"Since the beginning of time...
.."man has needed a retreat, a refuge, a cave,
"somewhere he can take stock, reflect on things...
".. or even just, let's be honest here,
"escape everyday life."
Come on, Georgie! You can do it!
Not yet, he can't.
OK, maybe not yet.
Arlo? You said you'd help!
- Arlo? - Arlo?
- Occupied, Dad. - You're hiding from your sister.
No, I'm not. I swear.
Finish up and go and help your sister.
- Hey, how was your surf? - Don't change the subject.
- Not any better, eh? - Just get out of there, now.
- Arlo was meant to help. - Arlo is indisposed.
Arlo is hiding.
- You OK for school? - Oh, yeah.
Unbelievably thrilled.
What the hell is that?
- Oh! - This is not happening.
- Arlo, what'd you do? - Nothing unusual. I swear!
We're living in the Third World!
"The day our septic tank exploded was an ominous one.
"A metaphor, if you like, for what was to come...
.."on the day when there was no refuge."
Pongs a bit.
Yes, Woody, it does.
- Not ideal. - No.
If I knew about plumbing, I'd get stuck right in.
Yeah, I'm sure, but this plumber you called me...
- He knows about plumbing, right? - Bill McNamara?
- Best plumber in Weld. - Out of how many?
- You'd be surprised. - Dad!
Look, you take the young ones to school.
I'll hang here. I'll explain the problem.
Well, I think the problem's self-evident.
Yeah.
It stinks through the whole house.
- Yeah, so I noticed. - That's all the dead bacteria.
It's producing organic compounds like hydrogen sulfide.
Whatever. It still stinks.
Seriously, we can't live with this.
- One tick. - Dad!
- How late do you want us to be? - Thanks for coming.
Only takes a phone call, mate.
Even in this dead-end town.
Yeah, good.
Woody's round the back. He'll explain everything.
I gotta rush, sorry. I'll be back as soon as I can.
I'll come in and explain what happened.
You're not gonna explain exactly what happened, are you?
I can live without the shame of being known as the new kid,
let alone the one with the exploding dunny.
Yeah, you're right. Fair call. I'll phrase it better.
Dad. What do you notice about this school?
- Sorry? - Look carefully, Dad.
Oh, shit. Uniforms.
Why didn't you mention we had to wear uniforms?
- I didn't know. - You researched the school.
- Like you researched the house. - I did. Online.
- No photos of kids in uniforms? - It didn't really twig.
- House -- the sequel. - I will get you uniforms.
- It will be fine. - No, it won't be fine.
As if being the new kids wasn't bad enough, we're the new kids
who couldn't get their shit together to get uniforms.
Plus we're the Australian new kids, and Kiwis are
notoriously racist when it comes to Australians.
- Three strikes already. - Four.
If you mention the toilet thing.
We are not mentioning the toilet thing.
No-one is mentioning the toilet thing.
Now, now... Now, it'll be fine. Come on.
This way, guys.
Excuse me.
Um... I'm looking for someone to help me.
- Aren't we all, Mr Turner? - You know who I am?
Yes. Which must make you Shay and you Arlo.
Welcome to Weld District High School.
I'm Ms Dennis -- Tracey -- your form teacher and fellow exile.
No, no, no, we're not in the same year.
Oh, it's OK, Shay, relax.
Our form classes are mixed across all years.
I'm also Arlo's history teacher and your house dean.
We multi-task around here, in our little dead-end town.
Come with me -- I'll get you settled in
with timetables and all that.
You'll need to speak to Penny in the office about paperwork.
- Come on. - They haven't got uniforms.
We can let that slide for a couple of days.
Penny will point you in the right direction.
Alright, you lot, settle down.
I want you to welcome Shay and Arlo.
They'll be starting here today.
As is our way, I need someone to buddy up with them,
make sure they know where they're going.
I'll be Arlo's buddy! We're buddies already.
Thank you, Billy.
- And I'll look after Shay. - And thank you, Lindsay.
Isn't this awesome?
I was so excited when I heard we're in
just about every class together.
You know the first thing you need to know?
No...
We don't like smart-arses round here.
If you say so.
Your dad's a smart-arse.
Hope you're not the same.
Good morning -- uh, Penny from the school
said this is where I come to get uniforms.
- For the school? - Yeah.
- No. - Penny said this was the shop...
Normally, yes, but no. We don't have any at the moment.
- None at all? - It's the middle of the term.
- Everyone's got their uniforms. - I need uniforms for my kids.
- They've just started at school. - Try in Stafford.
It's not the dead-end Weld is.
You're brave. Showing your face in public today.
I called Weld a 'dead-end' in the column I write.
Yeah. You did.
All day, people have thrown that phrase in my face.
- Well, I'm not surprised. - But I write for a Sydney paper.
There's a thing. I don't know if you've heard of it.
It's called the internet.
- Everyone's read my column? - Well, no, but...
They've certainly read all about it.
This was a total misrepresentation
of everything I wrote.
You didn't call Weld a 'dead-end town'?
Well, well, yes, but those were only 3 words out of 800 --
two, actually, because I hyphenated them.
Yeah, but hyphen or no hyphen, as far as words go...
But I meant them in an affectionate way.
That sense doesn't really leap off the page.
Because the only words they used from my column
were 'dead', 'end' and 'town', and I meant them in the sense
that Weld is somewhere where I feel relaxed, at home.
I think when people read the word 'dead',
they stop thinking warm, fuzzy thoughts.
Yeah, well, I originally wrote 'kinda dead-end town',
but I... I had to cut the 'kinda' 'cause it was 801 words.
- And your column's '800 Words'. - So it has to be 800 words.
Does anyone actually count how many words it is?
I do.
It's a thing I have.
A rule.
It's not weird.
I don't think the 'kinda' would have made any difference.
I need to speak to whoever wrote this.
- Good luck there. - Why?
You'll see. But first, you should read the other article.
Hello?
- Mr Turner. - Hey, Constable.
Tom. Call me Tom. Everyone does.
Constable Tom, to give me my full title.
- Do you work here? - Oh, I do the photos.
The law is my job, but photojournalism is my passion.
The latest defacement of the billboard.
I know who's doing it. Just a question of catching him.
Idiot can't even spell 'dead' properly.
- Is the editor here? - No, no. He's never here.
No-one's ever here.
Well, how does it get published?
Just does. Bit of a mystery, really.
Go away. I don't want to talk to anyone right now.
Have you seen this?
- Some kid... - Jared McNamara.
Your buddy Lindsay's little brother.
.. shoved it in my face and told me to go back to Australia-land.
- No! This cannot get any worse. - Two pages over.
It's a nice photo of you, though.
How'd you go?
Great, thanks.
Hey, boss. Things got a bit out of hand, eh?
So Bill basically took one look at it,
said he wouldn't touch it, then he phoned the council,
and the council guys came,
and then the guys with the freaky suits came,
and then they just stood around for ages
talking about your column and that bloody Aussie.
Alright, I said, every man is entitled to their own opinion,
and just because everyone hates that opinion
doesn't make the man less of a man.
Yeah, thanks, Woody.
Then they gave me this to give to you.
Like a notification for biohazard stuff.
There's a thingy in there letting you know
you can't use the toilet inside.
- What? - Till everything's sorted out.
Some crap about penalties for having an illegal septic tank.
I didn't even know I had a septic tank till this morning.
Yeah, I know. Think it just magically disappears, don't ya?
But there is a silver lining. Yeah. Come with me.
Behold!
Behold what?
Well, the site for your new thinking place.
I cleared it this morning.
What, are you proposing we put a toilet here?
Yeah. Just gotta dig a hole and...
I'll fashion a seat out of something and you're laughing.
- Well, thanks, Woody. - No worries.
But I just don't think the kids are gonna go for this idea.
Yeah, but once they check out that view...
Yeah. Still not entirely sure.
If you hate it so much, why are you living here?
Not my choice.
Why don't you go back to Seed-ney?
What part of "Not my choice" didn't you get?
Ooh!
I bet you think you're better than us.
And you're meant to be my buddy.
Yeah, well, buddy this, buddy.
Nice.
Real nice. Thanks, guys.
The history of Weld is about a few families who came here
and defeated the vicious natives who thought they owned the land,
even though my family had the papers to prove they did.
These families, which included my family...
.. made the land into farms, which were rich farms,
that made Weld able to have shops,
which is why the town of Weld exists.
Thank you for listening.
Thank you, Jared. That was...
Yes. Which means we have one more speech to go. Billy.
Uh, miss, why does the new kid not have to give a speech?
Because he just got here, Jared.
Oh, but his dad knows all about Weld.
Why doesn't he tell us why his dad thinks we're all losers?
Which is not actually true, is it, and also has
absolutely nothing to do with what we're doing here.
And that, thankfully, is that.
Billy, we'll pick up your speech tomorrow.
Man, I hate it when that happens.
I was psyched, ready to roll.
- So now you know. - What?
Whose town you're in.
- And don't you forget it. - Forget what?
Yeah.
You gathering some more ammunition
to launch at the next family to settle here?
Yeah. Nah.
Every now and then when I'm out, I see a rock that speaks to me.
Literally or in an artistic sense?
You want a hand with that?
- No, no. I'm good. - Come on.
Let me prove I'm not a complete monster.
Why are you a monster?
Didn't you know? I'm now the most hated man in Weld.
- Why? What'd you do? - Front page of the local paper?
Ugh. I never read that propaganda sheet.
Right. Yeah, well, I wrote something about the town.
In my column. You know, about how Weld was a dead-end town.
- Well, that's harsh. - Yeah. I meant it in a good way.
Oh -- for a writer,
you might want to choose your words a bit better.
So I'm learning.
But respect to you for managing to piss off Big Mac.
- Big who? - Old man McNamara.
He owns the paper. Thinks he owns the town.
- Monty McNamara? - His dad.
His brood and their demon spawn are everywhere,
and if you're in their bad books, you're deep in the kaka.
Hi. I'm here about my, um...
I can guess why you're here, Mr Turner.
- Your non-compliant septic tank. - Yes.
The thing is, I'm more than happy to do what I need
to get everything to comply -- replace the tank if necessary...
The consent process is explained
in the paperwork we left with you.
Yeah, well, I'm sure it is, but...
I'm just wondering if you could help us out.
We don't even have a working toilet.
Shame you didn't think of that beforehand.
- Of my septic tank? - Hm.
Or before I wrote the column?
Before you bought the house. But what would I know?
I'm just a man in a dead-end job in a dead-end town.
Hello?
You have to come home now.
- Woody? - Come home now.
- G'day, George. - Monty.
Mr Turner.
Bill McNamara.
Everyone calls me Big Mac.
George Turner.
George.
You've got a bit of a mess on your hands, haven't you?
"I guess the point I'm trying to make
"is there are times when there is no refuge.
"There are times when the battle
"doesn't so much come to your door...
.."as sit on your couch drinking your tea."
Don't get me wrong.
I think it's great that an esteemed writer
has moved to town.
I write a small column,
which is an anachronism in these blogging times,
for a newspaper -- another anachronism, I guess --
so I would hardly call myself 'esteemed'.
There you go, using your writerly words.
- Putting me at a disadvantage. - Not really.
And I'm beginning to understand that in terms
of advantage around Weld, you and your family have it.
George, I'm just a simple farmer.
I just dabble in this and that as opportunity allows.
I'm just a guy looking to make a home for me and my family.
And I love that. So how's it working out for you?
What can I do for you, Big Mac?
Something stinks, George.
Well, that would be my backyard.
Among other things.
One of the things you dabble in, would that be the local paper?
I see that more as a community service than a dabble.
Do you want a job?
At your newspaper?
It could use a man of your talents.
Weld isn't exactly thick on the ground
with people who can put pen to paper.
After what your paper wrote about me?
I only wrote about what you wrote about us.
You wrote the article?
Well, strictly speaking, I edited it, as my job as editor.
There was fairness in the editing? I must've missed that.
Yeah, never mind about Monty, George, because the thing is
that this is a crucial time for Weld.
It's important this region is seen
in the most positive possible light.
For the greater good.
And if we all work together, for this greater good,
then that goes both ways.
You see what I'm saying, George?
It's hard not to, Bill.
Weld is a generous place
that lends a helping hand to those that are generous to it.
I got you the first time.
Just giving you some ideas for your next column.
Well... Good to finally meet you, George.
Monty here speaks highly of you.
It's a shame Monty didn't speak to me of the septic tank.
I was as surprised as you were, George,
when my brother told me about the whole...
I'm sure we'll talk again, George.
Yeah, I'm sure we will.
Intense.
I don't think I've ever seen Big Mac that angry.
Hey! You know what you should do?
What?
Write a nice column about Weld to make up for it.
- Thanks, Woody. - Yeah, no worries.
Hey, Aussie!
- We'll see you tomorrow. - Yeah.
It being a school day.
You know what I mean.
Yeah, 'cause you're so subtle.
Do you want to come round to my place?
- I'm all good, thank you. - It's OK if you want.
- Nah, nah. I'm good, thanks. - Are you sure? 'Cause it's OK.
Yeah, I'm pretty good, thanks, Billy.
- Billy! - Hey, Dad.
Your mum wants you at home.
Something about a rock that needs cleaning.
OK. We'll buddy up again tomorrow.
I'm pretty alright, thanks.
- Where's Dad? - How would I know?
- So your day sucked too, huh? - What's wrong with these people?
So what Dad wrote their town sucks? They're teenagers.
They're meant to think where they live sucks.
- It's where we live. - Don't remind me.
Hey, Aaaaarlo!
What kind of a gay name is Arlo anyway?
I see you've made a special friend too.
Aaaaarlo.
What kind of a halfwit still uses 'gay' like it's an insult?
- Hey. - Hey.
- You guys need a lift? - Oh, nah.
Dad's picking us up. Thanks, though.
He hasn't been run out of town yet?
We should be so lucky.
- See ya. - 'Bye.
Your new boyfriend doesn't say much, does he?
Don't be an idiot, Arlo.
- Took your time. - Sorry. Been a hell of a day.
Just please say it's been a day that involves a new toilet.
No.
And yes.
I was gonna build walls, and I thought,
"No. Why block that view?"
Because views go both ways?
Nah. No-one's gonna see you out here.
Not unless you're a perv with a telescope.
Nope. No way. Not ever. I'm not doing it.
What if I need to go in the middle of the night?
- Well, we could grab a torch. - Yeah. But...
If you do, don't drop it in.
And if you do drop it in, don't bother retrieving it.
Can we eat at The Boat Club tonight? It has actual toilets.
Yes, we can.
Uh, but...
Sorry about that, Woody.
Nah, it's OK.
Some people are more at one with nature than others.
Yeah.
You mind if I'm the one to christen it?
- Go for your life. - Cheers.
What's everyone's problem anyway?
They need to get over themselves and wake up
to the fact that this IS a dead-end town.
- No, it's not. - Google "dead-end town".
- Picture of Weld. - No, it's not. No, no.
Weld has a lot of things going for it.
You're only saying that
because you dragged us here against our will.
No. No, I'm not.
Then why did you write it's a dead-end town
and start this nightmare, on top of all other nightmares?
- They were poorly chosen words. - Oh, you think?
- Everything alright here? - Oh, we have no toilet.
- And everyone hates us. - I meant with the food.
- Depends. Did you spit in it? - Ew.
- Shay! - What? It's a fair question.
- Given the circumstances. - No, I didn't spit in it.
Though I can't vouch for the chef. Need anything else?
No, we just... we just need the bill, thanks, Hannah.
Sweet as.
- Right. I'm going before we go. - Again? That's the third time.
We don't know when we're gonna see modern plumbing again.
Me too.
I have an idea how you can make everyone love you.
Is it the same idea as Big Mac's?
Oh, ignore Bill. I've got a better idea.
Come and talk at my book club.
I haven't actually written a book.
Well, you've written something, which is way ahead
of anyone else we've had at book club.
Everybody hates what I wrote.
You can start winning the crowd over one person at a time.
Or four, if everyone there likes you.
Thank you, Fiona. Maybe some other time.
But I think I might keep a low profile for a bit.
- Sure? - Yes. It's an interesting idea.
But I... I think I still might pass.
OK. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.
You're not ready yet.
Hate you to put the 'dead' into 'dead-end'.
I know what you're thinking.
What am I thinking, Woody?
Ah, you're wondering if she's right, that you're past it,
you're washed-up, you're ratshit, you're dreaming, mate.
- It's like you're in my head. - But she did say 'yet'.
Which means that one day, you will be ready.
"This place -- this place I've displaced my family to --
"was meant to be our refuge.
But what do you do, where do you go,
"when you need refuge from your refuge?"
I'll try to get to Stafford and sort out the uniform thing.
- Alright? - Yeah, and the chemical toilet.
- Don't forget that. - Yep.
My life has come to the point where a chemical toilet
is a step in the right direction.
It'll be like having a science experiment in our own bathroom.
Oh, joy.
Today's the day, my ugly blister.
- What? - It's decision day. D-day.
Making sense would be kinda good about now.
Time to get primal on it. Do we fight or do we flee?
You hear me?
I hear you.
But first, actual plumbing.
- Yes and no. - Sorry?
Yes and no.
No, the question was "Do you sell chemical toilets?"
Surely that's either a yes or no.
Yes, we sell the chemicals.
No, we're out of the actual toilets.
- You could try over in... - In Stafford. Yeah, I get it.
Oh, you're kidding me.
- How often does this come out? - Varies. Sometimes weeks go by.
- Two issues in two days? - Yep.
Nothing like a scandal to get the people going, eh?
Well, I'm thrilled you find it amusing.
Oh, go you and your scathing words.
Man, people are sensitive here.
Hey, you chose to move to the Land of the Thin White Skin.
That is undeniably true.
Well, if it helps, everyone here loves the fact
you're back writing again, even the ones who think you're insane
for moving to New Zealand.
Have you read the comments?
Uh, I'm living my own set of comments here.
Well, over here, they're generally favourable.
- Well, that really cheers me up. - So...
Have you formulated a plan
to get the populace back onside?
According to the local bigwig, all I have to do is
write something nice, everything will magically get better.
So write something nice.
I don't like getting told what to write, Jan.
Oh, and this is that point in the conversation
where I remind you that you have a deadline tomorrow.
I'm sorry. I didn't... didn't hear that.
Yeah, the reception's not very good here. No-one knows why.
Can I help?
Yeah, I'm just wondering how my application
for retroactive certification of an illegal septic tank is going.
It's being processed.
Isn't that it right there?
- That's part of the process. - Right.
What is it with you people?
'Dead-end' is not the end of the world.
'Dead-end' is charming, out-of-the-way, peaceful.
It's not the most heinous insult ever. Not even close.
And... and what about all the other words,
which I spent being nice about Weld?
Do they not matter a damn compared to the two words
which, when taken out of context,
make it sound like I'm not happy here?
I love Weld! I want to live here for the rest of my life!
But I cannot do that without a toilet!
It's in the pile, being processed.
I can see that.
And so you can see, from our unusual rock formations,
our weird phone coverage and the humming sound the ground makes,
that the history of Weld is as much shaped
by the giant alien spaceship buried under the site
of the proposed old folks village
as it was by colonialism.
Thank you for listening to my speech.
Thank you, Billy, for that very... thought-provoking speech.
Quite an interesting one to end on, I think.
- Yes, Arlo? - What about my speech?
You don't have to do a speech. You've only been in Weld a week.
Yeah, but you can learn a lot about a place in a week.
That is true. And you've written one?
- Yep. - Bring it on.
- Your dad write it for you? - Jared!
Sometimes it takes an outsider
to see things the way they really are,
to be the fresh eyes that can tell the truth.
And I know I haven't been here long,
but what I have seen in this short time
has confirmed everything I learned through my research
into the history of Weld -- namely, that it's a story
of religious extremism, uh, cannibalism and racism,
bestiality and why inbreeding is a really bad idea.
Hey, Aussie! There's something we don't understand.
Really? That's surprising.
What gives your dad the right to slag off our town?
- Have you read the column? - No. Why would I?
Because then you might have some idea
what you're actually talking about.
I read the newspaper headline.
Yeah, I'm sure that was more than enough for you to process.
Are you saying I'm dumb or something?
No. Not dumb.
Not even something.
Because you and I, buddy, we're the same.
- Uh, no, we're not. - Uh, yeah, we are.
Because we both know that outside this hole
exists a real world.
The difference between us is that I have been there
and you are a tragic, attention-seeking slut-bag
that will never go anywhere in your entire existence.
So either step away from me and never speak to me again
or bring it, you bitch.
Oh. Um... We're not actually open yet, George.
Yeah, I was nearby, and you said I knew where to find you, and...
- I'm in. If that's still OK. - In?
- To speak at your book club. - Great!
What changed your mind?
Oh, just the realisation that I do need to start
changing people's minds, four minds at a time, if necessary.
Well, you picked a good place to start. My place, at 8:00.
Um, it's traditional to bring a bottle.
Sure I can manage that.
Excuse me. I'll see you there.
- Hello? - Mr Turner, hi.
It's Tracey Dennis here, from the school.
Hi. What can I do for you?
Are you able to come to the school now?
- Now? - Yes.
I'm afraid we have something of a situation.
George! Thank you for coming in.
- Where are they? - This way.
OK, starting alphabetically. Arlo. We were doing speeches.
And in his, he chose to take a...
.. well, a rather revisionist approach to the history of Weld.
And so, eventually, the small group of religious nut cases
were forced to leave Nova Scotia
after one of their number were accused of foul play
involving some of the local livestock.
After many months at sea, the surviving members of the party,
now only consisting of one family, the McNamaras,
made landfall, by being shipwrecked,
on the coastline of what we now know as Weld.
And how did the new arrivals repay the local Maoris
who pulled them from the waters of Parata Bay?
By bringing them disease, which wiped out
much of their population, making it easier
for the McNamaras to steal all of their land...
That's my family he's talking about!
But it's not like the McNamaras actually cared.
They were far too busy keeping to themselves.
- If you know what I mean. - Go, Arlo! Tell it like it was!
Which is the only possible explanation
as to why Jared McNamara here is the way he is today.
- Thank you for listening. - Jared, sit down!
I'm sorry. This... this has never happened before.
Meanwhile, in the art room...
What did you just say?
Let me put it in a way you might understand.
Get out of my face and stop talking shit about my family.
- Go, Lindsay. - Go, Lindsay!
Um, I'm sorry again,
and, again, this has never happened before.
Obviously, it happening again is what we're worried about.
So all parties involved will be stood down for today
until we decide what further actions need to be taken.
Of course.
What the hell were you two thinking?
I don't know about her.
I was sick of people picking on you for no reason.
Mainly, I just wanted her to stop being a cow.
- We will talk about this again. - Oh, you bet we will.
-And, again, I, uh...
- I apologise. - That's OK.
- Thank you. - It's OK.
I'll see you tonight.
Sorry?
- Book club. - Oh, right. Yeah.
Yeah, I'll, uh, see you there.
No, Jared, that's enough. You're a bloody idiot!
Get in the van. No, you're going to boarding school.
That's enough. Don't you roll your eyes at me.
Get in there as well. You know what? You're not far behind him.
Get in there.
Looks like we're gonna need a new plumber.
You would do very well not to say anything right now.
I sincerely hope this wasn't part of a plan.
That get kicked out of school
equals we somehow end up back in Sydney.
Because that's not gonna happen.
No. But good idea, though.
Don't even joke about it.
Seriously, Dad, it was fight or flee.
And we fought, and I'm not sorry we did.
We told you. We did it for you.
Even though you saying it's a dead-end was the first time
you've actually got something right about this place.
No, I was wrong, but not as wrong as you.
I just want these people to accept us.
- Why? - Because we have to live here.
No, I mean, why do you want them to accept us?
If they can't accept us for who we are, then screw them.
That was magnificent.
The sunset over Parata Bay. Not just that.
See the mood hasn't improved in here while I was out.
You know what might help that? An actual functioning kitchen.
Yeah, top of my priority list.
What about an actual functioning toilet?
- Yeah, I built you a perfect... - Indoors.
That's more your dad's priority list.
- And I'm getting onto that. - How?
- Fiona. - George.
I was just on my way to your house.
Oh, no need. Woody! Why aren't you answering your phone?
What? No-one's rung. Oh, no.
- What, you're in the book club? - Why does that surprise you?
Your guest appearance has made my little book club
the hottest ticket in town.
No way am I having all that mob at my house.
- Mob? - Everyone that wants to come.
That's why we've changed the venue.
- To where? - Town hall.
See, that's the one there, but if you just chuck it down there.
Great. Nice work there, Liz. Looking good.
Last book club, there were four of us.
- And then word spread. - See?
You're getting the hang of this place.
- I can't do this. - Well, I know what you mean.
I hate crowds too. But I find wine helps.
No, it's what you said about them being a mob.
- They want to lynch me. - They don't. Not all of them.
Some of them actually want to hear your side of the story.
- And then lynch me. - That will depend on the story.
- I have no story. - Course you do.
- No, I don't. - Everyone's got a story, George.
The key is all in the telling. Drink up.
- Why are my kids here? - I asked Woody to bring them.
So that they could witness their father's triumphant moment.
Oh.
That's the spirit.
I'll give you a bit of an intro.
Um... Thank you, Hannah. Let's just...
Good evening, everyone.
What a great turnout for tonight's meeting
of the Weld Book Club.
We'll just get straight to tonight's star attraction.
The fact that we have an actual living author with us.
Please welcome Mr George Turner.
- You're the dead-end, Turner! - Bill McNamara!
There is no heckling at book club!
Sorry, Fiona.
George. Firstly, welcome to book club.
And welcome to Weld.
Thank you.
Do you want to tell us a bit about what brought you here?
Don't people want to have a go at me for what I wrote?
Well, I'm sure we'll get to that, but...
First, why don't you tell everyone
the story of... of why you're here?
OK. Well, uh... It all started a few months ago.
Almost seven months ago. When, um...
Uh, no, no, it, uh, started when I was a kid,
and we used to have our summer holidays here, in Weld, and, uh,
I guess this place has always lived in my mind
since those days, and so recently,
when I was trying to figure out how I was gonna...
.. bring up a couple of teenage kids on my own,
I... I thought of Weld, and Parata Bay, and...
.. and thought if there was anywhere in the world
where I could do that, it would be here.
Why?
- Sorry? - Why did you think of Weld?
Because we used to holiday here when I was a kid.
I mean, why, recently, did you think of Weld?
What drew you here?
It was... It was when my...
It was when my wife died.
That's when you thought about coming here?
Yep.
So death looms large in your life, then?
Recently?
Yeah, it does.
Yeah.
Yeah, it does.
So I suppose when I... when I wrote
that Weld was a 'dead-end', what I was actually trying to say
was that...
.. Weld...
.. was a new beginning after death.
- Does that sound right? - Sounds perfect.
You just didn't word the column very well, did you?
No, I did not. No, and I'm... I'm very sorry about that.
Well, good to finally sort that out.
And I presume that... that it is sorted out.
Unless someone else has something that they want to say?
No? Good.
Now, this is the part of the evening where we usually
stop talking about books and start drinking, so...
Who has brought their bottle of wine, per book club etiquette?
Course you did.
- Thank you for that. - For what?
For healing things so adroitly.
Oh, you... you think you're off the hook, do ya?
"Sometimes refuge isn't actually a place.
"Instead, it can be a state of mind,
"where the world suddenly seems much kinder,
"a lot more welcoming."
I'm sorry to hear about your wife.
Well, thank you.
And if you ever need ideas for your columns, just come to me.
- I've always got ideas. - OK.
Have you ever thought about writing about
why there are so many ads on TV?
Or dogs. People love stories about dogs.
No, no-one wants to hear about your dog, Sean.
Just 'cause you're a cat person.
There's a reason cat videos outweigh dog videos
on the internet 8-to-1, Sean.
- Now you're just making that up. - Even so.
By the way, your consent will be granted within 10 working days.
George!
Corker.
I'm really sorry about my boy clocking your boy.
- He's off to boarding school. - Oh, you don't have to do that.
No, I do. He's an annoying little shit.
I'll come round tomorrow and I'll clean up your tank as well.
Oh, Sean said the paperwork wouldn't be ready for 10 days.
Forget about the paperwork, mate.
Nobody worries about paperwork here.
George. One more.
You moved me, George,
sitting up there.
Reminded me of when Norma passed away.
We share a bond, you and me.
Yeah, I guess.
Upbeat stories, that's what we need.
- Shine a good light on us all. - Couldn't agree more.
You and me, we could be real good mates.
Or great enemies, George.
Hey?
Only time will tell...
.. Big Mac.
Me again.
I heard you dealt to Lindsay McNamara.
We, uh, had artistic differences.
Oh.
Choice.
You should be very proud of your dad.
- I am, most of the time. - What he's done is very brave.
Yeah. Good on him, eh, you know, trying something new.
I suppose...
I'm sure you'll settle in fine if you just give it time.
Seriously, there's no-one at the paper who can actually write,
and I know this because I'm the one who does all the writing.
- Well, I'll think about it. - OK. Can't pay ya, but still.
- Well, I will think about it. - So how did your wife die?
Siouxsie! You don't ask questions like that.
Why not? It's what everyone else is thinking, isn't it?
So how did she die?
How my wife died is no-one's business except ours.
Excuse me.
"At the end of the day, while no refuge is perfect...
.."there are still worse places to take in the view."