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“Bad Girls” Recaps: Episode 1.8 “Falling Apart”

THIS WEEK’S RAP SHEET:

The sons: Julie S. gets a gift from her son, while Monica faces a loss.

The snitch: Shell uses everyone, as usual.

The schemers: Nikki, the Julies and Denny conspire to have a party.

Another day — Helen is arriving at Larkhall for the start of another workday. There’s no such thing as a throwaway scene on this show; there’s so much to learn from Helen’s stroll through the gates.

First, Helen drives a Peugeot. Sensible even by British standards. But it’s also red, because Helen’s not one to fade into the woodwork.

Second, she looks good in chains. I know that chain dangling from her pocket is just securing her jailhouse keys, but I’m convinced that the weight of all that metal gives her a little bit of a swagger.

And finally, she’s a good governor: She knows everyone’s name. She says hello to the guards called John and Tony as she signs in and makes her way through a second gate. And she’s not just tossing out pleasantries; there’s genuine kindness and interest in her lovely face.

I’m not the only one who’s studying Helen’s every move. She glances up at a row of cell windows, and if she’s looking anywhere in the vicinity of Nikki’s cell, she knows Nikki’s watching her too. I can’t be sure that’s what Helen’s seeing, but it might explain why she’s just spilled coffee on herself. Helen curses under her breath.

No doubt Nikki’s cursing now too, considering Fenner has just interrupted her reverie:

Fenner: [peering out Nikki’s window] She always manages to be a couple of minutes late. You noticed?

Nikki just smirks and leaves. I don’t understand why the inmates haven’t conspired to claw Fenner’s eyes out yet.

The breakfast queue — Gosh, Nikki, that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing today. Is that for Helen?

Nikki may be wearing pink, but her attitude is much tougher than her wardrobe:

Nikki: [to Shell] Enjoying life back on Basic, Dockley? Looks like it.

Shell: I’m gonna be back on three sooner than any of you wankers think.

Nikki: Yeah? Well, us wankers won’t bother holding our breath, all right?

Shell pouts and stomps off. On her way out, she yells, “I’m only down here ’cause of that bitch Lorna Rose.” Nikki mutters “my ass” and saunters over to a table to eat her breakfast.

A wanker, if you’re not familiar with the term, is … um … one who wanks. Wanking is a solitary activity. But the activity doesn’t really have much to do with the insult. Oh, just go read about it on Urban Dictionary.

A morning meeting — Helen and Monica are chatting about Monica’s “home visit,” which will allow her to spend a day with her son. It turns out she’ll have to wait three and a half weeks. Helen says she’ll try to speed up the process, but there’s not much she can do. Monica’s just glad to have something to look forward to.

Monica: It’ll give me a bit longer to finish his jumper.

And even that innocuous little comment gets a warm smile from Helen. See that tongue (again)? They’re sheer torment, these smiles! (A jumper, by the way, is a pullover sweater to us Yanks.)

Spelling lessons — Denny is writing a letter to her mum. It starts out the way every good kid’s letter starts: “How are you? I am OK.” But, as is the case with most things at Larkhall, the innocence is short-lived.

Denny: Is “arseholes” all one word?

Shell: How should I know?

Denny: Just asking.

Shell: What’s it like being as thick as pigs—, Denny?

Denny: Shut it, Shell. I’m thinking.

Apparently Shell would rather demonstrate the word than spell it. She stubs her cigarette out on the letter. Denny asks her why she did it, but Shell can only say, “Dunno, just happened.” I suspect that’s what Shell said when the police asked her about the murder that landed her in the clink.

Monica passes by, so Denny sees her opportunity:

Denny: Oy. Posh bitch. Is “arseholes” one word?

Monica: No, it’s, um, hyphenated. As in arse-licker.

Denny gives Monica a thumbs-up, but then realizes that being “posh” doesn’t preclude being a smartass. Er, smartarse.

A letter from another kid — Julie Saunders — hey, we haven’t seen much of the two Julies lately — is reading a birthday card from her son, David.

Julie J.: Isn’t he a bit previous? Well, I mean, it ain’t your birthday till next month, is it?

Julie S. tries to comfort herself by saying that kids just get eager sometimes, but Julie J. worries that kids just forget their locked-up mum sometimes.

Julie S.: He is clever, though, isn’t he? I mean, I don’t remember doing nothin’ about fermentation in biology when I was at school.

Julie J.: I don’t remember doing nothin’ about biology.

Julie S.: [having a think] Here, hang on a minute, Ju. Read us that bit again. Bit about fermentation.

Hmm. It seems David wasn’t being “previous” at all; he’s giving them some tips about fermentation four weeks ahead of his mum’s birthday because that’s about how long fermentation takes. Oh, my. I sense a project for the two Julies.

The loo — Fenner and Shell are making out. I don’t know how I can sully the phrase “making out” like this. That’s disgusting — they’re in that dirty stall, and Fenner’s kisses are about as appealing as the scuzzy floor.

Shell tells Fenner he can’t have any more kisses until she’s back on G-3. But Fenner pushes back, never one to fold first. He says he doesn’t want to hear “that crap” from her. Especially not in the crapper. Hee. Yeah, the last bit was mine.

Shell: But Jim, you don’t know how upset I get. That bitch Wade queenin’ about on my landing, and I’m stuck down here with these s—.

Well, nobody said you had to hang out by the toilets!

Jim encourages her to behave herself and “be a good little girl guide.” I think I’m the one who needs to be near a toilet, in case I hurl.

Getting some details — Julie S. is on the phone with her son, trying to get the skinny on fermentation. Well, that was one of the shortest scenes I’ve ever seen. But there’s not much point in belaboring the two Julies, is there? Get them in, let them crack a few jokes and get them back off the stage. It’s like vaudeville behind bars.

Visiting time — Monica tells Spencer it’s going to be awhile before she can visit him. He accepts this. He still has a cold, which worries Monica, but she’s maintaining her optimism somehow, which is no small feat in this place.

The library — The two Julies are embarking on their project. Monica shows up just in time to lend a hand.

Julie J.: Monica, are we warm?

Monica: [blankly looking from one Julie to the next] Sorry?

Julie S.: Winemaking.

Julie J.: Books on.

Monica: Oh.

Julie J.: Only we can’t see nothing.

Monica doesn’t suppose the prison authorities are eager to stock the shelves with books on winemaking. So she asks whether she can help. The two Julies, in that funny way they have of trading off parts of each sentence so that everything’s in stereo, tell Monica they just want to help Julie S.’s son do his homework on fermentation.

Monica says she doesn’t know anything about fermentation. She starts to walk away, then says it’s really too bad; when they said “winemaking,” she could have been useful. She used to make quite a bit of wine.

Monica: You know, you can make wine from anything, really. Rice. Potatoes. It doesn’t have to be fruit. Although that’s ideal, because it probably breaks down quicker.

Julie S.: Oh, so maybe four pounds of apples, say.

Monica nods sweetly, then begins to recite ingredients as if she’s just reminiscing about her winemaking days. She’s a crafty one, this posh bitch. Julie S. takes notes as quickly as she can. But then there’s the matter of sterilization and heat and an airing cupboard.

Monica: You weren’t actually thinking of trying to make some in here, were you?

Oh. Maybe she’s not as smart as I thought. Julie S. just gives her a weak look of admission. How funny is it that they’re right under the “religion” shelf sign as they scheme to break the prison commandments?

Meal time — Next thing you know, the Julies are serving everyone apples.

Julie S.: Apple, Denny?

Denny: Piss off, man. Can’t stand ’em. They rot your teeth.

Julie S.: Oh, all the better.

Denny looks around for guards, then turns back to the Julies and hilariously mouths, “Why?”

Thickening the plot — The two Julies ask Nikki, who does quite a bit of gardening, to help them with their little project. She’s reluctant, but they plead with her:

Julie J.: Go on.

Julie S.: It is for us.

Julie J.: You know you love us.

Nikki, you’re cute when you pout and roll your eyes.

Nikki: How’re you gonna keep it the right temperature?

Julie J.: Well, what we thought was, we could take it in turns to come out and hug it.

Nikki: Pardon?

What a couple of kooks you are, Julies. And in your miniskirts and bling and ponytails, you look like girls in women’s bodies. Aw.

Nikki says the wine needs to be kept warm permanently, so the hugging idea won’t work. Suddenly Nikki notices the compost heap. Just as she’s about to point it out to the Julies, Officer Hollamby wanders by. The schemers quickly disperse and plan to reconvene later. But first the two Julies give Nikki some sterilizing tablets they’ve swiped from the mother-and-baby unit. Nikki has to sterilize the watering can so it can serve as a wine cask. This is so complex! I guess criminal minds can be brilliant sometimes.

Out in the yard, Denny spills the beans to the worst possible conspirator:

Denny: I know something you don’t.

Shell: So what?

Denny: The mad twins are brewing up some jungle juice. And I got a share in it, ’cause I gave ’em an apple.

Shell doesn’t respond, so Denny just walks away. Denny, aren’t there dozens of other girls in there who’d make better companions? You know, the sort who don’t stab you in the back? I’m not speaking metaphorically.

But in the next mealtime queue (how many times a day do they eat in this place?), Shell tells the Julies she can get them some yeast. She says she just wants to be invited to the party. The Julies agree, though they look like they want to bite their own tongues off when they do.

The potting shed — Nikki and Julie S. are setting things up: squeezing lemon juice into the watering can, dumping in some sugar and yeast. Nikki’s not thrilled that Shell is now involved, but she goes along with the plan.

Outside, Julie J. is keeping a lookout. She sees Hollamby and taps on the potting shed door to warn Julie S. and Nikki. But Julie J. can’t stop Hollamby — the sour-faced screw pushes past her and opens the potting shed door.

Nikki does the only thing she can think of (and she does seem to think about this a lot when she’s in that shed): She takes off her shirt. When Hollamby opens the door, Julie S. is shirtless too. Julie J. looks downright confused.

Nikki: Oh, please, Miss, you’re not gonna report us, are you, Miss? We were only having a quick feel.

Hollamby says it turns her stomach to see such “disgusting” activities, but she can’t seem to stop staring. Hee. Well done with the quick thinking, Nikki! If only Helen had been the one opening the door. On the other hand, you might have ended up in solitary in that case.

A break in the frivolity — Helen calls Monica to her office. Helen looks pale and stunned, and no wonder: Monica’s son Spencer has died suddenly in his sleep. Monica falls apart, of course, and rejects Helen’s words of support.

Monica: You know nothing about me. You know nothing about my life. None of you. You know nothing.

Helen starts to break too. She and Dominic escort Monica back to her cell. The two Julies see them and think they’ve done something to Monica.

A nurse gives Monica something to help her sleep. Helen stays with Monica until she drifts off. Is it normal for wing governors to cradle inmates and rock them to sleep? I doubt it. I suspect nothing about Helen is normal — and that’s a compliment.

Helen tucks Monica into bed and stays with her a little longer, caressing her forehead. Wow. Well, I guess this show knows how to go from the absurd to the profound in two seconds flat.

Helen has a meeting with the guards to tell them what’s happened. She tells them to keep a close eye on Monica and to grant every reasonable request. Fenner pretends to be concerned. Or maybe he really is concerned; it’s hard to figure out what’s motivating him half the time.

After the meeting, Hollamby, that heartless meanie, complains about the “mollycoddling” and says it’s good for cons to be reminded that crime has consequences. Or something like that. I’m too busy gaping in disbelief, just like Dominic.

Seeking comfort — Where does Helen go when something shakes her up? That’s right: Nikki’s cell. Nikki is sitting on the bed; Helen doesn’t say a word. Nikki looks up and begins to speak as if she’s been waiting for Helen and wouldn’t expect her to be anywhere else right now.

Nikki: They’d never been apart. Not once in 30 years.

Helen: I know. I know, I know everything that you’re gonna say. And I agree. You’re gonna tell me that Spencer was serving a sentence too; now he’s dead because of it. I know that. I do know.

Nikki: How can you do it? How can you go home at night knowing that that woman is banged up in a little brick box miles from her son’s body? I mean, what the s— kind of torture do you think she’s going through?

Helen: I know what she’s going through. That’s why I’ve come to see you: to ask you to be a good friend to her, because she needs one just now. All right?

Nikki: [sharply] You amaze me.

Helen: I didn’t come here for a debate.

What did you come here for, Helen? Hmm? Helen tries to make a graceful exit, but Nikki screams after her as she leaves: “You’re full of s—. You’re like all the others. You pretend you’re not, but you are.”

Helen walks on steadily as if she’s determined not to let it get to her, but I think it kinda does.

By the way, did Nikki’s accent change about four times during that little exchange, or was it my imagination?

Monica’s cell — Monica wakes up. She doesn’t look even a little bit rested. She picks up the jumper she was knitting for Spencer and sobs into it.

Helen’s flat — Sean and Helen are sitting at opposite ends of the couch, and Helen looks like she wants to get as far away from him as she can. Sean is speculating about how his parents will react to the news of his impending nuptials. It seems they’d planned to visit Sean’s parents on Saturday, but Helen can’t make it. She has to escort Monica to her son’s funeral.

Sean: Well, can’t someone else go?

Helen: I want to go. It’s someone that I let down really badly.

Sean: But you don’t mind letting me down.

Oh, my God. Could you be more selfish?

Helen: Look, just say that I’m useless and badly organized and that I’ve got s— for brains.

And perfection for a face, but that’s another story.

Yet another meal queue — The two Julies are sad for Monica. Shell tells a story about a dog that died. It seems sincere and touching at first, but then she says, “I never should have stuck a firework up its ass.” Ugh.

Monica’s cell — Nikki tries to comfort Monica, who’s just clinging to that jumper. Nikki encourages her to cry, but Monica is just too numb. Julie J. stops by and tells Monica they’ve decided to have a wake tomorrow. They’ll crack open the “Chateau Larkhall” in honor of Spencer.

Julie J.: We all love you, Monica. And we want you to know that we care.

I’m not even sure Monica’s registering any of it. Nikki follows Julie J. out.

Making a deal with the devil — The two Julies ask Fenner whether they can have a wake in their cell — just a few girls with tea and biscuits. They’re sweet and eager, so he agrees.

Fenner: But Julies, no funny business. Or there’ll be consequences.

I can’t imagine a worse consequence than having to see his face every day.

An apology — Nikki’s on her way back to Monica’s cell. She’s taking her some flowers she picked from the garden. But there’s a little roadblock on the way: Helen.

Helen: How is she?

Nikki: Still not speaking. [pause] I’m sorry about the other day, the way I spoke to you.

Helen: [nods and sighs]

Nikki: I’m taking her some flowers.

Helen: That’s nice.

Nikki: Well, if I’m allowed to.

Helen: What do you mean?

Nikki: Flowers. Usually they’re banned from cells, aren’t they?

Helen: [scolding] Nikki.

The way Helen says “Nikki” is quite telling; she’s somehow both exasperated and indulgent. Careful, Helen — this is getting tricky.

As if she weren’t a mere three feet away, Hollamby stops Nikki and asks her where she’s going with those flowers.

Nikki: I’ve got permission. From the governor. [getting in Hollamby’s face] So you know what you can do, don’t you?

I guess she does, because she doesn’t say a word.

Still spreading the news — Denny tells Shell they’re “opening the hooch tonight” after the funeral. Denny, must you? Shell just says, “That’s nice,” but she has a suspicious look on her face.

The funeral — As they get in the car to go to the funeral, Helen apologizes to Monica. She takes out a pair of handcuffs and cuffs herself to Monica. Sigh.

At the funeral, Monica’s sister asks whether the cuffs are really necessary. Helen just looks sad as she walks with Monica behind the casket. Once the service begins, Helen quietly removes the cuffs. She meets Monica’s eyes and gives her the slightest of smiles.

The casket is lowered into the ground. As everyone files past it, Monica wails and throws herself onto it. Helen waits and cries.

Shell the tattletale — Shell asks Fenner whether some “information” might help her get back to G-3. Fenner says it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Shell: Nikki Wade is making alcohol. And I know where she’s got it stashed.

She saunters out. Shell, you just really, really suck. Next thing you know, Fenner and Nikki are facing off outside the potting shed.

Fenner: Right, Nikki. There’s two ways we can do this. Either you tell me where it is, or I pull the place apart.

Nikki: Do I know what you’re talking about?

Fenner: There’s nothing I don’t get to hear about. You should know that by now.

Nikki: Sorry. Still not with you.

Fenner: A little bird told me you’d gone into the brewing business. I said to meself, nah, Nikki wouldn’t be so stupid, not now she’s got herself on Enhanced.

Nikki: And what little bird would that be, eh? Dockley?

Fenner refuses to answer that question, of course, and just proceeds to tear up the potting shed. Nikki just smokes a cigarette and smiles at the compost heap, where the wine is bubbling under a tarp.

Moments later, Fenner has found nothing and is just irritated. Nikki says she’s “much obliged” and warns Fenner that his little bird is “taking the piss.” There’s yet another British expression that doesn’t quite translate: It means “pulling your leg,” essentially. Think of it as “deflating one’s ego.” Make of that what you will.

Fenner finds Shell and gets all red-faced as he shouts at her for making a fool of him. Eek. That is not a pretty sight.

He tells Shell she’s never going back on Enhanced. Even I know you should never say “never” to Shell.

Reaping what they’ve sown — Nikki ties the watering can to a rope the Julies have thrown down from their window. Julie J. pulls it up, but it won’t fit through the bars. Julie S. gets the bright idea to tip the watering can and pour the stuff through the bars into cups.

Julie S.: What’s it look like?

Julie J.: Like s—.

Julie S.: What’s it taste like?

Julie J.: [swilling, then grimacing] Fantastic!

Still another meal queue — Nikki tells the Julies about her visit from Fenner and that she’s sure it’s all thanks to Shell. The Julies say Shell wouldn’t do that; after all, she provided the yeast. Shell overhears and denies everything.

Nikki: You’re losing your grip, Dockley.

Shell: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Nikki: You wanna get your facts straight next time.

Nikki just stares her down. Shell looks away nervously.

Nikki tells the Julies she’s not planning to go to the wake. They protest, but she’s in no mood.

The two Julies’ cell — Shell, Denny, the Julies, Crystal and a couple of random inmates are drinking the foul “wine.”

Shell: That is dis-bleeding-sgusting.

Heh. But I’m not laughing at the sight of Shell and Denny, all cuddled up. It’s just weird.

The Julies tell them all to hold their noses as they swallow. So they all raise their cups again, and it goes down much more smoothly. Shell sings a song in honor of Spencer: “I Will Always Love You.” Um. Huh? In her cell, Nikki rolls her eyes.

Monica and Helen are back from the funeral. They march slowly and silently up the stairs — clearly the wake isn’t really for Monica or for Spencer.

Hollamby and Dominic hear the laughter coming from the Julies’ cell and wonder what sort of wake is so hilarious. They decide to investigate. Luckily, Denny hears them coming, so everyone dumps their hooch and pretends to be praying. Denny hiccups, which makes Hollamby suspicious, but all she can do is scowl.

Wow. I guess sometimes faces really do get stuck!

A rough day — Helen reminds Monica that she still has her appeal to look forward to. Monica figures she might as well stay in Larkhall and rot.

As the “wake” ends and the prison goes to bed for the night, Helen passes Nikki’s cell. She hears Nikki calling out for Monica, so she stops. She and Nikki speak softly to each other through the cell door.

Helen: Nikki, I think she needs some time on her own.

Nikki: What, in here? She’ll be lucky.

Helen: I think I do as well.

Nikki: You’ve got Sean to go home to.

Helen: Yeah. Good night, Nikki.

Nikki: Night, Helen.

As usual, their faces say a lot more than their words do.

After a moment more, Helen turns away and leaves. On her way out, she passes Hollamby.

Helen: Night, Sylvia.

Hollamby: Night, ma’am.

Helen: Helen.

Hollamby doesn’t hear her. I think Nikki’s the only one who’s listening to you now, Helen.

Monica’s cell — Monica holds a picture of Spencer and sings a lullaby. Night falls hard at Larkhall.

NEXT TIME ON BAD GIRLS: Helen feels more and more confused; the inmates clash over drugs and God.

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