Secrets & Lies Page #3

- I'll leave it with you

and I'll be back in a few minutes.

- Yeah.

- Can I get you anything?

- No. Uh, thank you.

How you doing?

All right?

Thank you.

"Cynthia Rose Purley".

That's her.

Cynthia Rose.

It's a nice name,

isn't it?

- That's her signature.

- Mm-hmm.

Does it feel strange?

"Elizabeth".

That's my middle name.

They must've kept it.

Well, that would be

your birth name, you see?

"Elizabeth Purley".

Listen, is there any way

I could get a copy of these?

No. Those are the originals

and they're yours to keep.

That's your right

under the 1975 Act.

I've made copies upstairs.

Can I pop those in here for you?

So...

what we need to do now is...

you go away and have a think.

And when the time's right,

and not before...

you know, it's very much

in your own time...

come back to me,

if that's what you want...

and we'll

get the ball rolling.

Now, it can be

a very long-winded process.

And there's no two ways

about it...

it's a very traumatic journey

we're embarking on.

And there may be other people's

feelings to consider too.

So I'll wait

to hear from you, okay?

Now, y-you could decide to trace your

birth mother by yourself if you want to...

but I... I wouldn't advise it.

We're a professional service and

we know how to handle these things.

So I think you should

take advantage of us.

- Hello.

- Oh, you're back. Hello.

- I think I found a mistake.

- I'm sorry, Hortense. I can't stop. I'm late now.

- Look. It says she's white.

- Sorry?

"Mother:
White".

Well, it's perfectly feasible

that your mother was white, isn't it?

Look, I'm sorry, Hortense. Really,

I've got to go. I'm on an emergency case.

Yes, but could this

be a mistake?

I very much doubt it.

Look. Give me a ring in the morning

and we'll have a talk then.

Okay. I'm sorry.

Look at that.

- Legs like a teenager.

- Do you have to?

- You'd like a pair like that.

- What for?

I'm known for my legs.

If you've got it, flaunt it.

- You going out?

- Of course I ain't.

- Who's that?

- Well, I don't know.

If it's what's-her-name,

you could ask her to come in.

I don't even know

who it is yet.

What you doing here?

Just come to see ya.

Well, you can't come in.

My mum's here.

- Who is it?

- I'm going out.

Hello.

- You all right, sweetheart?

- Would you get inside?

Nothing's changed much.

- No.

- Ain't your mum been around, looking after you?

She came around Sunday,

after mass.

Didn't take long

to mess it up again.

She laying off of me

a bit now though.

- Well, I should think so too, at your age.

- Yeah.

She should have a word

with my mum.

I bet she misses you though.

F***in'... better off

without it altogether, I'll tell ya.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

You and me, mate.

We're better off without 'em.

Look. I'm sorry about...

You know.

So you should be.

Don't get all serious

on me, Paul.

- No, no. I ain't.

- Yes, you are, you fool.

I just missed you.

How much?

- A lot.

- Just a lot?

No. Y-Yeah.

Well, I might have

missed you a bit.

Ya know, I've been

going out of me head.

So was I.

Just so's you know, I ain't staying

the night, not every time I come round.

And I want you to stop before.

I was just speaking my mind, all right?

- Yeah.

- Now give us a snog.

- Hello. Good afternoon.

What can I do for you today?

- Hello.

Right. That's fine.

Is that, uh, to post or collect?

- Collect, please.

- Collect. Thanks very much.

That's 6, please, madam.

Okay.

- I saw her, you know.

- Did ya?

Yeah.

She's just, like,

"You got a boyfriend yet, Dionne?"

Nearly everyone

who went to the funeral...

reckoned they'd seen her and she'd

given them some kind of sign.

"Me see your mother

two years before she dead.

And she hold onto me arm

and look in me eye as if she did know."

I mean, if she knew,

I wish she'd told us.

You're gettin' better though.

It's a nice day.

Yeah.

I don't know...

why I can't contain it all.

It's too soon.

There's nothing rational

about grief.

Maybe you cry for yourself.

Been out much?

Nah. I can't.

Some days

I'm completely vulnerable.

I can feel everything.

Other days I'm numb.

- If you wanna come out with me...

- No.

- I've got stuff to sort out.

- What?

Life.

- Look. If there's anything I can do...

- No. Thanks.

I'll be all right.

- Have you heard from Bernard?

- Nah.

Yes! He sent a sympathy card.

- Mm?

- Which I thought was a very nice thing to do.

I did something really bad.

Oh, no. I don't think

I can deal with no confession.

- Cleanse my soul.

- Mm-mmm!

- I did the do.

- Do it.

- Did the deed with a complete stranger.

- Did it.

- No! Who?

- I don't know who.

- Well, what did he look like?

- Don't know.

- He was in advertising.

- Oh, Lord.

- Did you use a condom?

- Yes.

- Did you use two?

- Yes.

- One on top of the other?

- One after the other.

Oh, God!

- Do you despair of me?

- No.

- Yes, you do.

- I don't.

- Did you have a good time?

- Yeah.

- That's all that matters then, isn't it?

- Yeah.

I liked my mum as a person,

but I didn't know her.

I wish I'd known her.

- She loved you.

- Yeah, I know, but that's not in debate, is it?

My mum,

she resents me.

She kept you.

She fed you.

She clothed you.

She didn't give you away.

- She could have.

- I wish she had.

No, you don't.

The thing is,

they're so secretive.

It's that back-home thing.

You know.

"Come out.

Big people are talking."

That sort of vibe.

So you don't pursue things,

because you're brought up not to.

Just let 'em

get on with it.

What I seem to do

is think about things...

I wish I could have

asked her.

Like what?

I don't know.

There's stuff

I wish I knew.

- There's stuff I wish I didn't know.

- No.

If you knew you had a limited amount

of time, you'd sort it out.

You'd ask

your mum questions...

regardless of whether

she got vexed.

Like, I don't know, what happened between

her and your dad, for example.

No. She didn't make

no effort for me...

so why should

I be interested in her?

And where's my dad anyway?

I don't wanna hear

her and Norbert havin' it off.

I don't want her to know

who I'm havin' it off with...

and I don't want her

to see me drunk.

Don't want her to know

nothing about me.

Maybe that's because you're frightened

that when you look at her...

you can see yourself

in 20 years time.

- Please.

- We choose our parents.

How do you mean?

We choose the parents in this life

that can teach us something...

so that when we go into

the next life, we get it right.

Zzzzoop!

Well, sometimes

it don't work, does it?

I'm gonna pop out

for a couple of hours.

- What time will you be back?

- 4:
30.

- Okay. Have fun.

- Thanks.

Sorry to interrupt. Do you think

you can fit these things in?

- Right.

- I'm a bit low.

- I'll give 'em a ring.

- Thanks.

"Seventeen-I."

- Hello.

- Bloody hell.

- What you doing here?

- Thought I'd come and see ya.

Where's Monica?

She's at home, I think.

Gonna let me in then?

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