1- Is that your mum’s bread?
You didn’t have to throw the whole loaf. That would’ve killed me.
You the one who was throwing bloody great loaves at the ducks?
Yeah, he was, but I’ve stopped him now.
You know, boys will be boys, and all that.
So he killed it.
No. Sorry, I misunderstood you. The duck was dead already.
He was throwing bread to try and sink the body…
…because Megan here was getting upset.
Marcus wouldn’t kill a duck. Would you, Marcus?
No. I love ducks. They’re my second favorite animal after dolphins.
They can kill sharks with their noses.
I’ll have to wade in and get it.
Listen, I hope it’s not some sort of epidemic.
I think we beat the rap there, mate.
That day, the Dead Duck Day, was when it all began.
That bloke Will just followed us in and I didn’t tell him not to.
Afterwards, I realized that there was no way I could have been nervous just then…
…because just then I didn’t know there was anything to be nervous about.
But then I put the key in the lock, opened the door…
Are you decent?
And a new part of my life started.
Oh, my God.
– Will, call an ambulance. – Marcus, where’s the phone?
Where’s the phone, mate?
It was horrible. Horrible.
But driving fast behind the ambulance was fantastic.
She was okay in the ambulance.
She was asking after you, Marcus.
That’s nice of her.
Listen, you know this has nothing to do with you, don’t you?
I mean, you’re not the reason that she…
You’re not the reason that she’s here. Isn’t that right, Will?
Yeah, that’s right.
I’ll go get you some water.
– I can get that. – No, you’re okay.
Your mum’s going to be okay.
Yeah, I suppose.
That’s not the point, though, is it?
Right, you mean you’re afraid she might try again?
Just shut up, all right?
There you go, warm and flat.
Are you with Fiona Brewer?
Yes, I’m her friend Suzie.
This is Marcus and Will.
She’s recovering well, but we’ll keep her overnight.
I’m going to get a consent form for Ms. Brewer so the boy can stay with you two tonight.
So, my place or yours?
– I should get back to Ned, I think. – I’ll take that.
All in all, this was very interesting.
So I’ll call.
But I wouldn’t want to do it every night.
See you soon.
The thing is, a person’s life is like a TV show.
I was the star of The Will Show.
And The Will Show wasn’t an ensemble drama.
Guests came and went, but I was the regular.
It came down to me, and me alone.
If Marcus’ mum couldn’t manage her own show…
…if her ratings were falling, it was sad, but that was her problem.
Ultimately, the whole single-mum plot line was a bit complicated for me.
I got the letter. Thanks.
Oh, my God. I’d forgotten.
You forgot a suicide letter?
I didn’t think I’d have to remember it, did I?
Did you read the part where I said I’d always love you?
It’s a bit hard for you to love me when you’re dead, isn’t it?
I can understand why you’re angry, Marcus.
I don’t feel the same as I did yesterday, if that’s any help.
It’s all just gone away? All that?
…at the moment, I feel better.
“At the moment” is no good to me.
I can see you feel better at the moment. You just put the kettle on.
But what happens when you finish your tea? What happens when I go back to school?
– I can’t be here to watch you all the time. – I know.
We have to look after each other. The two of us.
Suddenly I realized two people isn’t enough.
You need a backup.
If you’re only two people, and someone drops off the edge…
…then you’re on your own.
Two isn’t a large enough number.
You need three, at least.
– Three what? – Nothing.
But I’d had a great idea.
The important thing in island living is to be your own activities director.
I find the key is to think of a day as units of time…
…each unit consisting of no more than 30 minutes.
Full hours can be a little bit intimidating…
…and most activities take about half an hour.
Taking a bath: One unit.
Exercising: Three units.
Having my hair carefully disheveled: Four units.
It’s amazing how the day fills up.
I often wonder, to be absolutely honest…
…if I’d ever really have time for a job.
How do people cram them in?
Yeah, Will here.
It’s Marcus. Pardon?
How’d you get my number?
I thought you’d like to take me out for the day on Saturday.
And why did you think that, Marcus?
Suzie said we hit it off.
Did she? Yeah.
– And you said, “See you soon. ” – I said what?
“See you soon. ”
The night you dropped us off. Remember? You said, “See you soon. ”
This is soon, all right, Marcus.
The thing is, mate, my life is kind of hectic at the moment.
Why? I thought you did nothing.
I’ve got Ned and stuff to look after.
Matter of fact, I should be on the way to preschool right now.
What’s that noise?
That’s a lawn mower.
So, you know, just time-wise it’s not…
Tell you what, just hold the line one sec.
Hold on, one sec. Thanks.
But then I thought, “Why not?”
Why shouldn’t I take the poor little sod out for a meal?
I could be Uncle Will. Cool Uncle Will, King of the Kids.
Okay, Marcus. You’re on.
I’ll come if you take my mum, too.
She has no money, so we’ll have to go somewhere cheap or you’ll have to treat us.
Listen, don’t beat about the bush, Marcus.
Why should I? We’re poor. You’re rich. You pay.
Bring your little boy, I don’t mind.
That’s really big of you.
Fine. Come round at 12:30 or something.
Remember where we live?
Flat 2, 31 Craysfield Road, Islington, London, N12SF.
England, the world, the universe.
So, Fiona, how are you?
– I mean, how are you feeling? – My stomach’s fine.
I must still be a bit barmy, though.
This kind of thing doesn’t go away overnight, does it?
If Mum was going to get Will to marry her, she’d have to quit making jokes.
At least she looked good.
I had her put on that nice hairy jumper…
…and the earrings she got from her friend that went to Zimbabwe.
The kid seemed to think this was a date.
As for his mum, she was clearly insane…
…and appeared to be wearing some kind of Yeti costume.
This had better be quick. We were definitely not ordering starters.
I’ll start with the artichoke, please.
Then I’ll have a mushroom omelet with fries and a Coke.
– I’ll have the vegetable platter. – We’re vegetarians.
I’d never have guessed.
Steak sandwich, please, mate. Thanks.
This was going really well.
I wondered if we were going to move into Will’s place or move into someplace new.
“I heard he sang a good song
“I heard he had a style”
I knew, of course, the song couldn’t last forever…
…that I’d soon be at home, tucked up in bed.
I knew it, but I couldn’t feel it.
“And there he was, this young boy”
I must’ve been insane. All I’d wanted was a date with Suzie.
This was my punishment.
“Strumming my pain with his fingers”
The worst part was when they closed their eyes.
“Killing me softly with his song
“Killing me softly”
Come sing with us, Will.
I should really get going. Thanks.
That’s the problem with charity. You must mean it.
You have to mean things to help people.
Like the time I volunteered to help out at a soup kitchen…
…and very nearly made it.
Or the time at Amnesty International.
Did you know in Burma you get seven years in prison for telling jokes?
Next time you laugh, think of Pa Pa Lay, the Burmese standup comedian.
We’re at a crucial stage in our struggle for human rights…
…which have been grossly abused by the ruling junta.
We need your support more than ever.
Together we can make a difference…
You’re kidding. And what’s your boyfriend say about that?
Wait a minute. You say you haven’t got a boyfriend?
Talk about human rights violations.
Is that right? You’re in the bath now?
You have to mean things to help people.
Fiona meant Killing Me Softly.
Killing Me Softly meant something to her and look where she ended up.
Me, I didn’t mean anything, about anything, to anyone.
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