01x05 - Episode 5

[bunniefuu]

(Door bangs open)

Out of your stinking pits, you ugly, miserable scrotes.

Out of your pits, right...

Are you listening? It is time to work.

Out of those pits, right now.

Sorry to mention such a word as this, but it is that time.

Out of those pits, you miserable bastards...

If we have to drag you out by your hair we will.

Up and out of your bunks, right now!

It'll get you 50 lashes.

Out of those pits, right now!

Are you flesh and blood?

Yes.

They did not hang you?

Too pretty.

Tommy Barrett's digging your grave.

Where are you going?

To tell him it will not be needed.

No?

You are not dead?

No. Disappointed?

Pleased. As a matter of fact.

Oh. Really?

Why did they not hang you?

No idea.

(Oh, James!)

What?

You are a dead man.

Who is that for?

It took Jesus three days, Tommy. I did it in one.

He let me go.

Did he flog you?

No.

Did he add a year or two to your sentence?

No.

He just let you go?

Yes.

I gave you my food.

Yes.

I need it back.

Oh, James.

What?

You have turned informer.

I have not.

I can explain.

You can explain it tonight.

To us all.

Finish it yourself.

It is no longer needed.

Finish it.

He's alive!

I know.

Where are you going?

The jail.

He's not in the jail.

What?

He's free.

How?

You tell me.

Not flogged, nothing added to his sentence - he is just free.

How do you know this?

I have just spoken to him.

Where?

I left him digging a grave.

His grave.

No, Tommy. James Freeman would not turn informer. He would not.

You know?

Mm-hm.

Yes.

We have to get rid of him.

There will be an explanation for this.

A perfectly valid explanation.

Shall I do it?

I told him to explain it to all of us. In the hut.

You had no right to tell him that.

If you touch something hot.

Yes?

You pull your hand away.

Mm.

Hand.

H-A-N-D.

Yes.

And that is exactly what is happening to all the bits of metal that make up...

Metal?

M-E-T-E-L.

A-L. M-E-T-A-L. Metal.

(Metal.)

So, all the tiny bits of metal make up this big piece of metal...

Yes?

I, er, I want you to make me a Kn*fe.

A Kn*fe?

Yeah. Right now, please.

I cannot make knives. I repair things, that is all.

You can make a better Kn*fe than I ever could.

What will you do with it?

Cut James Freeman's throat.

I will not do it.

He has turned informer.

I will not do it.

Spragg...

The Governor's promised me a reduction in my sentence.

I can be at home with the woman I love in a few years' time.

I will do nothing to jeopardise that.

How will it jeopardise it, ey?

I will tell no-one where I got this Kn*fe from.

They'll know it was made here, Spragg.

Where else could it be made but here?

I will not do it. Sorry.

I cannot help you.

N-I-F-E.

Kn*fe.

Yes!

No. There's a "K".

A "K"?

Yes, at the start. K-N-I-F-E.

(He snorts)

Seriously.

No, seriously.

K-nife.

(g*nf*re)

Yes!

Walk.

Yes!

Walk, man!

Yes.

Walk, man! Walk!

Yes, yes.

(Hissing)

Ah!

Ah! A snake!

A snake has just bitten me.

Walk!

(g*nf*re)

Walk to him.

Help! Please, can you help me?

Please, help me. Please, can you help me? Please...

Help me, PLEASE!

Please...

How many times have I warned you about that?

Running in this bloody country.

I sh*t it, Sir.

Running in grass like this, you bloody fool!

I got your dinner for you, Sir.

He is dead.

Oh, poor boy!

Is your husband in?

I will get him.

Snake.

I am so, so sorry.

Thank you.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

We beg thee, dear Lord, to forgive those sins he committed.

By way of his mouth - any profanities uttered, any lies, any heresy.

We beg thee, dear Lord, to forgive those sins he committed by way of his hands.

Any v*olence...

MUSIC: The Last Post One book - common prayer.

Four letters home.

One set of rosary beads.

(Rustling canvas)

You wanted me?

Yes. Private Michael Mulrooney is dead - a snake-bite.

I am sorry to hear that, boss.

You write letters for people?

Yes, boss?

You can be... inventive?

Yes, boss.

Will you write one for me - to Private Michael Mulrooney's parents?

About how he d*ed in battle, boss?

Yes.

Yes, boss.

Thank you.

Letters...

I read your file.

Did you, boss?

It says, you stole from a widow and three children.

Yes, boss.

It is true?

I did it to feed my own children, boss.

Do you have children?

Yes.

What would you do for them?

I would sacrifice my life for them.

Of course.

But would you sacrifice your reputation?

Respect? Honour?

I would.

I did, boss.

Line-up everyone! Keep moving!

Bring your tools! Move!

Move!

You want to witness this?

No.

Guard the door then.

You would do this to me?

You think so little of our friendship, you would drown me?

And you, Elizabeth? You would watch?

What will it achieve?

You duck a man, he says what you want him to say.

So, tell me what you want me to say and I will say it now and spare us all this shite.

You are an informer.

I am an informer?

I am not.

But if that is what you need to hear, then so be it -

I am an informer.

Say it. Say it and mean it.

I cannot.

Why did he let you off?

He did not.

You are alive - so he let you off.

He marched me to the scaffold with the vicar chanting a dead man's prayer.

They stood me on the trap door. They bound my hands and feet.

They put a hood over my head, a noose around my neck and bade me goodbye.

And let me tell you - that is not letting off.

That is the cruellest thing you can do to a man.

Perhaps.

But we would see it as a letting off, so why would he do that?

I do not know.

What did he say?

Nothing.

Nothing?

Nothing I remember.

Nothing?

He took the hood off your head, presumably?

Yes.

Yeah.

The rope from round your neck?

Yes.

Freed your hands and feet?

Yes.

So, in all that time - what did he say?

What explanation did he give for tricking you in that way?

I do not remember.

You do not remember because there is no possible explanation apart from this - you did a deal!

I do not remember because I was a dead man and the next second - I was alive again.

No man would remember anything in those circumstances.

Why do you think he let you live?

Why? Why?

Because I did not deserve to hang!

The blacksmith was stealing my food, starving me to death.

He knew that.

What I did - I did in self-defence.

HE KNEW THAT.

Now, you can't hang a man who kills in self-defence!

He knew all that and still sentenced you to hang.

He faced us all - convicts and soldiers - and said you would hang when the blacksmith's body was found - but you have not hanged. So, now he appears weak. Why is that?

Why, why is he prepared to appear weak?

What have you offered him in exchange?

Nothing.

You have turned informer.

I have not.

And what could I tell him anyway?

That we are all fed up. All hungry. All dreaming of escape.

I doubt that would be a revelation.

I will swear on the Bible.

I will swear on a stack of bibles.

I am no informer.

If I am an informer - may God strike me dead right now!

The only information I have that could be of any interest to the governor is this...

We three k*lled the blacksmith.

I did not act alone.

If I am an informer - why have I not told him that?

Hmm?

Why are you two still free?

I am no informer.

Then why did you not hang?

I do not know!

Do not take us for idiots, James.

(He inhales sharply)

If there is anyone here who can offer me any explanation as to why this man is still alive - let him do so now.

Anyone?

Anyone?

(Gurgling)

Hey? Hey?

You have the gift of the gab, James, but that is not going to do you any good this time - because we do not want "gab" - we want truth.

HAVE YOU TURNED INFORMER?

No.

If there is any alternative, tell me it now.

(Gurgling)

DO NOT LOOK AT ME, tell me what else I can do!

Anyone?

ANYONE?

(He struggles for breath)

If I duck you for a third time, James, I will hold you under until you are dead - so tell me it now.

Tell me you are an informer. Tell me it now and you will live.

You have had a rope around your neck.

A man will agree to anything with a rope around his neck.

We know that and we sympathise. You understand?

If you come clean with us, we will not harm you.

If you do not come clean with us - you will die. Here and now.

Do you understand, hey? Do you understand?

Are you an informer? Hmm?

If you make us k*ll you now, it is I who will have to do it.

Do not do that to me, James, please.

Are you an informer?

NO!

Tommy.

(He gurgles violently)

Tommy.

Tommy!

TOMMY!

Are you an informer?

Are you an informer? Are you an informer? Are you informer?

YES!

(He sobs)

k*ll him!

(He shrieks)

I gave him my word.

You do not have to stay true to your word when you're dealing with an informer.

When a man informs on another man - he loses all respect.

We can use this.

Just, just k*ll him will you?!

We can use this. Surely we can use it!

Why no vote?

All of this.

All of this and no vote?

We would all have done what this man has done.

So, I demand we vote.

Get out.

Get out now!

Get out while we vote. Get out NOW!

Go on! Get out!

(Door closes)

Who wants him dead?

MUSIC: The Last Post Present!

Fire!

On the day we landed, I promised that I would get you all home safe and sound.

All of you. I have broken that promise.

In my defence, I envisaged a thr*at coming from the convicts - rebelling, perhaps. Or the natives attacking.

I did not envisage - could not envisage - a soldier dying because he was hungry.

A soldier forgetting everything he had been taught because ahead of him lay food and he was so, so hungry.

Do you wish to add anything, Governor?

We are at the grave of a young soldier.

Little wonder emotions run high.

Soldiers have gone hungry before.

They've gone thirsty.

They have been hot. They have been cold.

And yet, they have maintained their discipline.

This young man did not - and that is why he lies here.

We will cook the animal he sh*t and you may all have a piece of it tonight in memory of Michael.

Meanwhile, every convict must know that Michael d*ed of snakebite.

The bush must terrify them as much as the ocean.

And thus, Michael's death will make our lives a little easier.

Dismissed.

Shoulder arms. Left Turn.

Dismissed.

Where is Katherine?

I have no idea, Sir.

She will be sad to hear about Private Mulrooney.

Really, Sir?

She saw a lot of him.

Every time she came to my tent, in fact.

Of course, Sir.

When you see her, will you... will you give her this? From me.

Does it have any significance, Sir?

Of course.

Oh.

Sir?

She has not told you?

Told me what?

Sir.

Sir.

The story of the statue of the Virgin.

No, sir.

Well, perhaps she will one day.

How can he be an informer when everyone knows...

We have voted!

..he is an informer? What are we likely to tell him?

We have voted!

I know both these men.

I know the man to be k*lled and I know the man who will k*ll him and I love them both - and I will be heard - and you can stick your "We have voted" up your arse!

You voted to k*ll him, Anne.

And yet this all started because he tried to help you.

The Blacksmith stole your food and no-one lifted a finger apart from James Freeman. He proved himself more of a man...

You were not there.

.. than any man here. More of a man than my...

You were not there.

IS IT NOT TRUE?

He proved himself more of a man than my Tommy, even. So why, Anne?

Why vote to k*ll a man who helped you when you most needed it?

Why, Anne? When one vote means so much?

I am Irish and... he is an informer.

James Freeman has shown remarkable courage in standing up to a bully... and understandable fear on that scaffold.

Let one cancel out the other, Anne.

Let him live!

A lot of them wanted you dead, James.

Will you tell the governor only what we tell you to tell him?

Yes.

And nothing else?

He is no fool.

He will realise what you are up to.

When that happens - you must tell us everything.

Yes.

You will hold nothing back from us.

Nothing at all.

Nothing.

Then you may live, James.

Um, I got some tobacco, Tommy.

For turning informer.

Nah, mate. But we can turn this into rum.

The soldiers are gambling tonight. They will deal us in for this.

Poker?

We should get pissed.

The three of us rat-arsed again.

I have brought you something.

Tell me what you want to know?

Everything that might help me.

There are not just the living and the dead, Mrs Johnson.

There is the world of the unborn.

Millions of souls waiting millions of years to pass on to the Kingdom of Heaven.

To them - to the unborn - this life is nothing.

It is a river they must cross to reach the other side, to reach the Kingdom of Heaven.

So, they want this life - this river - to be as short as possible.

To the unborn - a woman like you is heaven-sent.

You give birth to them - they die within minutes.

And before they know it - they are with the angels in Heaven.

For the unborn, you are the ideal mother, Mrs Johnson and your children are eternally grateful.

Do not grieve or blame yourself in any way.

Instead, Mrs Johnson - rejoice.

Is that not comforting?

(She laughs softly)

Yes.

But it is heresy, Anne.

To say the earth is round was heresy once.

You say I will... give birth to a healthy child?

One who thrives?

Yes.

How can I rejoice in both? A child who dies and a child who thrives?

The child who thrives will be happy with you as his mother.

The child who dies will be happy to get to the Kingdom of Heaven so soon.

A woman who believes this - and I promise you it is the absolute truth, Mrs Johnson - a woman who believes this will never know sadness again.

Do you believe me?

(She sighs)

Oh, I want to, Anne.

Why put your faith in a convict?

Some cruel and manipulating charlatan preying on your loss and vulnerability?

Cynically telling you what you want to hear in the hope she may reap some reward?

But I have proven I want nothing in return.

Last time... you said you felt my children's presence.

Yes.

Do you feel it now?

Yes.

What are they doing?

Watching over you.

It's so strange - we want big, strong sons to protect us when we are old.

But the dead can protect us even more.

(She exhales sharply)

Thank you.

This has all been confidential. Yes?

Yes.

What I am about to ask you, can that be confidential, too?

Of course.

Does your husband have a g*n?

A g*n? No, of course not. Why?

The governor will have to cut rations again soon.

When he does there will be mayhem.

You should be safe - for we will respect a man of God - but... a man of God with a g*n - we will respect even more.

Thank you.

Where have you been?

The bush.

The bush?

Yes, but I cheated.

Kept close to the edge.

Made sure I could see the sky and hear the sea.

Sums me up, I'm afraid.

There is no ship coming, Deborah.

There will be no rescue - so you choose.

Do we break open the store and let them all eat to their hearts' content and then watch them die?

Or do we eke it out over months... and only then watch them die?

Die sooner or die later? You choose.

You will do what has to be done, Governor.

As always.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for you.

Thank you.

Will we make love again tonight?

Yes.

"Our souls will never die."

No.

Suppose it is more than that.

It is not just "Our souls will never die" but...

.."our souls have always lived".

They did not need to be born as we were born.

They were always there just waiting for a body to inhabit.

Yes?

Would that be heresy?

Have you been speaking to someone?

Thank you.

I am sorry?

I have said something interesting, therefore I must have heard it from someone else.

I am sorry.

I do not think it would be heresy, no.

Are you sure?

I'm fairly sure.

Because that is what I am beginning to believe.

Anything else?

Yes...

I think you should ask the governor for a g*n.

Mary.

What?

You have been speaking to someone.

I have not.

You have, that is so unlike you.

You know that God himself will protect us. We have no need of g*ns.

And to whom have you been speaking?

No-one.

You said we would make love.

I've changed my mind!

The Major is looking for you.

I know.

He asked me to give you something.

What?

You do not know?

No. What is it?

You tell me.

Is it yours?

Then why is he giving it to you?

I have no idea.

It must have some significance. Why else would he want you to have it?

He mentioned a story.

Did he?

Yes.

You told him a story?

Yes.

When?

The last time we were together.

You said you did not speak to him.

I lied.

Why?

I do not know.

What story was it?

Just a story - a stupid story.

Tell me!

When I was a girl, I used to pray to the statue of the Virgin Mary in church.

She seemed to wobble.

The more sincere the prayer - the more she seemed to wobble.

Why did you tell him?

Because he told me the story of when he was a boy.

I-I didn't know what else to say.

Why have you not told me this story?

Because...

Because what? Did you think I would mock you?

I do not know, perhaps.

Perhaps?

So, the major is more understanding, more sympathetic, more sensitive than I, is that it?

No.

Please do not be upset. Can you not see that that is exactly what he wants?

Intimate chats, exchanging of gifts, what's next?

Falling in love with him?

Or have you already?

Of course not. I love you.

Nobody else.

I risked my life for you.

I know.

He could have had me sh*t.

You think you have to tell me that?

I got into his bed to save you from being sh*t!

It happened on the 9th of June, Mr and Mrs Mulrooney.

Michael and four other marines were camped in Kookaburra Creek when they were surrounded by natives armed with spears.

The only way out was upwards, but that meant turning your back on the natives in order to climb the rock face.

So, one soldier climbed, while the other four held off the natives.

Then a second soldier climbed, while the other three held them off.

Then a third soldier climbed, while the other two held them off.

That left only two soldiers on the ground and for one of them it was certain death.

Because the last soldier to climb would have nobody holding off the natives.

Mr and Mrs Mulrooney, your son Michael demanded to be that last soldier.

He gave his life so that another man might live.

I know Michael wanted to test himself in battle, we spoke about it often.

How sad, then, that his first battle - his first test - should be his last.

But how glorious that he should pass it with flying colours.

Mr and Mrs Mulrooney, I have never known anyone so brave.

Yours sincerely...

And then your signature there, boss.

How did you know that we talked about it?

Hm?

About testing himself in battle?

I guessed it.

Shall I, shall I leave it there, boss?

Yes.

What is your name, again?

Letters Molloy, boss.

I owe you a favour, Letters Molloy.

I'm in.

Me to bet.

One shell.

(Rustling canvas)

What do you want?

Rum.

You're not getting any.

We thought you might deal us in and we can you play for it.

Think again. All in.

You are bluffing.

We have tobacco.

And I will call that bluff.

How did you know we were playing here?

Everyone knows.

I'll call it, too.

Run.

Watch and weep.

(He burps)

Tobacco?

Yes.

How much?

Quarter of an ounce.

Show me.

That's nowhere near a quarter. An eighth.

An eighth, then.

Our tobacco against a gill of your rum.

Half a gill.

Fine.

What game?

Erm, you choose.

Seven card stud. Do you know it?

A bit.

Seven shells. You run out of shells, you're out of the game.

I'm in.

Shall I deal?

I will deal.

Measure the rum.

Cut.

Two face down, four face up, and the last one face down, yes?

Yes.

Where did you get the tobacco?

I found it.

Of course you did.

Where?

Is two aces good?

(They laugh)

Very.

Five of hearts, three of hearts, seven of diamonds, four of clubs, and a big fat king of hearts to me.

Er, king to bet. One shell.

Who did you, er, steal it from?

Steal what?

The tobacco.

What does he take us for?

(He chuckles)

Nine of diamonds, five of spades, ten of diamonds, three of spades... and another big fat king to me.

Pair to bet. Another shell.

Was she, er... was she on the game, back home?

Elizabeth?

Yes.

Hm? Seven of diamonds, jack of clubs, seven of clubs, six of diamonds, and a three, for me.

Well?

You're not pissed enough to say something like that, Buckley.

Kings to bet.

One shell.

In.

In.

Me, too.

And me.

Ooh.

Four of spades, deuce of hearts, six of spades, ten of clubs... and an eight for the dealer.

I'm just... curious.

I wonder how it feels to be married to a woman who's shagged two or three thousand men.

(He laughs)

Still me? Er, one shell.

Has she ever worked out exactly how many?

Could two or three thousand be on the low side?

Please.

Could it be more like four or five?

Come on.

Just win the rum off this bastard and we go. Yes?

She was never on the game.

She punched a woman...

Ooh.

.. who turned out to be a duchess - that's why she's here.

Hm.

I'll see you.

She had men, before me.

Mm.

Very few. Certainly a lot fewer than any tart you have ever been with.

Really?

Mm-hm.

Well...

What?

It is on you.

See you.

See you.

See you.

Three kings.

(He laughs)

Famous last words - "Cannot possibly lose."

Thank you! Thank you.

(He chuckles)

What are you doing?

Why are you shuffling the cards?

(Rustling canvas)

I... I did not expect anyone to be here.

Cards, Tommy?

Poker?

Yes.

You promised me you would never play again.

Cut them.

Why?

Because we are playing.

What are we playing for?

My wife.

I think we should go, Tommy.

Mm-hm.

I'm not letting that bastard walk away with our tobacco.

You are not thinking straight, Tommy, so we will...

He's not having our tobacco.

It is no longer our tobacco. It is his tobacco. He has won it.

No.

So, let us go now before you lose something even more precious.

No.

One night with my wife against all your tobacco and rum.

Yes.

Corporal?

You should be ashamed of yourself.

You should be down on your knees thanking God for a woman like that in a place such as this.

Do not lecture me on morality, Corporal!

You're gambling her away like a piece of meat.

You sold your woman for a corporal's sash.

You can stick your morality up your arse!

I did not sell her!

Sergeant Timmins?

I did not sell my woman.

Fine! Sergeant Timmins?

Let us be clear what's at stake here.

Your wife, for one night... and I can do to her whatever I wish?

Tommy!

Yes.

Yes?

Sergeant Timmins, there is no greater betrayal than my Tommy playing poker again.

So yes.

Whatever you wish.

I'm in.

Corporal?

I used to think you a man of honour.

A convict, yes - but a man of honour.

Are you in?

But you're not. You are no less a gobshite than any other man.

Are you in?

Go to hell.

Ten shells each. The game goes on until one man has all the shells.

Agreed.

I am so, so sorry.

Tell me you forgive me.

Please tell me you forgive me.

Of course I do.

And one last one.

Have you got anything with those aces?

Put your shell in, Sarge, and find out.

I can b*at your prile.

But not if you've got something with it.

James?

Sorry.

Tell me you can b*at it, Tommy. Tell me you can b*at it!

I have two pair.

Two pair?

Yes.

For God's sake, man. Two pair?

Yes!

Then I am his, or his.

And I will see you.

And you?

I will see you, too.

Why? Why? You cannot b*at what he has showing!

And I will see you... naked. In my bed.

And you will be obliging... and clean.

Full house.

Two jacks to go with my three aces.

Jesus.

(He laughs)

Private Buckley, you have won and you have every right to take your winnings, but I love this man.

Despite what he has done tonight, I love this man and no-one else.

Please let me stay with him.

If I did... would I go up in your estimation?

Yes.

Up enough for you to shag me?

No.

In that case, I must insist on taking my winnings.

She will be in my bed tonight. Not yours.

You would welsh on a bet?

No.

Because I have won.

With two pair?

Yes.

Two pair cannot b*at three aces.

Never mind three aces with two jacks.

Two pair should not be in the same room as a hand like mine.

This is a very special two pair.

I am sure.

(He chuckles)

Two pair of fours.

That's four in total.

(They shriek with laughter)

YOU BEAUTY!

YES!

Oh, you gorgeous man!

Tommy! Oh, you little beaut.

(They laugh)

Oh, yes.

Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous man.

If you sit on your hand long enough, it will go numb and you can pretend someone else is giving you a wank.

(They laugh raucously)

(Splashing and whooping)

Queen of Hearts.

Chalk it down to experience.

He has cheated.

Probably.

She acted all surprised to find us there, yes?

Yes.

She was expecting to be alone, then?

Yes.

What woman goes into a mortuary alone at dead of night?

(Convicts laugh raucously)

We've been had, Private Buckley.

TOMMY! WHOO HOO!

You cheated.

Yeah, you think so?

Know so. You cheated.

What will you do? See the governor, yeah?

When gambling gets 100 lashes? I do not think so.

Give me the rum back.

D-d-d-d-d-d.

You know how I know you cheated?

No.

I cheated.

Ah, now that I do know.

Because you dealt at least two of your kings straight off the bottom of the pack.

The Blind Man of Bethsaida could have seen it.

There was no way you could have ended up with four fours unless you also cheated. So give me this rum.

Ah, ah, ah, ah.

I will call it all square.

Yeah?

Do you know what I would call it? A very bad idea.

I do not blame you for cheating.

I mean, why leave it to chance? A woman like that, yeah?

Yes.

Heartbreaking to think someone like me has been there.

Course you have.

I have.

(He snorts)

Time to go, Buckley. I think.

You did not just b*at me, you did not just cheat me, you did not just drop me from there. No.

You led me to believe that I had won her.

That she was mine.

You dropped me from there.

Because it was much more entertaining to drop me from there.

(Tommy sniggers)

And that is why he is getting this now.

I had her.

Yeah?

On the day she got flogged. She was in a cell. I was guarding her.

I gave her one then.

I am sure you did.

Baby's probably mine.

God help it.

Why do you find that so hard to believe, Barrett?

Is it my, er... repugnance?

Or is it your great love for each other?

Ey, ey, ey, ey.

I would say... a little bit of both.

Buckley, Buckley, Buckley.

You have a very vivid imagination.

Tommy, let us go.

She has a birthmark on the right cheek of her arse.

Come on, Tommy.

In the shape of an anchor.

How do I know that if I have not been there?

(Tommy snorts)

Can you hear the deafening silence?

Where are the protestations of innocence? Hm?

What is going on here?

If this is true, Buckley, then you are finished.

Well?