This programme contrains strong language and adult humour
And how are our desserts here?
This cherry clafoutis is exquisite.
It's one of Juliet's specialities.
She trained in the Limousin region, the home of clafoutis.
Well, I've never had clafoutis like it.
I fear we may have ruined all other clafoutis for you.
The clafoutis that Juliet makes is quite simply a phenomenal clafoutis.
Hiya, Geoff, how's it going?
My father died in 1982.
Right, anything we can do or...
I had a rummage last week,
looking for photos for Laurie's birthday memorial,
found Dad's death certificate.
Died of bowel cancer.
Oh, Laurie, had that, too, right?
Well, Laurie started with bowel, then it went to his stomach, lungs, and oesophagus, liver and kidney.
He was like a cancer pasty in the end.
So, I'm having myself tested.
I wouldn't worry, Geoff, you're an active guy,
you don't look your age at all.
How old do you reckon I am then?
Five years younger than whatever you really are?
Well, that's very kind, Jan, thank you.
But genes are genes.
Do you have blood in your stools, Geoff?
You know, if you don't mind me asking.
I don't seem to, Mike, so that's a blob of comfort.
Awww. How about a lunch, Geoff, settle yourself down.
Do you still do paninis?
We're not a panini kind of pub any more.
Here's a bar menu.
Go on, then, I'll have the warm beetroot and fennel salad
with sheep's curd and red onion marmalade.
And a Diet Dr Pepper?
Magic.
Yeah.
SHE KNOCKS ON DOOR
It's open.
Hi.
How're you doing?
Fine, you know,
lying still, chilling,
having a nice stare.
I tried calling you but...
Andrew's won, hasn't he?
Transformed the pub into a terrible brilliant success in a way I simply couldn't.
Owns a bigger share of it than me, customers love him,
he's won.
Only if you accept he has.
I accept he has.
He's stolen my life, and he's living it better than me.
He deserves everything that wasn't coming to me,
but will come to him now that he is me.
Andrew is just a guy.
No, he's got powers.
Mum's asked us both to give speeches at Dad's birthday memorial.
Whose speech will be brilliant?
Who will people think is Laurie's heir?
You know who.
You are his heir. You're his blood family.
Come on, you can hire people to write speeches.
Let's find you a guy to...
Are you OK?
Anxiety pills.
Not pills to give me anxiety, to prevent it.
My GP calls them "keep calm and carry on" pills.
Because he's a dreadful fucker.
You're not meant to drink alcohol with them, are you?
No, that's why I'm only having white wine.
Right.
I am not going to let you wallow in a half-pissed haze of self-pity.
This is the moment we do the Rocky montage.
Out of bed! This is your pub. You are Laurie's son.
So let's sort you out.
When was the last time you had a shower?
This morning. Oh, right.
Why, do I smell?
No.
I mean it was literally two hours ago.
No, sorry, it was sort of a rhetorical flourish.
Do I stink?
Is that something else to feel anxious about?
Oh, for fuck's sake, Stephen!
I don't think we've ever had so many covers.
Oh, you're a marvel, Juliet.
And how clever of you to bring her over here, Andrew.
Not seen Paul back for a few days.
No, he died.
I'm joking. We split up, it wasn't working.
He's really old, had you noticed?
He did seem a little bit agey.
I'm sorry it didn't work out.
It was completely amicable.
We both agreed I'd made a massive mistake and he had to leave immediately.
Cancer results are in.
Zero! Clean as a lady's glove.
You could ice a cake with my rectum.
Large scotch, Geoff? Don't mind if I do.
You're clear, that's good news.
Cass, you need to get checked out, too.
Because your dad and your grandfather both got bowel cancer, you're higher risk.
Oh, God! I say higher risk, that just means a bit higher than average.
Chances are you'd be fine, like me.
Oh, my God, I've got cancer.
No, you misheard me.
You just need to get checked out because of the increased risk.
I always felt I might have a limited time in this physical body,
this temporary vehicle.
No, fuck's sake, you'll be fine!
Go to the doc's, get a referral, get checked!
Whatever becomes of me, remember we are but dust and shadow.
Be there any greater wisdom than this? Aye, yet there be.
Love one another.
So, for this meeting, in a short speech with up to 20 gags, it's 175.
I'd like to it feel natural, you know, not forced.
I've got you, understood.
I offer a bespoke service, no off-the-peg jokes here.
Great, it needs to be sharp, polished, but also real, sincere, with a depth to it.
OK.
Was he a fat guy, your dad?
Hang his pants on the line, people thought there was an eclipse?
He wasn't particularly fat.
Oh, that's a shame, because there's a lot you can do with weight and slimming and so on.
He was just a sort of normal size.
OK. Did he get on with your mum?
You could say he didn't speak to Mum for 18 months once,
well, he didn't like to interrupt her.
They got on very well.
Ah, fair enough.
Another avenue shut, never mind.
Did your dad take you fishing?
No. No?
Jesus!
I got a tonne of stuff on fishing.
Difference between fishing and sex,
you go fishing, you actually want to catch something.
That's hilariously funny, but it's not really the tone I'm after.
OK, you'd rather stay clear of the adult material.
That's fair by me, I can do any style.
Do you remember Adam Cassidy?
I wrote for Adam Cassidy for years.
Dead at 48, poor sod.
But he could do everything,
from the family-friendly gentle pointing stuff
to really dark jokes about missing children, bestiality,
physical deformities.
Let's try leaning more towards the pointing side of things.
Fine.
You got any brothers or sisters?
That's a rich scene.
No.
No brothers or sisters.
Have you prepared your speech?
I thought I'd read the room vibe, then wing it, speak from the heart.
You?
I've got a speech worked out with 20 jokes.
Some are about fishing.
Did Dad used to take you fishing?
No, never, I was going to pretend he did.
And that he had big pants.
I got my appointment to be checked out for the, you know...
The cancer?
Are you getting checked?
No! I don't want to know, I'd rather be ignorant of most things.
You really should get checked.
Fine! But I'll almost certainly have bowel cancer.
My colon is like a Passchendaele trench.
Anyway, I'd like you both to have this.
It's a memory box, for to remember me by.
To be opened in the event of, you know...
Your death.
I'm sure it's all going to be fine.
Inside there are some photos of me, a lock of my hair, some drawings,
and a recording of me aged 14 singing Billie Holiday's Strange Fruit.
I sincerely hope I won't have to listen to that for a long time.
Thanks.
You know, I can't help thinking of the baby I never had,
crying for the mummy she never knew!
I'm sorry, God bless both of you!
Do you...? No, that's yours, mate.
A box of hair for you and Cass's weeping, fictional baby.
Oh, Chris!
Hello!
Who are they?
Oh, Mum invited some of the other foster kids to come along.
The favourite ones she stayed in touch with.
Right, lovely surprise, what a sweet gesture.
Look at you.
Do you recognise any of them?
No, I don't think so.
Alfie Tate! Oh, it's lovely Alfie Tate!
Oh!
Boys, look!
It's lovely Alfie Tate!
Oh, he was here a year or two before you, Andrew.
Laurie cherished Alfie Tate.
Absolutely adored him.
Hi, Alfie! Hey!
Lovely Alfie Tate, lights up a room, doesn't he?
Women want to fuck him, men want to buy him a drink.
And then fuck him.
I am, I think, a little bit drunk.
CHEERING
But I don't care.
We are all here to celebrate what would have been Laurie's
69th birthday.
And here to say a few words about him is our boy,
Stephen!
APPLAUSE
I did hire a joke writer to help with his speech.
Hooray! This'll be good then.
But reading the room, his material doesn't feel right in the moment.
Oh...
Instead, I'm going to speak from the heart.
Shit.
My dad never took me fishing.
That might sound odd to some people.
Isn't that what normal dads do with their sons?
But Laurie wasn't a normal dad, he wasn't an off-the-peg dad.
He was a bespoke dad,
a particular, peculiar dad
and husband and foster father and brother and friend and publican.
Today, all of those unique figures would,
should have been 69.
Still young.
Gone too soon.
Here's to him.
Happy birthday, Laurie Nichols.
Happy birthday, Laurie Nichols!
APPLAUSE
Barrel of fucking laughs.
Now, I think that Andrew...
Oh, this would have been the point, wouldn't it, Geoff,
on Laurie's birthday when he'd sit and play Rocket Man on the pub piano. Oh...
Can anyone play?
Alfie Tate, lovely Alfie Tate can play, can't you?
I remember.
Come on!
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
I haven't played in ages.
# And I think it's gonna be a long, long time
# Til touchdown brings me back again to find
# I'm not the man they think I am at home
# Oh, no, no, no
# Cos I'm a rocket man
# Rocket man, burning out his fuse up here alone
# And I think it's gonna be a long, long time... #
Guy there with the murder face, someone said it's Andrew Donnelly?
It is Andrew Donnelly.
Really? Yeah, why?
I was in a halfway house with Andrew at 14, 15.
Shit hole. We both had great memories of being fostered here.
That's not him. Not him?
You're saying that man there is not Andrew Donnelly?
Well, I didn't think so, but looking at him now from the side, maybe he is.
I mean it was a long time...
I'm going back to the caravan!
The game's afoot!
I'm going to finally find out the truth about Andrew or "Andrew",
that inflection was implying inverted commas.
Do you think he's losing his powers?
Yeah, Alfie Tate's his kryptonite.
The ladder's wobbling, and I'm going it smash it into it in my vengeance bus.
Good luck, don't go too mad.
Don't worry, I won't go too mad.
# Rocket man!
# Rocket man, burning out his fuse up here alone... #
So, the map is...
This is where Google tells me Andrew, or ANDREW, has been living
and working in the last ten years.
Right. Look at the dots, the pattern.
Is he spelling a word out on the map? Is it kiln?
It looks like kiln to me.
Kiln, as in...?
As in kiln. Do we have a kiln here?
Is there maybe treasure in an old kiln that he knows is here?
Gold hidden in a buried kiln! That's why he came back.
Where's the K?
That's the K, clearly that's a K.
Now, look here. I've blown these pictures up.
Andrew's nose width in this one, 23mm. Mouth, 31mm.
But this photo, mouth 31 again. But look, nose 21, maybe even 20.
I really do think it's the same guy, Stephen.
But Chris at the party, he swore it wasn't.
Also, the eyes, look there.
He has inconsistent eyes.
It's clearly Andrew.
Andrew is Andrew.
I think what we really need to do is focus.
Good idea, focusing.
Great, I love the way your mind... No, actually focus.
Calm down and focus on me.
We need to look at the period of Andrew's life where he goes dark and
evaporates from the internet. Yes!
He's in the Limousin region, then nothing about him at all for
18 months, then he's running an ethical casino in Utrecht.
Right. That's what we need to concentrate on.
That is the key to who Andrew is and what he wants. Agreed.
Should you be boozing when you're still on medication?
I stopped the medication - it was making me feel woolly headed.
I need clarity. And these are single malts,
so it's not boozing, per se, it's more studied appreciation.
Lovely, unhackable, microfiche.
The big corporates in Russia can't delete it
like they can with the internet.
Microfiche is under the radar.
How often are you here, looking at newspapers on microfiche?
All day, every day.
I have an illegal kettle. If I use the plug just here,
no-one can see and I can make a pot noodle.
I just have to eat it quickly because of the smell,
so I have burnt my throat quite a bit.
And nothing yet on Andrew's missing 18 months?
Not yet, but it's just a matter of time.
Don't you think maybe you should ease up a bit? Why?
This is medicinal, by the way, for my burnt throat.
For your health!
Physical and mental. You've got high blood pressure.
Sure, but might be a good thing, the blood coursing around,
taking vital nutrients very quickly,
and under enormous pressure to where they're needed.
So, how are you?
Oh, you know...
Tom's moved out, so...
Right. I think we're done. It wasn't working.
It's been over for a while, apparently. Yep.
My head's all over the shop, if I'm honest.
Don't suppose you fancy a long, chatty, boozy dinner?
Talk it over?
Oh...
There's a thought. You could have a boozy dinner with Andrew.
You're a clean skin. He might let slip something to you about his
missing 18 months.
Right, you want me to go for dinner with Andrew?
It's just a pizza at Sergio's or something.
Could you maybe cover me while I put the kettle on
and make up an illicit Options?
Knock a book off a shelf.
Look, Andrew, I've had a card from lovely Alfie Tate
saying thank you for the party.
You never met as kids, did you?
No, but I...
..I knew about him.
Bye, Mum.
Say goodbye to Cass and Stephen.
Look after yourself, son. Been lovely having you with us.
You know what, Dad? The time I've lived here has been the best
five months of my life. Pleased to hear it.
Bye, Dad.
Ta-ta, Alfie.
DOOR SLAMS
It was such a treat to see him again.
Laurie doted on him.
Yeah. Now, I know he...
Results, Cass? Yep, all clear.
I'm back to being a normal person.
All of that horrible cancer drama is over with,
which is obviously totally brilliant. Hurray!
You can stop inspecting your stools, I mean, if you like.
It's actually a very healthy habit we should all get into. Aw!
SHE BLOWS A KISS
Ten minutes to closing.
If you're borrowing any books, please bring them to the desk now.
Oh, my God.
"Monsieur Donnelly a gravement blesse l'enfant."
Oh, yes.
Oh, joy!
Oh, fucking joy!
Andrew maimed a child!
Yes! Fucking yes!
He almost killed a little boy!
This is such fantastic news!
Get in! The boy nearly died!
Oh, my word! The boy nearly died!
He maimed a child!
Black Betty! He maimed a child!
Kettle in my holdall the entire time, you fucking bookworms.
Andrew!
I'm home!
Hi.
Everything all right? Everything's fine.
The cup that cheers.
Hmm.
I've been meaning to put these away.
Did you want anything in particular?
Yeah, I've come to run you out of town - like a cowboy.
Like a cowboy?
No, I meant Sheriff.
I know you went to prison in France, Andrew, and I know why.
Right.
And you'd like to weaponise this information.
The Licensing Act of 2003
tends to frown on drink-driving child maimers.
And what would Cass and Mum say?
Wonder Boy almost killed actual boy?
You've had your triple cooked chips, mate.
You weren't there. You don't know what really happened.
You need to fuck off and sell the share of the business you got from
Cass to me, mate's rates.
This is all about Dad, isn't it?
No, it's not all about Dad.
This is about the game you've been playing to take over my life.
Well, we're playing hardball now and that's checkmate.
I know I'm mixing my games up, but I haven't really slept for the last
two months. I've never wanted to take over your life, Stephen.
I just wanted to come back to where I was happy.
Bullshit.
If I go, you won't tell anyone about what happened in France?
Not a soul.
I'll go and pack then.
Go on, take them both.
Let go on this side. Let go. Let go.
How was everything?
Mostly fine. Excellent!
A very good night to you.
Satisfied customers tonight, I think.
I still don't get it. Andrew seemed on tiptop form yesterday.
His voice mail was vague.
It just said he had to deal with a ghost from his past,
like he had a dark or possibly guilty secret.
I'll miss him. He had an energy about him, didn't he?
Yeah, real energy. An electricity.
He shone. And buzzed. Well, sadly he's unplugged himself,
but we can still run this place without him.
I have to say, I don't know how you guys are going to run this place
without Andrew. He had an energy.
What was Andrew's ghost from the past, do we think?
Was it a sexual ghost?
I think I might know Andrew's secret.
Really? Whatever could it be?
I'm sure it's nothing, right, Juliet?
I can't imagine Andrew doing anything really terrible.
Probably be just a very minor tax thing.
For a while, Andrew lived in our village, a few kilometres outside of
Limoges. Everyone found him...
..very charming.
Very brilliant. He is, isn't he? He's got an energy.
We already know about the energy.
He would do anything to help others -
mend roofs, sweep chimneys, plant a wide flower meadow,
break in a horse.
I imagine you two were sexually involved.
No, purely friends and colleagues.
Right. I might still imagine it, though.
A few years ago, my father died very suddenly.
My mother, a much-loved teacher in our village, was distraught.
It's understandable.
She started drinking quite out of character.
One evening, she gave Andrew a lift in our car.
It was misty. She'd had a lot of alcohol.
There was still a half bottle of vodka in the glove box.
She drove too fast. There was a thud.
Oh, no, goat?
A boy. Right.
Just, in my mind's eye, I saw a goat. Carry on.
She had hit an eight-year-old boy.
Robert, one of pupils. Badly injured. Oh, my God.
Andrew phoned for an ambulance and then for the police.
The ambulance took Robert to hospital.
My mother was prepared for her life to be torn apart,
but when the police arrived...
..Andrew was in the driver's seat.
What?!
He just drank the vodka and told the policeman
that he had been driving,
that he had hit Robert.
THEY GASP
Andrew took the bullet for my mother.
He went to court, pleaded guilty, served 16 months in prison.
Bollocks.
I thought I might get the pub into trouble, the Licensing Act.
No-one needs to know about what happened in France.
It's eau under the pont.
Doesn't need to be public knowledge.
Well, if you're sure.
Let's just carry on as we were.
I think we were all perfectly happy as we were.
Oh, are you off, love? Hospital.
Going to be checked out for the bowel cancer gene. Why?
Because you're Laurie's son, that's why. What?
You're Laurie's son. You share his genes,
You should get yourself checked out pronto. Good idea. See you later.
Am I...? Sorry, are you saying I'm not Laurie's son?
No, that's the exact opposite of what I'm saying. Geoff...
It's fine, I've got this.
Mum, what is this? Let's not. What is this?
You know I had a lot of flings.
Well, some of them sort of flung a bit further than others.
Stephen, shall we talk about this?
So, there's no...
The blood link to dad is...
I'm like Andrew...
or Alfie, or...
..any of them.
If it helps, I didn't know about any of this. Although, it might
explain why the two of us have never fully connected.
You know?
TV PLAYS IN BACKGROUND
The tablets he's on now tend to sulk him a bit,
but they said he sort of needs sulking.
It's a benign sulk. Right.
It's Allison, love.
Hi.
These two people want to escape to the country
and this man is helping them escape.
Wow, it's a good show.
Did you have a pizza with Andrew?
I said you should go to Sergio's with Andrew, I didn't mean it.
No. I didn't go, that didn't happen.
Maybe all of this is bluffing and switcheroos,
and everything I know is lies.
Or maybe everything I know is true, but I think it's a lie,
or another whole level up from that,
which is too difficult to think about.
I'm really sorry, Stephen, that you got overloaded and shorted out.
I'm fine. I've stopped drinking.
Mum got me an exercise bike. It's all good.
Just wanted to say a very quick hi, see how you are.
I'm running Juliet to the airport - she's going back to France.
Homesick. I miss my mother.
Safe travels.
How are you? I'm tired.
Don't you worry, Stephen. You just get well.
Andrew can run the business.
He can be in charge.
You just rest, love, no hurry. No.
No hurry. We'll look after you, that's what families do.
Right, I will leave you guys to it.
I've left the dog in the car and she still a shit grenade.
See you later.
Should we...? Juliet?
Oui? Wouldn't your mum have been prosecuted anyway for letting
a drunk person drive her car?
I don't follow.
If she knowingly let Andrew drive her car while he was intoxicated,
isn't that an offence in France?
No, it isn't. We don't have that law.
Hey, I do need to get going, plane to catch.
Bye-bye, Stephen. Get well.
Oh, when you're feeling a bit more human, I'll take you out to eat.
I had a lovely pizza at Sergio's recently -
really intimate vibe there -
you'd love it.