The Power of Nightmares Doctors

SHE BREATHES HARD

Harrison?

What are you doing here?

You can't be here.

You have feelings for me. I know you do.

SHE GASPS

SHE BREATHES HARD

SHE SIGHS

# Stop making the eyes at me I'll stop making the eyes at you

# And what it is that surprises me Is that I don't really want you to

# And your shoulders are frozen

# Oh, but you're an explosion

# Your name isn't Rio but I don't care for sand... #

DOORBELL RINGS

-Julia.

-Hello, love.

I'm sorry, I know it's early, but I'm just on my way to work

and thought I'd pop by, see how you're doing.

I'm fine. Much better now.

-Would you like a tea or coffee?

-Ooh. No, not for me thanks.

I had a cup of tea before I left home.

Sorry. Did you say tea or coffee?

I'm not with it.

I've poured you a second cup of tea.

-I'm going out. I won't be long.

-Where?

-The doctor's.

-I'll give you a lift.

-No, love.

You're not even dressed. I'll be fine.

What are your plans? Where do you feel you are now?

I'm not sure I've got any plans.

I always know how everyone else should sort out their lives, can't sort out my own.

Everything I swear by, exercise, meditation, failed.

Or made things worse.

Maybe I should cut my losses and leave.

Leave Letherbridge?

-But then I came here to escape my last disaster, so...

-Elaine?

This isn't your fault...

I just didn't realise Harrison was a murderer.

-Nobody did. He had us all fooled.

-But I got it so wrong.

I don't think I should go on being a doctor.

As for setting myself up as a family therapist, that's a joke!

OK. Stop.

You have helped people, you know that.

It's an awful, awful situation, I know,

but... you have got to try and put it behind you.

-We live and learn.

-Lauren didn't.

I'd like to get one of the doctors to come round, take a look at you. Are you in today?

Yes. But there's no need.

Well, I think there is.

We didn't give you enough support. I won't make that mistake again. OK?

Zara? How are you feeling?

Fat, bloated, exhausted.

And my ankles ache like fury. But at least I'm still pregnant.

Look, if you want me to thank you for taking me to the hospital,

looking after me when I was panicking, being a hero...

Thanks.

No, I just meant, are you taking care of yourself?

Eating well, getting plenty of rest?

Yes, of course.

This doesn't change anything. I don't want anyone to know.

We haven't even told our families. We haven't told anyone. Have you?

No, of course not. I wouldn't.

Good. If you fuss over me like this, people are going to guess.

You can't blame me for giving you special treatment. You're about the only patient I've got.

-Hello.

-Good morning.

I'm Sheila Bartlett, I am registered here.

I wonder, would it be possible to have an appointment this morning?

-I don't mind which doctor I see.

-Well, Dr Tyler can see you in about ten minutes?

Thank you.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Mrs Bartlett. What can I do for you?

I'd like some sleeping pills.

I'm having problems. Sign of age, I suppose.

What kind of problems? Can you describe them?

I get to sleep all right, then I wake up and...

-Have you taken sleeping pills before?

-No. I've never needed to.

How long would you say you've been having these problems?

Six weeks. Not long.

Can you think of any reason that might be causing it?

Stress?

OK. I'm just going to check your blood pressure. If you wouldn't mind rolling up your sleeve for me?

Phew! How did you get that bruise?

Can I take a look?

Has someone hit you?

I know it can be very hard to talk about this kind of thing.

It's nothing. I shouldn't take up your time.

Mrs Bartlett, please.

You came here to get help.

I want to help you.

So, are you eating all right?

Yes.

How are you spending your time?

Oh, just pottering around, reading books.

-SHE YAWNS

-Excuse me.

How are you sleeping?

Pretty well most nights.

I do have some problems.

I wake up at 4:30 most mornings.

It started when, er, Lauren died

and Harrison was arrested.

Then it's got worse.

-OK.

-When I do sleep, I just have nightmares.

What are they about?

I don't need some Jungian analysis.

If you describe a bad dream to someone,

often you realise how ridiculous it sounds

and it loses its power over you.

I don't remember.

It looks like someone's tried to strangle you.

Mrs Bartlett, who did this?

Your husband?

Harry's never laid a finger on me before.

It's just been these last few weeks.

There's things you should do. First, go to the police.

They've got a specialist unit.

Take an injunction out against your husband.

If he comes close to you, he'll be arrested. And leave him.

-I don't want to leave him.

-For your own safety, pack a bag and go.

-You don't understand.

-Or chuck him out. He's in the wrong.

I don't want him to leave. I just want him to stop...

Mrs Bartlett, please, trust me, I know about this.

-I've dealt with victims of domestic violence before.

-I'm not a battered wife.

-Look what your husband's done to you.

-It's not his fault. He doesn't mean to.

The reason people like him get away with it is because others make excuses for them.

He can't help it. He just lashes out, and...

If he's being violent, it'll always escalate.

Are you really going to go home and let him do this again?

Maybe kill you next time?

That's why you want the sleeping pills. They're for him, not you.

They might calm him down, get things under control.

I can't prescribe sleeping pills for your husband unless he asks me to.

Besides, you might be asking for sleeping pills so you can kill him.

What an exciting world you live in.

Everyone's trying to murder everyone. That's not why I asked!

OK, OK, but I've only got your word for that.

Besides, drugging him isn't going to solve the problem.

It isn't going to stop him doing this.

It's not going to make you safe.

Well, it sounds as though the sleep problems are chronic.

So we're going to have to tackle those

if you're going to make a full recovery.

I'm sure it'll go away on its own.

But there are all sorts of things that you can do.

I know.

I know. I recommend them to my patients.

Don't eat a big meal late at night,

don't drink tea, coffee or alcohol before going to bed,

try a hot bath, milky drink,

soft lighting in the bedroom.

So, are you doing those things?

Of course.

And are they helping?

Yes.

I'm sure they will in the long term.

I feel really bad about taking up your time. I know how short-staffed you are.

No. It's OK. That's what I'm here for. That's why Julia sent me.

Can I help you?

I think my wife's here. Sheila Bartlett.

Oh. I cannot tell you.

You mean you don't know?

No. I cannot tell you. It is confidential.

Oh, come on. She told me she was going to the doctor's. She must be here.

I'll take that as a yes, shall I?

You cannot go through.

Please, take a seat and wait.

This is ridiculous.

PHONE RINGS

-"Sheila?"

-Harry. Where are you?

I'm sitting in reception.

Which doctor are you seeing?

It's Harry. He's in reception.

Mrs Bartlett, you don't have to see or talk to him if you don't want to.

-Don't go home with him. It's not safe.

-It's my home.

-Where else can I go?

-To a women's refuge.

Or are there friends you can stay with? Family?

-I'd have to tell them.

-It's a huge step talking to someone,

admitting this has happened. But you've talked to me.

Please, let me try and help you.

If I go home with Harry and talk to him, I'm sure we can sort this out.

Really? How sure are you?

No. I'm not running away from him. And I can't hide in here forever.

OK. Our practice nurse, Cherry Malone, she's very good.

Let her check out your injuries while you're here.

I'm sorry, I cannot hear you.

Mm-hm.

Oh! Excuse me. You cannot go through there!

Mr Bartlett!

-Are you Harry Bartlett?

-Yes, he is.

I asked him to wait, but he would not listen.

I need to see my wife.

-She isn't here.

-I know she is.

I've just spoken to her on the phone. I'm very worried about her.

-Yeah, I bet you are.

-Is she all right?

-You tell me.

-Get out of my way!

You'd better go before I call the police.

Sheila! Sheila?

All right, all right. What's the problem? Harry?

Yes, Julia.

This man won't let me see my wife.

No. Because he's beating her up!

Harry, um, why don't you take a seat again for a minute?

-I'll be right back.

-Yeah.

My office. Now.

What the hell were you thinking?

He deserves it, after what he's done to his wife!

Even if that was true, the way to solve it is not to pick a fight with him in public!

What do you mean - if that was true? She's covered in bruises.

She said he did it. Why would she lie?

I know them! I've known them for years. They're nice people.

He does voluntary work for many charities.

If he sells raffle tickets, he can't be a wife beater(!)

I've known violent men, and Harry does not strike me as one of them.

Blokes like him and Harrison, if they wear a good suit,

talk posh and pretend to be nice, they can get away with murder!

You haven't left Sheila in your office, have you?

No. She's with Cherry, checking her bruises.

She's terrified of him, but she won't leave.

She won't go to the police.

She's going to go back home with him,

and sooner or later, he's going to kill her!

Well, I'm not going to bandage them or anything.

They'll come out in all sorts of colours over the next few days, but that's normal.

I know.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Hello, Sheila.

I know, I look awful.

Is it true? Did Harry do this?

I'm not a victim. I don't want people feeling sorry for me.

I was going to make a cup of tea. Do you want anything? Tea, coffee?

-No, thanks. You've been very kind.

-Thanks a lot, Cherry.

You don't normally offer your patients tea.

-In the circumstances...

-And now I'll get a lecture on what I should do for my own good.

Sheila, you really should go to the police.

Or let us call them for you. Please.

-We're trying to help you.

-I know he means well,

but he's very young and he doesn't listen.

-I was listening! Your husband beats you up.

-He can't help it.

He does it in his sleep!

Why do you think I wanted sleeping pills for him?

I'm sorry, Sheila.

If he was beating me up awake, knowing what he was doing,

of course I'd leave, go to the police.

But he doesn't even know!

Have you talked to him about it, asked him why?

I'm afraid to ask him. Afraid what he'll say.

What if that's how he really feels about me?

-Come on, come on.

-You said you wanted to talk to him, sort it out.

Well, you're both here, so why not do it now?

I'll be there with you.

You're offering to be my knight in shining armour?

Let's get on with it, then.

You must feel angry. I'd be angry in your position. I'd feel betrayed.

-I don't feel angry, I just feel guilty.

-Why?

Maybe it should've been me he killed, not Lauren.

I know. It's irrational.

None of this was your fault.

What if it was?

What if I made him do it somehow?

You didn't make him do it, OK?

Nobody made him do anything.

Every time men do something bad to women,

someone will always find a way of blaming that woman.

Whether they say Lauren was asking for it,

or it was Harrison's mum or his wife or you,

they always blame the woman.

-Please, don't make excuses for him.

-I know.

Elaine, it's not your fault that Harrison is some violent creep, a murderer.

OK? It's no-one's fault. It's his.

So don't go blaming yourself. OK?

Anyway...

um... shall we get back to talking about how you're feeling?

KNOCK AT DOOR

I'm sorry about earlier.

-Are you all right?

-I'll live.

I need... to show you something.

I'm so sorry!

Oh, darling!

All of this has been traumatic, obviously.

How do you feel it's affected you?

I'm coping. How about you?

What got me was Kevin being accused.

I mean, I was sure he was innocent, but everyone else, the police,

everyone thought he was guilty.

-How did that make you feel?

-Like I was going mad.

I kept thinking, what if I'm wrong?

You stop believing in yourself, trusting your own judgements.

And it was far too close to home.

How do you mean?

It's something you read about in the newspaper, or you see on the TV.

It's not something that actually happens to people you know.

It sounds like this has affected you quite deeply.

Yeah. But this isn't meant to be about me.

But if I can help you, Freya...

I don't think that's appropriate.

You're not in any fit state.

Let's leave it there for today.

Um, what are you going to do?

I've got a therapist.

-And are you seeing him or her?

-Yeah.

I'll make an appointment.

Good.

Well, I've got to go. Um, thank you for the tea.

What can you remember about last night?

This... awful dream.

When I woke up, I thought I'd killed you.

Then I heard you moving about in the bathroom.

By the time I got up, you were dressed.

You had your warpaint on. I couldn't see any marks.

You looked so afraid of me.

You didn't ask her what you'd done?

I couldn't.

And you didn't say anything.

I want to know what's wrong with me.

Well, if they're this vivid and this frequent,

then it's often triggered by some traumatic incident.

Not necessarily recent. It could have been from years ago.

I can't think of anything.

This is ridiculous. Something happened.

About six weeks ago, when we got back from Cornwall.

You went to the off-licence to buy wine.

When you got back, you were as white as a sheet, said you'd lost your wallet.

The nightmares started after that. I've been driving myself mad wondering what happened.

And you know, Harry. Tell him. Please, love.

We can't go on like this.

I was mugged.

Why didn't you say?

They were children.

14, 15 years old.

A couple of them were girls.

Only took a moment.

One of them, a big lad, he had a knife.

One of the others was filming it on their phone.

They enjoyed it.

I was scared, and they liked that.

They laughed at me.

You must think it's pathetic, being scared by a bunch of kids.

No, I don't.

-You didn't go to the police?

-I just couldn't face it.

I thought the best thing was to cancel my cards

and forget it ever happened.

But you couldn't.

I see their faces.

In the dreams.

I think, this time it'll be different.

I'll do something.

I'll fight back.

Then, last night,

I thought I'd got him.

The one with the knife.

I put my hands around his neck

and I...

I hate the way they make me feel.

If you try and suppress these feelings, they go elsewhere.

You block them out consciously, they invade your sleep.

The dreams are getting worse.

Because you're more stressed out about it.

How much worse would they have got?

I could've killed you.

(Hush!)

Herbal tea?

I'm just trying something new. It's quite nice, actually.

Is this part of this detox thing you're doing? Not drinking, as well?

So, um, how's your house hunting going?

Oh! It is a nightmare.

We keep almost finding the perfect place, then there's always something.

-SHE YAWNS

-Like what?

There was this one place we saw that had this basement games room.

Jimmi loved it. He loved the idea

of sitting in front of this big plasma screen, watching sport.

But I don't want to spend time down there. I want windows.

Then we found this place with a lovely garden, but he doesn't like gardening and...

-Zara?

-What?

Oh! Sorry, I... must have got bored and just drifted off.

Maybe you should start drinking coffee again.

Back to it.

-How do you feel, now you've talked about it?

-Better.

-Relieved.

-What should we do, then?

Go to the police.

You say you remember the muggers' faces.

-Might stop it happening to someone else.

-I don't want that, no.

There's nothing as such I can prescribe,

but I could refer you to a sleep disorders clinic.

OK. Well, you may find now you've talked about it, the dreams will go.

But until they do, I would recommend you sleep in separate beds.

We've hardly ever slept apart.

Except when the kids were born and they kept you in hospital.

Still, maybe we should.

Are you really all right?

Looks worse than it is.

It's just bruising. It will clear up.

We should go. You must have lots of other patients.

Not too many.

Or maybe not. People are prejudiced.

How do you mean?

I've seen you somewhere before.

Of course you have, love. He was that doctor in the papers.

Arrested for murder, and then it was someone else all along.

That local rag. Always getting the wrong end of the stick.

Tomorrow's fish and chips wrappings.

You knew and it didn't bother you?

Why should it? You were innocent.

And you're a good doctor. We know that.

Don't worry about the papers.

Come on, love. Let's go home.

CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYS

N-o-o-o-o!

I know, I know, I was out of line,

I was unprofessional

and I handled it all wrong.

-That's what you're going to say, isn't it?

-Yeah.

And all of that is true.

But you did help them. Because Sheila told me before they left.

I'm glad I had one satisfied customer.

Well, it's a start. A small one, but a start.

So, maybe you're growing.

You've certainly never apologised to me before.

Yeah, well...

You know you've been on at me to take some leave?

-Yeah.

-A mate of mine's organised a lads' trip to Las Vegas

and, er, someone's dropped out and I can take the place if I want it.

-And do you?

-Sun, R&R, the lads.

It's just what I need.

Then do it. Don't gamble away all your wages, though.

No chance. I'm feeling lucky.

Yes, Daniel, everything's fine.

Except I'm getting fatter by the minute.

I am.

How's Marion?

Good.

Look, if you want to cheer her up,

perhaps you should tell her.

"Yes!"

SHE LAUGHS

All right, calm down!

Maybe when you get back, we can start spreading the word.

Kevin knows already.

I know. I had to tell him.

It was a moment of weakness.

Mrs Tembe's told me I'm looking terrible.

Even Princess Bubblegum's starting to suspect.

I know.

I wish you were here, too.

I love you, too.

It's going to be so great, having you all living here.

What about Patrick's job?

Oh, he'll find something, don't worry.

They're crying out for good teachers.

-"Mrs Smith, are you sitting comfortably?"

-Go away.

"There are far too many people on the planet. You have delighted us long enough."

-"You are the weakest link."

-I won't do it!

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