02x03 - Such Mummy's Girls

[bunniefuu]

This programme contains some
scenes of a sexual nature,

deals with Suicide and contains
strong language and adult humour

Honestly, girls, Dev's fine. He'll
be back in the office on Monday.

Are you sure? He seemed
quite serious about quitting.

It's just a funny turn. You
know all about those, Josie.

Bloody hell, it's like the
pot sectioning the kettle.

It's a midlife crisis.
He stinks of it.

Trust me, we are one step
closer to that massive house.

I guarantee it.

SHE SCREAMS

CREAKING

Morning, Mummy.

We love you.

Please... eat something.

-Raw.
-Well, sorry if I don't know how to boil a f*cking egg!

You can't f*cking
see inside them.

I'm not a f*cking magician.

Now, Mum, I've
googled your symptoms,

and you either have
terminal cancer or anxiety.

-What?
-Aren't you their spokesperson?

There's no shame in anxiety.

I'm anxious all the time.

Do I let that stop me?

Yes. Constantly.

You wish it was anxiety.

You'd love that, wouldn't you?

Well, sorry to disappoint you.

I'm not anxious. I'm
just very, very tired.

Well, if you're not
anxious, why can't you eat?

-I'm not hungry.
-Because you're anxious.

No, it's acid reflux.

I haven't had this
much stomach pain

since I thought you
were a miscarriage.

That'll teach me
to get my hopes up.

It's nothing to do
with all the boxes

and Dev's dead wife's
stuff everywhere?

-No.
-What about the fact he decided his house

is too big for one man, and
he'd rather move in with us?

Enough. I just want to have
a relaxing bath in peace.

-You fixed the hole, didn't you?
-Absolutely.

Good as new.

What the f*ck do we do?

We run a bath and hope
she doesn't notice.

WATER RUNS

Can't we just pay
someone to fix it?

With what f*cking money, Billie?

-I'm a sugar baby now.
-Oh. How much is he paying you?

Well, nothing yet.

And have you been having sex?

-No.
-So business is booming.

Thinking about it, we
haven't actually spoken

since he agreed to
be my sugar daddy.

Hmm. You have such
bad luck with daddies.

The problem is, I can't get
him away from his stupid wife.

He's taking her out
for cream tea tomorrow.

-What's cream tea?
-Yeah. I don't know.

-It must be really good because it's all posh people eat.
-Wow.

Sounds fancy. Maybe I should
go, see him in person.

Remind him of his responsibilities
as my sugar daddy.

Maybe he's afraid to
make the first move.

-He's quite shy.
-Girls...

-Deb seems quite tired, doesn't she?
-She's anxious.

-What about?
-The house is a bit cramped.

-All the boxes.
-Oh, gosh.

Oh, right. OK.

Strange, I hadn't noticed.

Doesn't seem cramped
to me at all.

I hadn't noticed either!

-So tomorrow. What's the plan?
-What's tomorrow?

-It's Mother's Day.
-That's not a thing.

-Yes, it is.
-No, it's only a thing in America.

No, I think it's here as well.

So, chance to show her
you appreciate her.

Mum knows we appreciate her.

DEB: Can one of you
bring in my glasses?

Are your legs f*cking broken?

Sorry. That was Josie.

I don't think she would
enjoy Mother's Day.

She prefers to think of herself as
a straight-talking older sister.

I was thinking cream tea.

You could treat her.

-Good idea. Two birds, one stone.
-Excellent.

Deb will be so happy.

DOOR LOCKS

He's such a nonce.

You can't call people a nonce
just cos they're annoying.

-You can if they're a nonce.
-Mum's not tired.

She's anxious.

-We're trapped in this f*cking hellhole of a house.
-Yeah, well,

unless you get sectioned again,
you're f*cking stuck here.

-There's no escape.
-Are you running a bath?

-Can you save me the water?
-f*ck off, Seb!

-You know I'm third in the rotation.
-But yesterday you said...

SPEECH MUFFLED

There, fixed.

DEB: It's bath-time!

Why is this door locked?

Locked doors are ill*gal.

WATER STOPS

It's all yours.

SHE SIGHS

Wonderful.

THUD, SHE SCREAMS

Yum-yum-yum. Cream tea.

How wonderful to be
celebrating Mother's Day,

and all to show Deb how
much we appreciate her.

Can't wait to feast on...

Wait. This menu is only, like,
stupid little sandwiches and stuff.

-Where are all the mains?
-Billie, that's what a cream tea is.

As much egg and watercress
as you can manage.

-It's amazing.
-Plants in bread - a revelation.

Well, eat whatever horrible
old sh*t you like. It's on me.

Is Deb really worried
about the boxes?

Are you sure she's not just really,
really tired? A sleepy lady.

Probably worried you're going
to leave. Their dad left.

You need to keep reminding them
you're going to stick around.

That's what I do.

Look at Josie now.

Thriving.

Weird. I really
thought she was there.

Yes, um, so sorry.

I've taken an absolutely
bloody massive overdose

and I need to be sectioned.

Just a fizzy water for me.

Does anyone know
where my wife is?

-She's at the hospital.
-What for?

Women's issues.

Again?

Wow.

HE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY

I mean, WOW.

This is crazy.

I've got to go.

Be right back.

All right. You've
got to have this.

It might make you feel sick,
but it'll flush your system.

How many pills did you take?

A lady never tells.

-We need to know.
-Trust me - enough.

-I just need you to section me, OK?
-Why?

Because I loved it.

Regular meal times.

Lights out. Very clear
set of rules to adhere to.

Strawberry jam in
a tiny foil packet.

A buxom motherly nurse
to play giant chess with.

It was amazing. Please
keep me in, mother me.

I can't do anything

until you tell me how
many pills you took.

Be honest. You can tell
me. We don't judge.

We're here to help you. How
many pills did you take?

Two.

Well, I would have taken more.

I was starting to worry
it was a bit dangerous.

FOOTSTEPS

-Did they let you out already?
-Didn't get in.

Too many marbles.
Not enough pills.

So, are you going to
do everyone a favour

and just k*ll yourself, then?

Nah, I'm going to go private.

That sounds expensive.

Which is great, cos
I've got a job for you.

Graham's over there with
his stupid, ugly wife.

I need you to take care of her.

What, k*ll her?

No! Distract her.

There's money in it for
you. Rock-hard cash.

Sugar babies can make
a f*ck tonne of money.

I'll give you a car. Hello,
business class sectioning.

Premium breakdown with
no expense spared.

I'm just not sure I'm very
comfortable being your pimp.

Not pimp. A business manager.

Do whatever you need to do

to manage me f*cking
that old man for money.

-His wife looks nice.
-Trust me.

She's a geriatric old crone
and a pain in my arse.

Right, there's Mr
Daddy. Showtime.

And you CAN k*ll
her if you have to.

At her age, it's the
kindest thing to do.

So, Dev, obviously, as much
as I love all your stuff

being in the house,

I was just wondering
if you got any closer

to working out what you'd
like to do with your life.

You know, every day
I get a bit closer.

But the main thing is,
I'm not going anywhere.

I'm staying by
your side forever.

-Nothing to eat?
-No, thanks. Not hungry.

No wonder you're so tired.
You've got no energy.

Food equals energy.

So...

Please...

For me...

Now... swallow.

There you go. I'm proud of you.

Not so sleepy any more, are you?

TOILET FLUSHES

Miss me, stranger?

Billie! What the hell are
you doing? My wife is here.

Please, I told you, I don't
want to be your sugar daddy.

And you're not my sugar baby.

Poor man.

Still in denial.

If you want VIP access to
the Perfect p*ssy Club,

it comes at a price.

I gave you money outside my
house to get you to leave.

I get it, you're scared.

Scared of being
with a real woman.

Scared of getting everything
you've ever wanted.

I'm scared of my wife finding out.
This whole affair was a mistake.

Perhaps you need a reminder of
what you've been missing out on.

-No. Thank you.
-Well, how am I supposed to make any money

if you're too much of a
wuss to let me f*ck you?

Look, um, if you need money,

here's everything I've got.

It's all in pound coins. Sorry.

I like to have spares
for the big-shop trolley.

-Please leave me alone.
-£12?

f*cking hell.

All right, I'll suck you off,
but I won't cover my teeth.

Billie...

No.

Sorry, do you know
where all the mains are?

This is all stupid little
sandwiches and sh*t.

That's what an afternoon
tea is, sweetheart.

It's all egg and cress and
hummus and roasted vegetables.

-Mmm. Yummy.
-You all right, dear?

-You look a bit unwell.
-I don't feel very well, actually.

Oh, dear. Do you think you
should perhaps sit down?

SHE VOMITS

Daddy, wait. This
one's for free.

What are you looking at?

Yeah. All right. He's old,
but he's really grateful.

So stop being so f*cking
close-minded, OK?

He's my dad.

SHE VOMITS

Oh, poor love. You're
not very well, are you?

-No, I'm not, actually.
-Can I get you something?

How about a paracetamol?

Oh, no, thanks, I've had enough.

-I'm sorry about all this.
-Oh, that's all right.

-I'm a doctor.
-What kind of doctor?

A neurosurgeon.

You fix people's brains.

You could say that, yes.

Do you have anyone you want
me to call or anything?

Are you here with your mum?

-Yeah. Why?
-Should I go and get her?

She's probably worried.

JOSIE LAUGHS

You're funny.

Every girl needs her mother.

Well, um, I'd better
get back to my table.

My daughter's waiting.

Right, now I've taken a bite,

seems only fair you
should go back to work.

No. I'm the happiest
I've ever been.

The corporate rat
race is not for me.

The old Dev is dead. I buried
him, and I don't know about you,

I kind of like this guy.

Well, I like the old Dev.

Well, too bad,
because he's dead.

Listen to me. I am
not going anywhere.

Even if I never make
any money again,

I am staying by your side.

You're stuck with me.

-Happy Mother's Day.
-She's not your mother.

-I'd be lucky if she was.
-So you want to f*ck your mother?

If she were Deb, absolutely!

A wonderful mother.

Josie, you look like dog sh*t.

I don't feel very well.

I didn't ask for your
f*cking life story.

How did it go?

Business is booming.

There was a small snag,
though, but I've sorted it.

-Small snag?
-His daughter saw.

Oh. Oh, that's fine.

-How old is she?
-Probably doesn't even know what sex is.

Yeah, hard to tell with
kids. Maybe, like, six.

She'll be happy for me.
Desperate for a new mummy

given her one's doing the
crossword in God's waiting room.

-Nobody believes little kids anyway.
-Yeah.

I did have to give her
a little bribe, though.

Billie, as your manager,

I really feel like I should be
consulted on things like this.

It's just business. It's sorted.

And now I can go back to the
business of f*cking her dad.

A word.

Lucy, please.

I'm with my family.

Now.

-More.
-Please be reasonable, Lucy.

What did she give you, like,
a Kinder Egg, or something?

You're not having any
more of my f*cking coke.

Billie, did you give
cocaine to a six-year-old?

-I'm 15. -Me too.
-Yeah, you wish.

Give me my f*cking coke!

Lucy, no. We shook on it.

You've got such a tiny nose.

You can't cut me off.

-You owe me big time.
-Oh, are you going to tell your mum?

I'm so scared! You want your
parents to divorce, do you?

Yeah. I can't wait for them
to split up. I hate my dad,

and my mum's a f*cking wet
old lady with no backbone.

Don't speak about her like that!

She's a highly
respected neurosurgeon.

Who the f*ck are
you? You look insane.

Yeah, well, joke's on you,

because I've tried
to k*ll myself twice,

-so I bet you feel bad now.
-Yeah. I feel bad

that you're not very
good at k*lling yourself.

Why do you need a
sugar daddy anyway?

-Not got a real daddy at home?
-I do.

And he'll reply to my
text when he's ready.

He's still thinking
about what to say.

Billie, a moment to confer?

-I think we should let her tell them.
-What?

Think about it. Why are
we protecting this family?

Don't you want
Graham to yourself?

If they split up, you know
he's going to pick you.

You're right. I would
have Graham to myself.

He'd have more money for
me, and he'll spend less on

that six-year-old kraken out
there and his stupid, ugly wife.

-Yeah, stupid, lovely wife.
-Ugh.

My client has a request for you.

Ask your dad how
my p*ssy tastes.

That b*tch has no idea how much
of a crusty old c*ck-block she is.

She's not that bad.

You fancy her! You're wet for
a frigid old neurosurgeon.

-My business is at stake.
-But I love her.

Trust you to fall in love
with the first mother figure

who pays you any attention.

Pathetic. Why can't you pick
on someone your own age?

Hello, Mr Daddy.

Girls, if there is one piece
of advice I can give you,

it's value your independence.

You do not want to end up with
a man like Dev sucking me dry.

Well, that's why it was my idea
to take you out for cream tea.

I love you so much, Mum.

What are you actually
doing for a new job again?

Um, she's an assistant
to an old man.

Bloody hell. He must be paying
you well. What does he do?

He's a house husband,
neglected by his wife.

She's a neurosurgeon. Hasn't
got time to look after him.

Well, there's two
sides to every story.

Yet another man
scrounging off his wife.

Treat the wife well,
that's what I say.

If that wife was brave enough,

she'd cut him the f*ck
loose. Then what would he do?

Mmm? Kiss all that
lovely cash goodbye.

It's his wife's money.

There we go.

Hopefully that's
balanced the account.

And the rest.

Just... really don't feel comfortable
giving that much cocaine to a child.

Daddy!

Oh!

f*ck's sake, Josie,
just give it to her.

Oh!

There we go.

That was easy, wasn't it?

Enjoy your f*cking coke.

Enjoy f*cking my dad.

Wow. For me?

Nope. I'd like to make
a little announcement.

It may be Mother's Day,

but it's also Father's Day,

because we're pregnant.

We didn't want to
tell anyone too early.

In fact, haven't even talked
to Josie about it yet.

But I'm just too excited.
I'm going to be a daddy.

Get in there, my son!

Josie's not pregnant.

Trust me, she is.
Mood swings, nausea -

every night whenever
I'm in the mood.

She's been in the hospital
with women's issues.

-She's pregnant.
-No, she's not.

You'd have to be having
sex to get pregnant.

Well, if those sex noises
aren't coming from Josie's room,

whose room could
they be coming from?

-Yeah. No clue. Maybe she is.
-Well, where is she?

You two have hardly
f*cking been here.

She's in the toilet.
She's just been sick.

Yeah. Morning sickness.

I bet she's all sweaty
and agitated too.

A classic pregnant woman.

-You've not touched your food, Deb.
-I'll finish it.

-I'm eating for two now anyway.
-Where will you live?

Uh, I was hoping
we'd live with you.

There's enough room for a
little one, isn't there?

I should hope so. We'll have
a cosy little commune of love.

Where the f*ck will a baby
go? In one of Dev's boxes?

Don't be silly. They've
got my records in.

I'm going to teach
him how to play catch.

Obviously, I have to learn
how to do that myself -

but I've got a nine-month head
start on the little bugger.

-Who's going to cook and clean up after it?
-Well, it's just dinner.

How hard can throwing a couple more
chicky nuggs on the baking tray be?

He's not having my
f*cking chicky nuggs.

I'm saying we put
more on the tray.

We already finish the bag.
We'd have to buy another bag.

Who's paying for that, Seb? You
haven't thought this through at all!

Dev, it's just occurring
to me right now.

I'm just thinking about
your big, empty house.

Yes. There's no takers yet.

Well, you know,
until there is...

Oh, I'm never setting foot
in it again. It's massive.

Impractical.

Besides, it wouldn't
be respectful to Lisa.

Or to you.

I've made up my mind.
Deb, I promise you,

we're never going in
that house ever again.

The end.

SHE WHEEZES

What's going on?

SHE GASPS

-Is she all right?
-All right, then, I WILL tell you.

I've got anxiety.
OK? It's anxiety.

Oh, darling, there's nothing
to be a bit worried about.

I'm not just tired.

It's f*cking anxiety.

I've got so much f*cking
anxiety I can't eat.

Well, you've shocked
me there. Are you sure?

See, as an empath, I'm usually so
good at picking up on these things.

-Wow. I'm an empath too.
-And me. Look at us!

Table full of empaths.

So much empathy at this
table, I could explode.

THEY LAUGH

It's amazing none of us
have picked up on the fact

that we're all empaths,
considering we're all empaths!

We're saying the
word empath so much,

it's like it's lost all meaning.

THEY CHUCKLE

Listen to me, Mum.

Don't let Josie get in your
head. You haven't got anxiety.

You're just tired.

Yes. All right. Yes.

I haven't got anxiety.

I'm just a tired, sleepy lady.

Thank you, Billie.

Happy Mother's Day.

Look, you're obviously g*y and
trapped in a loveless marriage.

We already have so much in
common, we could be free.

I was helping you
because you were unwell

and I'm a doctor.

So you don't want
to be my, um...

-...sugar mummy?
-No, thank you. -OK.

What would it take for you
to be my actual mother?

I'm not your mother.

How many pills do I need to take
for someone to care about me?

-You don't want to do that.
-Just say when.

-One? -No.
-Two?

Spit out those f*cking pills.

This girl's having a
mental health crisis.

Don't worry about it. She
never takes more than two.

-All talk and no trousers.
-Please, can you help me find her mother?

-I am her mother.
-Well, can you help her, then?

Don't fall for it. She just
wants attention. Honestly.

Kids! Get out.

She was the love of my life.

Get over yourself.

-Thank you.
-Now, tell me, are you pregnant?

-What? No.
-Where the f*ck have you been, then?

I was in hospital. I
tried to get sectioned.

Oh, my f*cking God!

Yes! NOT PREGNANT!

I have never been
so proud of you.

She was a neurosurgeon.

She was going to fix my brain.

Oh, darling...

...that will take much
more than surgery.

Fantastic news, everyone.
She's not pregnant.

-She was just depressed.
-Wow. You'd think this room full of empaths

would have picked up on that!
What a day of curve ba*ls.

Come on, mate. Don't
let them see you crying.

It's not manly.

And now I can eat!

I've never felt relief
like this in my whole life.

Delicious.

Well, dinner's on Graham.

Where's my cut?

One, two.

Yeah, sorry, it's
all in pound coins.

His wife only lets him
carry small change.

-£2? -Yeah, that feels fair.
-He gave me £12.

Sorry, he gave you
£12 to suck him off?

That was all the
cash he had on him.

Right, that's it. I'm running
a f*cking business here.

-Excuse me.
-Did you ask your dad how my p*ssy tastes?

-That man owes us f*cking money.
-Oh, for goodness' sake, Graham.

Do you think my sister's
blowjobs are only worth £12?

All right. Calm down.

We are working through Graham's
sex addiction together.

-What?
-Marriage has its difficulties,

but we are a family,
and we stick together.

Well, I quit. You're no
longer my sugar daddy.

-It's over.
-I never was your sugar daddy.

So why the f*ck was I sucking
you off at cream tea, then?

-I did ask you to stop.
-Yeah, well, he's a nonce.

-I'm 15. - No, you're not. - I could be.
-Well, when were you born?

Well, I'm younger than
you, you dry old fossil.

How much would it cost for you
to never speak to us again?

One...

Two...

£5 million.

-I have a 20.
-Thank you.

You pensioners
deserve each other.

Enjoy the last few years
you have left. See ya.

Unless you f*ck girls?

No?

OK, then.

Happy Mother's Day.

Yes! Business is booming.

Suck my d*ck, NHS.

Hello, private room with
Diazepam in the minibar.

Sorry, I need this.

You have no idea how
expensive cocaine is.

How did you get
that much, anyway?

A lady never tells.

-Well, did your mum say I could stay?
-I'm working on it, Nicky.

I took her out for
cream tea today,

-buttering her up.
-Crack on, love.

I'm living off your
f*cking vapes in here.

-Trust me, I'm being so nice to her.
-DEB: Billie, can you help me?

I've dropped one of my
crutches down the stairs.

Get it yourself.
It's only a sprain.

So nice.

OK, but how many do I
need to take to get in?

Are we talking double figures?

I think we could
do it, you know.

Not a lot of things in this life
are for sure, but it's you and me.

I love you more than anything.

And if I can make something
as perfect as you,

well, baby, I'd be selling
my sperm on the black market.

This could be something
for us to live for.

We could start a new life.

Away from here?

Anything you want.

OK, then.

Seriously?

Oh, my God.

Deb, I know you've been
worrying about space,

and I've really heard you.

Are we moving into your house?

Even better!

There's something I
wanted to show you.

You've been so very
tired lately, Deb,

and we all need a break, and
this has been in storage since...

Well, anyway.

I think it's time
we brought her back.

Here she is.

Isn't she lovely?

f*cking hell.

He's gone insane.

The man's dumped a midlife
crisis on our driveway.

I told you - he's a nonce.

HE STRAINS

-Heavy?
-That's heavy.

So would you maybe think about
seeing a doctor for your anxiety?

Listen, I don't have anxiety.

It's a big fuss over nothing.
It's all about perspective.

I mean, yes, it is a boat, but
at least it's not a f*cking baby.

All this time I've been thinking
things cannot get any worse.

That's not true.

Things could always be worse.

Things could always be worse.

I knew you'd love her, Deb,
because I'm such an empath.

I know what makes you happy.