

Teacher Jackie Ellis is not the woman she used to be. Now in her 40s, the tragic death of her niece Nessa saw Jackie have a breakdown. She then quit her life as a detective and took up teaching – but she’s never truly been able to get over her failure to catch Nessa’s killer.
Strong-willed and compassionate, Jackie’s life is upturned once again when she discovers the body of nine-year-old Cefin, one of her pupils. Carrying a deep sense of guilt for not being able to protect either him or Nessa, the arrival of her former detective partner DS Bull triggers her and she is drawn into the case.
As an ear-on-the-ground when it comes to this tight-knit and literally closed-off community, Jackie’s help is crucial for Bull, and finding justice for Cefin could hold the key to her putting her past to bed once and for all.
Speaking ahead of the series launch, Kelly Reilly talks about Jackie’s journey throughout the show, what it was like teaming up with old friend Rafe Spall, and why she couldn’t resist taking on this story.
How would you describe the show to friends and family?
I would say it’s a crime drama, set in a fictional town called Morfa Halen in North Wales. It’s a close-knit, working-class community where everybody knows everybody. It’s a very beautiful place that is under threat, and some tragedies occur in their community.
Can you tell us about your character, Jackie Ellis?
Jackie was a detective until about two and a half years before the story begins. After a traumatic case involving the disappearance of her niece, Nessa, she left the force and became a schoolteacher.
Ideally, someone so personally connected wouldn’t lead such a case, but Jackie is strong-willed and believed her bond with Nessa would help. She was determined to find her, but the case remained unsolved, leaving the community and Jackie in a state of purgatory without any closure.
Where do we find Jackie at the start of the series?
She’s rebuilt her life as a primary school teacher, but she’s still deeply affected. She doesn’t sleep well, keeps to herself, and hides a secret relationship. Then she discovers the body of a child she teaches — someone she really does care about.
It’s like reliving the trauma all over again. Though no longer a detective, her instincts and knowledge of the community pull her back in.
What makes Under Salt Marsh stand out in the genre?
While it’s a crime drama, it’s also a character study. It explores how trauma and guilt shape someone. I hope it takes viewers on an emotional journey, making them reflect on how they’d cope if something similar happened in their own community.
What drew you to the script?
I hadn’t read anything quite like it. It felt unique — haunted, heightened, and mythological. Filming in North Wales, where nature is a constant presence, adds to the atmosphere. The storm, the landscape — it’s gritty, but it’s also beautiful. I was drawn to the question: how does someone survive such loss? How does she keep going?
What drives Jackie’s determination?
I think because it was so personal. She loved Nessa, her niece, and couldn’t solve the case. That unresolved pain keeps her awake at night.
I researched unsolved cases and the PTSD detectives face. Jackie can’t move forward until she finds answers — not just for the new case, but for Nessa.
What’s her relationship with Bull like now?
There’s deep resentment and betrayal. Bull was her partner and subordinate, and now he’s leading the new case. Jackie believes he mishandled the past investigation.
Seeing him again reopens old wounds, but she insists on helping — she knows the community and its secrets. Her involvement risks another psychological spiral, but she can’t let go.
How has it been working with Rafe Spall (Bull)?
Rafe and I have a wonderful history. We’ve done a play and a TV show together. He’s just got an ease about him. He’s got dexterity and a charm and charisma, and a confidence that I think Bull needed. But off-screen, we love talking about acting, about theatre and music.
There are definitely moments when we’re doing horrible, difficult scenes and the next minute we can find levity offscreen together, which helps when filming intense material like this.
What’s the wider cast experience been like?
It’s such a wonderful ensemble. To come back to the UK and work with British actors has been a joy – it’s so beautiful to watch. Jonathan Pryce is one of the greats, and Harry Lawtey, who plays Dylan, is incredibly talented.
Everyone brings passion, even in tough conditions — filming in North Wales through winter was intense, out in the wilds and winds and rain, but the commitment was inspiring.
Tell us about Jackie’s relationship with Dylan.
Dylan represents a healthier chapter in Jackie’s life. She loves him but doesn’t see it as long-term. She’s older and doesn’t dream of marriage or children. Their relationship surprises her — he’s youthful, kind, and sees the world simply, which contrasts with Jackie’s complexity.
She’s also secretly pregnant and hasn’t told anyone, not even Dylan. She’s terrified — unsure if she can protect this child, but by the end of the series, she begins to embrace the hope it brings.
What does Jackie’s connection to the community look like?
She deeply cares about Morfa Halen and its people — Danny and Shell, Osian the eccentric activist, Jimmy the Chippy. Before Nessa’s disappearance, Jackie was a pillar of the community. Her fall from grace makes her journey even more compelling.
The show suggests the perpetrator is from the community. How does that affect Jackie?
It’s central to the story. The theme of protecting your own runs deep, but Jackie refuses to look away. She’s willing to confront uncomfortable truths, even when others want to pretend everything’s fine.
What can you tell us about Morfa Halen?
It’s fictional but inspired by real rural communities in coastal towns across Wales, threatened by climate change and flooding. We filmed on location, which added authenticity. The environment is a character in itself — reflecting Jackie’s emotional state and the fragility of the community.
What role does water, the storm and the impending rising sea levels play?
Water is symbolic — rising tides, washed-away evidence, the feeling of helplessness. The environmental message is present but not preachy. It’s up to the audience to interpret, but it’s undeniably part of the story’s urgency.