Ladhood

Hey, baby.

Baby? Bit off‐brand for you.

I'm just feeling cheerful.

Come on in, how you doing? Let me take this for you.

- How was work? - Fine. Why is it so tidy in here?

Because I spent two hours doing it.

- New bin. - Oh, nice.

- £100 on a bin? - Yeah.

I guess I just thought, the more expensive it is,

the less likely I'll be to kick it again.

And I am making the alcohol‐free beer‐can chicken

- from your mate Finn's cookery club. - Oh, wow!

No, I think Finn said you need to actually open the can, otherwise...

I did open the can, don't you worry, come on.

Just relax, come on. Sit down.

Let's get this lit.

What's all this in aid of?

I just wanted us to have a nice evening together.

And, to be honest, um, I want to apologise for last night.

Falling asleep at 9:00, missing all your calls...

No need to apologise, I got your voicemail.

Anyway, how did it go?

How did what go?

Your mental health assessment.

It was this morning, right?

- Could you make my line a bit bigger, please? - Sure.

What is it?

Um... I, um...

It's okay, you can tell me.

I've messed up.

So, what's going on after this?

I got the dates wrong.

- What? - Yeah.

I think, because I recently tried to sync the calendar from my laptop to my phone,

and I think there must have been, like, a lag in the sync.

- A lag in the sync. - In the synchronisation of the calendar, yeah. Shit.

Damn it.

I will get it rearranged.

Now, let's have some beer‐can chicken, alcohol‐free...

I don't want any beer‐can chicken, alcohol‐free.

- But it's going to be so moist. - Liam, what I wanted

was for you to go to your mental health assessment.

Or for you to just show that you care that you're going to have to wait

- another... - Six weeks.

Six weeks? Six weeks.

Well, it'll actually be another three months

before the therapy starts, because...

But I'm sure they'll understand about the lag in the sync.

Oh, will you give up on the lag in the sync bullshit!

- It's not bullshit. - Liam...

I know what happened.

Have you guys seen Penelope?

Oh.

You didn't go because you were scared,

and I'm really sorry if I'm running out of sympathy with that.

What do you mean?

You say you're going to do things,

and I believe you because I'm an idiot,

and then you don't do things...

No, it was just the lag in the sync.

What are you doing?

Leaving.

Give you some space to think.

- I don't need space to think. - I think you do.

- Well, how long you going for? - I don't know.

Well, like, ten minutes, ten years?

- Well, obviously not ten years. - Ten years, no, but I...

When am I going to see you again?

Why don't you let me know when you're ready to be honest with me?

Okay?

Well, that's Jess for you, always overreacting.

Why are relationships so difficult?

Why did I kick the Brabantia bin?

Adulthood is a nightmare.

Everything used to be so much easier.

First love was so much easier.

At age 15, I couldn't wait to join the ranks of the deflowered.

I'm so bored, man.

But Addy, Craggy and I were still having to make do with less‐thrilling pursuits.

I've heard there's a dead dog down at t'canal path,

if you want to have a look at that?

- Yeah, all right. - Hang on, is that Ralph?

They're definitely going out, then.

Are they holding hands now?

He's pathetic.

There was genuinely nothing more I wanted at this age

than to have someone to hold hands with.

- What a sell‐out. - Is he wearing jeans?

Since Ralph had recently found himself exchanging

family heirlooms for cocaine, he decided to make some changes,

staying away from drugs, even wearing denim.

We didn't like it one bit, but Rachel did.

Now then. - Hiya.

Not saying hello, Ralph?

Hello.

We're going to go look at a dead dog down at t'canal path,

if you want to come?

Sick! Where is it?

I mean, um...

No, me and Rachel are actually on our way to take in a picture.

A picture?

Sorry, guys.

"Guys"?

"Guys"?

Why wouldn't he want to go look at a dead dog?

Because he's a fucking girl, hanging out with his girlfriend, that's why.

Probably quite telling that my superficial reaction

to Ralph's basic personal growth

was an accusation of emasculation.

And deep down, that feeling that we were just immature,

sexless losers was becoming more and more acute.

Fuck's sake.

I don't know why you're so bothered.

I'm embarrassed to be a fucking virgin, to be honest, Craggy.

We all should be.

I'm not actually a virgin.

I've got a girlfriend, to be honest.

What? No, you don't.

- Yeah, I do. - Who is she?

Her name is Melanie.

And I met her in a casino.

Yeah. She asked me if I could lend her a chip for the poker table,

and let's just say, I made it all the way to the river.

Addy, you're not old enough to get into a casino.

No more questions.

Just when I'd resigned myself and my loser mates

to a lifetime of deriving entertainment from animal corpses...

life offered a reprieve in the form of an interschool trip

for high‐achieving English students.

It's called Young, Gifted and Talented.

It doesn't mean those of you who aren't picked are any worse,

it just means you're going to do worse in your education,

and probably your life as a whole.

So now, apparently, my ability to identify personification

was worthy of institutional reward.

Going from this class will be...

Liam...

and that's it.

- (MUSIC PLAYING ON EARPHONES) - Absolute banger, this.

- I like it. - It's giving me a headache, that.

Aw, has gifted and talented boy

- got an 'eadache? - Not clever enough for you, is it?

Look, I didn't put myself forward to go.

I'm only off 'cause parents are making me. Get off!

And also 'cause, secretly, I was very excited by the prospect

of spending a week writing about the landscape

in a youth hostel in the North Yorkshire Moors.

James, Chrissie, you go together.

And the final pair will be Liam and Katie.

You will all have an hour to write one side of A4,

describing the North Yorkshire Moors in a positive light.

In your pairs.

Katie McAleer.

She came into focus like a JPEG loading by 56k dial‐up,

making spikes of desire surge through the membrane of my innocence

like a first wisdom tooth breaking a gum.

She was utterly my type,

which is to say she was more attractive than me.

Hi, I, uh... I think we're working together.

Oh, right.

So, what school do you go to?

Garforth. You?

- Rothwell. - Never met anyone from Rothwell before.

Why would I have done? It was three miles away.

So, what is it we've got to do again?

Write one side of A4,

describing the Yorkshire Moors in a positive light.

Positive light.

How sad is that?

This is the setting of Wuthering Heights.

Savage nature, Gothic romance.

Yeah.

- Have you actually read Wuthering Heights? - 'Course. Haven't you?

Yeah, 'course I have.

What's your favourite part?

Of the book?

Um...

So many bits to choose from, in't there?

It's probably just the...

all the...

wuthering.

- That's so funny. - Is it?

The wuthering.

I actually prefer the heights.

Anyway, we'd better get on with this nonsense.

Tell you what, let's not describe moors in a positive light.

Let's describe them in their true light.

Yeah. Dark light.

Nice oxymoron.

So, how about...

"Under the brooding skies,

"the moors stretch out like a violent sea of malign feeling"?

Nice.

Katie and I were kept behind because our work apparently showed...

...a morbid disrespect for the perfect beauty of Yorkshire.

So we had to sit and rewrite

while everybody else went to play rounders.

But we didn't care, because we knew really that we were

the young, gifted and talented‐est

in the entire funding district.