You made it, then? Should have sent a man for you.
I didn't need a man, I had Clint.
I heard that.
All right, Don, clear to go in? Yeah. Help yourself.
Shall we?
Er, no thanks. It's just, the adult ones are bad enough.
Yeah, all right.
See you later.
Over there.
Thanks.
So small.
Wrapped in 1970s newspaper.
Elderly couple lived here way back in the '60's,
but it's been empty since.
And way off the beaten track.
Condemned - due to coastal erosion.
A couple more years and the sea would probably have it.
Bury the evidence forever.
Well, it looks newborn, or near enough.
And if the birth happened way out here in the middle of nowhere,
then the mum would have been pretty frightened...
confused.
Managed to hide the body, though, didn't she?
That kind of suggests foul play.
Well, not necessarily. We don't know the circumstances.
Childbirth can be pretty traumatic.
You know women don't have an easy ride.
Yeah, neither do men, having to put up with them. Ha!
Must have been pretty nice here, once upon a time.
Poor little thing, abandoned in such a lonely place.
Yeah. What sort of person does that, eh?
Remains of the baby were found early this morning,
hidden in a condemned cottage at Bluff Point.
Demolition workers onsite said that the remains had been sealed
up in a small nook in a chimney breast.
Police are yet to identify, but a forensic investigation is underway.
Detective Sergeant Higgins said that the...
It's not much to go on.
Sex is undetermined, maybe a month premature, but perfectly formed.
Apart from the broken ribs.
Well, there's no way to tell whether that happened post mortem.
Or prior to death.
You know, the longer I do this job,
the more I realise some people just shouldn't be allowed to have kids.
Well, at least we got a date.
Yeah, 1976. Decades back, so DNA's doubtful.
Well, a full nuclear they said, but we might get something from
the bone marrow, and the baby had hair.
Actually, Clint, can you get the lab to put a rush on that, please?
Yeah, on it. Thanks.
So there's a chance we'll get mitochondrial DNA to check
against potential mothers.
Good. Cos it's the mother we're after.
..it may have been there for up to 40 years...
We won't be going at all at this rate!
..hidden in a cottage which has been derelict since the 1960s.
Shush! Shush! Shush!
..Police say that although the condition of the baby's
remains makes determining cause of death difficult, they have
reason to suspect foul play. Talking to reporters...
Detective Sgt Higgins said the police are appealing for information.
The national information line number is...
I just don't see why it's always the woman's fault.
Yeah, me neither.
In your case, because you got caught. You've missed a bit.
Grounded again? Yes. Yep.
Still rolling in at all hours,
so I have had to leave her in the care of a responsible adult.
I'm not saying it's definitely the mother.
Just, if that baby was newborn then she must have been part of
what happened.
Yeah. Or maybe the father or someone else. Yeah, no-one reported it missing, did they?
What mother's not going do that, unless she did it?
Lonely old place, that cottage.
Touch of the man-flu?
Touch of the Ebola, more like.
As generously shared by your mother last week - along with her
delectables.
You know it, then, Mick? Bluff Point?
Yeah. My old man used to do jobs up
there back in the '60s when I was a nipper.
Nice old couple, but miles from anywhere.
Apart from that great big old house up on the hill.
Who was living there then?
Uh, yeah...
Grey... something, Greyvale? Ron Tate's old place.
Shut down late '70s?
Children's home.
Right. I might see if I can turn up some contact details,
see if there's anyone still around.
I might take a spin past.
Where's my super-strength Day Nurse? Cancel my chips, Mum.
Hi, Clint, did you get hold of the lab?
And any progress on the Grosvenor court date?
Listen, see if you can find any council records on
a Greyvale Children's Home, will you?
Yep, that's it. Active in the '70s.
Just anything you can turn up, really.
What're you after?
..police are appealing for any information from locals...
I know...
I know I just have to find the right time.
'..the remains have yet to be identified but speculation is...'
OK. OK.
'..any information should be directed to the police either
'locally or on the national crime number...'
They know.
Pull!
Seems to be working fine!
Perhaps a touch of performance anxiety?
Quite a place you've got.
Yes, of course it's open to the masses these days,
traipsing through the Great Hall.
But it pays the bills!
So, Greyvale? You were listed on an old police database as...
Yes, a Trustee. Yes.
Pull!
Always getting myself "volunteered" for worthy causes.
Price of being a straight shooter, I suppose.
So what can you tell me about the place?
Gosh, now we're going back.
Well, it seemed well-run, insofar as I could tell. Ron...
Ron Tate, the manager.
He seemed to like a free hand, as I recall.
And what about the kids?
Any troubled girls in particular, getting themselves into bother?
Well, of course they were all vulnerable by definition, but...
..I can't remember any names.
It's been so long ago.
All lost in the mists of time.
Pull!
No! No, no! Go back.
Do excuse me, they cannot be left unattended.
Oh, if you see old Ron, tell him Charles Gower says hello.
So you're Ron Tate's son?
Phil. Greyvale closed yonks back.
Yes.
Investment for some yuppy Londoners now. I'm just caretaking.
But you were living here when it was a children's home?
Working.
As what, if you don't mind me asking?
Whatever my dad needed. Handyman mostly.
You would have been a young man yourself then?
And there were teenage girls living here?
Yeah, not that kind of handy.
I don't remember none of them girls being pregnant.
So, where's your dad now?
Nursing home. Not well.
Oh, I'm sorry. Which one?
You deaf? I said he's ill.
It's just possible your dad might remember something you can't.
My dad worked himself into the ground looking after them kids,
so you're not to go bothering him!
I'm sorry, but I have to go where my investigation takes me.
Well, what about records, or notes?
Would your dad have kept anything on Greyvale?
Suppose there might be some old photos in the shed.
No, you watch my dinner, or he'll have it.
Thanks. Mum?
Babe... I think I need a chest rub.
I got that congestion.
You're not the only one.
Mum. Wow! What are they wearing?!
Loons. Yeah. No kidding.
No, I mean the trousers, silly!
I had a pair in crushed velvet.
My glory days. Gallivanting about, not a care in the world back then.
Babe?
Mum, you were 15 in 1976, weren't you?
D'you know any of these girls?
Got your message.
This Greyvale?
Yeah.
I think these two were in my year.
Karen Shaw.
And Sarah Millar.
Not sure about the other one.
Lucy? May have been the year above.
D'you remember anything about them?
I had me own crowd.
And then I got busy for the next eighteen years, didn't I?
Well, would any of your old crowd know her?
Ooh, I haven't seem 'em for years.
Ask the other two. I think they live local.
Babe, I think I got a temperature now!
Well, you know where to stick the thermometer, don't you!
So, looks like these three girls would be the right age at the
right time. Hmm.
Thanks.
Where are you going? Wait.
Davey!
A bit of warning might have been nice.
This is supposed to be a fun day out -
watching your foster mother hunted down by the police isn't fun.
No-one's hunting anyone, love.
I just asked your neighbours where you were.
Well, they shouldn't have said. There's child-protection issues.
Which bring us back to the matter in hand.
Karen, do you recognise this girl from Greyvale?
No, I dunno.
Really? You two look thick as thieves to me.
I can't remember. It was a long time ago.
Anything else? Yeah, how about a DNA sample?
Just to rule you out of our enquiries?
I think I'd remember if I'd been pregnant.
I'm sorry, but this is about a baby.
A technician, two seconds and we won't bother you again.
Fine.
Thank you very much. Much obliged.
She has got her hands full.
Yeah. But some people foster for the money, though, don't they?
Maybe she's trying to give them the loving home she never had.
Or maybe she couldn't have one of her own? Or maybe she did, and something happened to it?
We've got to do something!
There's nothing we can do.
Here, take these, everything is going to be OK.
No, it's not! How's it ever going to be OK again?
They don't know anything. There is nothing to connect us.
Go in.
Hello.
Sorry to bother you. I'm DS Higgins.
This is my colleague, Jane Kennedy, the Lighthaven coroner.
We're looking for a Sarah Millar. W-What's this about?
Headache.
If you'd rather talk without your husband here...
Oh! Sorry... No, Lee's my brother.
I'm just visiting. From the States.
It's horrible... I heard on the news.
But I don't know what I can tell you.
I don't know anything about a baby.
We were hoping you might remember these two girls.
Karen Shaw?
No. Yeah.
Were you at Greyvale, too?
Are you in there?
No. I hated having my picture taken back then.
Karen says she doesn't remember you.
It's a lifetime ago, isn't it?
And being in care isn't generally a memory you cherish.
What about this girl? Can you give us a name?
Sorry.
Are you sure? Do you want a closer look?
No, sorry.
Is that it?
We'd like a DNA sample.
To compare with what? It's 40 years ago.
Well, we might get something back.
OK.
Lovely, smashing. Shall we?
She seemed a bit... flaky?
Yeah. Dependent, even.
But she did agree to a DNA test, which suggests nothing to hide.
Karen, too.
We need to ID this third girl.
And seeing as Clint hasn't turned up anything yet,
there's only one person left to ask.
Although Phil Tate's not going to be happy...
It's been a long time.
I need a favour.
No, I'm working on it.
Basically, it's too long ago for current records,
but I am into the council archive room now.
So don't worry, it's all under control.
Yes, I'll see you later. Bye.
Ah, spiders!
Right, nurse said he can't speak much since the stroke.
Mr Tate,
I know communication's difficult, but can you remember this girl?
Her name, perhaps? Or anything about her?
We think one of these girls might have had a baby
when they were living at Greyvale.
We've identified Karen and Sarah.
What about any boyfriends on the scene?
All right. Thanks, Ron. Sorry to have bothered you.
Oh.
Charles Gower - sends his regards.
Well, another door closes.
Maybe that's just how it's going to be
until we get something back from the public appeal.
Clint! What've you got?
Really?
Mr Gower.
Hello. Can we have a word?
Of course.
Charles Gower.
Jane Kennedy. Coroner for Lighthaven.
Right, Mr Gower, you'll be very pleased to know
we finally managed to track down the council records on Greyvale.
Oh, did you? Splendid!
Yeah, it's not all good news, though, I'm afraid.
Most of the records on residents were flood-damaged.
However, due to the miracle of plastic folders,
other things survived.
Including your resignation letter from 1976,
citing "financial difficulties."
Oh, yes?
Yeah, but the real head-scratcher is
your company records showed a profit.
So I was just wondering where the money went.
Whether someone's holding your feet to the flames over something
or... Something at Greyvale?
No, no, no, no, no..!
No, it wasn't like that.
I had what is today called an addiction.
But my father laughingly called "a defect in my moral character."
A defect?
Yes.
Well, gambling.
I got myself into quite a pickle. Had to resign.
Shameful, I know...
But I had nothing to do with this business.
I was merely a trustee, simple as that.
Never hands-on with any of the young people, like...
Like who?
There were rumours, later on, that Greyvale...
wasn't so well run by the family concerned,
and HAD to close.
That's all I know...
Right, OK. Thanks for your time.
He didn't name any names. No. But he was clearly talking about the Tates.
Yeah, but which one? Ron or Phil? And either way it's not enough
to bring them in for questioning, is it? And then he clammed up.
Like he was scared, maybe, or holding something back?
Just like everyone else we've talked to.
You think the third girl could be the mother?
She just looks so lost. No-one seems to remember
who she is, or what happened to her. Or the baby.
Two lost souls.
What the hell're you playing at, eh?! I got a call
from my dad's nursing home! They had to sedate him after you left!
All right, all right! Take it easy, my friend!
We were only there for five minutes and he was fine.
I ain't your friend. I told her to stay away.
All right, Come on. Come on.
You owe me counselling, for the spiders. Ugh...
And the women... There she is!
How are you, my baby?
Still cute and cuddly as the day you were born.
Yeah, and house-trained now. Mum, what are you up to?
Oh, rebelling! Recapturing our lost youth.
Or any other youth.
All right? You lot causing trouble?
'70s night at The Captain's Pipe!
You got me thinking. Round up the old gang,
paint the town red like we used to do in the old days!
We were underage back then.
Are they your old school friends?
Tina's still got her old disco tapes.
We're off now for a few more bevvies and a boogie.
I'll give you girls a lift.
Come on, you can save your platforms for Barry White.
Great idea!
You always were a good girl.
Yeah. We'll catch up on the good old days.
Look at some old photos.
I see you, Davey.
It's OK, Dad. I've sorted the police.
They won't be bothering you again.
Lee?
Lee who?
But...
did you...?
It's all OK now, I promise.
We're safe?
Yeah, see?
I made it all go away, like always.
Shh. Come on.
Oi! You in there?
I don't know what your game is,
but you stay away from my dad or I'll have you!
(You should leave tonight.
(There's nothing more you can do here.
(Lee!)
Davey, it's me again.
Listen, Mum's friend ID'd the third girl,
and I want to hit Sarah with it.
She's obviously the weak link, but I can't split them up on my own.
I need you to call me back.
Look, call me back.
Samson!
Sammy?
Here, boy!
It was Lisa, wasn't it? The third girl.
Do you remember her now? No...
Maybe a bit.
No-one really knew her. A bit?
She was your sister.
That's what I've heard from your school friends.
So where is she, Sarah? Where's Lisa? What happened? I don't know.
I can't say. Is it Lee? No! Keeping you quiet?
No! Lisa's gone.
Gone where? She's dead!
Dead?
How?
Sarah, how?
Busted!
My responsible adult.
Having a clearout?
It's just we've had a tip-off you might be hiding evidence.
Where are you, Lisa?
Hello?
You were caught, bang to rights, my friend,
with this lock of hair in your shed. No, I've never seen that before!
The preliminary forensic examination of which suggests it comes from
the hair of that baby. And I'll bet the DNA backs it up.
I've never seen it! Then what's it doing in your shed? I don't know!
What?!
All right.
Interview suspended at 10:34.
You have a good think about what you want to say next.
And it better be a darned sight better than "I've been framed."
What is it? Did you get my messages? No, I've been kind of busy here.
I think we need to get CSI back to the cottage
with ground-penetrating radar. Why? Sorry, my messages.
So, mum's friend recognised the third girl. Her name is Lisa.
She was Sarah and Lee's sister.
I just went to confront Sarah with it and she told me
that Lisa's dead. Dead? How?
She wouldn't say but, Davey, something's not right.
And then it got me thinking - I know mitochondrial DNA is the same
between sisters, but what if Sarah was the mum, she...
Whoa, Sarah is the mum. The DNA's just come back.
It's a match. She would have been underage.
And if the father wasn't, that's rape,
and the baby would have been proof.
So, what if Lisa found out who the father was
and he killed her and the baby to hush it all up?
All right.
OK.
So who are you looking at for the father?
Phil?
He's denying everything, of course.
Said someone drugged his dog and Lee Millar hassled his dad.
Ron?
Wait. I saw someone leaving the nursing home
just before we spoke to Ron.
That could have been Lee.
He was at Greyvale.
And he does seem to be going around keeping everyone quiet.
I mean, Sarah, Ron Tate?
Yeah, but Lee Millar, the dad.
That's incest.
If Lisa found out and was going to tell,
maybe he had to keep her quiet...
permanently.
Well, well. Gang's all here.
Going somewhere? Only I could do with a chat.
I've got a plane to catch.
Oh, right, OK. Don't worry.
We'll talk to your sister instead.
So you do all know each other?
You reminded us, so we got back in touch.
Hm.
We've matched Sarah's DNA to the baby.
No, you haven't. It was 40 years ago.
Yeah, well, DNA's come on a lot.
We know the mother was either Sarah or Lisa.
Yeah, you know your sister... who died?
Or have you forgotten her again already? No.
What happened to her, then? Cos there's no record of her death.
Am I going to find her buried out at that cottage, too? Leave her alone.
Is Lisa the mother, Sarah, or are you? Stop!
What did you do to that baby? She didn't do anything!
I went to the cottage.
Someone cared about that baby.
But who left the third?
I did.
Cos it's your baby?
You were the father. No.
You're lying! Lee, you have to go now.
We know you went to Ron Tate, tried to shut him up.
Lee, please. Did you hurt Lisa or that baby?
I'd never have hurt him. Him?
Oh, no, no...
How do you know it was a boy?
Because it was your baby.
You were Lisa.
I can't keep doing this.
No more lies.
I was... Lisa...
..once upon a time.
But now I'm Lee.
Like I should have been, from the start.
There was a man...
..at Greyvale.
Someone...
we were supposed to be able to trust.
Charles Gower?
We both caught his eye.
We were too young...
and stupid...
..and petrified to tell anyone.
And no adults noticed?
Later on,
Ron guessed.
Apparently...
Gower made threats.
Friends in high places.
Ron knew that if he rocked the boat,
Greyvale would go down,
and all us kids with it.
Ron was one of the good guys.
But I think it broke him, in the end...
..that it happened on his watch.
And he closed the place down anyway,
while Gower swanned off back to his estate.
He could always spot your weakness.
He'd use anything...
..anyone to get what he wanted.
Yeah, I know.
Poor old Ron Tate needed sedating after just hearing his name.
Lisa was always the strong one.
My big sis, looking out for us.
She...
She distracted him.
She took it all on herself.
OK.
Thank you.
It wasn't my "real" body, anyway...
so I didn't care...
..till I realised I was pregnant.
Being sick in the toilets,
them holding my hair out of my eyes.
Nicking big sweaters to hide the bump.
We were going to run away to our secret cottage.
Like Whistle Down the Wind.
Be our own family, like we'd always wanted.
And is that why the baby was born?
Tom.
And he was perfect...
..but still.
Lifeless.
He never made a sound.
And we didn't know what to do.
I couldn't leave him there.
Not in the cold ground.
Losing Tom...
..more than ever, I needed a new start...
a new life...
a new me.
Gender reassignment surgery was available abroad,
but expensive.
Lee...
I went to Gower...
and I told him that I'd tell,
unless he coughed up.
He didn't even believe there was a baby at first...
..till I gave him proof.
The proof you gave to Gower was a lock of Tom's hair.
It's the only piece of him we would have had left.
I blackmailed him.
And made him resign. Saved Greyvale.
Saved us all.
I went to the Philippines.
I had the hormones,
and later the surgery.
And Lisa died...
..but Lee was born.
And we never forgot Tom's birthday...
..and the family we made.
'I only went to the cottage to say goodbye...
'..but he's not there any more.'
What happens now?
Well, I do have good grounds to believe that Lisa may be guilty
of blackmailing Charles Gower.
Only problem is, there's no Lisa here, is there?
I got you this. Thanks.
So I've released Phil Tate,
told him who framed him, planted the hair.
How did he take that?
He's not best pleased.
Karen and Sarah have both made official complaints against Gower
so, all in all, good work.
Oi!
I still don't know how you managed to find those flowers, though,
when my CSI team couldn't.
Well, you just have to learn to see things like a woman.
Anyway, I couldn't have done it without you.
Oh, that's right. Behind every woman is an even greater man?
Maybe.
You know she's talking about me, right?
Yeah, all right, cheers.
We should go to court.
Oh, no. Oh...
That's not going to end well.
Told you.
My mouth feels like I gargled with hamster.
Now who's the lightweight, eh?
Hair of the dog. Oh.
Seems like we both had something to get out of our system, eh?
Oh, never again.
Moment of madness.
I was trying to find the wild thing I once was before I got...
busy.
All gone now, though?
No way.
But next time just give us a nudge.
I'll help you find it.
Oh, you shouldn't have.
Just to say thanks. What for?
Everything.