Looking for Eric Page #8

Dad?

You all right?

You ready? Ready? Here we go.

Open wide.

Lovely, eh?

- Tasty. Tasty.

- Yeah?

That's nice, isn't it, eh?

Here we are. Look at this.

Oh, no way. Look at that.

- Wow.

- Made by me.

You made that?

Yeah. Don't laugh.

He didn't even make it.

He bought it.

Well, I got the recipe from

the internet, but still I made it.

- I had to bribe him to do it.

- Did ya?

It'd have been cheaper for me to

get Gordon Ramsay round.

- Well, at least I made it.

- I'm not kidding.

I tell you what,

Jess, it does look nice, lad.

- It does.

- That looks gorgeous.

Look what your Uncle Jess has made.

Yes, I'll have some of that definitely.

Here you are.

Might even put some in the liquidiser

and give you some, mightn't we?

- Cheers. Cheers.

- Well, Mum, Dad.

Here's to you both.

Seriously, I cannot thank you

enough for what you've done.

I would never have managed without ya.

- Come on.

- Don't tempt fate.

Well, no. My supervisor said

that my work's pretty good.

So, I know it's a bit late, but I should

be able to graduate with everybody else.

Tell you what, love, though,

you've worked really hard for it.

- You don't half deserve it.

- Thank you.

Well, that's down to you two.

Seriously, I managed to get

a good run at it,

and I could not have done it, honestly.

I can't thank you enough.

- Are you okay, Eric?

- Yeah, I'm fine.

I've just got this headache

I can't get rid of.

Hope it isn't us.

No. It's been

a lovely night tonight, Lily.

Honestly.

What is it then?

It's just the boys. It's a long story.

I just, gotta figure out

how to cope, that's all.

So there is something wrong.

What is it?

Sh*t. It's not worth moaning about.

I just need time to figure it all out.

D'you know what, Eric?

Sometimes you just have to risk it.

Share things.

I'll get there.

Fancy a coffee?

Yeah, okay.

Armed police!

Armed police officer.

Get on the ground!

- Get down on the floor!

- F*** off!

F***ing not moving.

F***ing not moving.

Not moving. Not moving.

Put your hands behind your back.

Put your hands behind your back.

Both of ya.

Just do as they say,

no harm will come to you.

Do as we say. It's all right.

It's all right, Lily.

Leave us. Leave 'em alone.

It's okay, Lily.

There's a f***ing baby!

Lily. Lily, calm down.

Bring him here.

Up on your feet!

- Help me.

- All right, Lily.

All right. All right. Come on.

Onto your knees.

- Onto your knees.

- I'm on me knees.

Onto your feet.

Right, outside. Just keep going.

It's okay, sweetheart.

It's all right now.

- That's one out.

- One out.

F***'s going on?

F***ers! Jess.

- Dad!

- Sam, are you okay?

- Sam, are you all right?

- Dad!

Sam! Sam!

What the f***'s going on?

Lily, are you all right, love?

Lily, are you all right?

Oh, f***ing hell.

Lily, are you okay?

What the f*** is going on?

Where have the f***ing lads gone?

What the f***'s going on?

They're looking for a gun.

Are the lads in a gang?

- No, don't be daft.

- Look at me.

Is there a gun in the house?

If you invited me, Daisy and Sam

into that house with a gun in it,

you know what that means,

don't you, Eric?

Yeah, Lily.

Course I know what that means. Yeah.

Now, what really happened

to your eye, Eric?

- To me eye?

- Yes.

I told you what happened, Lily.

Some nutter on the post round

just hit me. I told ya.

Hiya. Hiya. We've got your daughter

and grandchild in a police car outside

waiting to take them home.

If you wanna follow me,

we'll take you right now, okay?

- Okay.

- All right?

I don't get it.

They've lifted the floorboards.

Where's it gone?

F***ing state of this.

They've lifted the floorboards.

Where's it gone?

That's a good question.

- Are you surprised?

- Eric, you f***ing beauty.

- Eh? You surprised, eh?

- Very surprised.

Oh. So was the f***ing chicken.

- F***ing hell.

- Yes, Dad!

Hey, I've never been a lover of chicken,

but I love this one.

- Oh, God's sake.

- It's him. Zac.

Put it on loudspeaker.

Put it on.

Yeah, it's me.

Have they gone?

Yeah. How the f*** do you know?

Right, Ryan. You still got it or what?

Yeah, I still got it.

Good.

Right, this calls for a bit

of a bonus, then, eh?

- D'you hear me?

- Yeah, yeah.

Good. I'm gonna need it soon.

Very f***ing soon.

So what are you

gonna do now then, eh, Ryan?

Let that f***er shoot

another kid in the back

for laughing at his shirt or something,

then stick it under your bed for him,

eh?

F***ing ruining other people's lives.

Your brother's. Sam. Lily.

- And yours, Dad.

- Yeah. And mine.

If we ever get through this sh*t,

things are f***ing changing

round here big time.

Oh, what f***ing now?

What's that about?

They've put a video of you on YouTube.

Who's put me on f***ing YouTube?

Who d'you think?

Think you better have a look.

That f***ing twat with the camera!

That's why that f***ing twat

had that camera!

Come on, boy. Come on, boy.

Let me out. Get him out.

Get him out, for f***'s sake.

Get me away from it. Bastards!

Let me out!

I'm sat there,

Eric, with me two sons, right?

And I'm looking at meself, I'm looking

at meself being humiliated.

And it was like being out of me

body again,

looking down on meself,

yet again being humiliated.

I can't f***ing cope with it, mate.

I don't know what to do, Eric.

There's nowt I can do.

Always got more choices than we think.

Always. More possibilities.

Oh, not another shave? I've done that.

Different possibilities.

Different thing.

You try something, it doesn't work.

Try something else. Always.

Like what?

Your teammates.

Oh, God, I, couldn't even begin

to think about telling me mates.

I mean, where do I start?

"Have you got a minute, lads, yeah?

"It's about my lad. He's minding

a gun for the local psychopath

"who shoots kids in the back if they

laugh at the colour of his shoes. "

I mean, God, I'm just too ashamed.

I don't know what they'd think.

They are your friends, are they?

Yeah, they're me mates, yeah.

You think you can say everything

to your friends?

Yeah, I suppose you can, yeah.

So trust them.

- Play him at his own game.

- Harass him.

- Like what?

- Put the gun in his house

and phone the f***ing dibble.

- Yeah, but gun in his house.

- You can't do that because if...

- Why can't you do that?

- 'Cause he's gonna get f***ed over.

The only thing you can do

is phone the police.

It's out. Out of the question.

- There's a gun in your house.

- Shut up.

Stop going on about lynch mob,

f***'s sake.

- Here are, he'll know.

- Meatballs.

All right, Meats?

- All right, mate?

- Psychos.

- Another book.

- They don't give a flying f***.

We know that.

Is that the latest research

from Stanford?

You can't negotiate with 'em,

you can't reason with 'em. Right?

You've just gotta f*** 'em up.

You've gotta scare the shite out of 'em.

You've gotta make them think

"This is not f***ing worth it. "

They're a big gang of thugs,

aren't they?

I mean, like they got muscles

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