All language subtitles for Goodnight.Mister

Take your hands out of your pockets.

Sorry about that.

This is London. You will now hear
a statement by the Prime Minister.

I am speaking to you

from the Cabinet Room
at 10 Downing Street.

This morning,
the British Ambassador in Berlin

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.

Give them an inch, they take a yard.

Excuse me.

Oh, um... Mr Oakley?

I thought I spotted you at the back there.

You've heard our choirmaster,
Walter Wingate, has been called up?

No.

Which does present us with a problem.

Oh.

I have it on good authority
that you're something of a musician yourself.

I used to play the organ,
if that's what you mean.

Doesn't mean I know about choirs,
or would want to.

We all have to do our bit, you know.
It's your duty.

When I need you to tell me
what my duty is, Mrs Ford,

I'll let you know.

At least tell me
you'll think about it, Mr Oakley.

I'll think about it.

Now, wait here.

Well?

You realise I am the Billeting Officer
for this area.

What's that to do with me?

William Beech's mother
will only let him be evacuated

to someone religious
or who lives near a church.

The Home Office says
it is obligatory to take one.

I'm sorry,
but he just has to go somewhere.

You'd best come in, then.

Come on.

Take your mac off.

Look...

if you've had enough, leave it.

So, where are you from?

London.

Look, er... I have to go out.

You all right for a bit on your own?

- Yeah.
- Right.

Have a look outside, if you want.

I'm not having him. And that's that.
What do I know about kids at that age?

Excuse me, Mr Oakley.

You have got him, whether you like it or not.

And if you don't,
you'll have to lump it, won't you?

For what it's worth, I wasn't happy
about leaving the child with you.

But it's a case of needs must, Mr Oakley.

There's not a spare bedroom
going in the entire village.

Then try another village.

That is out of the question.

We all have to put our shoulders to the wheel,
Mr Oakley. Even you.

There is a war on, you know.

Mr Oakley, about the choir practice...

Yes, I've said I'll try and be there.

Hello, you're one of the London lot,
aren't you?

- Yes, Miss.
- A regular wild bunch, too, I've heard.

- What's your name, then?
- William Beech.

Well, William Beech,

I expect I'll be seeing you in my class shortly.

And it's not Miss, it's Mrs.

Mrs Hartridge, all right?

- Who are you billeted with?
- He lives there.

Oh... you mean Tom.

Well... Goodbye, William.

Get away!
Get away, or I'll kill you!

We'll have no talk about killing.
All right?

I reckon we've got enough of that already.

Now, as far as the dog's concerned,

it's my dog, that.

His name's Sammy.

And he's soft as my pocket, really.

So, don't you go
taking no more sticks to him.

Do you hear?

Well, now what?

Well, surely he never thought...

Dear Sir or Madam.

I asked if Willie could go and stay with
God-fearing people.

So I hope he has.

Like most boys, he's full of sin.

But he has promised to be good.

But just in case, I've put the belt in.

Good night, then.

Good night, Mister.

You can... call me Tom.

Good night, Mr Tom.

Sorry, Mister.

Get them wet things off.

And the jacket.

Now, here's the post office.

If you just get a stamp,

and post this for me,
while I have a quick word with the doctor.

Your mum won't be able to read that.

Yes, she will.
She's got one of these, too.

And this way,
you get twice as much on.

Thank you.

You see... when I got him up this morning,
I found he'd wet the bed.

A not uncommon occurrence, Tom.

The child has been ripped
out of his home by the roots,

and dumped in some alien place.

What am I supposed to do about it?

- What we all have to do these days.
- Oh?

The best we can
under the circumstances.

So, what's your name?

William. William Beech.

What's yours?
Zacharias Wrench.

My parents' idea of a joke, I think.
But you can call me Zack.

- Who've they put you with?
- Mr Tom.

I'm with the doctor and his wife.
My parents' friends.

It'll come in handy, I suppose,
if I'm ever ill.

- All right? Come on, then.
- See you around.

Yeah. Bye.

Good lads.

Have you got your Anderson up yet?

It's been delivered.

I'll send the lads round,
give you a hand.

- I can manage, thanks.
- Who said you couldn't?

You still a member of
that knitting circle at the church?

Of course.

Only, um...

you'll have heard I've been landed with
one of these evacuees.

Talk of the village.

I'll bet.

Only, the only clothes he's got
are what he's standing up in, you see.

You haven't got to clothe them, you know.

I wasn't planning to.

It's just that...

I was wondering if, between you,

you could rustle him up a couple of things.

I'll think about it.

What's all this?

My mam sent 'em for young William.

There's no way our George
can get into 'em any more.

Right, thanks.

- See you later, Mr Oakley.
- Will you?

Give you a hand with the Anderson.

Oh, yeah.

For me?

Well, who else?

Well, come on. Let's see if they fit.

Never mind.

Come on, then.

Now, I thought
you were supposed to be helping.

- My new shirt'll get dirty.
- Then take it off.

Go and change it, then.

Aren't you roasting
in that jumper, William?

- No.
- He's got a temperature, hasn't he?

Sweating it out of himself,
if you must know.

Come on, chop chop!
Want this finishing by tonight.

I'm going over to the church for a bit.

- Back in about an hour, all right?
- All right.

♪ Jerusalem

♪ And did those feet

♪ In ancient times

Just a minute! Just a minute!

I mean...

Have I been wasting my time
these last months, or what?

It's uplifting people want,
not burying!

Now, start again.
Let's put a bit of beef into it this time.

Some sort of problem,
is there, Mr Oakley?

Nothing I can't sort out.

If left to get on with it.

Right.

Now...

this time I want to hear you.

All right?

So!

♪ And did those feet

♪ In ancient time

♪ Walk upon England's mountains green

♪ And was the holy lamb of God

♪ On England's pleasant pastures seen

♪ And did the countenance divine

♪ Shine forth upon our clouded hills

♪ And was Jerusalem builded here

♪ Among those dark satanic mills

♪ Bring me my bow of burning gold

♪ Bring me my arrows of desire

♪ Bring me my spear

♪ Oh, clouds unfold

♪ Bring me my chariot of fire

♪ I will not cease from mental fight

♪ Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand

♪ Till we have built Jerusalem

♪ In England's green and pleasant land

William?

Have you no more sense
than to be out here at this time of night?

- Do you want to catch your death?
- You said we had to finish it tonight.

What?

All right, come inside, then.

Come on.

Don't you ever touch that instrument again
without my permission.

Is that clear?

Look...

I'm going fishing this afternoon,
if you want to come.

Need any help?

I think I can just about manage,
thanks.

- Is Will about?
- Will?

William.
Only, I think Willie sounds silly, don't you?

So, is Will in?

We were just off out, actually.

Oh. Going somewhere nice?

Fishing.

Really? Can I come?

Afternoon.

Zack, is your dad really an actor?

And my mum.

Course, Dad's an auxiliary farmer now.

Wow!

Mrs Hartridge's husband's a pilot.

I wish I was.

Well, cheer up.

It's only school you're going off to, you know,

not your own hanging.

Got everything, have you?

Right.

Off you go, then.

Will!

I'm sorry, William.

It's the door just across the hall.

William?

Now, what's the matter?

They put me with the babies.

Can we have a word?

Of course, Mr Oakley.

William tells me
you've put him in the babies' class.

That's right, Mr Oakley.

Would you mind telling me why,
when all his friends are in your class?

Because they can read and write.

Now, join up the dots,

and see what you end up with.

Never mind.

Now... try again,

only, this time... take your time.

Don't try stabbing it to death.

There you are.

Have another go.

It's bad, isn't it?

No, it isn't.

Not bad at all.
Now, just get on with the next one.

That's it.

There you are, you see.
You've written your own name!

Oh, Mr Tom!

Now...

draw a line under that and get it copied.

Before you do,
just you draw me another line.

Them's straighter
than I can do with a ruler.

Wherever did you learn to do that?

Just did it.

Go on, then. Get it copied.

- Won't I go to hell?
- Hell?!

You go to hell if you copy, don't you?

It's cheating.

Whatever lunatic told you that?

Never mind... Just do it.

And if a chap with horns and
a pitchfork comes looking for you,

we'll blame me, all right?

The Tinderbox.

A soldier was
marching along the high road,

right, left... right, left.

And everybody used to mock him

and make fun of him.

The eldest son wanted
to go and cut wood.

The kingdom was...

cer... cer... cer-tain...

cer-tain-ly... very...

What does it say, Mr Tom?

In loving memory...

of Rachel Oakley,

aged 27 years.

A dearly beloved wife.

Also, John Oakley,

aged 5 years.

A dear son...

now with God.

And did they just die?

No. They caught Scarlatina.

What's Scarlatina?

A disease.

A killer.

At least, in them days.

Two weeks, it was all over,

or so I'm told.

- Why didn't you catch it?
- Because I wasn't here, was I?

No, I was on a ship on convoy duty.

Fighting for king and country,
as they say.

No way of getting home, of course.

In fact, by the time I did,

they was already in the ground.

What was he like - John?

Oh, he was bright as a button.

Sharp as sixpence.

He was naughty sometimes, but...

full of life... to the brim.

In fact, very much like her, really.

Anyway, what's this?

Out here in your 'jamas
and not even dressed yet.

- I wanted to show you something.
- What?

Come on!

Well?

Dry, Mr Tom! It's dry!

Hey, that's great, William!

That's really great!

Somebody's birthday, is it?

Been steaming them open again,
have you, Matthew?

Any from London?

Never noticed any London postmarks.

You do surprise me.

- Two and six?
- This is quality stuff, Mr Oakley.

Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time,
once the war had started,

before the profiteers started
coming out the woodwork.

Thank you.

So this is where you've been hiding yourself.

You do realise your tea's been on the table
for half an hour, do you?

Sorry, Mr Tom.

I should think you are!

♪ Happy birthday to you

♪ Happy birthday, dear William

♪ Happy birthday to you

- Go on, then, blow.
- If you manage to blow them all out,

you you get to make a wish,
only, you can't tell anybody...

Just blow the damn things out, William.

Come on, now. Who wants some more?

Have the very last bun.

Anybody want the last rock cake?

- So, didn't she even send him a card?
- Nothing.

Shame on her.

Now, come on.
Let's have a tune out of you.

Come on, Alice.
You know better than to ask that.

Rachel wouldn't have liked it
rotting away

just cos she's not here to play it any more.

You can't grieve for ever, Tom.

Go on, pop the balloon!

♪ It's A Long Way To Tipperary

♪ ...to Tipperary

♪ It's a long way to go

♪ It's a long way to Tipperary

♪ To the sweetest girl I know

♪ Goodbye Piccadilly

♪ Farewell Leicester Square

♪ It's a long long way to Tipperary

♪ But my heart's right there

Well done, Tom!

Good night!

Oh, and er... this is for you,
as well, by the way.

Nearly forgot to give it to you.
Happy Birthday.

Thanks, Mr Tom.

This has been the best time
I've had in my whole life.

Obviously.

Come in.

Mrs Black said I were to see you,
before I went home.

That's right, William.

I've got a bit of news for you.

Mr Tom! I've been moved up
to Mrs Hartridge's class!

She says I can read and write
good enough now!

It's from your mum, William.

Seems she's not been very well.

Wants you back.

Whoa.

Where've they come from, Mr Tom?

A place called Dunkirk.

Lucky to get out alive, I heard.

Walk on.

Now, don't forget to write.
And, er...

If you do change your mind
about them paintings of yours,

you just let me know
and I'll post them to you, all right?

They belong here with you.

Anyway, they'll still be here
when I get back, won't they?

Course they will.

I will be coming back... won't I?

Of course you will.

Now, you just take
good care of yourself, you hear?

You just... take your time.

You haven't seen your mother
for a few months,

so, it's bound to be a bit awkward at first.

I'll miss you.

You'll make sure he gets off all right.

Don't worry.

Here you are, then, son.
Rise and shine!

Willie?

You look different.

Put weight on.

I'll take that for you.

I'll say what to take and not to take.

So, how are you feeling now?

Fine... I'm fine.

Only, they said you was ill.

Did they?

So... what you got in the bag, then?

Just my things,
and a present for you from Mr Tom.

Mr Tom?

Mr Oakley.
The man I stays with down there.

I don't need charity, thank you!

It's just some bed socks.

Mrs Little, the doctor's wife,
sent some tonic wine.

Wine?! Haven't I told you
about the evils of drink?

It ain't a real drink, Mum, like in a pub.

It's got iron in it,
to help get your strength back.

And what would you know
about what you get in a pub?

Now, when we get home,
I want no noise from you, all right?

Why?

Cos nobody has to know
that you're here, that's why.

And when we get inside,

I've got a surprise for you.

- What's that smell?
- What smell?

Doesn't matter.

Not a dog, is it, this surprise?

What surprise?

The surprise you got for me?

It's over there. In the box.

- It's a baby!
- It's a present from Jesus.

Don't you dare!

A bit of discipline, that's all she needs.

She's just a baby, Mam.

Sit down!

Now!

My God, but isn't my life
bad enough as it is?

Stuck here on my own,
night after night.

Frightened out of my head half the time,
without you starting!

What are you frightened of, Mum?
The air raids, is it?

The air raids.

Look, if we're killed, we're killed.
And that's God's will, right?

So, what are you frightened of, then?

What's going on out there, of course.

Oh, Willie, if you knew...

If you only knew
what's going on out there.

The filth...

The rising tide of filth.

Perhaps you should see somebody, Mum.

Like who?

A head doctor?
That's what you think, is it?

Perhaps I'm off my head,
cos I know what's going on out there?

You just keep a civil tongue in your head,
my lad... or else.

You have brought it back, haven't you?

The belt.

I forgot.

Liar.

Liar!

You left it behind on purpose, didn't you?
Didn't you?

- No, Mum! Honest!
- I can get another. I know a shop that sells 'em.

Get upstairs, out of my sight!

And you can shut up, an' all!

Your favourite.

Certainly got your appetite back, anyway.

Must be all that fresh air, I expect.

Ohh.

Such a beautiful baby you were, though.

Proud as punch, I was.

Wheeling you out in your pram,
sun shining, people stopping.

Stopping just to look at you.

"Where'd you get him from, then, missus?
Heaven?"

Happiest days of my entire life, them, Willie.

Finished?

Mum...

What's this?

My present to you.

It was Mr Tom's idea.

Mr Tom?

I told you.
The man I stay with down there.

Well, go on, open it.

It's where I live down there.

Did you steal this?

I did it myself.

- Liar.
- I did, Mum. Honest I did.

And these. Where did these come from?
Did you steal these as well?

They were presents
from Ginnie and Carrie.

Girls? You've been mixing with girls?

But they're nice, Mum. They all go to church,
except Zack, of course.

- He's my best friend.
- Why doesn't he go to church?

They ain't got one there,
a synagogue, I mean.

Synagogue?

That's their church - the synagogue.

He's Jewish? You mean you've been
consorting with Jews down there?

What's wrong with Jews?
Like Zack says, Jesus was a Jew, wasn't he?

Blasphemer. Blasphemer!

You know what we do
with blasphemers in this house!

No, Mum, please!

Not that! Please, Mum! Not that!

♪ It's A Long Way To Tipperary

Across the city, German raiders
leave blazing, destroyed buildings.

Overhead, I can hear the pulsing drone
of the circling bombers.

Below ground, in the shelters,

men, women and children listen to the sounds
of bombs and anti-aircraft fire.

Mr Oakley!

Still no news, then?

Afraid not.

Sorry, Tom.
Still nothing from London, I'm afraid.

What's it been? Weeks, now, eh?

A bit of bad news for Mrs Hartridge,
up at the school.

That young husband of hers,
the one who flies Spits...

Missing... Believed dead.

Ah.

Contact him?

Only, I thought I'd have heard from him
by now, you see.

It's been over a month.

It tends to happen like that, you know.

Once they get back
into the home environment.

And, after all, only natural
for a boy that age, I suppose,

to prefer to be with his own.

Everybody down in the shelter!

Lost, are we, sir?

Looks like it.

Never mind about that now.
Let's get down in the shelter. Come on.

Come on!

Come on, hurry up!

I'm sorry, mate.
No dogs allowed in the shelter.

So what am I supposed
to do with him, eh?

Leave him out here
to be blown to bits?

Oh, come on, then.

And he definitely didn't run away, you say.

Only, it's happening all the time.

Kids just taking off,
coming back to London.

No question of that.

Look, I just want to make sure
he's all right, that's all.

And you've got an address for him round here,
have you?

Well, tomorrow morning, God willing,
we'll try and find him, shall we?

Young couple, just married.

He was home on embarkation leave.

And are they both...

Oh, yeah.

Bloody, bloody war.

Well, I suppose you'll be wanting
to find this kid of yours, right?

- If it's not...
- Just give me ten minutes, will you?

Of course.

If it's Mrs Beech you want, she's not here.

- Do you know where she's gone?
- Gone to the coast, she said.

And what about the boy?
Did he go with her?

Can't remember ever seeing any boy.

Little lad, ten years old.

Oh, young Willie, you mean!

Evacuated to the country, last I heard.
Just as well.

Quiet boy, no friends.
Bullied a lot. Sitting target, really.

I mean, this house - a real house of mystery,
you know.

You don't half hear some funny things
sometimes.

What sort of things?

Well, whimpers sometimes.

Bumps.

Bumps?

Like somebody humping furniture about.

People do move furniture about.

At three o'clock in the morning?

So, when did you last see her?

About a week ago. I nearly dropped dead
when she condescended to speak to me.

Talk about la-di-da.

There's nobody in there, Rover.

Not like him to make
a fuss over nothing, though.

Smell something, do you?

Look, I'll see if I can find a copper.

Oi! Hang on a minute!

Cor! What died in here, then?

Quiet, Sam!

Here, let me.

Phooer!

God almighty.

What the hell's been going on here?

All right, let me have the baby, son.

Get away!

Let me.

What's his name, then, William?

It's an 'er.

I call her Trudie.

Trudie.

That's a nice name.

Are you going to
let me have a hold, then?

Why didn't you come?

I kept calling for you,
but you didn't come.

Are you related to this child?

- No.
- Then who are you?

- The one who found him.
- Just in time, I'd say.

All right, take him to Children's
and get him a tetanus.

What the hell is that dog doing here?

Sorry, you will have to
get that animal out of here.

I won't be far away.
Don't you worry.

Tom! How is he?

Any news about the mother?

No, but it'll be prison for her, I reckon,
when they catch up with her.

And is there a husband?

There was once, apparently.

Died in an alley, years ago.
Choked on his own vomit.

His idea of family life was getting drunk,

coming home
and using her as a punch bag.

The kid, as well, I shouldn't wonder.

So, you'll be going back home, will you?

Not without William, I won't.

Argh-h-h!

Stop it!

Keep an eye on him, will you? Thanks.

He's in deep shock, Mr Oakley.

We've had to keep him well sedated,
I'm afraid.

Well...

It saves combing, I suppose.

How are you feeling now?

I had a nightmare.

They stuck this needle in me.

Can't I come home with you, Mr Tom?

I'm afraid you have to leave now.

Don't go! Stay a bit more.

Now you just concentrate on
getting yourself better, all right?

Not something I have a lot of faith in, myself -
drugging them.

You'll be Mr Tom, then.

Tom Oakley.

My name is Stelton.
I'm a psychiatrist.

I work with a children's home.

We feel that he'd benefit
from treatment there.

What sort of treatment?

Psychiatric treatment.

I'd like him to come back home with me.

You aren't related to him, Mr Oakley.

Are there any other relatives
who'd take him in?

That is something
we would have to go into.

And if there aren't?

As I said,
there is the children's home.

Good boy.

I won't be long.

Quiet! Quiet!

Mr Tom,

how did I get here?

I kidnapped you.

Oh.

That's what I did, boy.
I kidnapped you.

I kidnapped you!

I kidnapped you!

They patched you up well
in hospital, William.

Just settle down.
I'll call in again tomorrow, all right?

The sores will soon heal, of course.

It's the wounds inside
we need to worry about.

You do realise that, sooner or later,
they'll come looking for him.

No... They're far too busy
to go chasing evacuees.

Besides, they didn't even know
he was in London. She saw to that.

- Good night, then, Tom.
- Good night, Doctor.

Oh, and er... you will
let young Zack know he's back.

You mean he hasn't been round yet?

No! No! No! No! No!

No! No! Get away!

Hey! Hey!

Hey, hey, hey.
Come on, now. Come on.

It's him, Mr Tom! It's him!

How are you feeling?

I want to come down.

Yeah, all right.

- Aagh!
- Oh, dear.

That's all right.
All right, get back in.

There we are.

Don't worry... don't worry.

They'll get stronger.

There we are.

Don't you ever knock?

Sorry.
So, can I see him to day, Mr Oakley?

When he's had his breakfast.

He takes ages. You know what he's like.
He chews everything.

- I thought we all did.
- Not everybody.

I just take a quick bite and swallow.

Mr Tom?

Y-e-s?

Is that Zack down there?

Go on, then. And take that up.

Thanks, Mr Oakley.

What's been happening
while I've been away?

Not a lot. Been dead boring, really.

Oh, except Mrs Hartridge's husband
got shot down and killed.

At least, they never found him.
But she had the baby OK.

Baby?

- You did know she was having a baby?
- No.

You saw how big she'd got!

You do know about sex and stuff,
don't you?

Only it's something dirty
and you go to hell for it.

That's rubbish, Will.

Dad says sex is a man and a woman's way
of showing how much they love each other.

We wouldn't be here
if it wasn't for sex.

But can't a lady have a baby
on her own?

Of course not.
There has to be a man involved.

Right, Zack.
Home time now, I think.

I don't want William overdoing it.

But I can come and see him tomorrow,
Mr Oakley?

Of course you can.

In that case,
I'll see you tomorrow, then, Will.

So, what was all that about, then?

Zack says a lady can't have a baby
without a man.

Oh, yeah?

Is that right?

Yeah.

Trudie's dead, isn't she?

I think you knew that already.

- And I killed her.
- You killed her?

I should have got out. I did try!

- Honest I did!
- Well, of course you did.

Only, you were tied up... Right?

Only, what you have to remember,

is the way she treated you and the baby
was because your mum was sick.

In fact, very sick, I'd say,

to do what she did.

The trouble was,

with this war on, people are so busy
surviving themselves to even notice.

So there was no-one to help.

Now, you tell me something, William.

This nightmare you keep having.

It's always the same one, right?

And it's always the same man.

Who is he, this man?

Just this man.

And what does this man do in your dream?

Just keeps saying I have to go with him.

Hello! What are you doing here?

I've come to see Mrs Hartridge.

She's round the back.

Hello, William.

Now...

This is my Peggy,

who looks just like her dad,
they reckon.

So, how are you feeling now?

I'm all right.

Oh, well.
At least you're back safe and sound, eh?

So... how about a glass of lemonade?

Yeah, please.

Then you just hold on to my Peggy, will you?
While I get it.

That's where my dad's based.

In the East End.

He'll be all right.

Course he will.

I'm afraid we have some bad news for you,
William.

- It's about your mother.
- She don't want me back again, does she?

She's dead, William.

Dead?

I'm afraid she drowned herself, son.

Now, Dr Stelton's here from a children's home
in Sussex.

Lovely place, from what I'm told,
right out in the country.

I'm sure you're going to like it there, William.

I want to stay here, with Mr Tom.

Tell them, Mr Tom!
I want to stay with you!

That's enough of that.

Mr Oakley's in trouble.

- It's a serious offence, kidnapping.
- I weren't kidnapped, I were rescued.

Why doesn't William wait upstairs?

Go on, then. Up you go.

William!

The man in your dream. Is that him?
The one with the moustache?

Right.

This er... children's home
you're on about taking him to...

Oh, yes?

- You're in charge there, are you?
- That's right.

Only, he's been having these nightmares,
you see,

ever since I got him back here.

It's not surprising. After all...

About you, apparently.

Me, Mr Oakley?

That you're going to take him away again.

In fact, he wakes up regularly,
screaming about it.

That bears out what I've been saying.

The lad needs specialist treatment.

What the lad needs is love, Dr Stelton.

Something he hadn't seen a lot of, apparently,
before he came to me.

Are you people really trying to tell me

he'll get more of that where you're on about
taking him to, than here?

Because, if you are,
you're talking a load of rubbish!

Mr Oakley, Dr Stelton is one of the best people
in his field.

And you can take it from me,

like the rest of us, his only concern
is for the boy's own welfare.

Let's get a spot of fresh air,
shall we, Mr Oakley?

It isn't the boy's welfare this is all about, really,
is it, Mr Oakley?

- Isn't it?
- No, it's about you, I'd say. Your welfare.

Me?

A lonely, and from what I hear,
embittered old man,

facing a lonely and bitter old age?

You really think that's the only reason
I want him back?

Just to be company for me
when I'm past it?

Well, isn't it, basically?

No, it bloody well isn't!
And I resent the implication!

Doesn't it bother you at all,

that when you're 70,
he'll still be in his teens?

Of course it bothers me. I'm not stupid!

There's not a lot
we can do about that, is there?

Look, I know it's not an ideal situation,
anything but.

But... well, put it this way,

it's got to be a damn sight more ideal

than your Dr Stelton in there turning him into
some sort of human guinea pig.

Just tell me one thing... Mr Oakley.

Why is the boy
suddenly so important to you?

He's an evacuee, for God's sake.

And one you took violent exception
to having foisted on you in the first place.

- Isn't it obvious?
- Not to me, no.

Nor to Dr Stelton.

Because I love him, of course.

As if he was
my own flesh and blood, I do.

And for what it's worth,
I think he loves me, as well.

And is that really enough,
do you think,

in this day and age?

It has to be,
hasn't it, Mr Greenway?

In this day and age, or any other.

Because if it isn't,

what else is there, eh?

I won't go with them, Mr Tom!

I won't go with them!

- Oh, won't you?
- No, I won't!

Just as well, then, isn't it?

Cos nobody's asking you to.

What?

Come 'ere.

You see that one in the dark suit?

Yeah.

Well, he's from something
called The Home Office.

He reckons, after all the trouble
you've caused,

he don't want you back, thanks.

So...

as long as I adopt you,
all legal and proper, like,

it looks like
I'm stuck with you, don't it?

Oh, Mr Tom!

Mrs Little, can I see Zack?
I've got some really great news to tell him.

Of course you can, William.

He's upstairs... packing.

Packing?

Yes. You see,
he's just had some news himself.

And not very good news, I'm afraid.

I got a phone call from my mum.

They bombed the docks
and my dad was there.

I'm sure he'll be all right, of course.

It'd take more than a German bomb
to stop him.

Only, I have to go and see him.

Just in case he's...

Are they going to bomb us, Mr Tom?

They're saving 'em for London,
I expect.

This is the BBC Home Service.

Here is the news.

Last night's mass air raid on London

is estimated to have been
the heaviest ofthe warso far.

At least 400 people have been killed,
and 1 ,400 seriously injured.

Fires are still burning all over the city,

and many homes in the East End
have been razed to the ground.

The fire and the rescue...

Still no word from Zack, then?

Afraid not.

That poor child.

Stop pushing.

Come along.

Oh... William.

William...

Has anybody any idea
where William is today?

No, Mrs Hartridge.

William?

Y-a-a-a-y!

W-o-o-o!

Y-a-a-a-y!

W-o-o-o!

I hate you, God!

I hate you! I hate you!

I really hate you!

Is William all right, Mr Oakley?

Well...

He's er... still very upset,
of course, but...

Why?

Only that he didn't turn up at school today.

Or rather, he did, then...

Where have you been?

Are you all right?

Yeah.

Up you go and wash, then.

- Tea'll be on the table in five minutes.
- I'm not hungry.

Can we have a word, Doctor?

Of course, Tom. Come in.

Dr Little sent it round for you.

Thought you might like
to learn to ride it.

I'm sure Zack would've wanted you
to have it.

Now, you just come with me for a minute.

Come on!

You think you're the only person
that ever lost anybody?

It's happening to people all over.

This very minute.

And all because some maniac
wants to rule the world.

How do you think I felt, eh,
when it happened to me?

Not just my wife I lost, you know.

She was my best pal, as well.

My very best.

And my lad.

And me not even here.

Except I didn't lose 'em, you see.

Not really.

Because they're still here.

Inside here.

And always will be.

Just like Zack'll be to you.

In every little thing
you'll ever remember about him.

And that is something that
nobody can ever take away from you. Nobody.

Ever.

William! William!

- What's wrong, Mrs Hartridge?
- Nothing's wrong, William.

It's just... Well, I had to tell somebody.

I've just had this telegram about my David.
He isn't dead after all!

He's alive! A prisoner of war.

Isn't that wonderful, William?
Isn't that absolutely wonderful?

Yes, Mrs Hartridge.

Really wonderful.

Y-a-a-a-a-a-y!

Yeah! Yay!

Y-a-a-a-a-y!

Yeah!

W-o-o-o!

Y-a-a-y!

Woo! Yeah!

I can ride, Dad! I can really ride!