And did he have any funny little habits or foibles? Well, he used to use the phrase 'apropos of nothing' a lot.
And did Justin have any nicknames for you, like Helly, or Hell's Bells? Did he appreciate it when you made an effort with your make-up? Would he listen to your voicemail messages over and over again just so he could hear the sound of your voice? Did he think about you all the time? Did he once get a pebble with your name painted on it, and then get paranoid and not give it to you? Would Justin have ever done that? You probably need some time to think about those.
BELL RINGS I'd better go.
Thanks for all the hours you're putting in on this.
- When I get out of here - Shhh.
We're not going to rush this, Helen.
We're going to get it right, OK? - I'll see you next week.
- OK.
I love that perfume you're wearing by the way, what is it? It's Vosene.
Wear it next time.
Makes you smell like the inside of a taxi.
Dear Maurice, if there's one thing I've learned from my time in prison, it's that when life knocks you down, like a Weeble, you have to come straight back up, also like a Weeble.
Saying that, I've never felt more homesick.
I'd give anything to be back in my slanket on the sofa watching Cash in the Attic.
Maybe I was a bit hasty telling Tony to piss the piss off.
DOORBELL RINGS Anyhoo, write soon.
Helen.
Oh, PS, I was born in 1974, which is the year of the tiger.
I don't think there is a year of the pussy in the Chinese calendar.
Who are you? I'm Laura.
Helen's sister.
Who are you? I'm Justin.
What are you doing in my flat? DOG BARKS
Objection! Too long? I didn't kill Eric Bridges! Tony Norman is no longer associated with Helen Stephens and her murder.
- Laura? What are you doing there? - I work here now.
You'll all be joining Fatty in solitary.
- Then it won't be solitary.
- Get out! I'm damned if I'm going to be thrown back on the case.
I'm starting up the lottery syndicate again.
- Mrs Bridges! - Yeah, that's right.
Good luck, goodbye.
God bless you on your way.
Good luck, goodbye.
That's all we have to say.
Dear Maurice, what a relief to receive your postcard from Death Row.
I was fearing the worst.
Coincidentally, my last pen pal was also electrocuted, but that's because her kite got caught in a pylon.
At least I think that's the translation.
My Spanish was quite limited.
Anyway, I'm afraid my news is of little cheer.
I'm still denied my basic human rights of freedom, dignity, and decent quality hair straighteners.
Each day I think of all I'm missing on the outside world as I watch another prisoner walk free.
Yeah, that's it, just go! Go see your family! You tell them what we did to each other every Tuesday for four years.
Tell me that didn't mean anything! I can still taste you! I can still taste you! I've always thought Miley Cyrus has an exceptionally punchable face, but she absolutely nailed it when she sang that thing about, you know, getting through it all and stuff.
Which is something I need to remember since my fiance and bloody alibi Justin is still missing, and my lawyer's announced he's now off my case.
But to be honest, good riddance.
What do you mean, you've been threatened back on the case? It doesn't matter.
What matters is that it was the kick up the arse I needed.
FFS, Tony! No, really.
I've applied for legal aid.
Forget it, Helen.
I'm back on the case.
- No, you're not.
- Yes, I am! - You can't represent me against my will.
- Yes, I bloody can.
- Get off my case, Tony.
I said, get off it.
- No! Oh, is that Justin? - Yes! I'm back on the case! - Do whatever you want but as far as I'm concerned, Tony, you're my ex-lawyer.
Look, I think we both know we could have done a lot of stuff better the first time.
I mean, that's the beauty of the appeal process, isn't it? Second chances all round! Let it be known that Tony Norman, Helen Stephens's lawyer, is back on the case.
Do you mind if I take this for my stepson? Thanks.
Get a wriggle on, Russell.
Chop chop! The van's waiting, yeah.
- Oh, are you going now? - I'm not going to cry.
Ugh, stop blubbing.
It's well unattractive.
It's only a week.
You are going to love Germany.
Think of all the prisoners the Governor could have picked for the prison exchange.
You're like an ambassador for British sociopaths! Oh, Helly, I'm going to miss you.
- Are you going to miss me? - Yeah.
- Really? - Course.
- Are you sure? - Of course I'll miss you.
- Say it.
- I'll miss you.
- Say it with my name.
- I'll miss you, Christine.
- Really? - Oh, let's wrap this up.
I'll bring you back a sausage.
The cell will be empty without you! It won't.
It's a prison exchange, we get one in return.
That's how an exchange works, you stupid cow.
You'll be babysitting Mrs Gertrude Wermers, 43-year-old widowed cannibal.
Oh, and Stephens, keep your toes tucked in bed tonight.
Otherwise HANNIBAL LECTER-STYLE SLURPING She's rather shy.
This is her first time away from the Mutterland and understandably, she's a little wary.
Moechtest du ping-pong spielen? - Nein.
- Ping-pong? - Nein.
- Ping-pong? Ja? I was asking her if she likes to play ping-pong, which naturally she does.
Ich sagte nein.
Stephens, I want you to give her a tour of the wing, point out all the views, show her where she can get a souvenir tattoo done, that sort of thing.
Give her a taste of the Great British Penal system.
Britain welcomes German cannibals.
Do you want to pop off and get processed? We have a very good relationship with our German counterparts at Wassenburg Prison.
Wouldn't want to screw that up.
So if anything happens to Gertrude, and I mean anything, your legal aid application will be carefully filed away.
Oh! So, this is the place I like to call my prison cell.
Mea casa, tua casa.
Is that German? - Er Mein kampf is your kampf.
- Is this some kind of joke? In Germany, we have shower cubicles bigger than this.
Hang on, I thought you didn't speak English? We are not lazy with our languages like you Brits.
I speak Irish, actually, and I know most of the words to that song, Encore Une Fois, so - I'm going to lie down now.
- That's my bunk.
Listen, lady, I don't know how to say this without sounding like I'm up my own asshole but in Germany, I'm kind of a big deal.
I've had seven crime books written about me.
They weren't that accurate, but the photos were flattering.
I'm, like, totally infamous.
So if I say I'm going to lie on that bunk, then that is what is going to happen.
Really? Well, I don't know how to say this either, but in this cell, I'm kind of a big deal.
So why don't you do us all a favour and get on the bunk that has been allocated to you as our guest! What's all the racket here? Oh, my God.
Officer Timothy Debben.
You must be Ich heisse Gertrude Wermers.
FRENCH ACCENT: Good Moaning.
Pleasure to meet you.
Do you speak English? Manchester United? That's adorable.
Well, Helen, I think you should do exactly what Gertrude wants.
We are her hosts, after all, and I shall see you in the canteen for some lunch, maybe? Do svidanya.
For now.
Why didn't you speak to him in English? In German prison, we have two rules.
With authority, keep your head down and your mouth shut.
With your girlfriend, keep your head down and your mouth open.
Ha ha, joke.
Now, if you don't mind, I don't want to hear a squeak out of you for the next hour.
I need complete silence to rest.
Not a peep! Bingo.
Can we have a bit of hush, please? I'd like to introduce the new managing director of Entirely Tiles.
You might know her as the wife of our dead boss, Eric Bridges.
Please welcome Mrs Elaine Bridges.
APPLAUSE Thank you all for coming to this meeting.
And thank you, Henry, for doing such a great job of stepping into my late husband's still warm shoes, without permission.
Such initiative.
As you know, the events of the last few months have shocked this company to the very core.
I've lost a husband, soulmate, badminton, tango and Bikram yoga partner, lover and sexual equal, and you have all lost an extremely adequate boss.
So I have decided that in order to honour my late husband's name, I am going to take on the mantle of this company.
APPLAUSE But in order to start afresh, some things will have to change.
Firstly, I've put a block on all personal emails, Facebook, Twitter, Bebo, LinkedIn, Myspace, googling and celebritydiets.
com Secondly, no staff discount.
You want tiles, you pay top dollar like everyone else.
And thirdly, I'm taking away the Nespresso machine.
This is a tiling firm, not a Starbucks.
From now on, it's this.
OK.
I think that's sorted.
Good morning.
Oh! A little birdie has told me some of the staff members have been visiting my husband's murderer in prison, so here's a new rule for you.
Anyone caught visiting or contacting Ms Stephens, in any way, is fired.
- I don't really visit her - You're fired.
I ate my husband's ball sack, and his meat wasn't as dry as this.
And he was 70 years old.
She'll have the carbonara.
Hi.
Get your nose out of my ass! What is this, The Human Centipede or something? Gertie, can I give you a piece of advice? I was the new girl here myself until recently and, I'm not saying I agree with everything that goes on in this place but I found that in order to gain respect, you have to earn respect.
Am I right? I don't have to respect these losers.
These women are mentally deficient.
Gertrude, you deep-fried your husband's feet.
You're not exactly the full brass band yourself.
That is where you are wrong.
I've been tested by the top psychologists in my country and every single one has found me to be 100% sane.
I'm in complete control of my mental faculties and I won't have anyone say anything to the contrary.
Excuse me.
Cover your mouth when you eat, you are contaminating my food.
My God, you are disgusting.
- What did you say? - Who wants pudding? You OK for pudding? You're OK for pudding.
Everyone's OK for pudding.
We'll go and get some pudding.
Oh, look, it's Angel Delight.
You're going to love this, Gertie.
It's a very famous British dessert.
It's so good, angels are delighted by it.
Right? What are you doing?? That's Top Dog's posse.
The last time someone stood up to Lennie, she left a tooth embedded in their forehead.
It wasn't even Lennie's tooth to begin with.
You have a Top Dog? That is so quaint! I actually heard that you had backward power systems in the UK, but I thought my friends were joking.
Listen to me, if anyone lays a finger on you, then I can kiss goodbye to my legal aid, OK? If not for me, then for your own teeth and kneecaps, shut your German pie-hole up! Gertrude! Ola! Ugh! I need you to go through these boxes of Eric's shit and sort them out.
I've got a Groupon for Zizzi's.
I'll be back about four.
Come on, Harvey.
I'm at a loose end, I'd love to help, if I can.
Oh, Eric.
Ah! "Dear diary, hope I don't get tiled to death today!" That is not funny, Henry.
I wonder if there's anything about me? What's this? This is the missing page from the lottery book.
- What's it doing in Eric's box? - What do you mean? What are you doing? How are you settling in, Wermers? I hope Stephens is taking care of your needs.
I'd love to see her taking care of some of your needs.
You got frisbee in Germany? Of course they have frisbee in Germany.
Oh, God, your hand stinks! It's all in the wrist.
Bit firmer, that's good.
Grip it hard.
Fast learner, Wermers.
Maybe we can practise a little later, eh? Oh, my God! I left my husband's body to decompose for three months and he didn't pong that bad.
And can you, like, not waft your smoke at me? It's so antisocial! Look, come on, let's play! Catch the frisbee! Seriously, do you know how horrible it is to - Oh, shit! - Oh my God, Gertrude! Is she all right? I didn't mean to! Please don't carefully file away my application! It's OK, it's OK.
Let's get you up now.
Danke schoen.
That's adorable.
I'll see you in your cell later, maybe? Oh, great.
Well, that's not how you play frisbee.
Get your filthy hands off me! Can you give it? Gertie? Shit! It's not nothing, Henry.
It looks like we got all the numbers that week.
It looks like we've won £930,000.
- Hell's Bells, Mary! - They fleeced us.
Helen ran that lottery, Eric knew about the win.
They took our money, Henry.
How could Eric do that to me? Us, to us.
- What are you doing? - I'm calling the police.
We need to talk.
- I'm still connected, Henry.
- Oh, cheeseballs.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Shiiiiit.
So, let's have a look at Fraulein Von Mouth-off.
Gertrude Wermers? Oh, my God, it's Gertrude Wermers! Finally, someone knows who I am! I don't believe it.
I've got, like, all your books.
Look.
Could I have it signed? No problem, it's great to touch base with the fans.
"Nice to eat you.
" Sweet.
Oh, can I have a photo? Sure.
- Oh, you want me Ha.
- Yeah.
OK.
I need to tell you something, Mary.
Can you stand a little less close? Thank you.
Well, in June, when Helen was on leave, you know she was going to that wedding fair near Liverpool to choose a dress.
- She'd have looked so pretty in taffeta fishtail - Get on with it.
Right, OK, well, Mr Bridges asked me to take over the lottery syndicate.
So, when I came in Thursday morning, the first thing I did was to check the numbers.
I was gobsmacked, Mary.
I went into Bridges' office, of course.
Amazing news.
We won the lottery! Yes! Look, check it! First thing he did was lock the door.
- Then he told me to - Sit down.
Don't you tell anyone about this.
But I want to tell everyone the good news, yes! If you breathe a word of this, I'll make sure you never work in tiles again! Then he poured himself a Disaronno.
I tried to tell him it was 8am, but he just stared at me with a crazed look in his eyes and said I couldn't give a monkey's flange! I'm a chuffing millionaire and I didn't think I'd be saying that again after my last divorce.
Why didn't you just let him fire you and have your share of the winnings, you bell-end? All my life, I've been dreaming of working in the tiling industry.
- Money can't buy you a job like this.
- So where's the money now? The only two people who knew about it were me and Bridges.
- What about Stephens? - Helen wasn't back until the week after, and by that time he'd covered his tracks.
- We'll see what the police have to say.
- Wait, Mary! What if the two of us found the money? He didn't put it in his account, I know that.
And he's definitely not spending it now, is he? So what do you say? That money belongs to the syndicate.
If a tree wins the lottery in a forest and nobody hears it, did it really win the lottery? What are you on about? The numbers were chosen randomly.
How can they ever miss it? Nice one, Sherlock.
Stop! Please, whatever she said, I'm sorry.
- Please, please don't harm her.
- Shhhhhhhhh.
Sorry about that.
Please continue, Gertrude.
Ahem.
"Chapter funf.
Eine dark night in hell.
" Oh, just so you know, they get so many details wrong in this chapter, but I'll read it for you anyway.
"As she had found out during the two months' training at the delicatessen, "the cheese wire was the strongest of all the cutting implements.
"After slicing through his knee cap like a soft ball of mozzarella, "she calmly ate him with a teaspoon of mint sauce.
" Now, that's inaccurate.
It's a very porky meat.
I always used to eat my husband with the apple sauce.
Ha, you crazy bitch.
What did you call me? I called you a crazy bitch.
You crazy bitch.
No-one, but no-one, calls Gertrude Wermers eine crazy bitch.
- Gertrude, I think - How dare you question my sanity? Do you sink these authors would write these books if I was just a crazy lady? No, they wouldn't.
That is the beauty of my story.
I'm just the girl next door who turned my husband's nostrils into pate.
And I will not have some jumped up playground bully say that Gertrude Wermers is unhinged.
So, take it back, you crazy bitch.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Scheisse, scheisse, scheisse, scheisse, scheisse, scheisse.
There better be a damn good reason why you've just barged in - to the Governor's office unannounced.
- There better be a damn good reason why Gertrude Wermers's safety has been compromised - in this scheisse hole.
- I see.
Stephens, perhaps you could shed some light on this? Last thing I remember was telling you she was entirely your responsibility.
Hang on! I've spent my entire day preventing this woman from being used as a human pinata! I have done everything in my power to keep her safe but the truth is, and I'm sorry to say this, but she's a dick! I will not be spoken about in these terms.
I can't believe the way I've been treated since I've been here.
This prison should be privileged to have me.
Broadmarsh Prison was voted number eight in Channel Five's Top 50 Best Prisons Ever of All Time, Ms Wermers.
Well, I've had not one, but two TV films made of my crime.
One was even a Christmas special.
So when this prison wins a GTVS, which is the equivalent of your BAFTA, then we can talk.
What the hell are you painting? Where's the perspective, woman? Your composition is a joke.
- Have you? - You look nice.
That grey sweatshirt really brightens your teeth.
Did you manage to find out anything about that address I gave you? - Mashta Fembwick? - Yes! No.
Sorry.
I'm actually really putting my neck on the line even being here.
Mrs Bridges put a ban on anyone visiting you.
But don't worry, I'm willing to take that risk.
For you.
What about Justin? Any leads? He wouldn't just leave me here to rot, Henry.
We were engaged.
I meant something to him.
What is that? Polish coal.
It's a semi-solid stone.
Right.
Thing is, Helen, I feel that if I knew a bit more about him, it might help me predict his movements better.
- What do you want to know? - I don't know, really, I suppose I mean, had you two been going out long? Nearly six months, on and off.
Engaged for two of those, on and off.
Do you mind if I? I'm just going to write this down.
- So, six months.
Nearly.
- Yeah.
And did he have any funny little habits or foibles? Well, he used to use the phrase 'apropos of nothing' a lot.
And did Justin have any nicknames for you, like Helly, or Hell's Bells? Did he appreciate it when you made an effort with your make-up? Would he listen to your voicemail messages over and over again just so he could hear the sound of your voice? Did he think about you all the time? Did he once get a pebble with your name painted on it, and then get paranoid and not give it to you? Would Justin have ever done that? You probably need some time to think about those.
BELL RINGS I'd better go.
Thanks for all the hours you're putting in on this.
- When I get out of here - Shhh.
We're not going to rush this, Helen.
We're going to get it right, OK? - I'll see you next week.
- OK.
I love that perfume you're wearing by the way, what is it? It's Vosene.
Wear it next time.
Makes you smell like the inside of a taxi.
Dear Maurice, if there's one thing I've learned from my time in prison, it's that when life knocks you down, like a Weeble, you have to come straight back up, also like a Weeble.
Saying that, I've never felt more homesick.
I'd give anything to be back in my slanket on the sofa watching Cash in the Attic.
Maybe I was a bit hasty telling Tony to piss the piss off.
DOORBELL RINGS Anyhoo, write soon.
Helen.
Oh, PS, I was born in 1974, which is the year of the tiger.
I don't think there is a year of the pussy in the Chinese calendar.
Who are you? I'm Laura.
Helen's sister.
Who are you? I'm Justin.
What are you doing in my flat? DOG BARKS