I was thinking of writing a letter,
boss, to the wife of the man I killed.
What would it say?
That not a day goes by without me thinking of him.
And she'd say, "So it should. You killed him."
I'm sorry, Eric. Your son's been attacked in Chapel Grove.
You'll have to pack your job in.
If you pack your job in, you're no use to them.
If you're no use to them,
then David's no use to them. That's it.
They'd kill him anyway.
You should see them. It's a chance to say sorry.
I'd give my right arm for that.
So you killed him so as not to lose face?
It's unforgivable.
She doesn't want us to send it. She doesn't want to read it.
Sorry.
Cheers, mate.
Anybody...? Anybody up?
Let me in, woman!
Cos I've got no keys. Let me in!
Tom! Tom!
Get this door open, will you?
Oh! What have you done that for, eh?!
What have you done that for?!
Stupid...
'King hell, all right.
Had a good night, mate?
I'll come and get you up, mate.
Come on now. Easy.
I know how to walk!
*CREDITS*
What is it?
A knife.
No knife.
What?
Three reasons.
One - if someone gets killed,
then I'm on a murder charge, cos I brought it in.
Two...
..could be a colleague.
Three - could be me.
I'm a supervising officer with 20 years of experience,
probably the most trusted man in this prison,
and I'm bringing stuff in for you.
That's a dream come true.
Why prejudice that by asking for weapons as well?
OK.
So, are we done for today?
OK.
Who would like to share with us today?
Brendan?
Would you like to?
So, I've to sing for my supper?
Yeah.
When I was 13, I murdered my best friend.
He was also 13.
And I've been locked up ever since.
I, er...
I did something, and...
..he didn't want to be my friend any more,
so I killed him.
I killed him with a brick.
My bedroom looked down into the street,
so I watched his aunts and uncles coming and going,
looking for him all night.
And then they must've called the police,
cos a police car came and they went in
and they stayed about an hour and then they left.
And...then they must've found him,
because the police came back and they went in.
And I heard his mother screaming.
I went to school the next morning and...
..the police came for me in the afternoon
with my ma and da.
I told them straight away I did it.
He didn't want to be friends, cos you did something?
And what was it?
You see him?
All the time?
Yeah.
It's horrible, isn't it?
- Hey, Mark, on you go. - Thanks.
Hiya.
- All right? - Yeah, all right.
What did he want?
Just brought us some tea there.
- Why? - He owed me one.
- Why? - All right, nose!
Fuck's sake.
You see, when you get two Os together like that,
it makes "oo".
So this is...
.."Sh-am-poo."
Shampoo.
There's lots of words with two Os in them.
Erm... Tool.
Fool.
- School? - Yeah. Yeah. School.
School's good, yeah.
Er...
Do you mind...? Do you mind if I ask you something?
- Yeah. - In confidence?
Yeah.
What happens if they find something in your cell?
Drugs?
A weapon?
Phone?
Would we both get the blame?
Depends.
And what would we get? Seg?
Time added on?
That depends too.
Right.
Well, back to the Os.
Er, why don't you try this one?
"Toothpaste."
Why don't you have a go at that? Hm?
Get rid of it.
I know about the phone.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Please get rid of it.
OK.
Come through, please.
Oh, that's nice.
Oh!
- All right? - All right, Dad.
How's the tooth?
Got in to the see the dentist, and, believe it or not, sorted.
Good.
- They leaving you alone? - Yeah. More than that, Mum.
I'm getting looked after. Can't do enough for me.
Think it's cos I took that pasting.
Didn't grass, didn't complain. I earned a bit of respect.
It's cos your dad's bringing stuff in for them.
What did you say that for?
Because I don't want him thinking they're his best mates
when the truth is they're just shitbags.
Your dad is bringing stuff in for them. He has been for months.
- That's why they're looking after you, son. - Stuff?
Drugs.
You've got to knock that in the head, Dad.
- It's just till we get you home. - Dad, you're a screw.
A screw bringing in drugs... You'll get five years.
- I won't get caught. - That's what I said.
- I'll move again. - Yeah. They'll find you again.
They won't.
Well, we can't keep you safe, son.
Wherever we put you, they'll find you.
Five years.
And you're a screw, so you'll have to do it with the nonces.
Five years with nonces.
What are you doing, Dad?
I won't get caught.
You never hug him.
Why not?
Just don't. I never have.
Yeah, but he's in prison now.
All right, I'll have Liverpool, Man City, and Chelsea as bankers.
I'll have Everton and Man United to lose
and all the others to draw.
Five draws?
- Yeah. - Are you sure?
Just put her on. Chantelle! Five o'clock...
Listen, ten minutes are nearly up, son, so...
- ..is Grandad there? - Who's that shouting?
I phoned both numbers, landline and mobile!
Bloke on the other phone. Is Grandad there?
- No. - No? Where is he?
- here you are. - I'll put Grandma on.
Why? What's wrong?
- Hi. - Hiya.
- I phoned both numbers! - Is my dad not there?
- No. - Where is he?
That's a lie, Chantelle!
I didn't want to worry you, but he's not well.
Pardon?
He's not well.
- Wait! - Why, what's wrong with him?
He's had a bit of a do.
- What, his heart again? - Sat there with your legs...
- Yes. - ..round that Tony kid!
- So, where is he? - That Tony kid, he's always sniffing round you!
- Mark, love, I can't hear you. - Excuse me. D'you mind, mate?
What have I just said?! Shut the fuck up now, you wool!
- Don't put the phone down! - Sorry, Mam.
The ambulance took him in.
He's in ITU. That's all I know.
Don't put the phone down on me.
Don't! You fucking little slag!
You little slag!
Oh, God.
Sorry, Mam. So how is he now, then?
I don't know.
He wasn't responding.
- Is he unconscious? - I don't know.
- Is he unconscious? - In your cell!
Did you go in with him?
- Put the phone down. - Can you hear me?
- Give me the phone. - What are you doing?
- I was on the phone to me mam... - Back in your cell!
I won't tell you again. Get back to your cell now!
Hello?
A five-minute phone call, that's all I'm asking.
If I let you use the phone, they'll all want to use it. Now let go.
Don't let me spend the night worried sick about my father.
- Please don't do that to me. - Get back to your cells.
- Let go of the door. - No. I won't let you do this.
If you don't let go, I'll nick you.
Speak to the chaplain first thing in the morning. Yeah, right.
She might be able to help.
- Get in your cell. - All right, boss.
Have you still got that mobile?
I'm really sorry, mate. I haven't, you know.
I got rid of it.
- I'm really sorry, mate. - Yeah.
Excuse me. Is it all right to talk to Miss
- just for a moment? - Yeah, sure.
- Hiya. - Yes.
Sorry, er...
Could you do something for me?
Yes.
I think my father had a heart attack yesterday.
- Oh, I'm sorry. - Yeah.
I need to know how he is.
Er, I was wondering if you could phone this number, it's my mother's,
- and ask her. - Yeah, of course.
- Thank you. - I'll do it right away.
Thanks, Miss.
Thanks.
- You all right, Miss? - Mm-hm.
Has he gone?
Yes.
I'm so sorry.
Would you like to phone your mother? I can organise that.
Yeah.
Yes, please.
Thank you.
Have you got anyone with you?
Yes.
Alicia's here. And our Joan.
He died peacefully, son.
Wa... Was it... Was it the shame of what I did?
Was it that that killed him?
No. No.
Can you come to the funeral?
I think so, but...
But what?
I'll be handcuffed to an officer, so...
..if...
..if you don't want me there, I'll understand.
Of course I want you there.
And I want you to speak about him as well.
Oh. I...
I'm going to have to go, Mam.
Er, ten minutes are up. It's going to go dead. All right.
- You ready? - Yeah.
Will you be able to go back to the house?
No. Church, graveyard, back here.
Right.
Well, I can't say, "Have a good one," can I?
- No. - Well, I hope it goes as well as it can.
Thanks.
Mark Cobden. Released with escort under special prison licence,
serial number 80462.
- OK. There we go, mate. - Ta.
OK.
Step into here for me.
Strip search, please.
- Out. - Why?
- Cell spin. - Cell spin?
- Yeah. - Why?
- Intel. - Intel about what?
Out, please.
Squat, please.
Right. Pants back on. Get dressed.
There's nothing here, though, boss.
- There's nothing here. - Out, please.
Now.
You're wasting your time, you know.
All right, I'm not going nowhere.
- I'm going to be your date for the day, all right? - Yes, boss.
Funerals can be emotional. Things get heated.
So, if any time I feel threatened by you,
your family or your friends,
then we'll get in that car and we'll come straight back here.
- Is that understood? - Yes, boss.
In you go.
Reception. Got prisoner Cobden,
CEVC 3944 here. Check?
Right, are we done?
Are you done, yeah?
That telly.
Nah, don't be pulling me telly apart.
Copy that.
All good for release. OK.
- All good. - Ta.
- Yours? - Yeah.
- Not your mate's? - Nah. Listen, he's burying his dad.
It's nowt to do with him. It's me. He knew nothing about it.
Stand there.
CE272 to reception.
Something's wrong.
Engine off.
Cobden?
Yeah.
You're going nowhere.
What?
They've just found a phone in your cell.
- A phone? - Yeah.
He told me he got rid of it.
Oh, mate!
What?
"He told me he got rid of it."
So you knew about it?
Oh, well, what are we going to do now?
We're going nowhere.
We'll have to get you back.
It's me father's funeral.
Look, I'm sorry.
- Where was it? - Back of the telly.
You told me you got rid of it.
Watch what you're saying, will you?
He knows.
How?
Cos I told him.
Why?
Cos I'm an idiot.
You told me you got rid of it.
Well, I lied.
So it was here that night?
That night I needed to phone about my dad?
Yeah.
And you said it wasn't.
Yeah.
Why?
Well, if you'd have used it, I'd be in trouble.
Huh.
Makes me a total knob, don't it?
Yeah. Total knob who'd sell his mother for drugs.
Yeah.
What are you doing?
They're splitting us up.
This way, son.
Mark.
Someone should phone
and let them know you won't be at the funeral.
Should I do that?
Please.
I could get the order of service from them
and we could follow it in the chapel.
Have our own little Mass.
Would you like that?
Are you allowed to do that?
I can do what you need me to do.
OK.
Is that your speech?
Yeah.
Shall I email it to them?
Please.
So, your dad will be getting there round about now.
Yes.
Your mum following.
Who'll be with her?
My wife Alicia.
My son Tom.
My Aunt Joan.
Thank you.
Er, there'll be other cars, but I don't know who'll be in them.
My dad outlived his siblings,
but they all had kids,
so they'll all be there, and their kids.
They'll... They'll all be there.
Father Duggan will sprinkle the coffin with holy water.
With this water, we call to mind John's baptism.
As Christ went through the deep waters of death for us,
so may he bring John to the fullness of resurrection
and life with all the redeemed.
- Amen. - Amen.
Let us acknowledge our sins,
that we may prepare ourselves
to celebrate the sacred mysteries.
I confess to almighty God...
..and to you, my brothers and sisters,
that I have greatly sinned...
..in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done
and in what I have failed to do...
..through my fault,
through my fault...
..through my most grievous fault.
Therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin,
all the Angels and Saints,
and you, my brothers and sisters,
to pray for me
to the Lord our God.
Amen.
Um...
Sadly, Mark can't be here today,
but this is the speech
he would have read.
"John Thomas Cobden
"was born in the 'hungry thirties',
"the fifth of nine children,
"all brought up in the same terraced house.
"Can't have been easy.
"He passed the scholarship to a Catholic grammar school,
"and hated it and left at 15.
"Grammar school boys
"didn't get their hands dirty back then,
"so he took a job in the office at Kirkmarsh....
"And that's where he met Mum.
Me.
"His retirement
"he spent fishing and watching football,
"and for the last six, seven years or so,
"watching the football with his grandson Tom.
"John Thomas Cobden.
"Good trade unionist,
"good angler...
"..good husband...
"..brilliant father."
I know that Mark thinks his father is ashamed of him
for what he did that dreadful day...
"..for the pain and grief
"he caused that poor man's family.
"He's right.
"But only for that one dreadful day.
For everything that came later...
..for the way in which he went to the police himself,
he confessed, he pleaded guilty,
he offered no plea in mitigation whatsoever...
..for the way in which he accepted his sentence
and would gladly have accepted longer...
..for the way in which he sees every day of his imprisonment
as one more day of atonement,
Mark's father...
..my John...
"..was prouder of his son than he'd ever been."
Thank you.
I owe you one.
Thanks.
No worries.
Thousands of fireworks are about to light up
the sky above the capital.
Ten, nine...
Big Ben's famous bongs will ring out at midnight.
..five, four, three,
two, one...
The judge sentenced me to life with a minimum of ten years.
And I've done 25 and this is, what, my sixth parole hearing?
And I know for a fact that parole will,
once again, be refused.
Not because I don't tick all the boxes. I do.
Because of this... I still haven't learnt who's boss.
I still haven't learnt to submit totally
to a prison officer.
I still have some independence of spirit.
You'd think you'd value that.
People who have some independence of spirit
would surely do better out there
than people who've been crushed, but no...
..you just want to show me who's boss.
You say you did something.
Something that made your victim
not want to be friends any more.
So you killed him.
Yeah.
What was it you did?
I'll answer that the way I've answered it
on each of the last five occasions I've been here.
I'm not prepared to say.
I'm Alexander Doyle.
Bobby Doyle, the victim, was my older brother.
I'm here today because both my parents have now died...
my dad a few years back and...
..my mum three months ago.
Both died of grief.
This man didn't just kill my brother that day,
he killed my parents too.
This man tries to paint himself
as some sort of free spirit fighting against the system.
Well, he's no such thing.
He's a murderer.
This man implies that he should've been out 15 years ago.
Well, my parents weren't.
Both served life.
This man refuses to reveal what he did with my brother...
..that thing he did which cost my brother his life.
OK, let's clear the room,
and he can tell me face to face,
cos I've got every right to hear it.
Can we go, please?
He'd have done anything for you.
And me too.
I told him that I loved him.
And, you know, I've been looking at loads
of college courses, but it's definitely something I'd like to do,
and I never would've thought of that without coming here.
OK. Who's next?
Go on, Liam. Go on.
I used to want to come here...
..to get sent here.
My dad was here.
Our Peter was here.
Other lads that I know,
they'd all talk about "crappy Craigmore".
"Three years I did," that's what me dad says,
"and I done it standing on me head."
And everyone laughs.
The truth is...
..I couldn't do three days here.
It's shit.
And everyone's always sad.
So I won't be coming back.
I won't be going to any nick.
Well done, lad.
How are you, Cobden?
I'm fine, Governor. Yeah.
Marie-Louise tells me you've been doing great work
- with the kids. - Well, you know...
We've been talking.
There's a crime and punishment conference next month.
They want a prisoner to speak.
I thought of you.
Speak about what?
Your crime. Your time here.
You'll be unescorted.
Marie-Louise has the utmost trust in you.
- A conference? - Yeah.
Lot of people, then?
A hundred or so.
I can barely talk to a handful of people in here,
never mind in front of a hundred, so...
I think you need to.
You did say you owed me one.
That's not fair.
I think it is.
- Where is it? - Crewe.
How would I get there?
Taxi and train.
On my own?
Yeah.
OK. I'll, er... Yeah, I'll do it.
OK. I'll make the arrangements.
I hear you're getting out for the day.
Crime and punishment conference, eh?
Yeah.
Alone? No kangas?
Yeah.
On the way back, I want you to call in somewhere for me.
- Why? - They'll sew something into the lining of your coat.
You come back here, leave it in Prop.
That's all you've got to do.
What will it be... what they sew in?
You don't need to know that.
I can't do it.
What?
I can't do it.
Do you or do you not owe me one?
I'm not that kind of man.
I can't walk in here with a load of drugs on me.
My knees'll be knocking. I'll give the game away.
I'm not the man you need.
You're exactly the man I need.
A teacher. A goody two-shoes.
Who'd suspect you?
No.
Please. Please...
Please ask me for something else. Anything else.
I know I owe you one, but...
..I'll repay it, but please, please don't ask me to do this.
21 Vale Road.
What is it?
21 Vale Road.
It's beside the old bridge. This side. Right?
Right.
You ask the driver to wait.
You'll only be five minutes.
Right.
- What'll you be wearing? - A suit.
Good.
What's the address again?
21 Vale Road.
Good.
Under the terms of this release on temporary licence,
you must refrain from alcohol or drugs.
You must not associate with anyone you know
to have a criminal record or to be of criminal intent.
You will be given a travel warrant
which you will exchange at the station for a rail ticket.
You will be given £25 in cash for essential purchases.
Receipts will be required for these purchases.
You have to be back here by 7.30pm.
If you're not back here by that time, you will be classed
as unlawfully at large and liable to arrest and penalty.
Do you have any questions?
No.
Just sign there for me.
My name is Mark Cobden.
And I was a school teacher.
I was always a drinker.
I always put booze first.
I put it before my wife, my son,
my job, everything.
But then, on 14th October 2017...
..that all changed.
Ooh.
Can I have another, please, Shannon?
Yes, of course.
Cheers.
Oh!
Oh.
Where have you been?
Er, departmental meeting.
- Again? - Yeah. I know.
All right, son? Hi, Dad.
Shall I take over?
No. It's done. You're cooking tomorrow, though.
Huh? Right.
- How was school? - All right.
- What did you get up to? - Not much.
You finished your homework?
Yeah.
- I'm going upstairs. - Right.
What's wrong?
I just killed someone.
- What? - I just killed someone.
A cyclist.
I drove into him.
Where?
Carr Lane.
We've got to go to the police.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Yeah.
Tom?
You'll have to drive.
Have you been drinking?
Yeah.
- You promised. - I know.
I know. I just...
Are you over the limit?
Yeah.
Inside, Tom. Oh.
Inside right now, please.
- Right now, Tom! - All right!
Let's go.
The police found three bars of chocolate on him.
He'd bought one for me,
one for Freddie and one for Molly.
He'd have waited for us to finish our dinner
and he'd have said,
"Go and look what's in my coat,"
and he'd have watched Freddie's eyes light up
on finding the chocolate.
His last thoughts were for me and Freddie and Molly.
He was the most selfless man, Your Honour.
The irony is...the most selfless man in the world
has been killed by the most selfish,
by a man who'd drink four large vodkas
and climb into his car
and not give a damn for the safety and wellbeing of others.
By a man who'd put his own comfort and convenience
above other people's lives.
By a man...
..who'd leave the person he killed
lying like a dog on the pavement.
That man deserves to go to prison
for a long, long time.
That man deserves to rot in prison and burn in hell,
so may you do that, you bastard!
Please, Mrs Warren...
- May you rot in prison and burn in hell! - Be seated.
I offered nothing in mitigation, no excuses.
I drank four large vodkas.
And the second I turned the key in that ignition,
I killed that man.
Me.
No-one else.
The trouble is when there are no excuses,
the guilt is overwhelming,
the flashbacks more and more devastating.
I dreaded those flashbacks
at the start of my sentence...
...but a year or so passed and, er...
..I started to welcome them.
I saw them as atonement, you see.
A few months later...
...I realised that I'd been kidding myself.
They weren't atonement at all.
They were simply a reminder of the need to atone.
More months passed and I realised
I was still kidding myself,
cos you can never atone,
you can never atone for the killing of another human being.
All you can do is try.
So how do I do that?
How do I try to atone?
Well...
..as corny as it sounds...
..by living a good life.
If... If I'm allowed to,
I'll continue to work with teenagers at risk.
I'll refrain from alcohol.
And I'll try and live a good life.
Thank you.
Here we are, mate. Vale Road.
- Everything all right? - Yeah.
Yeah, just take me back.
- OK? - No.
Couldn't do it.
Why not?
I need to live a good life
and bringing drugs into prison is not living a good life.
You're serious?
Yeah.
You'd sooner take a caning?
Yeah.
Caning it is, then.
There's three balls missing here, lads.
Anyone seen the balls off this pool table?
You lot, there's three balls missing off this table here.
Where are they?
Any of you seen where these balls have gone off this table?
I'm not messing about now!
Where's the balls off the table?
Hey! Hey! There's two balls missing here!
Where are they? I'll spin your cells!
Right, I'll give yous one last chance
or I'm sounding the alarm. Where's the balls?
Right, you leave me no choice. Yeah? No choice.
We're going to spin every single one of your cells.
Start getting back to your cells.
Three balls missing here.
Break his bones.
Oi! Get off him!
That's enough, Jackson.
What's it to do with you?
Plenty. Right?
Fine.
Shit.
Mark?
Boss!
OK? Bye.
In there, please, Eric.
Why?
Random search.
Let's not do this here.
How did you know?
I called Chapel Grove Prison.
They told me your son was getting treated really well.
Asked myself why.
I had no choice, Joanne.
I know.
I'm really sorry.
-Hello? - It's me.
- Where are you calling from? - Police station.
What?
They searched me this morning on me way in.
Oh, no.
They're going to keep me here,
and magistrates' in the morning.
- This isn't fair. - Love, it's Craigmore.
Will you, er...? Will you bring me some...
..some soap and some toothpaste, please?
And I've only got me work gear,
so can you bring me some clobber?
No, because you'll get bail.
No, I won't. They've asked me to name names.
Well, you can't.
I know.
God, you've only done what any father would've done.
I'm just ironing a shirt for you.
Eric?
All right.
- Ta-ra. - Eric?
Eric?
You ready?
Yeah.
Aye aye.
- Hey, Kav. - You getting off, then?
Yeah.
Yeah, I've left some stuff in there for you,
for you and Paul, if you want it.
Yeah. Cheers.
Shall I write? Show off a bit?
Yeah.
Good idea!
I'll write to you first, let you know where I am and that.
- Eh? - Great. Yeah.
Thanks.
Oh, thank you, Kav. Thank you.
Come on, mate. Yeah?
Look after yourself, Mark.
You an' all.
You don't come back, yeah?
Yeah. I'll... I'll try not to.
- See you, then. - See you.
- See you, mate. - Ta-ra.
Do you think I could see Daniel?
Yeah.
Hey, you all right?
It's me, Mark.
Mark?
Yeah.
You OK?
Yeah. I am. Getting out, mate.
Right.
I still see him.
Gerard?
I still see him, man.
Well, good luck, yeah?
Right, come on.
Yeah.
Some of these are up in court, so they'll go first.
Some of them are moving prison, so they go second.
But you are getting out...
- ..so you'll go last. - OK.
- Good luck, mate. - Oh, thanks.
All right, Mr Mac?
All right, Mark?
Can I?
Yeah. Yeah.
You up for sentencing?
Yeah.
Yeah. You getting out?
Yeah.
How long did you do in the end?
Two years.
Time flies when you're having fun, eh?
Yeah.
How long will you get?
Three, if I'm lucky.
Five, if I'm not.
I won't be doing it here, though.
Offer me four and I'd snatch your hand off.
You were a good officer.
Firm but fair, you know.
Thanks.
Your Honour, I can't give you his name.
You know, he's in jail
and yet he can order men 200 miles away in another jail
to batter me son.
And if I give you his name, then it'll just happen again.
Now, you told me if I don't name his name, then...
..you know, I'll get a longer sentence.
But I was prepared to smuggle drugs into my own prison
to protect my son.
You know, me, an officer,
22 years' impeccable service,
smuggling drugs into his own nick.
And if I was prepared to do that
to protect our son...
..then I'm more than ready to do another year or so
for him, Your Honour.
Consideration will be given
to your impeccable career
and the full one-third discount for your guilty plea,
but, in all the circumstances, that is all that can be offered.
Eric McNally, you will go to prison for four years.
Take him down, please.
There was no way we weren't going down!
We were going down cos...
Just to one side, please.
Go through.
Hiya.
Look at you!
_
Hello.
Thanks for coming.
Would you like to sit down?
Er, do you want something?
- No. No, thanks. - Tea or coffee?
I'm fine, thanks.
Er, do you mind if I ask how your family are?
No.
They're...
..good.
You've got a son?
Yeah. Er, Tom.
- How's he? - Tom? He's good too.
You wrote me a letter.
Yeah. What did it say?
I've...
..got it here. There it is.
"Sorry."
Yeah.
Who does it help, me reading it?
You or me?
Um...
Me.
Does... Tom know you were in prison?
Huh. Yeah.
Does he know what you did?
Yeah.
People will always know what I did.
Everybody.
I owe it to me.
I owe it to you. I owe it to your kids.
And I owe it to your husband.
This is my address.
If you write again, I... I will read it.
I want to forgive you, you see.
I need to forgive you, because it's...
But I can't.
I've...tried, and I can't.
But I'll keep on trying.
I promise you I'll keep on trying.
Maybe one day.
Thank you.
Er...
Have you managed to stay teetotal?
Yeah.
It's been nearly four years now.
*CREDITS*