Synopsis: Grief, guilt, and betrayal. In North London, a young mother dotes on her four-year-old son and lives in a modest flat with her husband, a cop in the bomb squad. The Arsenal football team is their religion. On May Day, a major terrorist attack brings tragedy while she is in the arms of a rich reporter who lives over the road. She wishes she were dead. In grief and guilt, she pursues revenge, faces betrayal, experiences delusions, and may be suicidal. Two men seek her affection: the reporter and a colleague of her husband's who imagines caravan camping with her on a beach. In London, the city of the Great Fire and of Hitler's bombardment, is there any way back to life for her?
Director(s): Sharon Maguire
Production: Capitol Films
Rotten Tomatoes:
96 min

Five, four, three, two, one.


Mummy, you blinked. I won.

Yes, you did. Now, in you get.

Tomorrow we're going to the seaside.

(Sizzling and cracking)

(Waves breaking)


(Woman) 'So, if I'm going to show

you my life, I better start here.

'My boy and Camber Sands.

'Why this and why now?

I'll come back to that.'


(Woman) 'A force of nature,

the midwife called him,

'when he came howling

into this world four years ago.

'And he hasn't stopped since.'


'Me and him spent a lot of time together

cos his dad is a right miserable bugger.

'To be fair, he wasn't always miserable.

'Or, maybe he was and

I just didn't see it.

'I wouldn't be the first woman

in my family

'to have her knickers charmed off her

by some fella in the army.

'Anyway, for better or worse,

'I got my boy and he got me.'



'I remember my mum took me

to Camber Sands once.

'The one day she was sober.

'It was drizzling then, too."Gets you

out of the house, don't it?" she said.

- Knock, knock!

- Who's there?

- I done a...

- I done a who?

You done a poo-poo!

'And that quiet rain fell all the way home.

'My gran told me that Adolf Hitler did us

a favour when he bombed London.

'His incendiary bombs made the hole

in Barnet Grove

'that they built our tower blocks in,

'and London burned

with incredible noise and fury.

"'It's on account of Adolf," she said,

"'that we get a nice a view

of the Georgian side of the street

"'where the bombs missed."'

Mummy! I'm running.

I'm running really fast!

- You can't catch me.

- (Woman) Careful!

If you think I can't see you in there,

you're mad.

'We bought our flat off the council.

'Smells of chip fat, but Lenny says

it'll be a good investment one day,

'cos it's within a stone's throw

of the City.

'Third generation

of tower block dwellers, we are.

'If you're interested,

just type in chav, pikey or ned,

'and you'll find us in council estates

all over London.

'Favourite food:
chicken Kiev.

Favourite TV programme: "Top Gear".'

Ah... got you!

Arsenal Football Club.'

Right, wait, wait and... go!

Mummy, get him out now. Mr Rabbit

doesn't like going in the dizzy machine.

Mummy, get him out now!

Right. There you go.

That's better.

(Phone rings)


(Man) 'Your mum's in a spot of bother.

She needs some help.'

You mean she's arseholed and you're

the one she's got to call me for money?

She only ever calls

if she wants money for booze.

I don't want to appear rude,

but I need to keep this phone free. Bye.

- Is Granny arseholed again?

- What kind of language is that, hey?

(TV) 'And now the news at 6:00 with

George Alagiah and Sophie Raworth.

This is the news with me, George

Alagiah and me, Sophie Raworth.

Mummy, you blinked. I won.

Yes, you did. Now, in you get.

Mr Rabbit doesn't like going

in the dizzy machine.

Yeah, but we have to keep him

nice and clean, don't we?

He said he doesn't mind being dirty.

Oh, he told you that, did he?

And he said, you can come in here

if you're scared tonight.

Thank you, precious.

Mummy's not scared.


(Door opens)

(Sighs heavily)

(Door closes)

Everything go OK?

Still here, aren't I?

(TV on in background)

(Engine idling)

(Girl cackles)

# 1-0 to the Arsenal!

# 1-0 to the Arsenal!

# 1-0 to the Arsenal... #

(Man) Cheers.


(Pulsating dance music

and muffled shouting)

I'm going to kill those bastards.

Drinking and shouting all hours.

I mean, there's families in these flats.

For Christ's sake!

I'll check he's OK.

(Phone rings)

(Door opens and closes)

(Muffled music and cheering)

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Chris Cleave

Chris Cleave (born 1973) is a British writer and journalist. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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    "Incendiary" STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 14 Jun 2021. <>.

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