(KETTLE BOILING)
(SWITCHES OFF)
(TEASPOON CLINKS)
(TEAPOT LID CLANGS ON TEAPOT)
(TEA POURED)
(CUTLERY DRAWER OPENS, CUTLERY CLINKS)
(CUTLERY DRAWER CLOSES)
(SPOON CLANGS IN TEAPOT)
RAYMOND BRIGGS: There was nothing extraordinary about my mum and dad.
Nothing dramatic.
No divorce or anything.
But they were my parents, and I wanted to remember them by doing a picture book.
It's a bit odd, really, having a book about my parents
up there in the bestseller list among all the football heroes and cookbooks.
They'd be proud of that, I suppose.
But probably rather embarrassed, too.
I imagine they would say, "It wasn't like that."
Or, "How can you talk about that?"
Well, I have…
And this is their story.
(BUS BELL RINGS)
(HORSE WHINNIES)
(LOW CHATTER)
Bye, Mum.
Bye, dear.
Ta-ta, Ern, mate.
Ta-ta.
Ta-ta!
LADY: Hurry up with that dusting, Ethel.
There's the fire to stoke and the beds to make.
Yes, madam. I won't be long.
(BICYCLE BELL RINGS)
(RINGS AGAIN)
(GASPS)
(CHUCKLES)
LADY: Ethel, aren't you finished yet?
Yes, madam.
Sorry, madam.
Hey-hey.
Ooh…
LADY: Ethel… where are you?
Coming, madam.
(RUMBLE OF THUNDER)
Oh.
LADY: Ethel?
Ethel!
- Ethel! - (GASPS) Oh.
Yes, yes. I'm coming.
Hello, duck.
Oh. Oh, it's you.
Thought I'd introduce myself.
You've waved that blooming duster at me enough times.
Well, no, I didn't mean to. It was just that erm…
Name's Ernest.
Oh. I'm Ethel.
That's a nice name. Well, Ethel, how about coming to the pictures with me?
Oh… Well, I erm…
They've got lots for me to do.
- What time you knock off? - I finish about seven.
Perfect. They're showing Hangman's House at the local.
- You mean, the Coronation? - Yes.
- Starts at eight. I can meet you there. - Thank you.
That… That would be very nice.
Grand.
And these… they're for you.
Oh…
They're… lovely.
See you about quarter to, then.
Yes. Yes, I'll be there.
Oh. (SNIFFS)
Ernest.
(CHATTER)
- Next. - Two, please.
(LIVELY ORGAN MUSIC)
- Victor McLaglen. - Who's he?
- Him up there. - Oh.
My favourite.
Oh.
♪ CARL DAVIS: Walking In The Park With Eloise
- Oh, thank you. - (LAUGHTER)
Oh!
Oh, Ernest, doesn't it sound wonderful?
Cor blimey, Et, five shillings to get in.
A bit posh, if you ask me.
Tell you what, it's under a shilling at our church hall next Saturday.
- Are you on? - Oh, Ernest.
(BIRDSONG)
(SNIFFS) Lovely flowers, darling.
Oh, that's Dad. He's potty about the garden.
- Did you all grow up here? - Yes. 11 of us.
Bob, Beaty, Mag, Edie, me, Frank, Flo, Jessie, George, Joe and Bill.
- Cor blimey. - (SHE CHUCKLES)
Come and meet Mum and Dad.
Ernest, your tie. Wanna make a good impression.
Oh, yes, darling.
George was killed in the war.
Bob died as a baby. And Beaty died at two and a half.
Poor little kiddies.
Mm.
Hello, dear.
Mum, this is Ernest.
Very pleased to meet you er… Mrs Bowyer.
You haven't asked me to your home yet, dear.
Yeah, well, it's not as nice as yours, darling.
- What do you mean, not as nice? - Well…
The scrap iron, rag-and-bone men.
There's fights outside the pubs. Women, too.
The coppers won't go down there.
Last one that did go, they bashed him up,
then sat on him and blew his whistle to fetch more coppers.
Oh, Ernest.
It's not your cup of tea, darling.
Am I to understand that you wish to leave us?
Yes, madam.
To get married?
Yes, madam.
To a man?
Yes, madam.
Well…
I hope you know what you're doing.
Ever so sorry, madam.
(DOOR CREAKS)
Give us your box, darling.
Oh! I don't like leaving them.
They're so helpless.
- They can't do a thing for themselves. - Hm.
Serve 'em right.
- Bloated plutocrats. - There's no need to swear, Ernest.
What?
Don't worry about them. They'll soon get another skivvy.
I was not a skivvy!
I was a lady's maid.
And what's more… I'm going to be married.
So am I!
(BOTH LAUGH)
Oh, it's lovely.
But £825? Can we afford that mortgage business?
Yes, easy. I'll be getting three guineas a week soon.
Besides, we've got 25 years.
19… 55, it'll be ours.
A wrought-iron gate, Your Ladyship.
(SHE LAUGHS)
Silly.
Oh, and look, Ernest. A marble pillar.
♪ BERT LOWN ORCHESTRA WITH ELMER FELDKAMP: Now You're In My Arms
Ho-ho! Look at this.
Oh.
Oh, Ernest. There's so much space.
We could get those electric lights put in.
Yeah, nice and modern. Brother Fred's got a wireless. He can hear Germany.
Whatever would you want to hear Germany for?
Oh!
A French window.
Oh, Ernest. There's a bathroom!
Blimey. A lav, too.
Yeah, come along, Ernest.
- (TOILET FLUSHES) - Hm.
Hah!
Enormous bedroom.
Four windows in one room.
Well, it'll cost a fortune for curtains.
Bit different to home, eh, darling?
Lots of rooms for two people.
Perhaps there'll be more than two one day.
What? Lodgers you mean?
No. (GIGGLES)
This could be our baby's room.
Nice and warm over the kitchen.
Must get rid of this old range.
Cor, and this boiler. Came out of the ark.
♪ I found your hand when I touched a moonbeam
♪ And now you're in…
- Hello, puss. - (MEOWS)
(ETHEL CHUCKLES)
A fair bit of garden. More than down home.
Oh, I've always wanted my own bit of garden.
Good little shed for my bike and workshop.
Yeah, mind you keep it tidy.
Don't you start bossing me about before we get married. Ha-ha-ha!
Oh, Ernest, I can't believe it.
We'll have a kitchen and a scullery.
- A sitting room and a dining room. - A garden and a shed.
- Don't forget the hall. - And the bathroom.
- Luxury! - Oh! Ha-ha-ha-ha!
(BOTH LAUGH)
(CHURCH BELLS RINGING)
That's it. Hold your… Hold your hat there, if you could.
That's it, lovely. That's it, Mrs Briggs, lovely. Very nice. Now, hold there.
- Hold it there. Big smiles. - (CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)
- We'll have one more of those. - Ern, let's see a kiss for the bride.
Go on, Ern.
(CHEERING AND LAUGHTER)
Yeah, one more. One more, please, everybody.
♪ AL BOWLY WITH LEW STONE AND HIS BAND: What A Little Moonlight Can Do
♪ What a little moonlight can do-o-o
Isn't the bedroom huge?
We'll need some cases under the bed for our clothes.
- A wardrobe, Ernest. - Oh. Oh, yes. Course.
(CHEERFUL WHISTLING)
Ha-ha-ha!
Good morning, madam. How many today, please?
Just you keep off my clean step, young man.
- (CHUCKLES) - Oh! (LAUGHS)
Oh, Ernest.
I got a round that finishes down our road, Et.
- That's nice, dear. - I should be done about 12.
Then I can get going on that old range.
(GRUNTS)
I'll be glad to see the back of that thing.
(STRAINS)
It's a pig, duck.
One of those nice new gas cookers, that's what we need.
Careful, Ernest!
Whoa-ho!
♪ Any old iron, any old iron, any, any, any old iron?
♪ You look neat, talk about a treat
♪ You look dapper from your napper to your feet
Ernest, don't sing those dreadful cockney songs.
♪ Dressed in style, brand-new tile
♪ And your father's old green tie on
♪ But I wouldn't give you tuppence for your old watch chain
♪ Old iron, old iron
♪ Da-da-le-da-da, all right
Yay! (LAUGHS)
- Oh! (COUGHS) ERNEST: That's done the job.
(STRAINING)
That's it. Smashing bed.
Nearly new. Mahogany… I think.
Good springs, look. Newly-weds need good springs.
- Come and try it out, darling. - Certainly not, Ernest.
It's broad daylight.
Ha-ha-ha!
I've finished the new draining board, darling.
- Oh, lovely. - It fits over the edge.
Removable for cleaning.
What with that and the new cooker…
ERNEST: We're in clover!
There. Bang-on. (CHUCKLES)
Cor. It says here, over two million unemployed.
I'm lucky to be a milkman, Et.
I hate coal under the stairs.
Coal dust gets everywhere, and it's so common.
Oh. I'll build a brick bunker in the garden, then.
That'll be lovely.
What you reckon, Et? Ho-ho!
Oh, Ernest, it's far too big.
I'll make some nice loose covers.
Came out of a posh hotel. A bargain.
I've made a curtain for under the tank. It'll hide the pipes.
I'll keep my outdoor clothes there. The pipes will dry them off.
Oh, but your coats smell of stale milk, Ernest.
Yeah, sorry.
Do you think you'll ever be promoted?
No blooming fear. Not me.
Yard foreman? Stuck in a tin shed all day, adding up rows of figures?
Blow that for a lark. I like the fresh air.
I could have married… a deep sea diver.
Well, why didn't you?
Because… I didn't love him.
Why do you keep that picture of a baby on the wall?
- Why do you think? - Well, it's not a relative, is it?
We've been married over two years.
I'll soon be 37. (SOBS)
Oh…
Hey.
Don't cry.
- I'm sorry. - Ohh.
- (SOBS) - Shush, shush, shush.
I know. I know.
Evening Standard!
Late news! Late news!
Hitler wins power in Germany.
- Here you are, Reg. - Ta, Ern.
Evening Standard!
- Cor blimey. - Late news. Hitler wins power in Germany!
This bloke, Adolf Hitler…
It says they're publishing his book over here. Mein Kampf, it's called.
Oh!
That's nice of him.
Huh?
(GRUNTING)
Et!
- Surprise, dear. - Oh.
New mirror.
It's lovely. How ever did you get it home?
I walked it back on my bike pedal.
- How much was it? - Only half a dollar.
I got it off a diddicoy down home.
I've got a surprise for you, too.
- Oh, yes? - I've been to, um…
the doctor.
Oh. And?
- You mean…? - Mm.
- We're er… - Yeah.
We're going to…
Yippee!
- I can't believe it. - Oh, Et!
(BOTH LAUGH)
♪ AMBROSE AND HIS ORCHESTRA: Blue Skies Are Around The Corner
- Happy birthday, darling. - Oh, Ernest.
And your cards, they get bigger every year.
This one's all padded. (LAUGHS)
But my best present isn't due until January.
- (CHUCKLES) More tea, Et? - Mm.
♪ Won't you feel happy to be
♪ Sharing the sunshine with me
(ETHEL CRIES OUT IN PAIN)
DOCTOR: One more push, Mrs Briggs.
Ahh!
- Very good. - Goodness gracious me. What a fuss.
You'll wake the neighbours, so you will.
(CHEERFUL WHISTLING)
Oh, my God!
Et!
Wait!
(PANTING)
Steady now, Mr Briggs.
You will surely not be bringing those bottles into the birth room.
Sorry, miss… madam… nurse.
- Is she…? - It's a boy.
- Is she…? - The mother is well.
Oh, thank God for that.
DOCTOR: Get as much rest as you can now, Mrs Briggs.
- Baby is doing fine. - Thank you, Doctor.
Hello, Doctor. Et?
Oh, Ernest.
Aw.
- When was it? - About five.
I was just doing Ashen Grove.
I nearly ran out of sterilised.
How do you feel? You… You look done in.
Tired.
It's all red.
He! It's a "he".
- Oh, yes. - Ahem.
Mr Briggs… a word.
Yes, Doctor.
- It was touch-and-go. - Oh?
Your wife is 38.
There had better not be any more.
But we wanted a proper family.
More children, no more wife. I'm sorry.
Good day to you.
(BABY CRIES)
(MUSIC ON WIRELESS)
Right a bit, Et. Don't want the nappies in the picture.
That's it.
Hold it.
I don't have to tell you to smile. (CHUCKLES)
(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)
This MP's pleading that working-class flats should be built with bathrooms.
Labour MP, of course.
They always say if you give the working class a bath, they'd keep the coal in it.
Oh, yeah? I haven't noticed much coal in our bath.
Ernest! We are not working class.
- Huh! - (DOORBELL RINGS)
Oh, it's you.
- Hello, Et. I've come to see the baby. - Mm.
- Come in. - Oh, how are you, ducks?
Ernest, it's your stepmother.
Again.
Hello, Mum.
I brought you a couple of bottles of stout.
And some coal.
- Thanks. - Thanks, Mum. No need.
Now, where's my little boy?
Oh, ain't he grown?
ANNOUNCER ON WIRELESS: This is the BBC in London. There now follows the news.
NEWSREADER: German Chancellor, Adolf Hitler, announced today new laws
that will forbid Jews remaining as German citizens.
Here, Ern, turn that blessed wireless thing off.
I don't want that man to hear what I'm saying.
Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain said a new meeting's going to be held at…
(WIRELESS OFF)
Here, Et…
Did you know, if you're a Jew in Germany, you're forbidden to marry a German?
Hm.
- I would hate to marry a German. - No…
(SIGHS)
Cor, this gas copper's a real luxury.
Just turn the tap and strike a match. (CHUCKLES)
BBC's gonna start tele-vision later this year.
What's that when it's at home?
Well, it looks like a wireless set with pictures on top of it.
Moving pictures? Talkies?
Yeah.
It'll be like going to the pictures without going out.
What? You just sit and look at it?
- Yeah. - Hm.
I suppose it might be all right for the gentry.
- Ohh! - (BABY CRIES)
Ohh!
(BABY CRIES)
Let's see that nappy, then.
- Ooh! - (BABY CRIES)
- Another lot of washing. (CHUCKLES) - (COOS)
It says "The average family needs £6 a week to keep it above the poverty line".
- What's the poverty line? - Dunno.
Just wish I earned £6 a week. What with the nipper growing up so fast.
♪ JOE DANIELS AND HIS HOTSHOTS: Tea For Two
RAYMOND: Whee! Ha-ha-ha!
Hey-hey! That's the way to do it, boysie!
- Again! Again! - Oh, Ernest, he's getting such a big boy.
No, he's not. He's skinny, like me.
Wiry, Ernest. And tall.
And lovely hair. All those curls.
Ooh, look, that's new.
They're serving teas in The Balcony.
There's waitresses in aprons and caps.
It looks a bit posh.
- Maybe some other time, eh, dear? RAYMOND: Again!
ETHEL: Yes. Some other time.
(HUMS)
(SOBBING)
Whatever's up, darling?
What are you crying for?
I've had it done.
What? What?!
His hair.
- Eh? - They've cut it all off!
His beautiful curls.
Well, blimey, it's gotta be done, Et.
We can't have him running round like a blooming girl all his life.
He's not a baby any more. He'll be off to school in no time.
I know! (SOBS)
Hello, boysie.
What's wrong with Mum?
(SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY)
Mum! Mum!
Raymond, dear. Shouldn't you be in school?
Mum! Mum!
Whatever are you home for?
You mustn't come home in the middle of the day.
Did you cross that main road? Oh, God, you must have done.
- I can't find the sit down lavatories. - You can't find the…?
We showed you them.
No, they're girls. Girls sit down.
No, there's boys' sitting downs, as well.
No, there isn't. It's all girls.
Oh, look out! I wanna go number twos!
(FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS, DOOR SLAMS)
Nice day again, Mrs Bennet.
Yes, lovely, Mrs Briggs.
(TOILET FLUSHES)
(ADOLF HITLER RANTING ON WIRELESS)
Sounds like that Hitler's on the warpath good and proper.
Mm.
Just hark at them.
- (TURNS WIRELESS OFF) - They're all barmy.
Our George was killed in the last one.
And brother Tom.
It doesn't seem all that long ago.
Our poor old mother never got over it.
(SEAGULLS CRY)
(CHUCKLES)
This television is gonna be on one and a half hours every evening.
Dreadful. It would be like going to the pictures every day.
Blimey. There's a photo here
of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor shaking hands with Hitler.
Ohh! He can't be so bad, then.
What?
Look, Mum.
WIRELESS: The Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, returned from Germany today
and spoke to crowds at Heston Airport with the promise of peace.
CHAMBERLAIN: I had another talk with the German Chancellor, Herr Hitler.
And here is the paper which bears his name upon it, as well as mine.
(CHEERING)
Cor, Et. Old Chamberlain is giving Hitler half of Czechoslovakia.
Oh, yes?
He says it's peace with honour. Peace in our time.
Thank goodness for that. Don't you want that bit of toast, Ernest?
No.
No, thanks, dear.
Evening Standard!
Ta, Ern.
(DOOR CREAKS)
- You there, Et? ETHEL: In here!
Hitler's marched into Prague now. He'll be coming down our road soon.
Adolf Hitler? In Wimbledon Park?
It says here the Government is going to spend £200,000 on air-raid shelters.
Better get ourselves ready.
Oh, not on the table, Ernest.
Cor.
It's gonna be very stuffy with all this blackout up, Ernest.
Not half as stuffy as a gas-proof room would be.
Poison gas! Oh, I hadn't thought of that.
You have to bung up the chimney, tape over the cracks round the doors and windows,
put wet newspapers in between the floorboards. It's a right old barney.
Rarh!
- (GIGGLES) - Oh, Raymond, behave.
This isn't a game, you know.
♪ Underneath the spreading chestnut tree
♪ Mr Chamberlain said to me
♪ If you want your gas mask fitted free
♪ Join the blinking ARP
(GIGGLES)
Read this booklet until you know by heart what it contains.
Ohh!
I wish I had a proper gas mask carrier.
Not a soppy old cardboard box and string.
- It's not fair! - (THUDDING)
(MUFFLED) Oh, dear, Ernest.
Ernest, can you hear me?
ERNEST: No. - I can.
- Be quiet, son. - (GIGGLES)
Can you beat it? IRA bombs in London, Manchester and Birmingham.
- When will it end? - Oh, those Irish.
They're just like the blessed Arabs and Jews. Always at it.
Don't forget the Serbs and Croats. They're just as bad.
Then there's the Hindus and the Moslems.
Why can't they all just be like us and live in peace?
ANNOUNCER ON WIRELESS: We interrupt this broadcast
with an announcement from the Prime Minister in London.
CHAMBERLAIN: I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room at 10 Downing Street.
♪ Underneath the spreading chestnut tree
Shush. It's the Prime Minister.
- … the British Ambassador… ♪ Mr Chamberlain said to me
Shush, dear.
… handed the German Government a final note…
stating that, unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock,
that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland…
a state of war would exist between us.
I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received…
and that consequently, this country is at war with Germany.
(WIRELESS OFF)
Blimey, duck.
This is it.
Mum?
(AIR-RAID SIREN BLARES)
WIRELESS: The Government announced today
that one and a half million children are to be evacuated.
Children living in big cities and towns…
- No. No, they're not taking ours away.
- Course they are. - No, they're not!
Over my dead body!
It'll be over his dead body, then! Is that what you want?
No, Ernest.
Well, that's exactly what will happen. He's got to go.
(SOBBING)
Oh, sorry, darling. Come on.
- Don't cry. - My little baby.
Don't cry, love.
- (SOBBING) - I know, I know.
(STEAM HISSES)
(TRAIN WHISTLE TOOTS)
(ANNOUNCEMENT OVER TANNOY)
(DOG BARKS)
(HUBBUB)
You be a good boy, now, Raymond.
Come on, then.
Up you go, son, that's it.
Bye, son.
- We'll send you some things in the post. - Stand clear now.
I know, I know.
(WHISTLE)
(TRAIN WHISTLE BLARES)
(TRAIN CHUGS)
ERNEST: Bye, son.
(WHIMPERS) He's gone.
He's gone.
Don't cry, darling. He'll be safe down the country.
He's only five. (SOBS)
(TRAIN WHISTLE)
Ernest!
Ernest, it must be from Raymond.
Yes. Yes.
"Dear Mum and Dad. Aunty Flo and Aunty Betty are very nice ladies."
Oh, look, he's done some drawings, too.
"I sleep on a camp bed in Aunty Flo's bedroom."
Oh, poor little mite.
"I get the milk in a can. It is not in bottles, because it is cows."
Milk not in bottles? Blimey.
"I rode on a cart horse's back when we got the hay.
I nearly did the splits. Yours sincerely, Raymond."
"Yours sincerely"!
(BOTH LAUGH)
♪ FLORENCE DESMOND: The Deepest Shelter In Town
♪ I've got a cosy flat
♪ There's a place for your hat
- Mind my antirrhinums, Ernest. ♪ I'll wear a pink chiffon negligee gown
I hope you know what you're doing.
Eh? Course, duck. You just wait.
♪ I've got the deepest shelter in town
That's it. All done.
Is that it? Finished?
- Is it really bomb-proof? - You'll have to wait and see.
♪ And I've got central heat
♪ But to make it complete
♪ I've got the deepest shelter in town
ERNEST: Russia's invaded Finland now.
ETHEL: I thought they'd invaded Poland? - Yes, they have.
ETHEL: But you said Germany's invaded Poland.
Yes, that's right.
Well, who was it invaded Czechoslovakia?
- Germany. - Oh, Germany's always invading someone.
I expect they'll invade Russia one day.
Cor blimey, not likely. They're in league.
- Or Russia will invade Germany. - Oh, don't be daft.
Well, if they all keep invading one another, we'll end up invading someone.
Oh, Et, you just don't understand politics.
- (HISSING) - Oh! Now look.
Blessed shelter.
(BIRDSONG)
Do you think they ever will come down our road, Ernest?
I expect it will be OK.
They say Hitler's assured Holland and Belgium of his friendship.
Oh, that's nice.
What do you think? It's all right, eh?
I thought firemen had those nice brass helmets with curly tops.
Nah. Blokes been getting electrocuted in those.
At last! Churchill's taken over.
- "Blood, toil, tears and sweat." - Ernest!
Don't. Disgusting.
It's your gentry talking. His words, not mine.
Yes, but he was talking to the common people.
He wouldn't use words like that in his own home.
CHURCHILL: What General Weygand has called the Battle of France is over.
The Battle of Britain is about to begin.
Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilisation.
The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us.
Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this island or lose the war.
(AIR-RAID SIRENS)
If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be freed
and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands.
But if we fail, then the whole world,
including the United States,
will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age.
(MORSE CODE BEEPS)
Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties,
and so bear ourselves,
that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth
last for a thousand years, men will still say:
"This was their finest hour."
♪ JACK HYLTON AND HIS ORCHESTRA: We'll Meet Again
"Broad, sunlit uplands."
Good old Winston. "Our finest hour!"
They're starting to take away our nice gate and railings.
I'll make a wooden gate.
- Oh, it's a shame. - They want saucepans, too.
They make 'em into Spitfires.
ETHEL: Funny to think of our front gate being a Spitfire.
(BICYCLE WHEEL TICKING)
(DRONE OF ENGINE)
(BOMBS WHISTLE)
(BOOM OF EXPLOSIONS)
(AIR-RAID SIREN BLARES)
(SHOUTING)
(BOMB WHISTLES)
The front door's halfway up the stairs.
It's spoiled my loose covers.
(AMBULANCE BELL RINGS)
Could have been worse, Et. We got off light.
I'm glad Raymond was well clear of all this.
Perhaps when we've got this mess cleared up,
we could take a trip down to Dorset and give him a visit.
(BIRDS TWITTER)
Mum!
Dad! Look at me!
Look! (CHUCKLES)
Raymond, be careful, dear.
No need to worry about him, Ethel. He's got quite used to things now.
(PIGS GRUNT AND SNORT)
Phwoar! Lovely country smells, eh, boysie?
Are the pigs like that because of the blackout?
Oh, Et.
- Ooh. - (RAYMOND GIGGLES)
Come along, Raymond. We've seen the pigs.
(GRUNTING)
(SHEEP BLEAT)
AUNTY BETTY: He's fitted into the school very well, hasn't he, Flo?
It's as if he's always been here.
- Oh. Good. - (SLURPING)
Mum, the boys at school all have boots.
They're common boys, Ethel, from Lambeth and Bermondsey.
- Can I have boots? - Certainly not, Raymond.
Ohh.
I've always dreamed of a cottage in the country.
ETHEL: Down here it's hard to believe there's a war on.
RAYMOND: Come on, piggies.
(BIRDS TWITTER AND CHIRP)
That Mr Morrison and his soppy shelter has ruined my nice dining room.
Government precautions, dear.
Still, at least we won't have to go out into the cold.
(CHUCKLES) You look like you're in the zoo.
I'll paint it brown to tone in with the furniture.
A nice pastel brown, Ernest.
- Blimey. - What?
Germany's invaded Russia!
I wish I'd betted you sixpence.
- (AIR-RAID SIREN BLARES) - Oh. Night, dear.
ETHEL: Night.
♪ GRACIE FIELDS: Singin' In The Bathtub
♪ Singing in the bathtub
♪ Happy once again
Ernest, what on earth are you doing with that ruler?
Marking five inches.
You're only allowed five inches of water.
But if you were fat, it would be higher up.
Yeah, well, the King's done it at Buckingham Palace.
It's not fair, fat people getting a deeper bath.
They say you're supposed to share the bath too, darling.
- Disgusting. - We share ours.
But not at the same time.
Ha-ha-ha!
(PLANE ENGINES DRONE)
(AIR-RAID SIREN BLARES)
Look! Look!
Jerry's got a direct hit. Those buildings are gonna topple.
FIREMAN: Is there anyone in 'em?
Don't know. Hope to God not.
Over here!
- On the left, there! - Not enough pressure!
(CREAKING)
Watch out!
(DOOR OPENS)
(DOOR CLOSES)
(FOOTSTEPS)
Oh, at last.
Are you all right?
Tired.
Been in the docks.
14 hours.
Here, let me get your boots off.
- There. - Loads of dead.
Little kiddie.
- All in bits. - (SHE WHIMPERS)
I had to…
(SOBS)
Oh, there, there.
Have a good cry.
(SOBS)
♪ ANTHONY WAY: Holly And The Ivy
♪ The holly bears a prickle
♪ As sharp as any thorn
Cor, this Beveridge Report.
Sickness pay, unemployment pay, old age pensions, kiddies welfare,
free medicines, free hospitals.
Don't read, Ernest, help!
Social security from the cradle to the grave.
The welfare state.
It's what the workers have always fought for.
We've won!
- It'll have to be paid for. - Course it will.
We'll all chip in. That's the whole idea.
You can't chip in if you're out of work, or off sick, or on a pension.
No, well… course not. It's all gotta be worked out.
It's economics, see?
Economics will see to it.
There.
All done.
- Oh, Ernest. - I know, I know.
♪ And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
♪ On Christmas Day in the morn
♪ Oh, the rising of the sun
- Aunty Flo? - Yes, dear?
I wish I could sleep in my own bed again.
Course you do, dear.
That Mr Hitler's on the run now, Raymond.
I'm sure you'll be back in London soon enough.
There. All done.
- (DOOR CLOSES) ETHEL: Are you there?
- What's up, Et? - Dearest.
I've been promoted. Clerk, grade B3.
Cor. No more packing parcels in that rotten, freezing warehouse?
No. I'm going to work in an office.
- (THEY CHUCKLE) - And that's not all, Et.
Look, a letter from our boy.
They reckon he can come home now.
Oh! Oh, Ernest!
(GRUNTS)
That's it, son.
♪ Dig, dig, dig, feel your muscles getting big
♪ Keep on pushing in the spade
♪ The turnip tops
♪ The potatoes and the carrots
♪ Cannot sprout without your aid
♪ Don't mind the worms
♪ Just ignore their squirms
♪ When your back aches laugh with glee
♪ And keep on digging till we give our foes a wigging
♪ Dig, dig, dig to victory
Hooray!
- Cup of tea, boysie? - Thanks, Dad.
That country air has got you fit.
(PLANE ENGINE DRONES IN DISTANCE)
Dad?
Come on, son!
Down the shelter! Run!
- Take cover! - (SHOUTING)
Doodlebug.
Get down, son! Get down!
(ENGINE CUTS OUT)
Engine's cut out.
Christ, it's coming down!
(CRASH, BOOM OF EXPLOSION)
Cor. That was close.
I didn't know they were bright blue underneath, Dad.
Come on, son. Shelter.
Before any more of the blighters come over.
We'd better get you back down the country tomorrow.
(PLANE ENGINES DRONE)
(BOOM OF EXPLOSION)
(PLANE ENGINES DRONE)
Crikey, dear. Sounds like a lot got through tonight.
(SILENCE)
- I can't hear anything. - Hold tight, duck.
- (GLASS SHATTERING) - (ETHEL SCREAMS)
Some shelter. Full of glass.
Morrison shelters!
That Mr Morrison must be a proper twerp.
Good job the boy wasn't in it. He's only been gone two days.
(SNIFFS) The old Dorothy Perkins is still in bloom. She survived.
Pity he didn't take his teddy with him.
(GASPS) Oh, Ernest.
How much more of this is there gonna be?
(PIANO PLAYS AND CHEERING)
(CHATTER AND LAUGHTER)
- Ernest? - What?
Careful. That's your second glass of beer.
Victory in Europe, Et.
(CHEERING)
(INTRO TO THE LAMBETH WALK)
♪ Any time you're Lambeth way - Look at Dad!
♪ Any evening, any day
♪ You'll find us all
♪ Doing the Lambeth Walk, oi!
♪ Every little Lambeth gal
♪ With her little Lambeth pal
♪ You'll find 'em all
♪ Doing the Lambeth Walk, oi!
♪ Everything's free and easy
♪ Do as you darn well pleasy
♪ Why don't you make your way there
♪ Go, stay there
Come on, Arthur! It's VE Day! Cheer up!
You look like a dog that's lost its tail.
I lost my boy.
Yeah. I'm sorry, mate.
I'm sorry. I forgot.
Sorry.
(PIANIST PLAYS DOWN AT THE OLD BULL AND BUSH)
♪ GRACIE FIELDS: A Perfect day
♪ When you come to the end
♪ Of a perfect day
Cor. To think there will never be another war.
ETHEL: Jessie's Bob is still fighting the Japs, don't forget.
And you can knock this thing down.
(CLATTERING)
When I've finished tidying it.
♪ For the joy that the day has brought
Look. It's come up.
- What's that, son? - A pear tree.
Aunty Flo gave me the pips from a pear we ate.
Better not get too big, it'll block out all the light.
Don't discourage the boy, Ernest.
ETHEL: I like a nice pear.
Darling!
Labour's won!
We're in! Ha-ha-ha!
Such a shame for poor Mr Churchill.
The working man will be all right now. At last!
He saved our bacon in the war.
Bloody marvellous!
Ernest! Mr Churchill never swears. He's a gentleman.
- I'm Labour, Mum. - Shush, dear.
It is now estimated that casualties from the atomic bomb
dropped on the city of Hiroshima could exceed one hundred thousand dead.
A hundred thousand dead from one bomb.
Well, at least it will put paid to wars.
Really? Why?
Well, you can't fight a war with bombs like that.
- Why not? - Everyone will be dead the first day.
Hm.
Ohh!
He's passed the scholarship!
He's going to the grammar school!
Hm. I hope he won't get too posh for us.
Oh, Ernest!
And, there. There we are. Now, turn around, sonny. Show Mummy.
Oh… Raymond.
You do look smart.
Oh, wait a minute.
Can't have a dirty face, can we?
Not at the grammar school.
Quite so, madam.
Languages, eh?
Oh, yes. He has to do French and Latin. And Maths.
Oh, like arithmetic?
No, not just arithmetic. It's called alge…
alge… erm… alge… bra.
Oh. And sport, does he do his football?
Oh, no.
- They play rugger. ERNEST: Ethel?
Oh, sorry, must go.
You shouldn't go on about it to Mrs Bennet, dear.
Why not?
Well, her boy didn't get in anywhere. He's a bricklayer now.
I don't see why I shouldn't be proud of my own son.
Yeah? Well, well, OK.
- Wahey! - Mum, look!
- What do you reckon? - Smashing, Dad.
It's electric, son.
I hope you can keep control of it, Ernest.
Can I have a go on it?
Just you keep away from it. It's dangerous.
See you later.
Bye!
(WHISTLES CHEERFULLY)
- Hello, Ern. - Hello, Alf.
Ta.
- How goes it, then? - Oh, not good.
My old lady… she's getting a bit much.
Oh?
Rows, you mean? Money?
No, no, no. You know…
- … the other. - Hm?
It's the change. She's on the change.
Too demanding. Do you know what I mean?
I can't cope. It's too much for me.
So, if you ever fancy… you know…
You'd be doing me a favour.
Eh? What? You mean er…?
I'll be out next Saturday. Football. Fulham's at home. So…
You mean, you…
Yeah, like I say, you'd be doing me a favour.
Oh, blimey, no. No, mate. No, I couldn't. Sorry. No.
I… I got a barrow to push.
No hard feelings.
Nor me, neither.
Ta-ta, Alf.
See you, Ern.
WIFE: Alf?
♪ CHARLES PENROSE: The Laughing Policeman
♪ I know a fat old policeman
♪ He's always on our street
♪ A fat and jolly red-faced man
♪ He really is a treat
♪ He's too kind for a policeman
♪ He's never known to frown
♪ And everybody says he is the happiest man in town
♪ Whoo-ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
♪ Whoo-ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
♪ Whoo-ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
♪ Whoo-ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
- Mrs Briggs? - Yes.
Detective Sergeant Burnley, CID.
Oh, no! Whatever is…?
Your son was apprehended breaking and entering the golf club
and stealing valuable billiard cues.
No!
He's lucky. This time we're letting him off with a caution.
In you go, sunshine.
Next time it will be borstal!
(GASPS) No.
No, it's not possible. He…
He… He goes to grammar school!
(DOOR CLOSES)
You wicked, wicked boy!
- I could kill you! - Sorry, Mum.
How could you?
- Borstal! Borstal! - Ow!
Whatever's going on?
Well?
(BOTH SOB)
I see your boy came home in a police van.
Yes. Yes, he did. That's right.
He's been helping the police with their investigations.
In a Black Maria?
Yes. He reported some stolen property he found in the woods.
The Chief Inspector said he was a very clever boy.
- (SLAMS) - Hm.
Look. More scrap Anderson. Ah, fits perfect.
We'll own all the coal soon. They're gonna nationalise it.
I bet we still have to pay for it.
Well, course we'll have to pay for it, you daft ha'porth.
- So we won't own it, then, will we? - Well, er… not exactly.
But it means the profits will go to the Government,
instead of lining the pockets of the bosses.
And then the Government gives the money to us?
- No! - So what's the difference, then?
Cor! 50,000 GI brides going to America. Kiddies with them, too.
Children? But they're not married!
Yeah, well, I expect some of them jumped the gun a bit.
You know what they say about the Yanks. "One yank and they're down."
(CHUCKLES)
- What are down? - Er, well, I dunno. It's just a saying.
(ETHEL TUTS)
Wheeee!
(HE CHUCKLES)
Blimey. There's gonna be a thousand miles of motorway.
A terrific network!
What about the green belt? All that lovely country.
Yeah, well, it will bypass it, I expect.
I thought you said there were going to be lots of bypasses already?
Yeah, well, so there are.
- It will bypass the bypasses, then. - And what about the ring roads?
Look, it will bypass the ring roads and bypass the bypasses.
- And bypass the green belt? - Yes, and bypass the green belt!
That's all right, then.
Only it does seem a bit of a muddle.
(BIRDSONG)
He's passed!
He's passed the school certificate!
It says he's matric… matriculated, or something.
- Is that good? - Well, of course it's good!
- What does it mean? - I don't know what it means.
Not our place to know.
(HE WHISTLES)
- Morning, Mr Briggs. - Lovely morning.
- (SOBBING) - (WHISTLES THEN GASPS)
- (SOBS) - Whatever's the matter, dear?
He says he wants to leave the grammar school and go to art school.
Art school?
- Oh, blimey. - Such a shame.
He could have gone to Oxford and Cambridge.
And got a nice job in an office.
He could have been a foreman or even, maybe, a manager.
(SHE SOBS)
There's no money in it. He'll never earn a living at it.
That lot's all long hair, drink and…
- … and nude women. - Oh, Ernest!
ANNOUNCER: It was confirmed today that Russia
has exploded its first atomic bomb.
The test took place in a remote area of Kazakhstan, and it is believed…
Russia explodes an atomic bomb.
Oh, blimey. That's bin an' gorn an' dunnit.
Ernest, do speak properly.
(CAT MEOWS)
(MEOWS)
Dad, when you come home from work, why don't you wash in the bathroom?
(CHUCKLES) Blimey, son. I'm filthy, look.
Yes, I know, but that's what the bathroom is for.
No, I couldn't wash in the bathroom. Not in this state.
But this is the kitchen, Dad. Mum cooks in it.
ETHEL: Whoo-hoo!
No, I couldn't, son. Not in the bathroom.
Oh, Dad!
Hello, dear. Had a good day at college?
- Oh, what's up with him? - They call it ad-o-lescence, dear.
They don't understand.
That launderette is a godsend.
I did the whole blessed lot for two and nine. And it's all bone-dry.
I could get an electric thermostat for the tank.
Hot water in the summertime. All modern.
Electric thermostat. Electric fridge. Electric milk float.
My old mum and dad never knew the meaning of the word.
- What word, duck? - Electric!
Down home there was nothing electric in the whole blessed house.
- We all grew up all right. - Two of you died as children, dear.
- What's that got to do with electric? - Well, it's progress, Et. Scientific.
It's scientific progress.
Blimey! What's this? Meat ration to be cut by tuppence?
That's the lowest it's ever been. And six years after the end of the war.
We had more meat under Mr Churchill.
Yeah, all right.
- Middle of the Blitz we had more meat. - Yes!
- Battle of Britain. - All right!
- You can't blame Hitler now. - No!
Just your Labour Government.
(SIGHS)
♪ JULIETTE GRECO: Sous Le Ciel De Paris
- Bye, Mum. - Bye, dear.
♪ Sous le ciel de Paris S'envole une chanson
♪ Mm, mm
♪ Elle est née d'aujourd'hui… - Just look at the pair of them.
Her in black stockings.
- And just look at his hair. ERNEST: Well, they're art students, dear.
He'll grow out of it when he gets a proper job.
He'll never get a proper job with hair like that!
♪ Leur bonheur se construit Sur un air fait pour eux
Cor blimey. There's a candidate here in the General Election.
Not only is she a woman, but she's 26!
I'm old enough to be her father!
And she's a Tory. What is the world coming to?
I thought your Labour believed in equal rights for everybody?
Well, yeah, course but… blimey.
She's old enough to be married, have a baby, go to work, drive a car,
be in the Army, fly a plane in the war.
Yeah, but… blimey. I'd like to see her do my job.
She doesn't want your job. She wants to be an MP. She's educated.
And I'm not, I suppose?
Well, no, you're not educated, are you, dear?
Nor am I. We couldn't be MPs.
Ohh.
- Who wants to be an MP anyway, eh? - (They chuckle)
Ha! Cheese ration cut to one ounce!
Seven years after the war. One ounce.
Not enough for a mousetrap.
There's your Tory Government for you! Look! Your Mr Churchill's cheese!
I hope you washed your hands before touching that cheese.
- It's my call-up papers. - What?
I'm going into the Royal Corps of Signals.
Well, don't you go and get sent to that Korean War.
- No, that's all over, bar the shouting. ETHEL: It isn't!
Mrs Hammond's boy, Michael, was killed there only last week.
Blimey. Was he? He used to help me on the milk round when he was a nipper.
He was just 19.
Then, when you come to attention… Atten-tion!
… you have to slam your boot down so hard
the blood spurts through the lace holes.
- Oh, don't, dear. - It's true, Mum.
ERNEST: Are you gonna do parachute jumping, son?
Er, no. I'm gonna be a draughtsman. In an office.
Oh, good. That's nice. An office.
And thank goodness you've had a proper haircut at last.
- (LAUGHS) - (GROANS)
Mrs Morgan's boy is going to be an officer.
- Oh, yeah? - Don't you want to be an officer, dear?
Not likely, Mum. They want head boys, team captains, prefects.
Preferably public school.
I'm just a common little suburban grammar school oik.
Oh, but the uniform is so much nicer, dear.
And you could wear nice brown shoes. Boots are so common.
(DIAL TONE)
Our very own phone. Who'd have believed it?
Ooh, dear. What shall I do if it rings when you're out?
- Well, answer it, you daft ha'porth. - I don't think I like it.
- (PHONE RINGS) - (SHE GASPS)
Oh, good God, quick, Ernest, it's going off!
(CLEARS THROAT)
Hello?
Yes.
No.
Oh, right. Goodbye.
Wrong number, dear.
♪ Dixon Of Dock Green Theme
Oh, Ernest. It's just like the pictures.
Yes. We might get Victor McLaglen.
- He's dead. - They could still put him on.
Oh, I prefer Tyrone Power. He's more modern.
(PHONE RINGS)
Oh.
(PHONE CONTINUES RINGING)
You get it, Ernest.
(STOPS RINGING)
Blessed thing.
(GRUNTS)
- Fancy our little boy having a motorbike. - It's a scooter, Et. Lambretta.
- They're Italian. - He's far too young for motorbikes.
(GRUNTS)
ETHEL: And I see it's back to the long hair already.
Well, he's demobbed now, dear.
(ENGINE STARTS)
- Cheerio, Mum. - Bye, dear.
- Cheerio, Dad. - Bye, son!
He's got three certificates now.
Yeah, but they're only art certificates, Et. They won't get him a job.
- One is from London University. - Yeah, I know, but…
He can put letters after his name. Just like a doctor.
(PURRS)
ETHEL: Hello, Susie.
This says they're wanting to legalise homosexuality.
Oh.
What's that?
Well, you know, it's like two blokes,
only instead of with a woman, sort of with one another, like.
I don't know what you're rambling on about, Ernest,
and I don't think you do, either.
I'll, er… put the kettle on, shall I, duck? Nice cup of tea?
(TUTS)
(MEOWS)
(TAP RUNS)
- Surprise, dear! - What?
Hey presto!
Mind. The sun will fade my loose covers.
Look!
What?
- You see anything? - No.
- Nothing new? Different? - No.
- That green car? - Well, what about it?
Triumph Herald. Wasn't there yesterday.
Well, there's always different cars stuck outside our house nowadays.
- Well, that one's special. - What's special about it?
It's ours! (LAUGHS)
Oh, don't be daft, Ernest.
Come on, dear. Get in.
Oh, Ern. I don't like to.
I've still got my pinny on, and I haven't done my hair.
Come on!
Is it really yours?
Ours, darling. Shut the door, we'll go for a spin.
(STARTS ENGINE)
♪ THE SHADOWS: Foot Tapper
I didn't know you could drive a proper car.
(LAUGHS)
(MUSIC ENDS)
Letter from Raymond.
Crumbs! The average male manual worker earns £13 2/11 a week!
Blimey. I must be below average then.
It doesn't apply to you, Ernest. You're not a manual worker.
Oh! He's gonna be a teacher!
Oh, good. That's a bit more regular.
- It's in a college of art. - That's better.
Thank God it's not just an art school.
- Part-time. - Well, part-time's no good.
That's more for women.
One day a week, look.
Blimey.
He gets almost as much for one day as I get for the whole bloody week!
- (DOOR SLAMS) - Ernest!
Ooh! "See you on the 30th.
I'll be bringing… Jean with me."
♪ DAVE BERRY: Little Things
Here they come, Et.
♪ Little things that you do…
Hello, Mum. Dad. This is Jean.
- Hello, Jean. - Hello.
Hello, dear. Oh, look at you.
Here's a comb.
(GROANS) Mum, I haven't seen you for a month.
I've just brought my future wife to meet you. I do not want a comb!
- Right, then. - (CHUCKLES)
I'll, um… put the kettle on.
(HE SIGHS)
- Sorry, Mum. - Oh, come and sit down, dear.
Lovely to see you. And you too, Jane.
Jean, Mum.
- I thought you'd like, um… - Oh, thank you, dear.
- (LAUGHS) Whatever is it? - Well, it's a bottle of wine, Mum.
Wine? Oh, dear, I don't know…
- Got a corkscrew anywhere? - Wine. Oh, dear.
- It's all right, Mum. It won't explode. - I don't like bangs.
- (POPS) - (LAUGHTER)
♪ Little things that you do… - Bye, Mum. Bye, Dad.
- Cheerio, son. - I do wish you'd get a nice car, dear.
Van's cheaper, Mum. No purchase tax.
But a car is so much nicer.
♪ When we walk
- Bye! ♪ You like to hold my hand
- She was a nice kid, wasn't she? - Didn't say much.
She's shy. Very shy. Like you, sweetheart.
Hair all over the shop. Too tall.
She can't help that, dear. She's all legs.
Never mind her legs, Ernest. She needs a perm.
And he needs a good haircut.
Oh, no. He says they're going to get married in a registry office.
- Well, that's the modern way, Et. - Oh, it's horrible.
Yes, but neither of them is religious.
I don't want him to be religious. I just want him to get married in a church.
(SNIFFLES)
It's so much nicer.
And, erm… when are you gonna start a family, dear?
Well, I don't know really, Mum. Probably not at all.
Goodness me, why ever not? I wanna be a granny.
Well, Jean's got problems, Mum. Brain trouble.
- Brain trouble? - Yeah, well, that's what I call it.
As a sort of joke.
She goes in and out of the loony bin.
You mean she's…
she's mental?
Yeah, well, that's one word for it.
The other word is schizophrenia.
Oh, dear. Poor thing.
So, I won't be a granny after all.
Never mind, Mum.
(BIRDSONG)
What a dump.
Dump?
Mum, the Government has designated this
an area of outstanding natural beauty.
An AONB. It's official.
Well, I still say it's a dump.
The South Downs are at the end of the garden.
I give up. I give up.
Son, it's the sort of place I always dreamed about.
I know, Dad. I know.
They seem very happy down there, despite the schizo business.
Yes, I suppose so. I was hoping he'd send his washing home.
- Oh, Et. Don't be daft. He's married. - Yes, I know.
- (HAMMERING) - What's that?
My retirement certificate.
37 years' service with the Royal Arsenal Co-operative Society.
I'm not sure I want that on the front room wall.
Well, that's where it's going, Ethel.
TV: That's one small step for man…
one giant leap for mankind.
Cor blimey. A man on the moon, Et.
- Oh? - A man on the moon.
Fantastic, eh?
What's he doing there?
(SLURPS) Well, just walking about a bit.
- Then what? - Come back, I suppose.
Perhaps they'll have a picnic.
(SNIFFS) That would be nice.
I think the tea would blow away when it came out of the Thermos.
Why, is it windy up there?
- No, it's gravity, dear. - Oh, I see.
Look, he's gonna pick up some pebbles to take home.
Just like kiddies at the seaside.
Turn it off, will you?
Did you have a good journey, dear?
Oh, yes. OK, Mum. Fine, fine.
Much traffic on the road?
Well, er, the A23 was a bit choked up, wasn't it?
Um, but er… after Sutton it sort of thinned out a bit
and, er… you know, got better.
Here's a comb, dear.
Thanks, Mum.
(RAINFALL)
Remember we used to bring the pram up here?
It's me in the pram now.
They used to do nice teas in The Balcony before the war.
Waitresses in aprons and caps.
- Never did go, did we, dear? - Yes. It was lovely.
The yobbos smashed all the windows.
Well, that's your Labour Party for you.
(DOG BARKING IN DISTANCE)
(ETHEL WHIMPERS AND GROANS)
- Mr Briggs. Mr Briggs. - What?
Is there a telephone? I need to call an ambulance.
Downstairs, Doctor. Front room.
Ethel?
♪ THE CHOIR OF KING'S COLLEGE: In Dulci Jubilo
(CHOIR SINGS ON TV)
Why are they all staring at me?
Oh, they're not staring at you, Mum. It's the television.
Put it right by your bed.
I don't like them staring at me. And I don't like being in Charity Ward.
It doesn't mean "charity", Mum. It's a girl's name.
What's that music? I can hear music.
Carols, Mum. On the television. It's Christmas. There's the tree, look.
ETHEL: Oh, I hope I'll be home in time for Christmas.
- When is it? - It was yesterday, Mum.
You had your presents yesterday.
Look at all your cards, hm? Lovely flowers.
Yes, lovely. Ain't I a lucky girl?
(SNIFFLES)
Listen, dear.
(WHISPERS) Who was that old man in here just now?
Oh, Mum. That was Dad.
Dad?
You know, Ernest. Your husband.
- My husband? - Yes.
- Not Victor McLaglen? - No, Mum.
I thought he was dead.
Lovely… Lovely flowers, Mum.
Oh, yes, lovely.
Ain't I a lucky girl?
(TELEPHONE DIALLING)
(RINGING TONE)
- Son? Is that you? - Yes.
The hospital. They just phoned.
Oh, right.
She's…
- I'm going up there. - I'll leave now.
- OK. I'll see you there. - Bye, Dad.
- (SOBS) - Steady on, old son.
Steady on.
(PHONE PINGS)
- Why is she on a trolley? - I don't know, son.
Look, bloody tissues and Vim right by her face.
- They've put her teeth in all crooked. - I know, son.
I don't know.
(SLURPS)
I still keep laying the table for two, duck.
Daft, isn't it, Susie, puss?
Nice daffs, aren't they?
(NEWS THEME ON TV)
(PURRS)
TV: … retailers tell the Government they accept the need…
I'll get cocoa in a minute, dear.
(CLOCK TICKS)
- Good night, Susie. - (MEOWS)
- Argh! - (SUSIE SCREECHES)
Ohh!
- Argh! - (MEOWS)
Argh! (GROANS)
- (BREATHES LABORIOUSLY) - (SUSIE MEOWS)
It's OK, Susie.
(INHALES AND EXHALES DEEPLY)
(PHONE RINGS)
(BREATHES HEAVILY)
(PHONE CONTINUES RINGING)
(APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS)
I suppose I better get the Salvation Army to take it all away.
I grew it from a pip.
♪ PAUL McCARTNEY: In The Blink Of An Eye
Subtitles (English SDH): BTI Studios
♪ I can see a shadow
♪ Underneath the moon
♪ Maybe a winter cloud burst
♪ Heading this way soon
♪ In the blink of an eye
♪ Many songs have been sung
♪ Many lives have gone by
♪ We will never give up
♪ We will hold on to love
♪ With no reason to cry
♪ In the blink of an eye
♪ Many songs have been sung
♪ Many lives have gone by
♪ We will never give up
♪ We will hold on to love
♪ With no reason to cry
♪ I can see the shadow
♪ Underneath the moon
♪ Maybe a winter cloud burst
♪ Heading this way soon
(SONG ENDS)
♪ CARL DAVIS: Walking In The Park With Eloise
English SDH