FEMALE VO: The following program contains content which may not be suitable for all audiences.

Viewer discretion is advised.

[phone rings] [deep breath] [distant siren blaring] [soft pensive music] [phone stops ringing] [children laughing] [background chatter and laughter] [gasps] ["I Close My Eyes and Count to Ten" by Dusty Springfield] ♪ It isn't the way that you look ♪ ♪ And it isn't the way that you talk ♪ ♪ It isn't the things that you say or do ♪ ♪ Make me want you so ♪♪ ♪ It has nothing to do with the wine ♪ ♪ Or the music that's floodin' my mind ♪ ♪ But never before have I been so sure ♪♪ ♪ You're the someone I dreamed I would find ♪♪ ♪ It's the way you make me feel ♪ ♪ The moment I am close to you ♪♪ ♪ It's a feelin' so unreal ♪ ♪ Somehow I can't believe it's true ♪♪ [music stops] **** up, Dusty.

[explosions & screaming on TV] [slow melancholic music] [background chatter] You alright, Fidel, you alright, Minty?

Cushla.

What's the craic, yous all good?

- How's the form?

- Good.

Are ya trying to rub their Proddy noses in it?

NEWS ANCHOR ON TV: ...the younger generation now taking part in stone throwing.

Catholic youths battled across the so-called Peace Wall... There's no wall high enough.

No offense, Eamonn.

None taken, Fidel.

Nothing beats a wee taste of Lifebuoy.

With a dishcloth.

[background chatter and laughter] NEWS ANCHOR:...to gauge public opinion on streaking after a recent incident... Barry's had his beard trimmed.

Makes his forehead look big.

There's a man with too much time on his hands.

EAMONN: State of that.

I think it's ridiculous.

In the first place, it's far too cold.

Might you be up for a bit of that, Cushla?

What about you, Minty?

Could buff up your big belly and have it shining like a full moon.

You'd be a celestial wonder.

Two moons, front and back.

[laughter] EAMONN: It's been a good wee while, Michael.

Eamonn.

How are you?

Belfast too hot for you?

(under his breath) Judas bastard.

What can I get you?

MICHAEL: I'll have a Jameson please.

Take a seat by the fire and I'll bring it over.

No, I'm comfortable here at the bar.

EAMONN: Alright there?

What's it to be?

Thank you.

SOLDIER: Go on then, pretty boy.

I thought you were a mad bastard.

Glass!

Glass!

Glass!

[pounding on table] [laughter] Oh, you're a ******* mad *****.

[laughs] - SOLDIER: Wash that mouth out.

- Jesus!

[laughter] Man down.

You alright?

Hey!

Oh... Calm down, Jones.

- What?!

- You know what.

JONES: Great arse.

HARRIS: That's her brother up there.

Watch yourself.

Did you see what that soldier just did?

No.

Yeah, you did, you liar.

Call the barracks.

I'm calling no one.

Call the barracks now.

Mummy'd do it if she was here.

Daddy knew better.

Head down.

Mouth shut.

Bar open.

[tapping] Four lagers.

JONES: Nice view.

Old man, she's pretending she can't hear me.

Perhaps because you're humiliating her.

JONES: Come on, mate.

Just having a laugh.

[laughs] Ah, humor is most effective when it's mutual.

Take him home, lads.

Come on, back to the barracks with ye.

Hey, come on.

Let's go.

Alright, alright.

Come on then.

Let's go.

Sorry.

FIDEL: Staying for another one, lads?

[bottles jangle] Could you throw another in there for me, please?

Would you like one yourself?

I'm teaching in the morning.

Thank you though.

[TV playing] Helen Mirren's put to poor use in this, in my opinion... and McDowell, he's been pigeonholed since Clockwork Orange.

I couldn't finish that book, never mind the film.

MICHAEL: The film's beautiful, even the violence is exquisite.

He wrote that book after his wife had been attacked by soldiers.

He turned his suffering into art.

I'd rather art without the suffering.

I'm sure his wife would too.

Can you have one without the other?

[laughs] God, what are you?

An artist?

[both laugh] MICHAEL: No... but they do say that all barristers are frustrated actors.

Ah.

[Michael chuckles] [bright hopeful music] [keys jangle] - [TV playing] - [door opens] CUSHLA: ***** Christ, Ma!

The curtains open for the whole world to see!

Sure.

Who'd waste a bullet on me?

I'm gonna come in one day and find you burnt to a crisp.

- You wish.

- [TV turns off] CUSHLA: Right, come on.

Uh, oh... Were yous busy?

CUSHLA: Yep.

The usual.

And some soldiers.

Scum.

You missed a career as a fire safety officer.

- And a man... - Mm?

- Michael.

- Ah... In his forties.

Dark.

Awfully, awfully.

Oh, Michael Agnew?

There is a blast from the past.

A posh Prod.

Lives in one of them big houses up on the hill.

- You know him?

- Aye.

He used to come into the bar a fair bit years ago.

Your daddy liked him.

He was good craic, kept his politics at home back then... Christ, I hope he doesn't bring trouble in on Eamonn.

How do you mean?

He upsets his Proddy lot by defending some of our lads.

Aye.

He was gorgeous back then.

He'd charm the knickers off you.

Well, from what I hear, the wife's a sorry story.

Sorry how?

Fond of the drink.

Fond of the drink, is she?

- God bless her.

- Aye.

Right, let's get you to bed.

Yeah.

- One, two, three... - Ah.

Up we go.

There you are.

Come on, you.

Slowly.

CUSHLA: And finally, Bríd Quinn.

Okay.

How about a wee story before assembly?

What about news, Miss?

Okay.

A quick news.

Who's first?

There was a bomb in Belfast.

He says that every day.

Well, today, he's right.

Thank you.

It wasn't in Belfast.

It was an incendiary device intended for the British Army, planted near the border by the INLA but exploded prematurely, killing two boys.

What's the INLA, Miss?

Irish National Liberation Army.

Sean, you could be on Mastermind .

Chosen subject: Acronyms of The Troubles.

There was a thing about streaking.

- There was.

- [class giggles] ZOE: You're blushing, Miss!

She's scundered thinking of them streakers in the nude!

[class laughs] CUSHLA: Excuse me!

Everything in hand, Ms.

Lavery?

Sit down!

What age are you?

Eight.

I'll tell you a story about an eight-year-old.

And you'd better be listening most of all, Davy McGeown.

Living in that Protestant estate.

Surrounded by them.

The wee Catholic girl went out on a message for her Mommy.

A gang of Protestant men pulled her into an entry... [school bell ringing] Okay.

That's the bell.

Assembly everyone.

Let's go.

Come on.

Your smelly lot... Shut up!

Come on, Zoe, let's go.

["Rock Me Gently" by Andy Kim] ♪ Ain't it good, ain't it right ♪ ♪ That you are with me here tonight ♪ ♪ Music playing, our bodies swaying in time ♪ ♪ Rock me gently, rock me slowly ♪ ♪ Take it easy, don't you know ♪ ♪ That I have never been loved like this before ♪ ♪ Baby, baby, rock me gently, rock me slowly ♪ Mommy!

Mommy, I'm gonna be late for my shift!

Mommy?

RADIO PRESENTER: ...believed to be engaged to a British soldier, was tied to a lamppost and tarred and feathered... Come on, Mommy.

Up to bed.

Let's go.

[grunts] - Mommy... - [snoring] [sighs] For ****'* sake, Mommy!

[grunts] [sighs] [thud] [grunts] [lightly snoring] I can't just leave her on the floor in this state.

EAMONN: Cushla... Eamonn, she's getting worse.

EAMONN: I have to go.

There's a few in.

The scum are acting up again.

Oh, right.

Who's there?

EAMONN: The usual, and Michael, your "hero" from last night.

[telephone clinks] [sighs] [car engine starts] [background chatter] CUSHLA: (whispers) Davy!

You okay?

- Yeah.

- Let's get you inside.

You're soaked to the skin.

Davy McGeown, where's your coat?

I forgot it.

Go and get settled for me.

And tell your Protestant mother, we Catholics look after our children!

Mixed marriages are an abomination.

A watched kettle.

[laughs] Does actually boil.

Mm.

How's your morning going?

Father Slattery was in with another horrific story.

Ugh.

I get the guitar out when I see him coming.

Drowns him out.

Not even he deserves that.

[both chuckle] Do you remember Louise?

Taught P3 last term before they fired her.

She's working in a shoe shop in Wolverhampton now.

CUSHLA: Did the fella go with her?

Course not.

He's still here with his wife.

All forgiven.

[scoffs] What sort of shriveled soul would write to the Bishop about someone else's love life?

GERRY: You know what this place is like.

Do you wanna come to a party on Saturday night in Belfast?

My housemate's moving out.

Alright, go on, Gerry.

It's better than watching the Generation Game with my mommy.

CUSHLA: (whispers) Davy!

DAVY: (imitating Bradley) Davy McGeown!

Is it getting into cars with strangers you are?

You of all people better watch yourself!

[giggles] - Turn in here.

- Mm-hmm.

DAVY: We're down the back.

Like cornered rats, our Tommy says.

Stink of Fenian scum off you.

DAVY: There's our Tommy.

CUSHLA: Shall I stop for him?

DAVY: Sure, he's home now.

Shut up, you Orange bastards.

You got a problem, mate?

There's Mummy and Mandy.

Look, his wee mommy out to protect him.

What did I tell you about a coat?

My head's like a sieve.

Ah, I'd better go on.

I'm gonna be late.

Thanks for bringing him home.

Come on, in.

For your tea.

Go on.

And you Tommy, please.

[engine starts] [sniffs] **** off back to Taigland!

- [thudding] - [gasps] - GERRY: Hiya.

- Hi.

Oh, Jesus.

GERRY: What?

I'm Gina.

How are you?

I'm Gerry.

- And where are you from, Gerry?

- Er... Okay, we actually don't have time for, um, 'Who's Your Granny?'

because we're due in Belfast now.

Excuse me, if your Mommy wants to meet the man who's taking you off into the night!

All you want to know is - is he Catholic and is he single?

And he is, and he is.

So, let's go.

Er, I'll call in next time, Mrs.

Lavery.

Better you knock on my door than me knock at your window.

I'm sorry about her.

Scundered.

[both laugh] You needn't have picked me up, Gerry.

I could have got the train.

Ach, I don't mind.

Besides, you would have missed this!

[upbeat traditional Irish folk music] [whistles to the music] [laughs] [whistles and hums] - Yeah!

- [both laugh] [indistinct police radio] Where you going?

A party.

SOLDIER: I want an address.

Why?

Do you wanna come?

Looks like we've got a comedian here.

No, we're going to St.

Paul's Terrace.

SOLDIER: Step out.

To the wall.

You've the warpaint on, sweetheart.

We're going to a party.

Spread your legs.

Your boyfriend on a promise?

No.

You're teasing him then?

Go on.

You're a *****-tease.

[trembling breaths] [engine cranks] [engine starts] Hello!

Well, what's the craic?

The size of you!

[laughs] Cheeky ******!

GERRY: Joe, Harry.

This is Cushla from school I told yous about.

Nice to meet you.

What happened?

Er... checkpoint.

HARRY: The bastards.

You wouldn't have many soldiers over your way, I suppose.

Sure, the barracks is out by us.

Doesn't she feed and water them?

Her people have a pub.

Hardly a pub left up our way.

HARRY: Aye, just the ones that haven't been blown up.

Yet.

They'll not bother with yours.

Actually, my brother stands behind the bar every night afraid to open his mouth in case he offends somebody and ends up on a loyalist hit list.

But he did load me up with some out-of- date cider.

So... Nothing we can't endure.

Like Gerry's guitar playing.

[Harry & Joe laugh] Yes!

She's absolutely done you there!

GERRY: I thought you liked it.

JOE: She's not wrong, like.

♪ Back through the glen, I rode again ♪ ♪ My heart with grief was sore ♪ ♪ For I parted with those valiant men... ♪ (whispers) I'm going to the bathroom.

♪ Whom I'll never see no more ♪ ♪ For to and fro in my dreams I go ♪ ♪ And I kneel and I pray for you... ♪ [woman giggles] [slow romantic music] [door opens] MAN: Alright?

I hope you had a good night.

I had a great night.

It's nice to get out.

- [thud] - Uh!

Sorry!

Sorry.

No, I... - I thought... - ****.

Erm... - I thought, you know... - No, I know.

Just... no, Gerry.

Sorry.

Er... Uh... Is this us done then?

I mean, we could still go out.

Well... I'd be happy with that.

Me too.

I need a life.

Jesus, I can't promise you a life, Cushla.

- [both chuckle] - Just the odd outing.

I'll take it.

[giggles] [TV playing in background] Did yous have a nice night?

Grand.

Gerry's a good sport.

...prose, in the dead language of... Your man was in the paper tonight.

In his frock and wig.

Who?

Michael Agnew.

Banging on about police brutality again.

He'll not do himself any favors, saying things like that out loud.

It's brave of him.

GINA: Brave or reckless.

He should know to keep his mouth shut.

[phone rings] EAMONN: The Anchor.

Hi, Eamonn.

It's me.

You can put me down for some shifts.

EAMONN: Oh, aye?

How many, like?

Say three for now.

EAMONN: That'd be great.

I need you tomorrow night.

Why the sudden urge to help?

Because if I stay in with Mommy, I might actually kill her.

EAMONN: [laughs] Thanks, Cushla.

Nightie, night.

CUSHLA: Night.

[clink] BRADLEY: I have called this emergency assembly because the father of one of our pupils is in hospital.

The best thing we can do now is say a wee prayer.

Davy McGeown's father was left for dead by a loyalist gang last night.

Mr.

McGeown was a good Catholic man who made the mistake of marrying the enemy.

But even though Mr.

McGeown brought this on himself, these loyalist murder gangs are hungry for all Catholic blood.

Your daddies could be next!

Will we sing a wee song?

- CHILDREN: Yeah!

- Yeah.

Come on.

[mellow music] ♪ Drowning in bullets and bombs ♪ [clapping] GERRY: ♪ Stacking up wrong after wrong ♪♪ ♪ Where will this bloody fight end?

♪ ♪ If we don't learn to make amends ♪ ALL: ♪ Take away the hate and violence ♪ ♪ Bring love into our hearts ♪ ♪♪ Take away the hate and violence ♪ ♪ Let's finally give peace a head start ♪ Alright, enough.

Here... ♪ Sirens, they wail through the night ♪ Fingers on lips.

Good man.

Erin, will you wait at the door for me, please?

- ERIN: Okay.

- Thank you.

Lovely.

Fair play Gerry Harkin.

You're the only one with the balls to stand up to that lunatic.

Thank you for your expert clapping.

[laughs] Do you think I should go round the McGeowns?

Give them a wee while I'd say.

Oh, here... What about another wee trip to Belfast on Friday?

The theater.

I promise not to lob the gob this time.

- Theater?

- Mm.

Aye, go on.

Aren't we awfully awfully?

[both laugh] [chattering] I'm sorry.

There you are.

[soft chuckle] Erm, Penny, Jim, this is Cushla.

- Hello.

- Hello.

JIM: Right, shall I get us a drink?

Ah, that'd be great.

Cushla?

My friend's actually getting me one.

So, how do you two know each other?

Well, I know everybody.

[laughs] Alright.

Gerry, this is Michael Agnew, and his friend, Penny.

Gerry... How's about yous?

Hello.

Well, I hope you enjoy the show.

I'm surprised to see you here, Michael.

MICHAEL: Hi, Victor.

VICTOR: Thought you'd gone underground.

MICHAEL: Why?

**** Special Branch.

[theater bell] VICTOR: Do you wanna say that louder so everyone can hear?

MICHAEL: I've got one extra.

[soft chuckle] Are you enjoying the play?

It's sad.

I, erm, I like the way he calls the, the town Ballybeg.

Small town.

Do you speak Irish?

Yeah.

From school and teacher training.

And you've got an Irish name.

Yeah.

A made-up one from a song.

A chuisle mo chroí.

The pulse of my heart.

[sighs] That's, that's beautiful.

A chuisle mo chroí.

(whispering) My friends and I are trying to learn Irish.

We meet at Penny and Jim's house.

Will you come and teach us sometime?

Alright?

- Gerry.

- [chuckles] Hi.

Sorry.

Bye.

I'll drink that as well.

[laughs] It's a nice set, isn't it?

GERRY: Yeah.

Really good.

The actor playing S.B.

is breaking my heart.

CUSHLA: Yeah.

CUSHLA: Why would Special Branch be interested in Michael Agnew?

They think he's a traitor, defending young IRA lads and banging on about police brutality.

And does he defend them?

No!

Just some of our young stone throwers.

Tries to talk them out of joining, gets them to recognize the courts.

Which makes him a "willing agent of the evil system," so the RA hate him, and the Peelers hate him.

And even his own Proddy lot hate him.

Poor ******.

You can't win in this place.

Aye, he's alright... but I'd not take a drink off him.

[church bells tolling] Ah, look who it is.

How are you?

- You're looking gorgeous.

- Thank you.

CUSHLA: Davy tells me you're doing English for your A levels?

What texts are you reading?

Passage to India.

And The Woodlanders.

Have you read Jude the Obscure?

- Is it good?

- Oh, it's the best.

I didn't pick up another book for months after.

I can't get to the library till Daddy's home.

I can loan you my copy.

How's your Daddy doing?

(quietly) He's got a fractured skull.

Both legs broken.

Cracked rib.

Collapsed lung.

Ruptured spleen.

Those Proddy bastards slashed his hands and wrists with a nail hammered into a plank.

Look, why don't you take my number and you can give me a call if you need anything?

Alright.

Er, what's the number?

4-2-8-7-6.

That's his wee poem book.

- [laughter] - Give over.

Hello, Mrs.

Lavery.

Alright, Davy.

Daddy was beat up for loving my mommy.

Hey!

He's still in hospital.

Aye.

I heard.

Terrible carry on.

Stop in home.

I've got a wee something for Mrs.

McGeown.

Mummy!

Mrs.

Lavery's here.

Hi, Betty.

I brought you a wee pie.

Sorry, Betty.

Alright, fellas.

Where were we?

Oh, you could hang those outside.

The neighbors keep cutting down our washing line.

They throw dog ***** over the fence.

- Ah, Jesus!

- TOMMY: You're a wee dog *****.

A half hour should do it.

Right... [sighs] We better get on.

You won't stay?

Ah, no, but thanks, Betty.

Well, thanks to you.

Go back inside, Tommy.

BOY: Pathetic.

They've come to taunt us.

I know, love.

Let me handle it.

- GIRL: Oi, lady muck!

- Go mind your family.

She looks like a dog's dinner.

Take yourselves off!

It's a free country.

Now!

You gonna ******* let her speak to you like that?

GIRL: Don't touch me!

**** away off around your own door!

Go on.

- Mummy!

- I know.

****** Christ, Ma.

The McGeown's have to live here.

I know.

As far as the ones round here are concerned, she's worse than a Catholic for marrying one.

They were saying at the hairdressers, even her own family don't talk to her.

BOY: ...Fenian bastards!

GIRL: **** way off.

Don't come back.

Headlines on Monday evening at seven o'clock.

The body of a man was found off the Shore Road by a woman walking her dog.

Come to our Irish language night.

Help you exoticize the natives?

[laughs] [TV playing] It's in Belfast, so I could pick you up at seven on Monday.

Er, I'm away with Gerry!

I thought he was gonna call in?

Stay safe and good night.

Fidel's running a UDA meeting up there.

Pity it clashes with your Irish night.

[both laugh] [mellow instrumental music] Sorry, Sir.

There's a bit of an incident up ahead.

I'm gonna have to ask you to turn back, please.

[doorbell rings] Fáilte!

[laughs] That's impressive.

Thank you very much.

- How are you two?

- Come on in.

I'm grand.

Here, hang your coat up there.

Ah, Cushla, you're in for a treat.

Penny has made her world-famous moussaka.

Penny, Cushla was just admiring your Donegal painting.

Oh, God.

It's the only painting of mine I actually like.

I'm mucking about with sculpture now.

[doorbell rings] Michael, here.

Help yourself.

- Do you want a glass of wine?

- Yes, please.

You're very welcome, Cushla.

Thank you.

It all looks lovely.

Oh, thank you.

Yeah, I hope you're hungry.

[chuckles] And thanks for coming for this Irish lesson.

- Jane!

Come here... - Penny!

- Victor.

- It's good to see you.

PENNY: Okay, get stuck in there.

Those are for you.

Cushla, go on ahead.

JIM: There you are, good sir.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

Mm.

VICTOR: Not a moment too soon.

JANE: [laughs] Oh, you don't like it?

I just, I didn't expect it to be fishy.

[laughter] Well, it is fish.

I'm okay.

Michael tells me you're a native speaker.

I did it for my A-levels.

Ah!

Can I help with anything?

Yes, would you grab the moussaka out of the oven there, please?

Thank you, sweetheart.

VICTOR: Did you hear Campbell College won the Cup?

Aye, yeah.

I bumped into that fella... um, the captain... um, of the Royals when we... won.

- Trevor?

Trevor.

Yeah.

- MICHAEL: Trevor.

Yeah, I see him about sometimes.

Time has not been kind.

JANE: Victor, don't be so mean.

- Agh!

- JANE: Be nice.

VICTOR: You should see this guy.

[quietly] Agh, you've burned yourself.

Come here.

Sink's over there.

[laughter & chatter in background] Oh, poor Cushla.

- JANE: That looks marvelous.

- PENNY: There we go.

MICHAEL: Whatever way you want to deny it, Victor, you know police brutality creates terrorists out of bored young fellas who are throwing stones for kicks.

VICTOR: Aye, so you keep telling us.

Pass along the Chianti, Cushla.

You've not said a word against IRA brutality.

They're kneecapping the very same young fellas you're defending.

I'm not endorsing the IRA, Victor.

Penny, how much garlic did you put in this?

You can never have enough garlic, Jim.

Isn't that right?

Jane, would you like some more moussaka?

- Why not?

- PENNY: Cushla?

No, thank you.

Do you not like it?

JIM: Sláinte.

[laughter] Right, shall we do this?

Erm... If yous just talk amongst yourselves and I'll just see where you're at.

[laughter] Alright, Michael.

Go, you start.

- Absolutely not.

- [laughs] Well, how about you tell us the Irish for "no"?

Ní hea.

But that doesn't quite mean "no."

Well, it can do.

It means, "it isn't."

That's a tad slippery, don't you think?

What do you mean slippery?

Evasive.

Non-committal.

If someone offers you a drink, how do you say "no"?

Níor mhaith.

That sounds like a proclamation.

[sighs] Oh, Victor.

[scoffs] [scoffs] Well, why don't we start with some simple phrases - about how we're feeling?

- Great.

Yeah.

Er, like... Tá mé lán.

- I'm full.

- Ah, yes.

Agus tá Victor cantalach.

And Victor's cranky.

[laughter] JIM: Ah, well.

- Fair.

Good point.

- [laughter] PENNY: [laughs] Yeah, she's not wrong.

- JIM: Well made.

- [laughter] [crosstalk] How do you say that?

Dheartháir.

[soft emotional music] If you just wanna pull in under there.

Why?

What are you planning to do?

Not get tarred and feathered.

Fair enough.

[deep breath] So, will you come and teach us again?

[both chuckle softly] [soft emotional music building] My circumstances are complicated.

I won't always be able to get away.

But you sometimes will?

Yeah.

Okay.

[deep inhale] [school bell ringing] Okay, everybody.

Easy on the corridors please.

Slowly.

[soft chuckle] Daddy came home last night.

Do you wanna come and see him?

Davy.

I don't think he's gonna wanna see me.

I think it's best if you just leave it for family.

But I told him all about you.

Go on then.

- Mommy.

- Hi.

Come on in.

Ooh!

Thanks for coming.

Mind that there.

That's the second one they've left us today.

MANDY: Do the job said Mr Templeton... There's plenty of capital for... DAVY: Daddy... [slow dreary music] this is my teacher.

Ms.

Lavery's been good to us.

Er... Come round here.

[heavy breathing] [slow dreary music continues] [dog barking] [car engine starts] What's her problem?

BOY: Was she crying?

EAMONN: Now you don't want the shifts?

CUSHLA: I'm sorry, Eamonn.

I just didn't realize how much extra schoolwork I'd have with the communions and stuff.

EAMONN: So, you won't do any at all?

No, none.

Not for a while.

[call ends] NEWS PRESENTER:...has been shot dead as he worked, sweeping roads near his home on the lower Ormeau Road.

It's the fourth fatality in the city in two days.

Earlier, the funeral took place... Trading eggs on the black market?

My class paints them for Easter.

REID: Ah, just as well.

You wouldn't get much past me.

NEWS PRESENTER: ...battled the IRA on the Falls Road in Belfast, has found the woman who risked her own life to... [phone ringing] Hello?

MICHAEL: It's Michael.

I've not seen you in the pub all week.

No.

How did you get my number?

MICHAEL: Erm, the phonebook.

I'll be passing yours in two minutes.

I... I could pick you up?

That's not a good idea.

For a million different reasons.

- MICHAEL: I've had way worse.

- Seriously.

It's daft and it's dangerous.

MICHAEL: I'll take us somewhere no one will see us.

Please.

Just, just to talk.

[soft pensive music] [soft pensive music continues] CUSHLA: I just sobbed the whole way home.

All Seamie McGeown did was marry a Protestant.

It's not about what you do here.

It's about what you are.

To them, he's a traitor.

To me, he's a brave romantic.

I just hate the way this place makes you one thing or the other.

Well, that's why we must make ourselves.

Easier said than done.

I come from a long line of Catholics that have survived by keeping their heads down and their mouths shut.

Having a big opinion like yours... is a luxury I don't have.

No.

No!

That's, that's not true.

It's not.

What, so I should just say what I want?

Be with who I want, even if it means that I lose my job, or I put Eamonn in danger, or people throw dog ***** at Mommy's washing line?

Yes, absolutely.

Even if people call you selfish or-or-or stupid, or a Judas bastard.

We must find the bravery to choose freedom over fear.

So, taking up with you is a... political act of defiance?

[exhales] No, it's rich.

I get to be brave, and you get your bit on the side.

Look, if you don't want to be with me because I'm married or I'm old or an awful kisser... then look, that's one thing... that... that I accept.

But we cannot let the old bigots and the boys with guns tell us how to live.

We just can't.

Otherwise, nothing will ever change.

Hate wins.

[soft dramatic music] I best get back.

I've gotta prepare for court tomorrow.

You're not the only one with an important workload.

I have to hard boil thirty eggs.

[laughs] Without cracking them!

[sighs] [grunts] [laughs] What are you at?

Aah.

Put these with the eggs.

[sighs] You know, they say it's unlucky to gift gorse, both for the giver and receiver.

I'm more than happy to take my chances with you, Cushla.

[phone line trilling] - EAMONN: The Anchor.

- CUSHLA: Hello, it's me.

I feel bad.

Put me down for some shifts.

EAMONN: You're like a yo-yo.

How many?

Four?

EAMONN: Four?

[chuckles] Jesus.

You do feel bad.

I need you tomorrow.

Okay.

See you then.

[phone ringing] Michael?

TOMMY: No, it's Tommy.

You said I could call.

Yeah, of course.

Erm, how are you?

TOMMY: All right.

Mommy says she must give you that dish back, from the pie.

It's no rush.

Erm... how's your daddy?

TOMMY: Can't wipe his own arse.

Yeah.

It's a hard time for yous all.

It's... desperate.

TOMMY: Aye.

And it won't change if I don't do something.

Just not something stupid, Tommy.

TOMMY: Do you know what?

You're right.

I'm just a stupid something kid.

That's not what I meant.

I meant... [call ends] [phone clinks] You need to mind that fella.

He's at a very bad age.

[lighter clicks] [bright hopeful music] NEWSREADER: The identity of the IRA gunman who shot magistrate and former barrister Martin McBirney last September.

Throw on the footy, Eamonn.

Witnesses took to the stand yesterday as McBirney's... [door opens] MICHAEL: Jameson, please.

MICHAEL: Thank you.

I have a flat in Belfast I use when I'm in court.

Good for you.

MICHAEL: It's good for us.

That remains to be seen.

[bright hopeful music continues] Come tonight.

[bright hopeful music continues] [soft chuckle] [doorbell rings] [door opens] ["Into The Mystic" by Van Morrison playing on radio] It's yourself.

It's me.

Do you want a nightcap?

No.

["Into The Mystic" continues] [sighs] What about... I'm on the pill for my skin.

I am all for skin.

- [Michael strains] - [Cushla giggles] [squeals] Where have you been all night?!

I had car trouble, so I stayed with Gerry.

Oh-ho.

Car trouble?!

You and Gerry must think I'm some fool.

Are you sniffing me?

- You'll get a reputation.

- Oh, my God!

Lose your job.

Or worse, have a wee baby with a ring shoved on your finger!

You wouldn't be carrying on like this if your daddy were still alive.

He'll be rolling over in his grave.

[dramatic suspenseful music] [dramatic music] FEMALE VO: Trespasses is available with PBS Passport and on Amazon Prime Video.

[dramatic music continues]