Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic

Chemical Dependency

Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky AtlanticShowtime original drama Patrick Melrose dropped its finale last Saturday June 9, 2018.

#PatrickMelrose is based on literature of the same name.

rottentomatoes: 89%

metacritic: 80

imdb: 8.4

Patrick Melrose, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Benedict CumberbatchPatrick Melrose

Patrick Melrose self-medicates his paternal abuse trauma primarily with heroin and cocaine.  Following his father’s passing, Patrick is able to enter recovery.

Patrick Melrose, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Benedict CumberbatchPatrick Melrose, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Benedict Cumberbatch“Hello.  Hello?  Nicholas?  Hello, Patrick?  Can you hear me?  Yes.  I can hear you.  I’m here.  Something like that, yes.  I hardly need to tell you how I feel.  Yes, I’m here.  Where is he now?  Not at this exact moment, no.  Yes, it’s… a great blow.  Goodbye.” — Patrick Melrose

“Old bastard’s only gone and died.  I forgot to ask, I was too dizzy with glee.  I’m sorry, I mean, dazed with grief.  I wonder – could you please stop fiddling with my hair?  I need a drink, a serious drink.  Let’s celebrate.  ‘Suffering’s what takes place with other people are eating.’  Who said that?  I’m sorry.  I’m feeling a bit mad at the moment.  It was a complicated relationship.  Yes, I’m not sure the heroin’s helping either.  Of course it wasn’t a good idea!  I’d better leave before you tell me to seize the fucking day.  Unlikely.  I’ll merely have to do the work of two.  Debbie, I’m sorry, I’m not fit for human company.  I can’t.” — Patrick Melrose

“She’s working with Save The Children in Chad.  No-one can break the news.  Indeed.  What’s that?  That’s more like it.  By the way, I think I’m going to give up drugs.  You don’t think I can.  I’ve done it before.  Well, you’re wrong.  I’m gonna get it right this time.  Cocaine and heroin at least.  Don’t want to run before I can walk.  To which end, have you got any more Valium?  Help me wean myself off.  No, my mummy’s the one with all the money, and she’s very healthy.” — Patrick Melrose

“‘And the sun shone, having no alternative.’  Well, it’s time to seize the fucking day!  Goodbye.  And goodbye.  And goodbye, heroin, my old friend.  People make far too big a deal about getting clean.  On the other hand… air travel can be very stressful.” — Patrick Melrose

“Hm.  I’m not going to score off anywhere.  Seriously, Johnny.  You must do whatever you want, but if I’m to take control of my life, it has to be now.  This is one of the most important things to have happened me and I want to get it absolutely right.  I wish I had your determination.  Thank you for the lift.  As in so many other occasions, I wouldn’t have made it without you.  An entirely new man.” — Patrick Melrose

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, cheer up.  Think happy thoughts.  Remember why you’re here.  You’re here to collect your father’s corpse!  Vallium’s wearing off, feeling just a little twitchy now.  Hold on.  Just… hold on.  Queasy, nervous, maggots under the skin, litter of drowning kittens in my stomach.  Fuck off!  Can you take another route? I really, really need to get to my hotel.  Always eloquent.  Could you please send up a bottle of whiskey and a very great deal of ice– Christ, talk about temptation.  Oh, nothing.  Just talking to myself.  It works!  Yes, I have used a television before.” — Patrick Melrose

“Another withdrawal.  Paranoia, cramps, suicidal thoughts… thank you.  Still, at least it’s the last time.  Or among the last times.  Not this time.  This time it’s different.  No prisoners.  Concentration like a flame-thrower.  New day, new beginning.  The trick is not to think about it.  How can you not think about it?  It’s like not wanting to get out of a wheelchair when the room’s on fire.  Oh, God.  For the best heroin in town, simply call Pierre, 555-1726.  That’s Pierre, 555-1726.  Don’t think about it.  Patrick!  Yes, nanny?  What you need, young man, is a nice walk in the park.  No smack, though!  I want to make that absolutely clear.  No, nanny.  No smack, I swear.  Got any Quaaludes?  I can hardly expect to give up everything at once.  I’ll take give, no, six.  What about speed?  Why the hell are you buying speed?  Are you mad?  Meaning you made them yourself?  Do not buy any speed.  Give me three.  Impulse buy.  That’s right.  Well, not exactly free.  I don’t doubt it, but I’ve given that up!  I’m not an amateur.” — Patrick Melrose

“Yes, I’ve come to see the corpse.  Sorry, can I have a glass of water?  I– I have a large pill stuck in my– not enough saliva– ahhhhh!  Now.  I’ve come to see the corpse of David Melrose.” — Patrick Melrose

“Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars… ..Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, what?  Er… no, thank you.  I can’t fucking believe it!  Wrong fucking corpse!  Death transforms us all, but it’s not so powerful as to turn my father into a small Jew.  Try again.  I don’t want to go to a party, I want to see David Melrose!  Thank you.  And please apologize to– yes, that’s why I took a Quaalude but it must have been a dud.  Can I pick him up later?  I would like to get away from New York if at all possible.  I see.  No chance of a rush job?  Come on.  Come on.  Come on.  Get this right.  Is it… is it dad?  It is!  It’s just what I wanted!  You shouldn’t have!  Fucking hell, dad.  What are you doing in a coffin?  What happened here?  You didn’t want to go, did you?  You knew you were going to die and you were right.  What did that feel like?  Pain or rage?  Were you scared?  Christ, I hope so.  No.  No.  No, no, no!  Aargh!  Aargh!  Fuck.  Aw, you’re so fucking sad, dad, man, and now you’re trying to make me sad too.  Boo-hoo.  Well, bad luck.” — Patrick Melrose

“Uh… antibiotics.  I’m sorry too.  Punctuality is one of the smaller vices I’ve inherited from my father.  Certainly.  For me, it’s nine o’clock.  The mortuary?  Yes, yes, the best I’ve ever seen him.  That’s good news!  Ideally they’d all belong to someone else.  Hm.  When I was young, he used to take us to restaurants – I say restaurants in the plural, because we never stormed in and out of less than three.  I remember one occasion he held a bottle of claret upside down as the contents gurgle out onto the carpet.  ‘How dare you bring me this filth?’  I half expected him to sit upright in the coffin like a vampire at sunset.  ‘Call this a coffin?  The service here is intolerable!’  Mind you, the service was intolerable.  They sent me to the wrong corpse.  Yes.  Ironic that my father’s remains were so hard to find, when I have no trouble discovering them in myself.  It’s good you see you, Anne.  I did need to see a friendly face.  Here come the Quaaludes.  Jet-lag… kicking in.  No, let’s not exaggerate.  Just a little sleepy.  The antibiotics.  Excuse me.  Hah!  Hm.  Very jet-lagged.  Oh, fuck.  Bleur-bleur.  That’ll fool ’em!  Whoo!  I splashed my face with water!  Very refreshing water.   Yes, yes, people say this.  No, no, not this.  Retreat, escape, eject, eject!  And I promise you, I’ve forgotten all about it.  Where is our waiter.  I’m sorry.  I… I really have to go.  I have to be at the solicitor’s by five.  Papers to sign.  Maddening, isn’t it?  But, you know, bureaucracy.  There’s only so much I can do, so uh… look, I am grateful.  You were always very kind to me, ever since I was young and I’m very grateful.  But I… I really… I really must be going now.  Bye.  Bye!” — Patrick Melrose

“Ahh!  We’ve taken Aqaba!  I’ll have another of your very refreshing martinis, and some salmon tartare followed by steak tartare – tartare-tartare, spicy, very spicy.  And your wine list.  Good boy, Patrick.  Get something solid inside you.  Do be quiet, nanny.  Fucking hell, I hope not!  Only the best or go without!  Mm!  You see?  That still works.  Everything is under control.  Very good, thank you.  But it’s not heroin.  Ssssh!  Most people, withdrawing from heroin, high on speed, cudgeled by Quaaludes and jet-lag might balk at the idea of food, but not I.  I eat not from greed but from passion!  Do shut up, will you?  Not you… someone else.  Care for it?  How do you care for a dessert?  Feed it?  Visit it on Sundays?  I’ll have a creme brulee and a Marc de Bourgogne.  But it’s still not heroin, is it?  Heroin’s the cavalry, the missing chair leg.  Heroin is love.  Simply call 555-1726–shut up!  You keep asking that.  But how can everything be okay?  It’s simply too much– you mean the voices aren’t just in my head.  Fuck!  Perhaps I ought to get the erm… I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a quarter for the telephone?  Here’s the deal.  If he answers, score just enough smack to sleep and a little for the morning.  That’s all.  And if he doesn’t answer, so smack at all.  Leave it to fate. Good idea.  555-1726.  Oh!  Fuck you, fate!  Fuck, fuck.  Fuck, fucking fate, fuck, fuck!” — Patrick Melrose

“Oh, God.  That’s what I’m relying on.  Uh… just wait here for me.  Oh, fuck.  Smack.  Certainly not.  I’m an Englishman.  Sure, I can take you to Loretta’s.  I didn’t know you knew Chilly.  Yeah, well, it’s a small world.  Were you really going to stab me?  Well, thank you, Mark, for not stabbing me!  Oh, here and there.  Can you take me to Loretta’s?  I don’t feel good.  50.  60.  So how’s Mrs. Willy, Chilly?  Is she well?  You’ve done something to the room.  It’s different.  What’s different?  I knew there was something.  Chilly says you might have a new syringe.  Is it very blunt?  Christ, that’s not a syringe, it’s a bicycle pump.  How much?  Can I possibly use your bathroom?  Might I suggest that you invest in a new light bulb?  Hardly worth the effort, I missed the vein.  Well, thanks for telling me!  I need better works, Chilly.  Chilly.  Chilly!  Oh, fuck.  Right, then, let’s do this properly.  Only the best or go without.  Columbian cocaine and then China White.  Come on, Pierre.  Just be there, will you?  555-1726.  Pierre?  Is that really you?  Patrick from London.  I’m… having trouble sleeping.  It’s a nightmare out there.  My father?  Oh, he was a kitten.  A prince among men.  He had very artistic hands.  Could have been Prime Minister.  No, no, no, it was sort of a joke.  In his world, it was better if you could have been Prime Minister, or a… surgeon, or a concert pianist.  To have tried and actually achieved something would have shown vulgar ambition.  I regret he lived.  One mustn’t be too egotistical about these things.  Now for the cocaine.  I had been trying to give this up.  Oh, God.  Oh, God.  Oh, God.” — Patrick Melrose

“Truly I have dined in Les Bains… I’ve also dined in, uh… Khartoum.  When the ferocious young mummy offered me a dish of human flesh, I did not allow prudishness to prevent me from requesting a third portion.  Indeed, I did not– human flesh?  I ask you, what next?  Hm!  You always were a strange boy.  Tonight’s special includes a free salad – Columbian cocaine, nestling on a bed of wild baby Chinese White Heroin… I tell you about the aristocracy and their filthy ways.  Don’t, don’t, don’t think about it.  What filthy ways?  You won’t find nanny telling tales out of school.  My lips are sealed.  But, oh, the stories I could tell you!  Please, please, please make it stop!  Now, I want you to listen to the silence.  Can you hear it?  Become part of the silence.  Good.  Now I want you to visualize a pagoda.  Can you see it?  Beautiful, isn’t it?  Yes, yes, Ron, it is.  It’s beautiful.  Now I want you to step into it, Patrick.  Erm… is there something in there?  Yes, Patrick.  Your mum and dad.  Mum and dad?  I want you to go up to your mother and I want you to say to her: ‘I love you, mummy.’  Mum, I really love you.  That’s good, now embrace her.  Feels good, doesn’t it?  Yes, it feels good.  I want you to go up to your father and say: ‘you, on the other hand. I cannot forgive.’  You, on the other hand, I cannot forgive.  Fuck off.  Good, now take a revolver and shoot his fucking brains out.  Bang, bang, bang, bang!  If you ever tell your mother or anyone else, about today… ..I will snap you in two!  Fuck off, all of you!  So take the heroin, then.  Take it now.” — Patrick Melrose

“Mother?  Can you hear me?  Mother?  Hello?  Oh… fuck!  It’s five-thirty in the morning.  Given that you’ve phoned me here– you mean have I taken any drugs?  Well, I’ve been shooting cocaine and heroin all night.  Does that count?  In the future, can we agree that, no, it is not a good idea?  Yeah.  Me, too.  But apparently that’s not an option.  No, Debbie, this is not one of your dinner parties.  It’s a very emotional time.  I’m not in a fit state to see anyone.  Marianne?  Oh, that Marianne.  I’ve got drinks with my father’s awful friends but… I’ll see whether I’m up to it later.  Marianne, Marianne, Marianne.  Hi, Patrick, it’s nice to see you.  It’s so wonderful to talk to someone who understands.  No ice!  This is intolerable!  Everything’s wrong, everything’s hopelessly fucked up!  Ice!  Must have more of your delicious ice, por favor!  Room 3318.  Shit.  Shit.  These aren’t my arms.  Hm.  Pip, pip!  Be prepared.” — Patrick Melrose

“George!  No, nothing like that.  I picked something up on the plane.  Yes.  Ooh.  No.  The gang’s all here.  George!  What have you been telling him?  ‘Never apologize, never explain.’  That was another one.  ‘Observe everything, trust no-one.’  ‘Never try, effort’s vulgar.’  ‘Things were better in the 18th century.’  Oh, and, ‘despise all women, but your mother most of all.’  I’ve acquired it!  Another, please.  If you like pastiche.  That depends.  Some people don’t like uninterrupted rudeness, or so I’m told.  What a lot of faithful gun dogs.  There.  I’ve got a hunting story for you, Ballentine, from my father.  Nicholas, you know the one.  Father was a cavalry officer stationed in India in the 1920s, and he used to go pig-sticking, galloping through the high grass with a lance, hunting wild boar.  Very dangerous, these wild boar.  They could take down a horse, and gore a rider to death – but thrilling too.  Anyway, the only blemish on this particular trip… I think I heard this story when I was, what, eight? ..was that one of the hunting party was bitten by a wild dog and developed the symptoms of rabies.  Three days from the nearest hospital and this hunting party of judges and generals decided to truss up their foaming, thrashing friend in a net and hoist him off the ground.  Dinner was served… much the kindest thing to do.  Eventually.  Excuse me.  Oh.  Good idea.  Oh, Christ.  Dad.  I’ve got to pick up dad.  Fuck.  Excuse me.  Hello.  Hello?  Please.  You have my father!  No.  I need his remains now.  I’m flying first thing.  And I can’t leave without him.  It’s… David Melrose.  Please?  Could I possibly trouble you for a paper bag?  Now, Marianne.  I have half a gram of coke, a fifth of heroin, one Quaalude, one Black Beauty.  A few lines to get the conversation flowing, a Quaalude for Marianne to get her in the mood.  Perhaps pity is the way, in which case use it for the comedown, sleep on the plane.  My God, you’re good.  Then you’re home, thank Christ for Concorde.  Johnny will be waiting and… well, let’s see.” — Patrick Melrose

“Hello, I’m Patrick, Marianne’s friend.  Yes, of course.  Oh!  Sorry, bit distracted.  It’s just erm… awww!  I turned blue in your bathroom.  Yes!  ‘Tis I.  Hm!  You should have heard the remarks.  Yes, Nancy.  Yes, it was.  9th June, 1906.  The day he was born.  Mm-hmm.  Cruelty is the opposite of love, not some inarticulate expression of it.  Hello.  You’re the answer.  You’re the one to save me, can’t you tell?  I want to be buried here.  If I could have you, I’d give up drugs forever.  Or at least have someone attractive to take them with.  Can we go out to dinner?  Please say yes!” — Patrick Melrose

“Absolutely.  I love Armenian.  Oh.  If it makes you feel uncomfortable, then… well, off it comes.  Perhaps I should take my eye-patch off too… I’l leave it on.  Two martinis, please.  Don’t you?  Bad sign.  Very, very bad.  Your point being?  I absolutely agree.  I don’t usually either but, you know – grief.  Say something, remember how this is done, something other than lies or ridicule or contempt.  Debbie sends her love.  Not that, you fucking idiot!  Oh, she’s a great girl.  Very, very supportive.  Change the subject.  She tells me you’re studying law.  I once thought about studying law.  Imagined myself in Twelve Angry Men, terrifically articulate, righting wrongs– thank you.  ‘Cause hard work and ambition are vulgar.  Me?  No, no, no, no, that’s what he said.  You are absolutely right.  Do you know what?  I feel inspired!  I’m gonna do something about it the minute I get off the plane.  A new man!  Do you hear that, dad?  I’m gonna be a lawyer!  Don’t be, I think it counts as hand luggage.  Yes!  Let the waiters kick him about.  Revenge at last!  Why should he get away with it, just because he’s dead?  I’m sorry.  Will you forgive me?  The martinis are excellent.  Who says they don’t mean to?  Not while he was alive.  Probably for the best.  I… I would have said… I would have told him… ‘nobody should do that to anybody else.’  Oh, sorry.  I took the question seriously.  Oh.  Just that… never mind.  No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.  Marianne… we’ve always had a connection, haven’t we?  I mean, I’m not just imagining it.  I don’t suppose you want to do a Quaalude, do you?  I’m sorry for being a bit screwy.  Oh.  Good… yes.  Good night.  Good night!  You know, sometimes I think if I was to meet the right woman, someone intelligent, who wasn’t afraid to challenge me, I might actually be able to get my life back in order.  No, please, don’t go.  I really need the company or I don’t know what I’ll do.  I’m an idiot, I’m sorry, but, look, please don’t go!  Look.  I don’t wanna be on my own tonight, I can’t.  And there isn’t anyone else.  Just sit with me.  Don’t leave me alone!  She’s right.  You’re not alone.  And you never will be.  Death and destruction.  Shame and violence.  Ungovernable shame and violence.  Just fuck off!” — Patrick Melrose

“Aaargh!  Fuck!  I’m gonna flush you down the loo, send you to the sewers with the alligators and the shit.  How? What’s the point of a fucking window if you can’t jump out of it?  I want to die.  I want to die.  Well, it’s not as if you don’t have the means.  Anesthetic first, surely, doctor?  No, Patrick. Scalpel first, anesthetic afterwards.  Ssssh!  You’re safe.  Nobody can find you here.  But what if nobody finds me here?” — Patrick Melrose

“Don’t mind.” — Patrick Melrose

“Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.  Let’s just go ahead and finish it.  Hmmm… oh!  Ahhhhh!  Ahhhhh…” — Patrick Melrose

“Mummy?  What time is it?  Are we going now?  I do want to go.  Very much.” — Patrick Melrose

“‘And the sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.’  Life’s not just a bag of shit, but a leaky one.  You can’t help being touched by it.  Don’t you find?  Hmm.  ‘There will be rivers of blood and the wicked shall be drowned.  Nor shall the high places be spared.  And the bridges shall be swept away.  And men shall say that the end of the world cometh upon them.’  And they shall have a point.  They shall have a very good point.  Well, no-one can say I don’t know how to have fun.  Enjoyed isn’t the word.  I loved it!  Or did I?  What I mean is – no need to call Vienna!  Thank you very much.  So, rivers of blood, eh?  Never mind.  Never mind.  Oh.  Never mind.  Oh, come on, come on.  Johnny, Johnny.  Can you hear me?  Oh, fine.  I tried to kill myself last night.  The bottom.  Erm… look, I haven’t got long.  Can you hear me?  I’ve decided, I’m gonna take control of my life.  I’m gonna get clean.  Hello, Johnny.  Can you hear me?  Of course.  People always make such a fuss about these things.” — Patrick Melrose

“When I was eight, and for some years afterwards my father ‘abused’ me as… we’re invited to call it these days.  I… it was… oh, God… nobody should do that to anybody else.  The first time– do you think you could leave us alone for one fucking minute so we can have a conversation?  Do we look like children?  Do we look like we’re interested in the fucking fireworks?  What do I mean by abused?  I mean sexually abused.  Well, now you know.  The first incident masqueraded as a punishment, though I never knew the crime… which gave it a certain Kafkaesque charm.. yes, I think that is what happened.  What makes you think that?” — Patrick Melrose

“I swear, if I hear one more person telling me how innocent she was– please, Mary, no.  No, no, no.  Stop!  This is not grief or mourning.  This is rage, my heart is racing with it.  She knew!  She must have known.  Surely she must have, even subconsciously.  She knew what he was like and yet she failed to do the one thing she was obliged to do, to protect her son!  Christ knows, I’ve been a fucking useless father and a useless husband.  And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.  But if I thought someone was gonna harm our children, I would fight.  Even I would do whatever it takes because if you love someone, you protect them.  But my mother?  Christ, no wonder he stuck with her!  All those children around and a son thrown into the bargain.  He couldn’t believe his fucking luck!  Years and years of it, doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.  Nobody should do that to anybody else.  No… Christ, Mary.  I thought I was getting better, but I’m such a fucking mess.” — Patrick Melrose

“No.  No.  I won’t do what you say anymore.  It’s wrong.  You’re wrong!  Nobody should do that to anybody else.” — Patrick Melrose

Nicholas Pratt, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Pip TorrensNicholas Pratt

“Patrick?  Hello, Patrick, is that you?  Patrick, I’m afraid I have rather bad news.  Hello?  I’m in New York.  There appears to be a delay.  Can you hear me?  It concerns your father.  Your father died the night before last, in his hotel room.  It must come as an awful shock to you.  I adored your father.  Everybody liked him.  I know he wasn’t always the easiest of men.  Are you there, Patrick?  David?  He’s at Frank E. Macdonalds, the funeral people on Madison.  Everyone goes there.  ‘Only the best or go without,’ as your father would have said.  If you want to see him and collect the ashes… do you have much on?  Then we must meet up.  Why don’t we meet at the Key Club?  George Watford’s here.  We’ll raise a glass to your father’s extraordinary life.  Well, until then, I’m sorry to be the bearer of such sad tidings.” — Nicholas Pratt

“Hello, little man.  I’m sorry for your loss.  You must be feeling ghastly.  What happened to your eye?  Girl trouble?  Now that I’m responsible for your moral guidance– it suits you.  Very raffish.  You’ll fit right in here.  His family own a bank.  At least I think they do.  I’ve asked the question.  But it’s so hard to listen to his fucking answers.  All very wise.  And in conversation, too.  Oh, Christ, here we go.  The thought you never have is that someone might not be interested.  For the goat, certainly.  Steady on, Patrick.  Enough now.” — Nicholas Pratt

“You know it’s a real turn-on, you reaching for the clock like that.  You might help out here.  Move around a little.  Oh, God, what’s the bloody point?  Ruined beauty.  It won’t be long before they say… ‘he used to be so handsome.’  Give over, luv, give over.  Oh, Christ, there’s the taxi.  I told you.  The South of France!” — Nicholas Pratt

“David doesn’t have a penny.  His terrible father cut him off.  Left him nothing but a pair of old pajamas.  For daring to defy him, becoming a doctor.  Before that, he wanted to be a composer.  Could have, too.  Eleanor, on the other hand, comes from one of the richest families in America.  All new money, of course, from the patent on a dry-cleaning fluid, but completely loaded.  The house was the first thing he persuaded her to buy.  First summer there, we were all sitting on the terrace and she complained about the dreadful waste of figs that fell from the tree onto the ground and rotted there, while there were people starving in the world.  And David did this amazing thing.  He told Eleanor to get down on all fours and eat every fig off the ground… yes.  She didn’t protest, though.  She just ate every single one.” — Nicholas Pratt

“Ah.  Very like you, Eleanor, to get more fun than you wanted.  Ha-ha.  Oh, will you excuse me just a minute?  What the hell are you playing at?  I’ve been carrying these fucking suitcases around looking for you!  Don’t you ever do this again, you stupid– and this is Bridget Watson-Scott.  Eleanor Melrose.  He’s no one.  Shall we?” — Nicholas Pratt

“I’d almost forgotten how wonderful it is here.  Eleanor, what a sad thing to say.  Tell me it isn’t true.  I wonder where David is.  Do you think you might possibly puck up and make a little light conversation.  Something other than how vivid the colors are.  What?  Bridget.  Bridget, no.  Get up!  I said, get up – what if David sees you?  I said, get up!  God!  Bridget!” — Nicholas Pratt

“Bridget?  Hm.  She’ll do for now.  Sometimes I think I should be done with it and settle down with a well-bred, well-educated, well-informed woman whose conversation I can bear.  And then I remember I’ve… divorced two of them already.” — Nicholas Pratt

Debbie Hickman, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Morfydd ClarkDebbie Hickman

“How did he die?  Mm-hm.  We could go out for a glass of wine.  Or… you’re probably not interested, but we have been invited to Gregory and REbecca’s for dinner.  There’s a lot to think about.  Do you think that was a good idea?  I merely meant that perhaps this might be a good time to make a change.  Start afresh!  Do you think, now he’s dead, that you could be a little less like him?  Don’t go.  Stay.  Come back to bed.  You know, I heard it somewhere that grief was meant to be an aphrodisiac.  Do you think that might be true?” — Debbie Hickman

“Hello?  Hello, Patrick?  Patrick, I heard the news.  I don’t know what to say.  Hello!  It’s me!  You sound sleepy.  Are you sleeping?  Have I woken you up?  Oh.  So sorry, sorry, sorry.  Well, I thought with jet-lag you’d be pacing the room.  Are you at the hotel?  I merely meant, I have been up all night worrying about you and wanted to know how you are.  No.  Not just that.  Why?  Have you?  Was that a good idea?  I thought… I really thought you’d be able to make a change.  You shouldn’t be alone.  I have arranged for you to have dinner with someone.  You need to be with people who care about you, and I’ve already fixed it with Marianne.  My old university friend.  You passed out in her loo.  They had to take the doors off.  Remember?  She’d love to see you.  Any time after seven-thirty.  I’ve faxed you the address.  Remember, I… I do love you.  Patrick?  Patrick?” — Debbie Hickman

Julia, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Jessica RaineJulia

“Ha!  You wish.  How’s your mother taking it?  Always thinking of others.  Valium.  I’m a little skeptical.  Exactly!  What’s so different this time?  You’re hardly the rehab-type and besides, you like it too much.  Addicts don’t give up until they hit rock bottom, and you never will.  You’re too upholstered.  Well, good for you, Patrick!  Sorry, last one.  Please don’t take this the wrong way: does this mean you’re now fantastically rich?” — Julia

Johnny Hall, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Prasanna PuwanarajahJohnny Hall

“Well, good luck.  Don’t score off the streets.  I wish I had your determination.  It’s a pleasure.  I’ll see you back here in two days’ time: a new man.” — Johnny Hall

“Patrick, how are you?  My God.  Where are you calling from?  Christ, are you alright?  Patrick?  Tell me when you land.  I’ll come and meet you.  Yes.  Yes, I can.  That’s wonderful, but… are you sure this time?  So what do you want to do?  Patrick?  Patrick?  What are you going to do instead?  Are you there?” — Johnny Hall

“What do you mean, ‘abused?’  Oh, God, I’m sorry.  No wonder you hated him so much.  What a bastard.  It must have split the world in half.  It just seemed obvious.” — Johnny Hall

David Melrose, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Hugo WeavingDavid Melrose

“Patrick!  Come here!  Right now!” — David Melrose

“Lanterns down the table, gleam of silver, well-trained servants.  But none of us could quite enjoy dinner with all that screaming.  So I got up from the table, fetched my pistol, went over to the rabid man and shot him in the head.  Much the kindest thing to do.  Everyone agreed.  Eventually.  And that, I think, was the beginning of my love affair with medicine.” — David Melrose

“Good God, what an appalling dump.  You see what I’m reduced to?  Your mother will be delighted.  I can see her gloating, when you report back.  Do you report back?  Now… left or right?  I’m a very tired man.  Come and talk to me, Patrick.  Patrick, come and talk to your dear old dad.  Please…” — David Melrose

“Patrick?  Ah, Yvette!  It’s you!  Bonjour.  Ah, yes.  A beautiful day.  I sense autumn… ..don’t you?  Je sens l’automne.  Any sign of my darling wife?  Has she risen, like the sun, to cast her golden rays on us?  And my son.  I hoped to spend the day with him.  Everyone seems to be hiding from me this morning.  Well… you be careful with my wife’s china, it’s extremely valuable.” — David Melrose

“Eleanor?  Patrick?  Where’s everyone hiding?  Where are you off to?  There are hours yet.  Ah.  I see.  You’ll leave Patrick here.  You remember our discussion?  Well.  His flight lands at two.  Off you go.” — David Melrose

“I know your there.  Hello, Mr. Master Man.  Have they all gone?  Good.  We’ll have our special day.  Do you recognize this?  You wrote it for me.  When I left Eton, my father asked me: ‘what do you want to do with your life?’  I didn’t dare tell him I wanted to compose music.  ‘I don’t know, sir,’ I said.  What did he say?  Hm.  What will you do with your life… I wonder?  Now… shall I pick you up by the ears?  Come here.  Ready?  Now let go!  Let go and I’ll drop you.  Trust me.  On three.  Ready?  One, two, three!  You’ve learnt a very useful lesson today.  Think for yourself.  Never let other people make important decisions for you.  Do you understand?  Do you understand?  Don’t whimper.  It’s very unattractive.  Patrick!” — David Melrose

“Don’t you dare!  Don’t you dare ever do that again!  Come up to my room.  Now!  Come over here.  You know perfectly well.  Closer.  Do you know who King Shaka was?  King Shaka was a great and mighty Zulu warrior… ..who made his troops stamp thorn bushes into the ground and march for days across hot jagged rocks.  The soles of their feet were slashed and burnt.  And though there was resentment and pain at the time, the calluses this created meant that eventually nothing would harm them. They would feel no pain.  And what had felt like cruelty at the time was actually a gift.  It was actually love.  I don’t expect you to thank me now but I hope perhaps… when you’re older you’ll be grateful for the skill of detachment that I’ve instilled.  Go and close the door.  Do I have to close it myself?  Very well.  Take your trousers down.” — David Melrose

“Darling.  Eleanor?  I thought we’d agreed that you wouldn’t rush to Patrick each time he whines and blubbers.  In that case he may need a doctor.  You see, darling?  He isn’t hurt.  And so it’s just a question of sentiment.  Does one allow oneself to be blackmailed or not?  If you sit, we can discuss it.  The proposition I’d like to make is that education should be something of which a child can later say: ‘If I survived that, I can survive anything.'” — David Melrose

“Can’t sleep?  No, me neither.  Must be all the excitement.  All these people.  Here… is that better?  I’ll leave you now.  But know one thing.  If you ever tell your mother… ..or anyone else, about today… ..I will snap you in two.” — David Melrose

Anne Moore, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Indira VarmaAnne Moore

“Hello, Patrick.  What’s up?  You’re shaking.  What is it, Patrick?  What about your mother?  Do you want to tell your mother?  Okay, I’ll be right back.  I promise.” — Anne Moore

“Well, that looks fun.  Patrick, I am so sorry.  I think you know that’s not what I meant.  Oh, tea, please, Earl Gray.  And another of these?  For you, it’s always nine o’clock.  Oh, what the hell – a martini for me too, please.  So, have you been to… well, I don’t wanna disillusion you, but when they give you the ashes, they’re really just the communal rakings from the bottom of the oven.  Well, at least he’s somewhere he can’t complain about.  The wrong corpse?  Well… he was a complicated man.  Which is why I was… … so keen to talk to you today.  Patrick, are you okay?  You wanna go lie down?  Oh, good God.  What happened to you in there?  What kind of water?  Patrick, please sit down, you’re making me nervous.  Patrick, I really wanted to apologize.  When I found you on the stairs– I promised I’d get your– you seemed in distress.  You always did.  Your mother too.  There was such an atmosphere in that house.  And I should’ve done more.  What?  We’ve barely– really?  But we’ve only just–” — Anne Moore

“Caligula, appropriately enough.  Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have.  Made breakfast.  Well, I’m sorry, I’d no idea there’d be a test.  Well, did you know Caligula tortured his wife to find out why he was so devoted to her?  What’s David’s excuse, I wonder?  And what’s in this for you, Sir Victor?  If you’re so scared of him, why are we even here?  When I was at college, the football heroes got to sleep with the cheerleaders.  At Eton, they got to beat young boys for burning the toast.  I’m sure it’s very American of me, but I fail to see what’s so glamorous about lost promise.  ‘Distinguished’ for what?  For doing nothing for a long time in the same place?  The only one I like is the boy.  At least he still has a little life in him.  Patrick, are you gonna come with us?  I’m sure we can make an exception?  Perhaps I should drive.  Not the way I drive.  Bye.  Sounds idyllic.  So is Patrick looking forward to going back to school?  I’m sorry, I thought– hey.  Hey, wake up!  That’s not a good idea.  May I speak frankly?  Do you think perhaps you’re drinking a little too much?  Too much for lunch, for your own good.  For Patrick’s.  Obviously, it’s never possible to know exactly what goes on in a family– good.  Oh.  But do we have time?  Sure.  Oh, there’s your Cadillac!  You know, I’m so glad we did this.  Girls’ day out.  David?  I’m sure it’s only for a moment. Oh, just a few minutes.  I’m sure he won’t mind.  A few minutes.  There’s nothing to worry about.  Eleanor– Eleanor, are you afraid of him?  You seem afraid.  Eleanor, you have to stay still.  Eleanor.  Eleanor!  Oh, of course.” — Anne Moore

George Watford, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, John StandingGeorge Watford

“Ah, Patrick.  Bang on time.  Just like your father.  He was very, very proud of you.  I expect you know that.  Yes!  I think you’ll find this place amusing.  I mean, your father did.  It has all the things that you can’t find in England and more.  Have you had a bullshot?  Waiter, waiter!  Three bullshots, please.  I’ve invited Ballantine Morgan, thought I suspect he’s the most frightful bore.  Here we are.  Only what an exceptional man your father was.  Well, I never met anybody quite like him.  He refused to compromise!  ‘Nothing but the best, or go without!’  I quite agree!  Ah!  Here are our bullshots!  Beef consommé and vodka; something of an acquired taste.  His father was a very impressive pianist.  It’s true, I did once ask him to stop being so argumentative.  Told me to bugger off!” — George Watford

Eleanor Melrose, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Jennifer Jason LeighEleanor Melrose

“Oh, my darling.  I’m so sorry to wake you.  It’s very early.” — Eleanor Melrose

“Hm… to pick up Nicholas from the airport.  I wanted a drive.  With Anne.  I promised.  Of course.  Of course.  Patrick, where on earth have you been?  Your father’s been calling for you.  Not now.  Darling, I’m sorry.  I have to pick up Nicholas from the airport.  There’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.  Au revoir!  A bientot!  No!  Your father wants you here with him.  I know it’s strange… ..but your father gets jealous.  He thinks it’s very important that you’re not too dependent on me.  You mustn’t prefer my company to his.  Well, you mustn’t let on.  Be very nice to daddy, yes?  And then you can come find me before dinner.  Tell me about your day and I’ll tell you about mine.  And I promise… I swear, you will have my full attention.  Hello!  Here you are!  Just in time.  I hope you’re comfortable in the cottage.  I’d have put you in the house but you know how David hates to share anything with anyone, even air.  Of course at dinner, he’ll be all over you.  No.  No.  American girls only, I’m afraid.  Victor, aren’t you terribly hot?  How’s the book coming?  Does Freud come into it?  No.  No one else drives this car.  It’s the one thing that’s still mine alone.  Not the way I drive.” — Eleanor Melrose

“Now that’s a meaningful life.  Just like a Red Indian or something.  Getting up with the sun… off the land, connected to the earth.  And if you want a chicken, you have to go out, and strange it yourself.  This is so frustrating.  I wanted to stop for lunch.  Why do people think they’ll please me by asking about Patrick?  I don’t know how he is, only he knows.  Look, you’ll see him tonight.  He’ll be lurking.  Oh, God.  Tonight.  I need a drink.  Ah, yes, here it is!  Lovely place.  There’s Marcel!  Marcel, Marcel!  After the war the Nazis killed every man in the village except Marcel.  Which is lucky for us because the food is wonderful.  Isn’t this fun?  American… girls… I’m awake.  You know what I need?  A cognac.  Of course it is.  It’s exactly what we need after all this heavy food.  It’s for my headache.  Marcel, deux cognacs!  I do hate it when people say that.  Too much for what?  No, it’s not.  Especially when you are neither married nor have children yourself.  Merci, Marcel.  Extraordinary remark.  Mm.  Seeing as you’re so concerned about my welfare… you can drive.” — Eleanor Melrose

“Hello.  Hello.  Oh, that stew was awfully rich.  I feel better now.  Oh, here it is!  ‘L’O.L.  Corral.’  We have to go!  It’ll be like going home.  Of course!  Please?  Please, please, please?  It’s terrific!  Look!  A Ferris wheel!  I’d… I’d like you to understand something.  He wasn’t always like he is now.  When I first met him, he played so brilliantly.  He was so intelligent and beautiful.  So different from all the other English snobs.  We were going to do wonderful things together… useful things.  Of course he was a difficult man… ..even then.  But I thought I could turn to him.  The idea of… turning to him now… ..of being alone in the same room with him… why have we stopped?  We’re gonna be late for Nicholas now.  And he’ll tell David.  It’s so high.  Why have we stopped?  You mustn’t tell David about any of this.  I beg you.  Let’s get off this fucking thing!  Hello!  Hello, down there!  We wanna get off!  Let us off!  Hello!” — Eleanor Melrose

“Nicholas!  I’m so sorry.  We got caught on a Ferris wheel and they wouldn’t let us off.  Nicholas?  And who’s this?  Eight o’clock.  Please don’t be late.  And… and let’s forget about our little conversation this afternoon, yes?  I’ve completely forgotten and I live here.  Okay… it isn’t true.  That’s what David said.  And so I bought it for him.  We were going to do marvelous things.  We were going to turn it into a home for alcoholics.  Which, in a sense, we have.  Don’t worry about your bags.  Yvette will fetch them.  Perhaps he’s drowned in the bath.  I’ll find Yvette.” — Eleanor Melrose

Bridget Watson Scott, Patrick Melrose, Showtime, Sky Atlantic, Holliday GraingerBridget Watson Scott

“What time’s the taxi?  If we miss our flight… oh, you still are.  Eurgh!  Don’t do that, though.  Where are we going this time?  Mm… so who are these Melroses?  In front of you?  Kinky.” — Bridget Watson Scott

“Barry!  Barry! Thank God!  This fabric’s amazing!  God, I’m stoned!  What are you doing here?  I can’t!  I’m staying with these Melrose people.  Oh, God.  Let me give you the number.” — Bridget Watson Scott

“It’s beautiful.  I want one.  She’s really high.  Is this it?  The fig tree.  Is it the same one?  Mmm!  Why are you all so scared of him?  What do you think he’s gonna do to you Nicholas?” — Bridget Watson Scott

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