All language subtitles for ITL

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Dad!

Shh!

You're not getting many, are you?

Five seconds.

Cold?

Hungry.

I know.

I'll take you back.

Who do you love the most
in all the world, Jimmy?

You, Dad.

Always, Jimmy, promise? Always.

I promise.

So we went back.

He told the police where to find us.

He said he wanted us
to spend some time together,

to be together.

They put me in
another children's home

and sent Dad back to prison.

We could have stayed there
more than those eight days.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

I wrote down a son,
which may seem flippant to you,

- but it really was important to me.
- Yes.

And walking across the street here,
I noticed there's--

How does your wife feel about this?

I'm sorry. My wife?
No, I'm not married.

Oh, I see.

Do you have to be married
to adopt a child?

No, but it's usual.

It's usual, but it's not, uh...

It's not obligatory.

- Oh, well...
- Yes, right, yes.

Uh, look, may I ask you

to take some of these leaflets?

They could be of help to you.

Do your neighbors know
about this ambition of yours?

Well, I thought I'd wait

until I'd reached the stage
of being taken seriously.

Does it matter to you
what they might think?

Well, they'll have to know.

If I'm successful,
they'll be the boy's neighbors, too.

On a scale of 1 to 10,

what would you estimate
is your degree of security

with your masculine role?

Sorry?

Are you a "cuddler"
or a "touch-me-not"?

You do realize that,
as a single man,

you'll only be offered the older,

most difficult to place,
emotionally disturbed boy?

Very well.

The department will allot
someone to assess you

- in your own home.
- Someone?

Me, probably.

We're a bit short-staffed
at the moment.

My name is Graham John Holt.

I am a single man, aged 42,

attempting to adopt a 10-year-old boy.

And to this end,

I have been asked
to write about myself

as honestly as possible.

Since my mother's death
18 months ago,

I have been postmaster

at this village subpost office,

where I have lived all my life.

The stroke my father suffered

has been made more
complicated by depression

following Mother's death.

She was a local girl.

Dad came from the north.

They were a devoted couple

who had hardly spent
a night away from each other.

7:45, I take Dad's breakfast to him.

I usually try him
with a little conversation.

They said at the hospital

I should keep doing that
and not give up.

If there's someone
in the phone box across the road,

I will name the person

and speculate on whom
the call might be to.

He never replies.

Cornflakes.

8:59 on the dot,
I take up position

behind the reinforced
counter screen.

No one has held me
at gunpoint as yet.

Good morning.

Lynn, my part-time helper,

lives in a caravan
with her four children.

Is that a hot water bottle

you've got under
your coat, Elsie Needham,

or has that excuse
of a husband of yours

still not perfected
the art of safe sex?

Married bliss.

Doesn't it make you
want to throw up?

Hello, Edward.

How are you today?

Is there anything we can do
to make you more comfortable?

Does he know where he is?

I have no idea.

Would I be right in thinking

that there's a fair
amount of bitterness

between the two of you?

Depends on what you think
constitutes a fair amount.

I don't consider myself
crippled by it.

Just a little touchy
on the subject.

I hope the house isn't
always as tidy as this.

Can I see it looking
a bit more lived in next time?

I'm not from the health
and safety inspectorate, you know.

And it is a 10-year-old boy

you're hoping to have
living here.

Mm. I'm not as young as
you think, by the way.

Nobody's allowed to do this job
until their balls have dropped.

Which reminds me,
you need a support system.

Sorry?

One which the adoption panel
will consider viable.

Support means friends.

If you haven't got any,
get some fast.

And kids.
You need experience with kids.

Babysitting, youth clubs,

Boy Scouts, dib, dib, dib.

Aha.

What have we here?

It was my mother's,
for hair clips.

Have you ever had a girlfriend?

Elsie Bartlett.

What happened?

Well, we never seemed

to find anything
to say to each other.

She married
Champion the Wonder Horse.

- Mmm, lucky girl.
- No, that was--

That was his nickname
when we were at school.

I need to know what happened

to send you scuttling
inside your shell.

I mean, for God's sake,

what have you been doing
with yourself sexually

since you were 15?

No more than what's usual,
I suppose,

for a person of my age
and background.

D.I.Y.?

If that's
what you want to call it.

Why don't you put yourself about a bit?

Masturbation's so unfriendly, gray.

Even in my busy schedule,

I've managed to fit in
one good screw a fortnight.

I do have a small bit of news,

if you're interested.

So, shall we open your life story book

at the "My Third Year" page?

Tell me the news first.

Then will you talk
about what's on that page?

I thought you didn't approve of bribery.

Open the book, please,
and look at the page.

I'm looking.

Well, we think
we might've found out

the name of your
maternal grandparents.

That's your mother's parents.

I know what maternal means,

strange as it may seem.

- Can I close the book now?
- No.

You still haven't said
anything about that page.

What's to say?
You want me to write

their name and then add
a few question mark--

Just read me what's
written on the page.

You're joking!

You don't want to face the past

because that would mean
admitting what happened.

You're nowhere near being
ready to start a new life

with a new family, are you?

- Who's going to stop me?
- You are.

Do you know what I see
when I look at you?

I don't see a 10-year-old.

I see a 6-year-old
who pissed his pants

and is about to burst into tears

so that everyone around him

will say "Oh, shame, poor little Jamie."

You said this news came directly
from the horse's mouth.

From a new social worker
at the prison.

He's managed to convince your father

that if he's willing to give his blessing

to you being adopted,

he can't reasonably
object any longer

to you knowing
your mother's name...

which was Connolly.

Mary Connolly.

Maiden name.

Look, would it be possible

for you to bring those
expressive eyes 'round this way

so that I get the pleasure
of them for a minute, hmm?

Would you like to write her name

in your life story book?

Come on.

"This... is a...

"drawing...

"I did...

"from memory

"of the house where
my parents lived

"when...

"I...

"was born.

"It has...

"five windows

at the front."

Catch the cushion.

The cushion is concentration.

Margery!

Yes?

The cushion is attention,

will to succeed.

Now shout out your own name

and throw the cushion
to someone else.

Tina.

Graham!

Margery!

I hate this kind of thing.

Can't hear you, Janet.

Any children who might--

I say, might-- come your way

will almost certainly
have been picked on.

And before these
sessions are through,

every one of you will have
been given the opportunity

to know just
what that feels like.

Now, sometimes you have
a child of 9 or 10

who's stuck
emotionally at 2 or 3

because he may have
been caught up

in Social Services'
favorite game--

Pass the parcel.

All right, so you
can accept the idea

of a child being emotionally
stuck as an idea...

but can you cope

with a healthy-looking
10-year-old

who's wetting, soiling,
crying, biting one minute

and giggling maniacally the next?

Empathize.

Feel as the child feels.

Remember, the idea of permanence

is too frightening for some children,

like stepping into the unknown.

They've never, ever experienced it.

Always lose one.

In fact, we've lost four.

Oh. But not you?

No second thoughts?

You still like children, hmm?

Very much.

Though I'm not sure
I could eat a whole one.

I've sent someone to find him.

Don't expect too much, will you?

If you agree...

I'd like to give you a proper home,

and, um,

look after you.

I think it's time your
life was a bit easier...

and a bit happier.

Do you understand?

We could, uh,
we could think of it

as a kind of partnership.

I-- I want a son,

and... you need a--

What I mean is,
you-- you need somebody,

some one person to care about you.

A partnership will only work
if it's what you want, James.

Excuse me.

Who do you love most
in the world, Jimmy?

You, Dad.

Always, Jimmy, promise? Always.

Never break it.
Pain of death.

I promise.

I was beginning to think you'd, um,

what is it they say?
Done a runner.

But you hadn't, had you?

Well, um,

I didn't think you wanted
more food, so I--

You didn't eat much.

Is that because you're as...

nervous as I am?

I see.

I suppose that's it, really, isn't it?

I've chosen you,

but in order for it to
be an equal partnership,

I'd have to be the person
you would choose.

I'd expect you to look after me

when I'm old and decrepit.

You do realize
that's the only reason

I'm doing this, don't you?

What kept you
so long in the toilet?

Can't you guess?

Thank you.

Courting?

Are we?

Just a friend, Mrs. Hawkins.

You know, you don't think
standing there

in that clean white shirt
fools anybody?

Why, you ought to be
out with company

and enjoying yourself.
It's only natural.

See you tomorrow,
Mrs. Hawkins.

Yes, I hope so.

Watch your step.

Oh, I'm very careful
with steps, you know.

It's a funny thing.
I fell down so much.

You haven't told them yet.

Well, if you live in a village,

you don't tell people
things too early.

Cautious bugger.

I have to know, uh...
be sure it'll happen.

Nothing's for sure in this life, gray.

Right now, you're not even a candidate

to adopt my stick insect.

I want to know
about your childhood.

Well...

I, uh, have the reckoning up
to do, you know.

It's fiddly work.
I have to concentrate.

I'll wait.

You'll have to bear with me.

Um...

ahem, well, you--

There's not much to tell.

I had a spotlessly
sanitized childhood,

with a change of Airtex
support systems every other day.

Leave the light relief to me, gray.

Just the facts.
Your mum and dad,

from the point of view
of their only child.

They were always
touching each other.

I can't remember when
I first began to notice

the looks they exchanged,

full of a private meaning.

Or the constant touching.

Not that I-- I lacked...

I mean, they touched me.

Of course, they touched me, too.

I don't think I lacked
physical contact.

When?

What?

When did they touch you?

Whenever it was necessary.

Whenever...

they felt like it.

Not often, then?

And as a teenager?

Not at all would be my guess.

I was rather
a disappointment to them.

Even when I went disco
dancing on Saturday nights.

He's polishing his brothel creepers.

They're just shoes, Dad.

Ah, he's a one, our Graham.

Isn't he a one, dear?

He's always been a one.

Let's have a look at you, then.

He'll break a few hearts tonight.

I went. I didn't dance.

My parents never understood
that on Saturday nights

one had to be part of a group,

either a couple of opposite sexes

or a small group of the-- the same sex.

After a while, I stopped
going inside the disco.

I did crosswords in the car,

then endured a cross-examination
when I got home.

Hi, Mum, Dad.

Did you speak to anyone?

Any nice girl?

You could bring home to tea
to meet your mum and dad?

Did you enjoy yourself?

You're only young once.

When I was in my 30s,

my parents decided
that I'd missed my moment,

so I was allowed to stop going...

to town on Saturday nights.

And then she died.

You make it sound sudden.

It took five years.

I suppose I grew up during that time.

Rather a delayed growing up.

...Father, to raise us from the dead...

I arranged the funeral.

Dad... wasn't making much sense.

His hands were like injured birds

looking for a safe place to roost.

So, um, I took her place...

in the kitchen...

behind the counter.

Mum and Dad had never seemed
separated from each other,

but he and I were separated.

Dad, please.

Please...

don't.

It's all right, Dad.

It'll be all right.

Dad!

Dad, I'm here.

Oh, it's a scrapbook really, isn't it?

Well, that's one way of describing it,

but, for obvious reasons,
we don't call what, uh,

with a little help from us,

the children put together
about themselves...

scrapbooks.

Oh, well, no, no.

Mine's just a photograph album.

That's not even a scrapbook.

Who took the pictures?

My dad had a timer.

He'd set it
and then run around and join us.

This one's overexposed.

You look like three ghosts.

We were a very ordinary family.

I think it probably takes
flair and initiative

to be a ghost.

You might have been ordinary once,

but you're not now.

Not many unmarried men
want to adopt.

Have you always lived
in the same house?

Afraid so.

And gone to the same school?

Two schools.

Um, primary and comprehensive.

I've been to six schools so far.

I'd have thought
you won a scholarship

to a private school or something.

No, I told you no flair.

What sort of things did you
do when you were my age?

I kept my head down,
I suppose. I--

Nothing very exciting.

Is what's in there exciting?

It's more disturbing than exciting.

That's what they say I am-- disturbed.

What do you say?

I like this one.

It's you when you were my age.

You were on a beach.

You look like a right tearaway.

May I see it?

I was on holiday
along with my father.

It was the only time

he and I were ever alone
for any length of time.

Only time he and I
were ever really close.

I'm sorry.

I'd forgotten about the picture.

I really am very sorry.

We laughed a lot that week.

I suppose it was the feeling

that we were doing something secret

and slightly wicked.

I felt important, almost needed.

Listen.

West Indian Sea.

We'll take it home

to remind us of the fun we had.

It was the best time of my life.

It was the happiest I've ever been.

I cried.

So I heard.

Isn't it usual to phone
before you visit?

Sometimes I do.
Sometimes I don't.

I like to catch people unawares.

Anyway, there's no point now.

Why?

I told you.

I cried in front of the child
I was hoping to adopt

and his-- what's it called?
His key worker.

Best thing you could have done.

Now they're both crazy about you,

which they certainly weren't before.

Better start getting yourself prepared

for a weekend visit.

It's been suggested
that I put you in a home.

They say that if I'm right

about what you feel for me,

if you can still feel emotions--

And I don't know.
I just don't know--

But if you can...

the sense of being beholden to me

must be very painful for you.

I just can't be sure
about any of this, can I?

I dearly wish

you had some way
of giving me your opinion.

I'll get your breakfast.

Can I have a word?

His father's had another stroke

and been taken into hospital.

I guess your first visit's

going to be delayed
for a couple of weeks.

Wait! Wait!

I am waiting. We've stopped.

We're here.

Stage fright?

If you like.
I've been here before.

I know.

But this is important, Jimbo,

and I think it's what you want.

Look, he's there waiting for you.

Get out of the car.

I'll be back to collect you after tea.

Hello.

Hello.

Um, first off, I thought we'd,
um, look around,

get used to the geography.

In there is my house, but, um...

on this side is the post office.

All right. Okay. Bye.

- Hello, Mrs. George.
- Hello.

Thank you.

Um,

this is Lynn, my helper.

Lynn, James.

Hello.

We'll go into the house now.

It's not very big.

Living room.

I thought we'd have tea
in here today,

though the kitchen's more usual.

Living room. Said that.

And, uh, kitchen.

You'll be seeing quite a lot of that.

We don't need--
And we can go upstairs.

There might be something upstairs
that would interest you.

Watch your step.

It's your room.

Where's your father?

He got sicker
and needed to be somewhere

where they could give him
proper medical care.

In a hospital?

Well, yes, hospital, yes.

Was he sent there because of me?

Would they have let me come here

if he hadn't been put away?

Possibly not.

Although the number
of single men

who apply to adopt

can be counted
on the fingers of one foot.

You only have to look
across this table

to see they must be scraping
the bottom of the barrel.

Overdone it, haven't I?

You know, they call this
the honeymoon period.

Paper hats?

No.

Perhaps not.

Have you thought yet
what you'd like to call me?

I thought Graham would be best

if you feel you can manage that.

There is a chance.

Yeah, but, look,
don't raise your hopes.

'Round and 'round the garden,

like a teddy bear.

'round and 'round the garden,

like a teddy bear.

One step, two step.

Tickle you under there.

- It's not my fault.
- When do you see him?

- It's your own fault.
- When do you see him?

When do you spend
any time at all with him?

I see him as often as I can.

Uh, Maureen,
I'm, uh, Graham Holt.

Um, well, James has decided-- elected--

To remain in the car.

We've had a bit of a row, you see.

I don't think he wants me
poking around in his past,

even under his supervision.

Supervision he's now withholding

by sulking in the car, right?

It's always difficult to know

what to do for the best, isn't it?

Always.

You were, um, his key worker.

His housemother.

Ever mention his real mother?

No. And I've been warned
not to ask about her yet.

Or ever would be my advice.

Told you about the day
I had him pinned to the floor

screaming his head off.

He spat, he bit.

If I'd been wearing makeup,

he probably would have
done himself in.

Been told about his
constant running away?

Always hiding in dark holes.

He's attempted suicide twice.

Yes. I've been given all the details.

Over here!

Christ, look at the state of him.

Tell him I'm deeply hurt
he wouldn't get out of the car

after all we went through.

If he's allowing you

to stand in for his real dad,

you must be special.

Still in prison, I suppose.

Yes. Before everything's final...

we'll be going to meet him.

And whose idea was that?

Well, James'.

Thought it might be.

But the social worker?

Oh, yes. How old's she, 14?

You're being used...

by a manipulative little boy

who wants to get
another glimpse of his dad.

You'll never get to adopt him,

and believe me,
you're well out of it.

The moment those two meet again,

you'll be out on your ear.

How come you used to like her

when women tend not
to be your cup of tea?

Perhaps she's a bit of a lez.

- Sorry?
- Lesbian, butch.

Wasn't she wearing
leather and studs

and looking like
she hadn't slept for a week?

No. She was a bit untidy,
I suppose, but--

There you are, then, aren't you?

Not a proper woman, that's why.

What constitutes
a proper woman, then?

Let me out!

Tits and silk and frills,
makeup that stinks,

and legs that shoot apart

the minute you touch them
with your little finger.

Get off!

Get off. Get off.

You could have turned the radio off,
you know, if it was bothering you.

Nothing bothers me.
It's your radio.

Slow down.

Didn't they warn you

what being a substitute
parent was like?

I suppose I need help.

Who doesn't?

Honeymoon's over!

Really is very good of you.

I was going to do it myself.

Center of attraction
at harvest festival.

Dahlias, chrysanthemums,

Michaelmas daisies.

Look. It looks better.

Be with you in a moment, ladies.

I've been given three opinions so far

of what should be done
with that young man.

I'm thinking of putting
out a suggestion box.

What were they?

None of them included fostering

with a view to adoption,
that's for sure.

- Where is he now?
- Still in his room.

You said you had
his grandparents' address.

Yes, but I can't let you have it.

They don't want to be known.

You said I had
to see as many people

in his life-story book as I could.

As many as will let you see them.

I'll need to know.
In time, he'll need to know.

When that time comes,
I'll need to be able to tell him.

Growing up, aren't you?

Remember,
he's your great-grandfather.

He doesn't know we're coming.

That'll be him.

I better talk to him first
and then call you.

She came here to stay,
you know, very often

when she was a little girl.

I never saw your dad,
just you, just the once.

Oh, you look just like her.

She used to write regular.
Never missed.

I wrote back...

until...

suddenly she wasn't known
at that address.

Oh, we were very close.

Always very close.

That time, when
she stopped writing,

I needed someone to-- some--

I blamed her.

I thought she didn't
want to be bothered.

Uh, things of hers, um...

photos and such...

in a box in that bureau.

You-- You can look if you like.

Take what you want.

Go and see if he's all right.

Never break it. Pain of death.

Want the radio?

O.K.

Can we see your father
next weekend?

If you like.

He could have another
stroke at any time now.

It's most unlikely

he'll ever be allowed home.

Oh. Well, I am sorry.

That is bad news.

And he doesn't seem
too unhappy here with us.

No, no. It's hard to tell, really,

but he seems as happy here

as he ever was at home.

I miss you so much.

We need a tent,

a double and single sleeping bag,

and cookery pans.

What discount
do you give for cash?

My uncle Reuben used
to go camping a lot

until his hernia made rubbing
little sticks together

too painful.

Time you started being
a bit more masterful, gray.

I'm not going to be around

to nursemaid you forever, you know.

I'd better go see what he's buying.

Gray, if he gets you practicing knots,

just remember,

untying them again
is the hard part.

It's good. Come in.

You're not freezing?

I'm not.
You want to come in?

- I don't want to.
- Come on. Why not?

- I'm cold right here.
- No way.

I'm getting frozen
just watching you.

I don't.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah.

I thought you'd lose
your temper with me.

Particularly over that muddle
with the lining.

I've always been clumsy.

Everyone's got to learn.

If you don't turn
that sausage over,

it'll be raw on one side
and burnt on the other.

Funny. I've always thought
of tent people

as being a bit odd-- weird, even--

Overgrown Boy Scouts
or leftover hippies.

Tent people aren't odd.

You ought to learn survival,

all sorts of things--

Eat worms if you have to.

No. Really?

Then you get your night vision,

and you can go on ahead.

You know a lot about it.

I had a good teacher.

If you'd waited,

we could all have gone together.

It was his school holidays.

I had to do something with him.

No fun for me having him

for a full week on my own.

Terrible room, horrible food.

And you know what's it's like

trying to keep him amused?

Are you cold?

You talked in your sleep.

What did I say?

Nothing sensible.
Just words.

What have you done to yourself?

A branch hit me.

That looks painful.

Just missed your eye.

Must have given you
an hell of a twang.

Go get the first-aid kit
from the tent

and put some
antiseptic cream on it.

Kiss it better, please.

Do it properly.

How is properly?

Longer, harder.

Got to be a long kiss
to make it better.

Is that better?

Do you love me?

Yes, very much.

Too much for my
own good, I expect.

Were you testing me?

I do test people sometimes.

Now I know why the skylark
sings like she does.

Where's the village?

Village?

Over that hill.

Did you know that the moon

moves further away from the earth

by about a foot every 20 years?

Huh. Is it something we said?

Hey!

Ha ha ha ha!

What does big brother Eddie say

about you interesting
yourself in little boys?

It's not a question
of little boys, Uncle Turpin.

There's only one,
and Jamie came on the scene

after Dad had his first stroke,

so Dad couldn't voice an opinion.

Ha ha ha ha!

Well, you picked a right sulker.

I doubt even a pound
of Everton Mints

could put a smile on that fizzog.

Jamie wanted to meet you.

He's catching up on my family.

Is that right?

I'm sorry I didn't get down
to your mother's funeral.

I were a bit indisposed, meself.

You and she
were never very close.

Couldn't stand the woman.

Why not?

Hey! Ha! It speaks!

Hoo! Ha ha ha!

Ho ho ho ho! Ho ho ho!

It not only utters,

it asks bloody cheeky questions.

It seemed a fair question to me.

It was all that lovey-dovey stuff
that used to sicken me.

They were a devoted couple.
They showed it.

You mean she convinced him

that she'd go to pieces
if he strayed

even as far as the end
of the garden

to do a widdle on his own.

Does this one cry?

Not as far as I know.

Pity. I like watching
little boys cry.

Got me attending school
regular, did that.

Your grandma used
to see me to the gate

with me dinner money
every Monday,

and she'd say to me,

"See how many you can upset,

and don't be late home!"

Hadn't you better forgive him...

before he dies on you
and it's too late?

Always did reckon you took
after your mother,

even though I had her
worked out all wrong.

It weren't her that didn't want kids.

It were him. Him.

Couldn't bring himself
to poke the fire properly.

Something to do with the war,

I don't know.

Well, that would be why

he was always a bit cool with you.

Bags first pee!

I'll just give my bike
a bit of exercise, okay?

Don't be long.
I'll put the kettle on.

Yes!

Hi!

Take a breath.

Take a breath before you drink.

I have a letter for you.

It's from your father.

He wrote to me, too.

He wished us luck.

He referred to you as Jimmy.

I didn't think you'd like
to be called that.

You'll want to read your letter

in private, I expect.

Perhaps you're right.

Why not read it in your room?

Bernard said I should be
with you when you read it.

I know it's private,
but if it upsets you,

I want to be close by.

Get out of my way, please.

Dear Jimmy,

They tell me
that there's someone

who wishes to adopt you

and that they trust this man,

and you seem to get on
well with him.

In an ideal world,
Jimmy, my love,

we would be together.

No one would stop me
from being your father.

Never show weakness, Jimmy.

If people sense it,

they just take what
they want from you,

and they disappear.

Please, Jimmy,
you must understand

that none of what's
happened is your fault.

You're not to blame, Jimmy.

Please remember that.
I'm the one at fault,

the one who has failed
his most sacred duty

to be a good father.

One day, when you're old enough

to understand
what forgiveness is,

I will need all you can spare.

I love you most.

Always, Jimmy.
Promise. Always,

Your father.

Will you come home now?
It's late.

Come inside.

You cannot stay out here all night!

Get off me!

Get off!

Anger scares me.

It's an illness,
and we don't have to look far

to see who I've caught it from.

Jealousy cripples people, Jamie.

It makes them behave badly,

but we can't allow
everything to fall apart

just because you've heard
from your--

If I say I understand
how you feel,

well, that's just words
because I don't know, do I?

I haven't read your letter.
I don't know what's in it,

but I want to understand
what you feel.

I want desperately to know
what you think about

while you stand there
watching me.

All I can say is, Jamie,

unless you can speak to me,
unless you say something,

unless you can share
something with me,

I don't know--

There's food if you're hungry.

I-- I could make you a sandwich.

Tea seems rather a long time ago.

I have a father.

Just because... he's in prison

doesn't make anyone else my father.

His letter doesn't say anything about us

going to see him in prison.

You can't adopt me
unless I see him first.

You know that, don't you?

Yes. I realize that was
part of the bargain

you were willing to make.

There is something more
in this adoption for you

than the visit
to your father, isn't there?

Are you sure
you want me to read it?

Wouldn't it be best to wait

and think about it for a while?

It's only fair you should understand

why you can't ever take his place.

Why don't you ask
for the butter if you want it?

That's enough of that.

Go to your room.

He won't look at me.
He doesn't talk.

I've insisted he says thank you.

He says it to the ceiling
or to the fireplace.

It's been going on
three weeks now.

I don't know why he continues
with the visits.

Every day I expect a phone call
from the children's home

to say he's decided
he doesn't want to go on

with the adoption.

Do you want to go on with it?

I suppose I must.

Otherwise, I'd pull out myself.

But you're not sure.

Well...

everything was fine
until the letter.

What did the one you got say?

Oh, nothing.

And what did the one
Jamie got say?

Hah. Everything.

It was a very fair, very...

honest, very loving,
devastatingly moving letter.

You answer it.

Hello.
Pileth Post Office.

It's the hospital.

My father died on Thursday morning.

So I may not be very good company.

I wasn't sure whether to, uh...

ask you to give this weekend a miss.

Perhaps I should have.

I'm sorry.

You'll be all right.

I promise.

It won't be long.

I was always
a disappointment to him.

I don't think so.

I never knew...

what they really wanted of me.

Was there never a time, ever?

Depends on what you mean by "a time."

Didn't you ever love anyone?

I don't know.

Maybe.

Hi.

Whatever it was,

she was right out of my class.

It would never have worked.

Go to sleep now.

I'll still be here.

Whether the adoption goes through or not

doesn't depend on me.

But in the meantime,
James is coming up for 11,

and he'll be changing
schools anyway.

And if you adopt him,

he'll be going to your local school.

Silly to make a new start twice.

So we're recommending
that, in the meantime,

you should foster James
with a view to adoption.

Which means?

He comes to live with you.

Look. There's the new boy.

Germ warfare.

That's why the Conservative lost.

- His name was Jeremy Anthrax.
- So sorry.

I don't want to interrupt anyone.

I'm sure you have
lots to talk about.

Who'd want to vote for a name

that sounds like a cough sweet?

I just happen to be
in a teensy bit of a hurry.

It's the dry cleaning, is it?

I believe I did tell you, Mrs. Hilliard,

the delivery's not till Thursday.

Please don't apologize.
It's quite all right.

When one's used
to a 24-hour service...

Oh, I was going to look
at some knitting wool,

but if everybody's in a rush.

Oh, Lizzie, look at the wool.

No. I don't want anybody inconvenienced.

I'll come back tomorrow.

Lizzie.

No. You haven't got time for it.

"Hilliard.

Hilliard dry cleaning."

Be with you in a moment.

I'm Jimmy's father.

You'd better come inside.

They've released you early?

It's just one less
death certificate to write out.

Where's Jimmy?

He's at school.
He'll be back at 4:30.

Doing well there, is he?

Pretty well.

Jimmy's been there only a month.

Been trying to work out a way

where I could get a look at him
without him seeing me.

No.

Sorry?

It won't do.
That's not the way.

What, um...

what... is it?

It's AIDS.

Do you mind waiting here
till lunchtime?

I've got the shop to look after.

I've managed
to keep Jimmy thinking

I've been in prison ever since.

You hid out in the woods?

Yeah, but I've been in and out
three times since then.

You know how it is.

Petty offenses...

burglary, nicking cars,
receiving, drugs--

You know, that kind of thing.

I'd like to have seen him,
but it seemed fairer not to.

He thought you were
a mercenary soldier.

Now you'd probably like to know
how long they've given me.

I've got four or five months.

Now, if I could just hang around
somewhere outside the village--

And in a year's time, when someone
has to tell him you're dead?

If I thought you were that selfish,
I'd tell him the truth.

I'd tell him you could come see him

when you were out of prison,
but you didn't.

And I'd make sure
he recognized you.

I'd meet the bus and
point you out to him.

What does it feel like, eh,
holding all the cards?

Now...

here's what we'll do.

You'll move in here.

We'll tell Jamie
what your illness is.

We'll give it its proper name

because he has
the right to know...

that his father only has
a few months to live.

The village doesn't have to know,

though they may guess or find out.

Only the doctor has to know...

and the Hippocratic Oath
should take care of him.

You always like this?

No, never.
I'm not the masterful type.

All right, you kids.

You've got a broody expression,

like a hen with constipation.

Well, don't, 'cause I got the remedy.

We're going camping
this weekend.

It'll be great!

Not this weekend.

Why not?

We have a visitor.

We never have visitors.

Hi, Jimmy.

Who do you love?

The last time I saw you,

I said the next time
we meet will be forever.

There's nothing forever
for me and you, Jimmy.

I came to find you

to make sure you were all right.

You're a credit to me, Jimmy.

You're a grown man, almost.

Graham says I should be

honest with you about my illness.

He said we should spend
the next few months--

The last few months--

Getting to know each other again.

Don't be scared.

Don't look so frightened of me.

Ah, Jesus God.

Please say you're not
frightened of me, Jimmy.

Please.

I'm so sorry.

John...

I'm really sorry.
I'm sorry.

Just give him time.

Jimmy...

Jimmy.

Jimmy!

You just need to give him
a little time, John.

All he needs is time.

Jamie?

Jamie.

Jamie!

Jamie!

Jamie!

It won't take long.

Please promise
you'll be a good boy.

Jamie!

Jimmy, be a good boy
so we can play our game.

Hide there for me, baby.

Hide there for me, baby.

Stop. Wait.
Don't rush. Take time.

Jamie!

Jamie?

Jamie.

Jamie.

Jamie.

Jamie.

Jamie.

Jamie... Jamie... Jamie...

Jamie.

Jamie.

Jamie!

Jamie!

I know where you've gone.

I know where you're hiding.

To have nothing!
To feel...

nothing.

To be nothing!

It doesn't work.
I've tried it.

Why him...

and not me?

We can start... from day one.

And we can go
from good to better.

Anything's possible, Jamie...

except feeling nothing.

That's never possible.

I won't be second best, Jamie.

If it's going to work,

it has to be as father and son.

Take it or leave it.
It's up to you.