That's 'ow it started. Trying to show 'im. In the lift in that memory flood.

[It's as though she shrinks, physically and dramatically. Iris is a small woman, but she habitually carries herself largely; when she crumples inwards, her face falling into her hands, it's a startling contrast. When she speaks again, her voice is thick with tears.]

I tried and I've done nowt but make it worse. I should step right back and leave 'im alone, and I don't want to and honestly, neither does 'e. We're both a bit stupid that way. I wish shooting me 'ad 'elped. I wish doing it again would 'elp. 'As 'e talked to you about it, at all?