SCOTT BAILEY - MANCHESTER - 2019

(Tasie, now 19, and heavily pregnant sits on the floor surrounded by puzzle pieces. A mixed race toddler, whose hair looks like it hasn't been brushed in days, sits a few feet away folding her arms and frowning. Tasie picks up a puzzle piece.)

Tasie: Listen, if you don't help tidy you won't get a biscuit.

Toddler: I want a biscuit!

Tasie: Then c'mon.

Toddler: No! (The toddler whines and bangs her heels.)

Tasie: (sighs feeling exhausted and defeated for a moment and then gets creative. She holds the puzzle piece to the floor and puts on a voice.) "Oh, no, we've got to help them get to safety! Grab anyone you can." (She picks up another puzzle piece) "Help us. Help." "Don't worry I've got ya." (She pretends the puzzle piece lifts the other and drags it into the puzzle box. The toddler's interest is peaked in this new game.) "Help us!"

Toddler: Don't worry. I'm here. (The toddler then begins putting the puzzle pieces in the box.)

Tasie: You've almost saved all of them. Keep going. (The toddler does and then stands up when she's decided she's done with the game. She now is smiling ear to ear and is the spitting image of her mother, Rachel.) Oh no, looks like you missed one.

Toddler: No.

Tasie: C'mon, you've gotta save it.

Toddler: No, he died.

Tasie: Oh. (She stifles a laugh with how seriously the toddler has said this and then wonders to what extent she can even understand death.)

Toddler: I need a biscuit now.

Tasie: That's not how you ask. (Tasie picks up the remaining puzzle piece and then struggles to lift her pregnant self from the floor. She makes it to her feet and goes to the small kitchen and retrieves a biscuit for the toddler. The little girl takes it and begins eating.) What do you say?

Toddler: Cheers.

Tasie: I guess. (Opens her mobile and calls "Mum")

Janet: Hiya. I'm just leaving work. Is everything alright? It's not time is it?

Tasie: No Mum. Not yet.

Janet: Alright. Is Sam there with you?

Tasie: No.

Janet: D'you need anything?

Tasie: No, Mum listen.

Janet: Alright.

Tasie: Have you seen your boss today?

Janet: Of course I have. Why?

Tasie: I'm going on night three here wif the little one.

Janet: Night three?!

Tasie: Yeah, and I mean, I'm grateful for the cash and that but I'd just sorta like to know if she plans on ever seeing her again, or if I've become a mum early.

Janet: Has she not been in touch?

Tasie: Not all day. The past two days, she's facetime'd with her to say goodnight or whatever but, today, I haven't got a single text.

Janet: She's got a lot on her plate at the moment.

Tasie: Yeah so have I!

Janet: I know, I know. Don't you worry. I'll talk to her.

Tasie: Thanks Mum.

Janet: Love you. (The phone hangs up. Janet sighs and gets out of her car. She is still in the carpark of MIT and she returns to the building.)

(Janet knocks on the closed door marked "DCI - Rachel Bailey". She hears a muffled "Yeah?" and then pushes it open. Rachel barely looks up from her paperwork as Janet closes the door.)

Rachel: I thought you were off home.

Janet: I was. When do you think you are?

Rachel: Dunno. We're no closer to getting these bastards. Something's here. (She motions over the folders and papers on her desk.) We're just overlooking it. I know it. (She looks back down.)

Janet: Might you be overlooking something else?

Rachel: What?

Janet: Something little. (Rachel stares at her blank but anxious for clues) Something you maybe haven't seen for three nights? (Rachel stares) Something that calls you Mummy, perhaps?

Rachel: (sighs and pushes her fingers through her hair, throwing herself back in her chair.) I have, I rang her, video chat. I don't need a lecture off you. So if that's what you came in here for, you can walk right out.

Janet: Rachel, she's your daughter.

Rachel: (annoyed) I know that.

Janet: She needs more from you than a quick video chat goodnight. She needs you to be there for her. She needs you to tuck her in and snuggle her. Don't you miss her?

Rachel: Of course I do! For fuck-sake Janet, I really don't need this guilt trip right now. I get it, alright, you think I'm a shit Mum.

Janet: No, I don't think your a shit Mum.

Rachel: That's what you're saying.

Janet: No, I'm saying you need to get some work-life balance, Rachel. You need to know when to go home.

Rachel: I've been caught up with all of this.

Janet: I know, but that's another thing I don't get. Working on a case like this, when my ones were little, always made me want to rush home to them. Cuddle them until they were sick of me. But you, seem to be just the opposite.

Rachel: It. (Rachel squints her eyes frustrated that she's being forced to explain herself. She swivels in her chair before sitting forward and looking down at her hands, folded on her desk.) It upsets me more, having her 'round. Because I look at pictures like this, (She holds up a crime scene image of a murdered child.) And when she lifts her little arms up at me, all I can see are these little arms covered in blood and muck. And then, I just start thinking awful things.

Janet: Worse than imagining your toddler's arms covered in blood?

Rachel: Yeah, like...like, maybe I should've never had her.

Janet: Well, it's way too late now.

Rachel: No, I love her to bits. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me outside of this job.

Janet: Good, alright.

Rachel: But, seeing this, you can't, we. (She struggles with the words, chewing them before spitting them out.) I can't always keep her safe…can I?

Janet: (softens) I see.

Rachel: No matter how careful I am. No matter how hard I try to be a good Mum. And like you said, I'm shit at it.

Janet: I never said that.

Rachel: And then, I just get angry because it wouldn't be so impossible if the world wasn't full of sick dickheads like this. (She holds up another picture.) And then, I get so angry that I don't know what to do with meself. I want to cuddle her and I want to kick the bullocks out of somebody all at the same time.

Janet: I understand. Motherhood is scary. You do all you can to steer them right and keep them safe and...I mean, look at my Taise. But you can't avoid her Rachel. Little girls need their Mums.

Rachel: (feeling battered) I know.

Janet: Being a Mum is hard, it's really hard. But you don't want to runaway like your Mum, do ya? (Rachel rubs her forehead with both hands physically admitting her moral defeat here.) You didn't exactly have a great example to fashion yourself after. Being a single mother on top of all that, I can't even imagine. I don't know what I would've done, what with this job and not having Ade when I did, and me Mum. Honestly, I don't know how you do it.

Rachel: I'd ring our Allison but she thinks I'm shit as well and I'd really rather not hear it.

Janet: Rachel, I do not think your shit.

Rachel: No?

Janet: No. (Janet smiles sympathetically and Rachel nods accepting this.) You do have to get home though. You've got to go get her. She needs ya.

Rachel: Yeah. (She stands.) Thanks Janet. (Janet nods and opens the door, waiting for Rachel and they walk out together.)

( The lights in the office are mostly off except for a desk in Rachel's old spot. DC Anna Ram sits at the desk staring at photos.)

Rachel: (To Anna) Haven't you got a wife to get home to? You better get out of here, otherwise you're going to turn into me.

Anna: (cheerily) That's the idea.

Rachel: No one likes a kiss arse. Go home. (Rachel begins walking away.)

Janet: (leans toward Anna and whispers) She loves it actually. Goes right to her head. (Anna smiles and Rachel returns.)

Rachel: Actually, walk out with us.

Anna: Really?

Rachel: Yes. (Anna quickly gathers her things.) I want to hear why you think I should pay you overtime when you haven't found me anything yet. (Rachel looks at her watch) Tick tock. (Anna fumbles with her things. Rachel starts walking away and Janet flashes a sympathetic smile at Anna. Rachel opens the office door.) I'm waiting.

Anna: Right. (She hurriedly tries to catch step with Rachel. Janet follows slowly.) Right so I haven't found anything new exactly.

Rachel: So what have you been doing for the past two hours?

Anna: Same as you? (Rachel stops on the stair causing Anna to freeze in her spot. Rachel steps up a stair and towers over her.) What I meant was-

Rachel: D'you reckon you could do my job, do ya?

Anna: No, no ma'am. Th, th, that's not what I meant. Sorry Boss.

Janet: Rach? (Rachel looks out the corner of her eye at Janet and then proceeds down the stairs again. Both follow.)

Anna: I'm sorry. I meant that I… I've been looking over the case files trying to see what we're missing. Trying to see if anything jumps out. And I know you've got someone looking into the microchips that were retrieved from the children's arms. You've got them looking into who they were registered through and what site they were tracked on. But, I'm thinking, if we work backwards, try to find out who purchased them and from where. After looking at the photos and comparing them to the images of other microchips, I think they look more like the sort that are injected into dogs. I was thinking we could follow a line of inquiry into the local animal hospitals and shelters in the surrounding area. They might know by sight alone who the distributor is.

Rachel: Right. You'll be on that first thing in the morning.

Anna: Yes ma'am.

Rachel: Good night. (Now outside Rachel walks towards her car.)

Anna: (calls after them as they make their distance from her.) Goodnight Boss. Good night Sargent.

Janet: Goodnight. (Janet hurries to catch up to Rachel who is standing by her car looking for her keys.) Go easy on her Rach.

Rachel: Why?

Janet: She looks up to you.

Rachel: So? When was Godzilla ever easy on me?

Janet: Literally ALL the time.

Rachel: (laughs) Shut up.

Janet: I can't count how many times she was this close to sacking you and I had to beg her to take it easy on you.

Rachel: (laughs and shakes her head) Yeah well, I can't count how many times she gave me a right bloody bollocking in front of everyone either.

Janet: Yeah, but most times you deserved it. You were a stroppy little madam know it all. Anna can barely say boo to a mouse.

Rachel: (smiling) Sure, but that's why we've gotta toughen her up. Three years on MIT and she still gets sick in the loos after seeing a corpse. Your skin gets thicker the more it's hided. (Rachel opens her car door.)

Janet: Just try to be a little nicer to her.

Rachel: I'll see what I can do. Goodnight Janet.

Janet: When you get there, kiss my baby for me too, will ya?

Rachel: Uh, no I won't. But I'll do my best to translate the sentiment.

Janet: Goodnight.

Rachel: Bye.