Fiona screams at the kid pawns, now, to tell Dave that he's "just being silly." As Dave says goodbye to the kids, she climbs all over him like a snotty wet jungle gym. "You haven't been listening! I'm not having a go, I'm not. I love you! Love's the most important thing! Jesus said so! I love you!" He watches her climb around on the car, looking vile. "And you love me! You might not know it, but you do! We can go find Steven, he'll tell you! He knows everything." He begins to pull away.
"I forgive you, Dave!" Fiona wails. "I forgive you! That makes it all right! I forgive you!" Dave pulls into the road. Fiona: "You've got to love me! You've got to love me, because if you don't love me, it...doesnât say! It doesn't say what happens! It doesn't say what happens if I'm not loved!" Tail lights. And I'll tell you, that's when it kicked in. That shit is a cold shower on your superiority. Because it doesn't say, and the world conspired to tell her that it mattered. That it was all that mattered. Dave's having an affair? Well, at least he stays in the marriage. At least I'm loved. The only thing that matters: somebody proving that you're worthy of love. If you buy TV you can't be blamed for thinking that's true. That it proves you exist. Especially if you're weak and a little stupid, like old Fiona. It hurts. She finally said enough out loud that it's too much. God promised her an answer and then handed her Judgment. Bait and switch. Dave promised her Eastenders and handed her Coronation Street. She's the point: somebody who let everybody else do all the heavy lifting because nobody ever told her she was allowed to do it herself.
Fiona's pathetic, running down the street behind the car. "I love you, Dave! I love you! I forgive you!" He turns the corner, disappears. "What happens to me?" she screams, in the coming storm. "What happens to me?" Thunder sounds. She stares after him, and considers the question for real. Oh, Fiona. Her religion was so offensive that I didn't stop to think about all the other lies she must have bought. What happens to Fiona?
"I didn't ask for all this." Jude needles Steve: "Why me?" With everything ending around them, big world and small Fiona. Assholes. Steve protests that he didn't ask for it, and she grabs him by the Trinitarian Doctrine: "Nice try, but if you're the Almighty it's all your idea." He...begins to slap his own head. Over and over. Augh. "What's the point? What's it for? I can't work out what's happening!" Jesus weeps. Judas hands him a Kleenex. Steve tries once more to explain the enormity of creation, fifty million megabytes of information in a pocket calendar. "Is that stupid?" She says it is. I say it's the Bad Wolf, and am therefore in love with it. They look at each other, so small. "You can't make sense of this, no one can," says Jude. And proceeds to explain the entire movie to you, from an angle you can't see yet. "You're stuck in your own system, trying to impose good and evil on the world -- right and wrong -- and it's so much...more complicated than that." That's the power of Jude, living in a Jude world. "What should I do?" he asks, raggedly, and she laughs. "It's like in school. You spent two years fancying Kathy Jones, and sitting next to me instead. 'What should I do, Jude?'" Dude, you wanna talk about pet peeves, that's the king. Don't come to me to yank on and on about yourself under the guise of asking for advice. Did anybody ever ask anybody else about their love life without it being a flimsy as fuck pretense for ongoing wankery and the ugly agendas underneath? He smiles bashfully, and in that second he becomes just a teenage boy. Just Steve Baxter, virgin. "Never liked her that much. I only went on about her so I could you know sort of...um." What's adorable is that he thinks this is a total secret. "So you could what?" she says, and I can't believe that she doesn't start laughing. I know I would. Have. "You know...spend time with you." Jude smiles but it's sweet; Steve's facing away from her now. "Worked that out years ago," she grins softly, and he turns around with a quickness, jaw dropped, because boys are stupid. "Finally, you've got something to say..." she razzes him, "...and it's too late."