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This programme contains some strong language.
Why are you doing it?
Oh, get in.
Why are you doing it? Who are you doing it for?
Just leave it, Mum.
Cos you're not doing it for us.
You're doing it cos you're too proud not to do it.
-You're doing it cos you're too stubborn not to do it.
You're doing it for all the wrong bloody reasons, you stupid cow!
-Why are you bringing my mum into this?
-It's got nothing to do with her.
-Get in the house.
-She's doing this because you're her mate. That's what she said.
-She's had a drink. She's been bricking it.
-Take no notice.
You've made her have a drink. Boozing all night.
If you want to cause trouble, go ahead,
but don't bring my mum into it.
It's off the shoulder
and it comes right down and shows off all my decolletage.
Boobs. Don't you watch Gok?
-Anyway, I've got this matching handbag and...
You don't think it's too much, do you?
It might be, it is a funeral.
They said not to wear black, with him being young.
The older ones can. Boys'll wear their hoodies,
girls are going to do their own thing.
Well, that's what his mother said. Nothing too depressing.
You have sorted it with them, haven't you?
I don't need their permission to open me own shop.
You should have told me.
You let me sit there! Oh, God.
I'm sorry. Don't have a go at me, all right? It wasn't my fault.
How many customers did you get?
-How many's a few?
-I don't know. Five.
-Did the lads come round?
You put yourself in all sorts of danger just to do five customers?
No. That's not why we did it. We did it cos it was right.
Did they come round?
Yes, they came round.
-I don't know who. They had hoods up.
-The right thing to do?
-Yeah. What example is it to him?
-What did they say?
..out of cowardice? What sort of example is that?
You're not Gary Cooper, you're a hairdresser. You know why you only did a few?
-Shall I tell you why?
-Did they say anything?
Cos all your bloody customers had too much sense, that's why.
-There was never any reason to open.
-We proved a point.
-They didn't say anything?
-No, they didn't, and I'm getting sick of this inquisition.
-Did they DO anything?
-I've cooked, as well as going to work all day.
-What did they DO?
I've cooked a meal and I'd like us to eat it!
-Where are you going?
POLICE SIREN WAILS
Half of lager and a G and T, yeah?
Oh, right. She said G and T.
I drink G and T, but I want nothing off of you.
You didn't shut your shop.
We were hoping everyone would. As a mark of respect.
I was going to.
Not out of respect for the thug who got knocked off his bike
but out of respect for his mother.
When two snotty-nosed kids walk in my shop
and demand that I shut it - not ask me, demand - that is not on.
Will you shut it tomorrow?
I'm facing a bit of a dilemma here then, sweetheart.
Maureen. The lads know that I'm talking to you.
I need to go back to them,
tell them that you're sorry and that you're going to make up for it.
-Two left. Do you want them?
-Well, actually I was asking...
-No, it's fine, it's fine, love.
So, can I tell them that?
Well, that puts me in an even bigger dilemma.
Do you want to open it?
I've no room for manoeuvre, you see.
Twenty two. Parky again.
I'm not going to be bossed around by snotty-nosed little kids.
What's the worst they can do? Shoot us?
Better that than kowtow to 'em.
I'd love botox.
-You don't need it.
-I've got lines.
They're laughter lines.
Nothing's that funny.
I wanted these done next.
But he said no. He said, "Just get tissue paper, right,
"and rub it between them once or twice a day."
I said, "How's that going to make me boobs bigger?"
He said, "Well, it works on your arse."
That sounded like a gun.
It was a gun.
-It could have been a car backfire.
-Trust me, that was a gun.
Sounded like it was that way.
Where are you!
Speak to me. Answer me, Sean!
Answer me, Sean!
Oh, Sean! Oh, no, no.
Oh, Sean! Oh, Sean!
Help! Help me! Oh, my baby.
Whoa, whoa, hang on a minute, me coat's in there.
-She's locking up.
-I've only got one eyebrow.
I can't walk round like this!
Is he home? Good, keep him in.
I'm going to the hospital now. I'll call you when I know something.
I've got a blind date tonight.
If he can't see, he won't notice, will he?
Who told you?
He died in the ambulance.
They tried everything, but it was no good.
I've got to call John now. Thanks.
Have you got any coins? I put all I had in.
I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry.
-Hey, John. It's Sue.
'You all right, love?'
I've got some bad news.
Is it your brother John?
Hiya, John, love. It's Mo.
'Mo? What's going on?'
It's about Sean.
John, can I call you back later, love?
"I told you so"?
What do we do about our Jake?
He could be next.
If they can kill Sean, they can kill him.
We'll keep him in.
We can't keep him in for ever.
Doesn't have to be for ever.
We can't stay round here.
Poor, poor Sean.
What sort of idiots would do this?
Soldier? He was a 15-year-old boy!
He was in a gang?
How could he be in a gang and me not know?
When can I bury him?
It might take a while, I'm afraid.
Whoever we charge might want another post mortem, you see.
So in order to bury him, she needs permission from whoever's killed him?
If it goes on too long,
we'll get another pathologist to do a post mortem
and the defence'll have to accept that.
So not months, no.
Can our liaison team do anything for you?
Not unless you've got two bottles of vodka.
Join the queue.
We'll be in touch with any further developments, all right?
Er, what's SOS, by the way?
You've marked his file SOS.
I've no idea.
-I mean, I can't afford that.
-I can't, either, do you know what I mean?
I'm really sorry, Sue.
I'm so, so sorry, love.
I really am. He was, he was a lovely lad, a lovely, lovely boy.
Oh, I don't know what to say to her.
I'm sorry about this, Sue.
-You call yourselves "Women Against Guns", yeah?
-And you're the chair?
Why'd you close your shop on Monday?
They told me to.
So you're saying Sean was killed cos we opened our shop.
That dirty look of yours, that's what it's saying.
No. Sean was killed cos you closed yours,
and loads of others closed theirs.
If we'd all opened up, what would they have done? Shot us all?
Women Against Guns? You're a bloody joke.
You go home to your mothers!
(BOY) Fuck off! You're fucking dead!
I want his death to make a difference.
I'm going to join Women Against Guns.
I've just called them a bloody joke.
People get told they've got cancer and they start doing all sorts,
Parachute jumps and marathons, sponsored this and sponsored that.
It's ten times that if it's not you.
If it's your son, it's ten times that.
"All right, my son never achieved anything in his life,
"but he more than made up for it in his death."
"He died and we made sure it never happened again."
"He died and others lived."
How many of us with teenage kids can say,
"We know where they are right now"?
How many of us can say, "My lad's definitely not in a gang?"
Not many, if any.
If we're honest with ourselves, we have to face the fact that
the temptation to join a gang must be overwhelming,
because if you don't belong in a gang, where do you belong?
You don't belong in work, cos there is no work.
You don't belong in training, cos there's no training.
You don't belong in a youth club, cos they closed down years ago.
Now there's not much we can do about that.
We're not politicians.
We can't give our kids jobs.
We can't reopen the youth clubs.
We can't stop them joining gangs.
But we can stop people exploiting that fact.
We can stop dealers giving them bikes and arming them with guns
so they can go around delivering their filthy drugs.
How do we do that? Simple.
We grass them up.
We tell the police everything about them.
And if there's anyone here thinks grassing is wrong,
I'd remind you Sue's son was murdered just around the corner from here
and when that happened, everything changed.
Everything changed because a young life was destroyed.
All that matters now is that it never happens again.
I want you to pack it in.
I'm scared you might get hurt.
-Has someone said something?
Then why should I get hurt?
I don't mind worrying myself sick over a grandson, a teenager.
But to worry myself sick over a forty-year-old daughter,
that's not fair!
Y'all right, Mrs M.
Look, she's got to knock it on the head.
You've got to make her.
She's stubborn, you see. She never backs down.
We got a bullet in the post.
I didn't show it to her.
Yeah, well maybe you should've done.
Two women open their shop, their two sons need punishing.
Trouble is, your Jake's one of my little team, in't he?
Can't be shooting a member of my own little team.
So, answer? I get Jake to shoot Sean.
Your mother was a dirty cow, you know.
She'd shag anyone. Do it for a ciggie.
When people round here are calling you names behind your back -
pusher, pimp, ponce, perv - I say, "He didn't turn out that bad, you know,
"considering what a slag his mother was."
It's a gun.
Where'd you get it?
I found it.
In the park. Some bushes in the park.
Why didn't you take it to the police?
-Yeah, I'm going to, aren't I?
-Well, let's do it now. Phone them now.
-No, no, I can't.
Will you just leave me alone, Mum!
Why are you hiding a gun in my house?
-I'm minding it for someone.
-I can't tell you who.
Because I'm not a grass, am I, Mum?
Well I am, Son. So if I find a gun in my house, I tell the police.
-No, you can't do that, Mum!
-I'm going to.
-Look, they'll shoot me.
-They'll shoot me and then they'll shoot you.
The gang whose gun it is.
Why have you agreed to hide a gun?
Because I just have, all right. You don't want to know.
Is it drugs?
Just keep your nose out of it. You don't want to know, honest.
-Is it drugs!?
-No, it's not fucking drugs.
Don't you swear at me!
They'll tell me when they want it back. Till then I need to keep it.
-It's no one.
Say I found it so they've got to take it back.
You can't tell them what to do, THEY tell YOU what to do.
-I'll do it. Give me the phone.
-Give me that phone.
-Give me that phone.
-Give me the phone, Jake!
Open the door! Open it! Open this door, Jake!
Open this door. Open it now!
Look in his room.
It's true, then?
What's true? Mum, what's true?!
Cormack's told me everything. So open the bloody thing.
'What are you talking about? Cormack?'
Did you kill Sean Brown?
Did you kill Sean Brown?
He saw the gun.
He turned and ran.
I wanted to miss...
..but it was impossible to miss and not lose face
so I just aimed it at his back.
I told myself it was a wind-up,
that if I pulled the trigger it'd be empty...
..and I pulled it...
..and it weren't.
I'll ask for a transfer in work.
-I said I'll ask for a transfer in work.
Another planet. Listen, if we stay here, two things can happen.
One, he gets shot in retaliation. Two, he goes down for life.
Which would you prefer?
Right. We've got to get rid of the gun.
No, I can't. They want it back after it's all died down.
Well, they can't have it back. Sit down.
Sit down. Right? Sit down.
They want it back cos they paid a lot of money for it
and if they tell you to do something, Nan, then you do it.
OK. We'll hide it, then.
Look at your son.
Look at him!
What were you wearing?
What were you wearing?
Mum washed it.
That's no good. You've got to get rid of it.
Everything you were wearing. Right?
Where do we hide a gun?
Where do we hide a gun?
Come on, come on.
What's going on?
-I've forgotten the code.
-You've forgotten it?
-For God's sake, It'll go off!
-I know that!
We need something sharp and pointy.
What's going on?
All right, Tony.
All right, Mo.
It's, er, It's my Mum.
Brought the wrong screwdriver. Need something sharp and pointy.
Sharp and pointy?
In a hairdresser's?
All right. See you.
-See you, Tony, love.
Where did you put it?
In one of the vents.
There's nothing that's going to damage it?
Don't think so.
-No electrics, or anything like that?
I can't go through with this.
You were brave enough to kill him.
You should come in and see him.
You'd swear he was asleep.
You attended the victim's funeral?
Walked immediately behind the coffin?
Linked arms with the victim's mother?
Even though you knew your son was the killer?
She was my friend.
Are you OK?
That lot's pissing me off. Do you know what SOS means?
Scum on Scum.
Sean was scum.
The killer was scum.
Yeah, the killer, obviously scum, but Sean?
You all right, Jake?
I'm really grateful to you for coming. I know it took guts, son.
I know you might think you'd be next.
I'm sorry, we've got to go.
Oh, I've got a blinding headache. I'm sorry, we've got to go.
-Thanks for coming.
Fancy a takeaway?
'Hello, we're not available now.'
'Please leave your name and phone number after the beep
'and we'll return your call.'
'It must be some headache, that.'
'To leave your mate on the day of her son's funeral,
'it must be some bloody headache.'
Especially when you consider the facts.
The fact that I was supporting you when you opened your shop.
'Me supporting you got my son killed...
'..so I think I've got a right to expect some support in return.
'Can't believe you left me to it.'
Can't believe you'd do that to me.
I don't remember what I said,
but I know I said some horrible things and I'm really, really sorry.
Whenever you're ready, Sue. Thank you.
People must know who did it,
and it is to these people I'm appealing right now.
The killer's friends, the killer's family...
..but overwhelmingly, since I'm a mother...
..WAS a mother, the killer's mum.
You are the only person who can...
Would you like to try again?
If we go from "The killer's friends".
Only when you're ready.
The killer's friends...
..the killer's family...
We'll be on Sue for nearly all of this.
But we just need to hear the words.
Can we go from "It is to these people".
It is to these people I am appealing right now.
The killer's friends, the killer's family...
..but overwhelmingly, since I am a mother, WAS a mother...
..the killer's mum.
You are the only person who can ease my pain right now.
You can't take the pain away,
because you can't give me my son back.
But you can ease it.
Only a tiny, tiny fraction, but, still, you can ease the pain.
And you can do it by taking your son...
You can do it by taking your son to the police.
You can do it by giving me justice.
You made a televised appeal. Is that right?
In which you asked the killer's mother to hand her son in?
Even though you knew your son was the killer?
I had to.
To help your son get away with murder?
To help my friend.
Hit him, lad.
For God's sake.
-There was three in here.
Will you please stop playing that bloody game right now!
-Yeah, in a minute.
There was three in here.
I ate them.
You ate three eclairs?
I didn't know you wanted one.
There's three people living here and three in the packet.
Don't you think it's one each, you greedy, selfish, little pig?
-What's wrong with you?
-Have you ever thought of someone else?
Have you ever done anything for anyone in your life?
I'll tell you what's wrong with me.
My son shot someone and I come home to find him playing games.
I wanted to take his mind off it. Right?
I was taking his mind off it!
How is that taking his mind off it?
Him playing games where you shoot people? You stupid old f...
Is it that easy? I wish I could find it that easy.
I wish I could take my mind off it like that, but I can't, can I?
Cos I've got to look Sue in the eye, haven't I?
I've got to put my arm around the mother of the boy YOU shot.
And all the while knowing that this little shit...
Shall I tell you something? Do you want to know something?
I wish I was Sue. I wish I was the grieving mother.
That would be a lot easier than this.
'No, it isn't. I shouldn't have said that.'
'Honest, it's OK.'
'I didn't mean it. I don't wish you dead.'
Just cos you don't see me crying, doesn't mean I'm not gutted.
I love waking up in the mornings...
..cos I get these two, three seconds when my mind's just blank.
Sean's still alive and I haven't killed anyone.
Then it all comes back.
I always reckon that it can't get any worse,
but then there's a knock at the door or a car pulls up outside
and I think, "Have they come for me?"
But then I think, well, if they have come for me then...
Just got to get it over with.
I wish I'd shot myself instead of Sean.
I don't think I can take much more of this.
I've been thinking about going to the bizzies myself.
We won't let you do that, Son.
Nan, it's like being in a prison in here anyway.
We're clearing off. I've got a transfer to Portsmouth.
You can't put it all down to being skint.
You've got people like David Cameron and all his mates.
They wrecked restaurants, didn't they? They're not skint.
They're not short of a few bob, so how come they act like thugs?
I'm not saying it's down to money. It's a factor.
If it's only being skint that makes people wreck things, then how do you explain Cameron...
We're going to Portsmouth.
We're moving to Portsmouth. Me, Mum and Jake.
What's in Portsmouth?
Mum's got a job there.
You've got house there?
A flat. We've rented a flat.
What about the shop?
Sod the shop. What about our fight?
What about sticking together and all that? What was all that about?
-When are you going?
Your job's safe. The girl who's taking over...
Who's keeping us safe?
I've put myself at risk, my family at risk,
cos I believed every word you said.
"Empowering people, we can make this estate a safer place to live",
-but it was all just shite, wasn't it?
It was. Because if you believed it, you wouldn't be moving.
I'm getting out because I can get out.
If you could get out, you'd get out too. So less of the looks, please.
End of meeting, I think.
The stick you gave me.
You bloody hypocrite!
Why didn't you mention this to me before now?
We've only just decided.
That's not true, Mo, cos you've sold the lease. You've found a flat.
Your job's safe.
It's not about my job!
This is my best friend who's moving away
without even mentioning it to me,
and when you do tell me it's in a room full of people.
-It all happened so quick.
-I'm just doing what's best for my family.
-Well, lucky you, you've still got one!
That was unfair. I'm sorry, Mo. I'm sorry.
Right, well, we'll still stay in touch, yeah?
It's not the end of the earth. I'll still see you, yeah?
What's the address?
-I don't know.
We haven't found anywhere yet.
Oh, I thought you said you'd found a flat.
-Found one we like. We haven't done anything about it yet.
-You're moving in on Friday?
You're lying to me, Mo, aren't you?
Yeah. We're making a clean break. Leaving everything behind.
Right. Well, I've got some bits and pieces in the shop.
I'll pick them up tomorrow.
Hiya, Sue, love.
Armed police! Get on the floor now!
Get down on the ground now! On the floor. On the floor!
You! Get down on the floor!
Now! Get down on the floor. Get down!
Get down on the floor! Get down!
Get down, you cocky little git!
It's a bit much, this, just for getting my roots done.
Will someone tell me what's going on?
Did you know this was here?
Did you KNOW this was here?
Maureen Ann Murray, I am arresting you on suspicion of perverting
the course of justice with regards to the murder of Sean Brown.
You don't have to say anything, but if you don't mention something
that you later rely on in court, it could seriously harm your defence.
Anything you do say will be taken down
and may be used in evidence against you.
Do you understand?
Do you understand?!
What he did was terrible, yes. And he's got to be punished, yes.
But he was only 17...
..and he was used by men much older than he is.
They should be in the dock today.
Older men who manipulate the young.
He spoke constantly of turning himself in.
The only reason he didn't was the effect it would have on me.
So what to you might seem cowardly or selfish...
He was told to kill...or be killed.
You might not believe that.
Or you might think, "That's what you get for being in a gang" but...
It's something I hang onto. As his mother, I hang onto that.
He was told to kill...or be killed.
If the boot was on the other foot, if Sean had been told to kill Jake,
then Sue would be standing here today..
..and I'd be where she is, watching.
We both lost our sons that day.
Maureen Murray, senior, and Maureen Murray, junior,
you've been found guilty of conspiracy
to pervert the course of justice.
What you did, you did for the person you most love in this world.
That makes your crime understandable, but sadly, not excusable.
And society rightly demands a custodial sentence
for anyone involved in gun crime.
Nevertheless, I suspect the sentence I impose on you will mean little
compared with the one I impose on your grandson and son.
That will be your real punishment.
So I sentence you to twelve months in prison
but I'm going to suspend it for one year.
You are free to go.
Jake Daniel Murray, you pleaded guilty, you saved the court time
and money and the victim's family the ordeal of a murder trial.
That is to your credit.
Also, you are a juvenile, so my hands are tied as to sentencing.
Jake Daniel Murray, you will be detained at Her Majesty's pleasure
for a minimum of 12 years.
Take him down.
If they'd told my son to kill yours, he'd have done it,
that's what you said.
I was just doing what I could...
That's what you had the cheek to say to me, you dirty, lying bitch.
Your son kills mine and then you go and spit on his grave,
you dirty, filthy, lying bitch.
If they'd told my son to kill yours,
he'd have gone straight to the police, but not your fucking son.
Better to kill than be a grass, that's what your Jake thought.
Better to kill Sean than be thrown out the gang! Dirty little scumbag.
And banging on about him being 17, this business about him being 17.
I know too bloody well he's 17!
If he's 18, he's looking at 30 years and I'm looking at
something like justice,
but because he's 17, he gets 12 years.
12 fucking years for murdering my son!
And that other shite you came out with,
you lost your son too that day. You did not!
I lost my son, full fucking stop.
Give me what you've got now, a son locked away for twelve years,
for life even, a son I could only see once a month,
a son I could only hug once a month,
and I would snatch your fucking hand off, you bitch!
Rather than what I've got now. A son I will never see again,
a son I will never hug again, a son rotting in his grave.
Stay away from me, you bitch!
There is no comparison between the pain you're going through
and the pain I'm going through.
No comparison at all. Right?
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd
Mo Murray has taken a stand against drugs, gangs and gun crime in her community, but now she stands alongside her mother Maureen and her 17-year-old son Jake in the dock. Why?
Hairdressing salon owner Mo refuses to be intimidated by the gangs in her neighbourhood. She and her best friend Sue take a defiant stand and open up for business ignoring the dire warnings of their teenage sons Jake and Sean, and Mo's mother.
Today is not a day like any other. It is the funeral of a local gang member, and his gangster leader Cormack has sent a message to all the local shops - stay closed and show respect, or there will be consequences.
The next day, everything appears back to normal at Mo's salon - until a single gunshot is heard. In a state of rising panic and foreboding, the friends rush out to the street to find one of their sons is dying on the pavement.
Will the enormity of this brutal and senseless murder lead to the mothers standing shoulder to shoulder against the gangs, or will this tragedy rip them apart?
Difficult and fraught time passes until arrests are made. And now, the Murray family are in the dock and the painful truth is coming out. What will the jury's verdict be?