[After Gene questions Alex's insistence on warning prostitutes of a killer on the loose]
The skeleton in the closet. Private education, years at Oxbridge, all counted for nothing really, because I, Alex Drake, was once a prostitute.
Bloody hell!
[chuckles] I knew it!
There, I've said it.
[chortles] Christ on a bike!
That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.
You're telling me you lied to get onto the force?
No, actually. What I just told you was a lie. I did it to show you how your preconceptions can inform your judgements about other people, especially prostitutes. Sorry.
You know, sometime I hate you, Drake.
[chuckles] So I'm not what you'd expect a prostitute to be? If I said I'd been raped, you'd believe me but not someone like Trixie, not a woman like that?
No, not hate, despise.
Alright, so I'm not a hooker. But if I was, do you know something, Gene? You could never, ever afford me!
You know, you might talk with a plum in your gob, love, but I would rather go with one of them [gestures to a number of prostitutes in the background] than waste my money on some bitter, twisted, messed-up, clenched-arsed, toffee-nosed bitch like you! [Alex slaps him] You feel better now?
No. [she punches Gene in the mouth] Better now. [to an astounded Chris and Ray] Come on, ladies, what are you waiting for!? Let's get pissed!
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