All language subtitles for Peaky.Blinders.S02E02.BluRay.x264-SHORTBREHD

TOMMY: What happened to the pub
is Irish business?

You shut your gypsy mouth
and listen to your instructions.

Eamonn Duggan?

POLLY: My son and my daughter

were taken from me
when they were very small.

TOMMY: We're planning an expansion.

I'm taking premises in London.

The Italian gangs and the Jewish gangs
have been at war in London.

The Jews have been having
the worst of it. They need allies.

We take the opportunity
to show our hand.

(GRUNTING)

(LAUGHS)

That arrived an hour ago.

There's no name on it
but it comes from Camden Town.

Well done, Tommy.

Now you're at war with Sabini.

- Ada Shelby?
-No.

Your brother broke the rules.

Sabini.

My face is the last thing
you'll ever see on earth.

(GUNSHOT)

CAMPBELL: See if
the bastard's still alive.

Ripped By mstoll

(PEOPLE SCREAMING)

(BRAKES SCREECHING)

(GUNSHOT)

No! No!

It's all right, Miss Shelby.
We work with Tommy.

We're Peaky Blinders.

(GRUNTS)

My name is not Shelby!

(SOBS)

(DOOR OPENS)

NURSE: Ready for a visitor, Mr Shelby?

No.

CAMPBELL: I'm here on the King's orders.

I'm afraid I must insist.

(DOOR CLOSING)

Ah.

You paid extra for daylight.

The racketeering business
must be booming.

(LAUGHS)

Are you not going to thank me
for saving your life?

Pass me cigarettes?

Three nights ago,

at the co-operative stables
in Montague Street,

there was a murder.

A man named Duggan.

The Oxfordshire constabulary
found his body in a shallow grave.

I need to piss.

Nurse?

I know it was you who carried out
the murder of Mr Duggan.

(SIGHS)

Oh, by the way.

Grace, she went to New York.

A place called, er...

Poughkeepsie.

She's married now.

To a banker. He's rich.

I'm sure she's very happy.

You have been under my microscope
for some weeks now.

I have been observing
every move you make.

And that is why I was on hand
to save your life.

I imagine being shot by a woman
hurts the same as being shot by a man.

Just a bit more shameful.

You know, Mr Campbell,
when I got shot they gave me a medal.

Yeah.

No medal for you I bet.

(CANE THUDS)

Mr Shelby,

our reunion...

...is part of a very carefully
worked out plan,

which has been in place
for some time now.

Every time you lean on that stick
I bet you see her face.

And as a result of the information
in my possession,

I can charge you with murder at any time

and provide
two impeccable Crown witnesses

whose testimony will lead you
directly to the gallows.

(GROANS)

You are on my hook, Mr Shelby.

And from this moment forward...

...you belong to me.

So, get well quickly.

I'll be in touch the moment I hear
you can piss standing up.

Then I will send you your instructions.

-(DOOR OPENS)
-(SIGHS)

(GATE RATTLES)

Curly, you left the gate open?

No, I locked it.
I pinched myself when I did it.

- Get that stuff under cover.
-Yeah.

Hey!

Who goes there?

Tommy?

Curly, get that oil you put on the legs
when they go lame.

Are you fucking mad, Doyle?

The yellow stuff. Go on.

(GROANS)

They said you'd be in for
another three weeks.

I need to get on a boat to London.

Tonight.

(SIGHS)

You discharged yourself?

I'm a fucking
sitting duck in there, Charlie.

Sabini could send a man at any time.

I need to get some things done.

You're burning up.

Here.

Oh, Tommy! That stuff's
for rubbing into fucking horses.

Ha! I am a horse.

If you were a horse, they'd shoot you
with this many broken bones.

Get the black powder, Curly.

- Go.
-Yeah.

The black powder.

You pay for a bloody hospital
and you're using witchcraft?

I need to sleep in the open air
and feel the boat under me, Charlie.

Oh, Tommy.

You're just like your mother.

Do you have a boat here?

Only the January. She's heavy.

London will take four days.

That'll do. Can you spare Curly?

He'll be my doctor.

Then God help you.

You have tobacco, Curly?

And tea and whisky.

We'll have you running around
like a colt.

Ah, get him aboard. I'll fill her up.

(COUGHS)

If I sleep all the way,
it's Camden Town we're heading for.

What business do you have
in Camden Town, Tommy?

Tell Polly she's in charge
while I'm away.

If I don't come back,
tell her she's in charge for good.

(SLOW MUSIC PLAYING)

You hungry yet, Tommy?

You know what, Curly?

I think I am.

Where are we?

Uh, Heathrow.
One more day and we'll be there.

I'll put something in the pan.

Can you steer?

Give it a go.

You're almost there, too, Tommy.
(GIGGLING)

Fucking hell, lads. Calm down.

Put him down, Ollie.

Put him down, mate. He's only little.

You on your own?

Seems so.

Well, you're a brave lad, ain't you?

You want to take a look at my bakery?

We bake all sorts here mate, yeah.

Did you know we bake over
10,000 loaves a week?

Can you believe it?

We bake the white bread,
we bake the brown bread.

We bake all sorts.

Would you like to try some?

Bread?

Yeah?

All right.

What would you like, brown or white?

Try the brown.

Brown, right.

Not bad.

Not bad, eh?

Not bad?

It's fucking awful, that stuff.

The fucking brown stuff
is horrible, it's for the workers.

Yeah.

The white stuff,
now that is for the bosses.

Come look.

Well, I've heard
very bad, bad, bad things

about you Birmingham people.

(TUTTING)

You're gypsies, right?

So what, do you live in
a fucking tent or a caravan?

I came here to discuss business...
(CLEARING THROAT)

...with you, Mr Solomons.

Well, rum's for fun and fucking, innit?

So, whisky, now that...

That is for business.

Let's talk first, eh?

Suit yourself.

They say you had your life
saved by a policeman.

I have policemen on my payroll.

Well, I don't like policemen

because policemen,
they can't be trusted.

Mr Sabini uses policemen all the time.

That's why he's winning
the war in London

and you are losing it.

A war ain't over until it's over, mate.

You were in the war?

(DRAWER OPENS)

I once carried out my own
personal form of stigmata on an Italian.

I pushed his face up against the trench

and shoved a six-inch nail
up his fucking nose

and I hammered it home
with a duck board.

It was fucking biblical, mate.

So don't come in here and sit there
in my chair and tell me

that I'm losing my war to a fucking wop.

That war was a long time ago.

You need to be more realistic.

Realistic, yeah?

Realistic?

Well, if you weren't losing the war,

then you wouldn't have
sent me the telegram.

Really?

You forget your fucking telegram.
The telegram just said, "Hello."

Very simple,
you want to sell me something.

What?

- We join forces.
-Fuck off.

No! Categorical.

Fucking ridiculous.

Mr Solomons.

Your distillery provides
one-tenth of your income.

Protection is another 10%.

And the rest you make
from the race tracks.

I know you keep a gun in the drawer.

I know you keep it beside the whisky.

I know you offer a deal or death.

I know what I'm saying makes you angry.

But I am offering you a solution.

You see, Mr Sabini is running
all your bookies off your courses.

(SOLOMONS CLEARS THROAT)

And he is closing down the premises
that take your rum.

And people don't trust
your protection any more.

You're the bloke
who shot Billy Kimber, right?

You did, you fucking shot him.
That's you.

You fucking betrayed him, mate.

So it'd be entirely appropriate

to do what I am thinking
in my head to you right now.

I can offer you 100 good men.

All with weapons.

And a new relationship with the police.

Intelligence.

Intelligence is a very valuable thing,
innit, my friend?

And usually it comes
far too fucking late.

Let's say that
I shot you already, right,

in the fucking face.

And the bullet goes bone, mush,
bone, cabinet over there.

Which is a shame, innit,

'cause that cabinet's fucked now
and I got to get shot of it.

- So, what I'd do is this...
-(GUN COCKING)

It's fucking simple, mate.

I cut that cabinet in half, don't I?

I do. I just literally...
I cut the cabinet... I cut...

I cut the cabinet
literally in half, mate.

And I take one half
of the cabinet, all right,

and I put it into a barrel

and I take the other half of the cabinet
and all its pieces

and I put that
into another barrel, right?

And I send this barrel off to Mandalay.

And the other barrel
off to somewhere like...

I don't know...

Timbuktu.

- You ever been?
-No.

No?

Would you like to go?

No.

You know, I always thought that

you'd have a great big
fucking gold ring in your nose.

I'm sorry, go on.

Tell us your plan.

(CAR HONKS)

Ada.

How the fuck did you find me?

What, are you reading Polly's letters?

Polly showed me the letter.

Look, you think you're safe
because you moved flat, but you're not.

Polly thinks the same.

When will you understand?
I just want you all out of my life.

Ada.

Look at us, eh?

And it'll happen again.

Yeah, well, next time I'll be ready.

In fact, I want them to try again
'cause I'll shoot their balls off!

- Ada, put the fucking gun away.
-Get away from me, I'm late for work.

All right, fine. Fine.

Just take this.

Take it.

Where you're living now is right
on the edge of Sabini's territory

and all the coppers round there
work for him.

I've got a lot of money coming in
that I can't put through the banks.

My accountant says the best thing
is to buy property for cash

and put it in the name
of a family member.

A house? A whole house?

It's all yours.

Four storeys, eight bedrooms,

kitchen, scullery.

Rooms for a maid,
if your political conscience will allow.

At least go and have a look, eh?

-(SCOFFS)
-(DOOR OPENS)

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

Shoot the fucking lot of them.

(CLEARING THROAT) Mr Sabini?
The police are here.

(SNIFFS)

Tell them to wipe their feet.

So why do I have to tell you everything?

We can't search every train
that comes into London.

They don't use trains, they use boats.

The boatmen are all gypsies.
He's a fucking gypsy.

Why do we have to tell them everything?

Okay, we can't search every boat.

Lucky for me,
I have a boy in the Jews' rum house.

The gypsy went to meet Solomons.

And after, they drank
whisky and shook hands.

And then Alfie gave him some salt

or some such kike thing
that means peace.

What exactly d'you want us to do,
Mr Sabini?

(SNIFFING)

Did you bring dog shit
in here on your shoes?

Check, have a look.

(SNIFFS) I can smell something.

You've got photographs
of this Tommy Shelby, though, right?

We have military ID photographs

from his time
with the Warwickshire Yeomanry.

Shelby won medals.

(SCOFFS)

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

Okay, so you've got his fucking photo.

If he shows his face in Camden Town,
your coppers lift him. All right?

You know... (SNIFFS)

Sometimes when I smell something,
it's something that's not real,

it's something more like a...
Like a premonition.

It's like sometimes I smell something,
but it's not a smell, it's just...

...something isn't right.

Mr Sabini, we'll do everything
we can to deal with this man.

Deal?

Did you say, "Do a deal"?

I didn't mean that.

SABINI: Fuck.

Fuck.

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

- You've been fucking got at.
-No, you're being ridiculous.

Somebody's fucking sat you down.

Somebody's fucking sat you down
and talked to you!

- Mr Sabini...
-We should go.

This fucking gypsy has sat down
with the fucking coppers!

Mr Sabini.

(SHOUTING)

and you're taking with
both fucking hands

off of me and off of him!

Okay, so now you fucking follow Shelby.

You fucking follow him
and you finish him!

(SPEAKING IN ITALIAN)

(BELLS TOLLING)

(MUTTERING)

Oh, shit.

(SIGHS)

I told youse, boys, 'ere she is.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

What the bloody hell is going on?

When did you get back?

I didn't want to miss
your birthday, Pol.

ARTHUR: Back to work.

How d'you know it's my birthday?
Nobody ever knows.

Ah, it's different this year.

John, Finn, bring the car round.

Where are we going?

To unwrap your birthday present.

After you.

Good morning!

You said you were gonna buy Ada a house.

Yep, that's right, I did.

Just had a bit of cash left over.

This is ours?

No, Polly...

This is yours.

'Cause you deserve it.

What would I do with all these rooms?

(CHUCKLES)

Well, you could, uh, relax for one.

Come here at weekends.

It has a garden, eh?

You love gardens.

You can grow roses, Pol.

I don't know, have a piano.

Have people round,
they can have a singsong, eh?

God help the bloody neighbours.

Fuck the neighbours.

Welcome home, Pol.

Arthur, why don't you
take the boys outside,

wait by the car?

(TOMMY CLEARS THROAT)

Pol...

I know you haven't
been happy for a while.

And I know why.

Esme is all right, you know?

She's got a good heart, she has.

I've spoken to her and she told me.

Told you what?

She told me what it is
that would make you happy.

I've spoken to our contacts
in the police.

They have contacts in the council,

and they have contacts with the people
who keep the parish records.

Records of adoptions,
and of confidential forced removals.

Now, with your permission,

I'd like to grease a few palms

and take a look at the records
they never showed you.

Pol...

I am going to find your son and daughter
and I'm gonna bring them home.

That's what this house is for.

So that you can bring your family home
where they belong.

We're moving up, Pol.

(KARL LAUGHS)

Go have a look what you think.

(KARL GIGGLES)

Can you hear that?

(KARL BABBLES)

Silence at last.

- And it belongs to us.
-(KARL BABBLES)

Mummy, there's loads of chairs!

What's in there?

TOMMY: Still here?

Well, there's a lot coming in
and a lot going out.

Well, as long as there's more coming in,
we're all right.

This came for you today.

It's all the way from America, New York.

Somewhere called Poughkeepsie?

And the decorators doing The Garrison
want paying.

Arthur forgot and pulled a gun
when they asked, so...

- They've stopped and everything's green.
-All right, well, just pay it.

Oh, and we need to put
an advert in the Mail,

"Garrison: Grand Reopening."

Oh, and you said there's a letter
that had to go today.

Special delivery.

I wrote it in the diary.

Yes, I haven't written it out yet.

Well, you can just tell me
and I'll write it down.

I've learnt shorthand.

Fair enough. (CLEARS THROAT)

Dear Mr Churchill...

Has your pencil broken?

No. No, do go on. (CLEARS THROAT)

Dear Mr Churchill...

I've been approached
by an agent of the Crown

to carry out a task, as yet unspecified.

"His name is Major Campbell
and I believe he reports to you.

"Therefore, I decided to make
direct contact with you

"to make sure that certain things
are clearly understood."

"Mr Churchill, you should know that
I am a former British soldier

"and if you look at my war record,

"you will see that I fought bravely
at Verdun and at the Somme.

"Also, you will see
that my actions at Mons

"saved thousands of Allied lives.

"I know that you resigned
your ministerial position

"and the safety of an office

"to go and fight on the front line
with the men.

"I read that you fought bravely,
Mr Churchill.

"Therefore, I hope I will be treated

"in any dealings we have
with a degree of respect,

"soldier to soldier.

"My demands are slight and my sacrifice
in service of my country

"will no doubt once again be great.

"Yours sincerely, Thomas Shelby."

Military Medal and the DCM.

Distinguished Conduct Medal.

Hands up in this room,
those who were at the Somme.

Those who were at the Battle of Verdun?

Thomas Shelby was a tunneller.

His demand is rather amusing.

He has asked that the Colonial Office
grant him an Empire export licence.

(MEN LAUGHING)

And specifically a licence
covering India,

Malay Peninsula, Canada and Russia.

He plans to transport
certain manufactured goods

from Birmingham to the Poplar Docks.

And you plan to agree to this demand?

Dear God, Major Campbell...

We will be asking this man to carry out
an assassination on behalf of the Crown,

once more risking his life.

These demands
by comparison are slight

and easily met
with a few quiet words over lunch

with the appropriate ministers.

Sir, with the greatest respect,

Thomas Shelby is a murdering,

cut-throat, mongrel, gangster.

And yet, the tunnels were dug
beneath our feet

to silence the guns
pointed at our heads.

Get Thomas Shelby's
details from Campbell

and get some kind of royal
appointment stamp.

Temporary.

Temporary?

Just until the deed is done.

Agreed, Major Campbell?

And then I can proceed as discussed?

Ag reed, sir.

HENRY: Come on, let's go inside.

Here, pass the ball!

Come on.

MRS JOHNSON: Come on in, boys.

Did you have a good game?

HENRY: I'm starving,
have you done anything for lunch?

MRS JOHNSON: It'll be
on in a minute, in you go.

Go in and wash your hands, boys,
all right?

HENRY: Come on, mister.

Mrs Johnson?

Yes. Who are you?

I'm from Birmingham Council,
Bordesley parish.

No-one wrote to me. What d'you want?

I would like to talk about your son,
about Henry.

Can I come in?

Oh, I'd rather you didn't,
he doesn't like to talk about this.

I see.

So what does Henry know
about his real identity, Mrs Johnson?

I only deal with Mr Ross from the agency
and he only ever writes, so...

Why are you here in person?

Well, the boy is approaching
his 18th birthday.

This isn't right!

You're not from the council,
something isn't right.

Hmm. What does he know, Mrs Johnson?

He knows his mother couldn't cope.

She drank too much, she used opium.

She used to beat him.

But that isn't the truth, is it?

Look, I think you should come back
when my husband's here.

Does he know what his real name is?

His real name is Johnson, Henry Johnson,

now I would like you to go away
and come back when my husband's here.

The truth is, he was taken
from his mother without her permission.

Henry, go back inside, please.

Who are you?

Please, Henry, go on!

- Your real name is Michael Gray.
-No!

Your real mother wants to see you.

Her address is on the back of this card.

She just wants to talk.

- Go away.
-She just wants to talk.

Go away and leave us alone.

Go away!

Come on, let's go back inside.

Come on, I'll get you something to eat.

Come on, Henry.

Come on. Come on.

(GRUNTING)

Call yourself a Shelby?

Fucking hit him, Finn.

Hit him, that's right.

All right, Isiah, your turn.

Finn! Call yourself a Shelby?
Fucking hit him, for fuck's sake!

(GRUNTING)

Hit him.

(LOUD GROANING)

Get him out of there, get him back!

- Get him back!
-Arthur, for fuck's sake!

Get him out of there!

(ARTHUR GROANS)

(ARTHUR GROWLS)

MAN: Rockfair is down to sixes.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

Right, what happened?

It was a fair fight.

Yeah.

Arthur just caught him with a good 'un.

I saw the body, don't fucking lie to me.

I saw the body, what fucking happened?

I'm not family, I'm saying nothing.

Arthur...

He's blown a few times lately.

Six, seven.

It's like he's not there in the head.

He can't even hear "stop".

Even his own name.

And then he cries.

Right, listen to me.

That's two fucking stories.

Your brother killed a boy.

There were witnesses,
there will be questions,

get your story straight,
it was an accident.

Fuck off.

TOMMY: I spoke to the doctor,

he said the kid
probably had a weak heart.

We'll look after his mother.

It'll be fine.

Polly said I should have stuck
with the medicine.

I said that you know best.

It's like a fucking boat, Tommy.

Full of heavy cargo, like coal or iron.

Sometimes it slips to one end.

And the boat tips.

I can feel it slipping.

And I can feel the boat tipping.

But there ain't nothing
I can do about it.

It's like me fuckin' head’s just like
this fuckin' black fucking barge!

And it just fucking drifts

in and out, in and out.

Well, we're home
a long time now, Arthur.

We're home a long time.

- I thought you were all right.
-Yeah, well...

I, I, I don't think I am, Tommy.

Take this fucking thing away from me.

Just fuck off, Arthur.

You know what?

I've had enough.

I've fucking had enough.

Just fuck off!

(ARTHUR SNIFFLES)

What?

I'm supposed to treat you
like a fucking kid again, eh?

Keep you away from guns
and fucking rope, is that it?

(YELLS) You think
I haven't got enough on!

- Stop it, Tommy.
-Arthur?

You think I haven't got enough on?

- Stop it.
-The war is done!

- Shut the door on it!
-Stop it.

Shut the door on it like I did, eh?

- Can you do that?
-Yeah?

- Like I fucking did.
-I'm not fucking you.

- Shut the fucking door, eh?
-But I'm not fucking you!

I am not fucking you!

Everyone fucking knows it!

(ARTHUR PANTS)

God!

Look at yourself. Eh?

Look at yourself.

Take a long, hard,
fucking look at yourself.

(DOOR BANGS)

(ARTHUR SOBS)

(GLASS SHATTERS)

(DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS)

(MOUTHING)

Time for lunch, sir.

I thought we could eat at the desk,
like the old days.

(CHUCKLES)

You remembered.

Tongue and pickle, sir.

But it's the single stroke
of mustard, that's the thing.

- Hmm.
-The fine detail.

Speaking of detail...

How much is Thomas Shelby
paying you in bribes per week?

Hmm?

Actually, I already know.

Two pounds a week, eight pounds a month,
plus extras for specific favours.

When I left, you were an honest man.

And now you're on
the Peaky Blinders' payroll.

Shelby is a worm and feeds off
the rotten parts of your mind.

He gets in through your ear,
with a whisper.

He crawls in over your tongue as you
lie to the judge and the pastor.

Mr Moss...

We are entering a bloody phase
of a bloody war

with no quarter asked or given.

But as of this moment, you are now
back on the side of the angels.

Shelby thinks you work for him,
but in truth, you work for me.

And I will use you mercilessly.

Polly, these are the files
for Michael and Anna Gray.

As you can see, one is white...

...and one is black.

What you saw in your dreams...

...was right.

Your daughter is dead.

Um... You do it, I can't read it.

After Anna was taken from you,
she was put with a...

With a family of a
railway station master in Stafford.

She never settled.

So she kept running away.

She got on a train to Birmingham once...

Eventually they sent her to Australia

where she died of something
called spring fever.

So my little Anna travelled
all the way back across the world

to be with me in my dreams?

She came all by herself.

Well...

That's one train
they couldn't get her off.

But, Pol, Michael is alive.

(EXHALES SHARPLY)

He's in England...

(PANTING)

...and I know where he lives,
I went there.

- But, Pol...
-And?

Okay, Polly, listen to me.

Just listen to me, please.

Pol!

The woman that he calls "mother"
will never let him come here.

Just tell me where he is, Tommy.

Polly, if you go there and you get mad

and she gets mad
and she calls the police,

they will never let you
anywhere near him

and the boy will get scared.

That's what will happen, Pol.

Polly.

Polly...

You just tell me where he is, Thomas.

(GUN COCKS)

Tell me where he is, Thomas!

Polly...

Pulling the gun...

Pulling the gun is why I can't tell you.

Pol, I'm sorry, you're going
to have to wait till he's 18.

Till he's old enough
to make his own decision.

Wait!

You tell me where he is!

If you shoot me, you'll never know.

(GUNSHOT)

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

FINN: Mickey!
Hurry up, the party's starting.

Good, carry on.

Finn, where you going?

- To talk to Arthur.
-Right.

Arthur?

Go away.

What's wrong? Why aren't you ready?

For what?

The Garrison.

The reopening of your pub. It's tonight.

Tommy don't want me there.

It was Tommy who told me to get you.

He says it's your name above that door,
so you've got to be there.

No... No, look at me.

I'm staying away.

Go away.

Get out.

I told you to go away.

Sometimes,

when we boys are feeling blue,

this is what we do.

It's called Tokyo.

It's good stuff, Arthur.

It'll help you.

For special occasions.

(ARTHUR SNORTS)

(SNIFFS)

Oh, boys!

My fucking Garrison!

Take that. Take that an' all.

'Ere you are, Lizzie.
Let me get you a light.

There you go, my darling.

Jeremiah, I'll be with you in a second.

Oh!

Look at the place!

You all right?

Busier we are, the faster time passes.

Yeah?

Arthur. Tokyo, it's fuel for races, eh?

But you've seen
a doped horse after a race...

Oh, yeah.

Grand openings
and race days only, brother.

- All right?
-Go on then, Tommy!

- There you go, come on, drink up.
-Boys.

- All right, Mick?
-Tom.

Finn! Gimme that.

Keep him off the whisky, John.

(LAUGHS)

(DOOR OPENS)

Pol.

(POLLY LAUGHS)

Ada! I didn't know you were coming.

- There's Aunt Polly.
-Aw.

Hi!

Hey, who's that?

D'you want a cuddle?

Polly, that's right. Take him. Polly...

Oh, Ada, why don't you think
about coming home?

Hello, Ada.

Say you'd...

- Tommy...
-(TOMMY CLEARS THROAT)

So what do you think, eh?

It's very...

- Gold?
-Yeah.

Hello, Ada.

Hello, trouble, how're you doing?

- Mmm.
-Oh, you're spilling my drink!

Hey, Arthur, look who it is.

So what d'you want me to say to her?

Just talk to her.

No one can get through to her.

Tell her I had no choice.

I appreciate this.

- Hello, brother.
-Ada, come here, you!

You big bear!

Polly? Why don't you come and join us?

- What?
-I'm not an idiot.

He asked you to come, didn't he?

I don't want conversation,
I want an address.

Until I have that,
I've not got anything to say.

Now, it's a party!

Yeah, it is! Oh!

And I'm going to enjoy myself.

No, Pol, don't be silly.

Excuse me?

Would you care to dance?

It'd be my pleasure.

My love, pleasure hasn't even begun.

Excuse me?

I'm looking for someone
called Elizabeth Gray.

I was told she lived here at number 17.

I came last night
but there was nobody here.

So I waited.

What do you want with Elizabeth Gray?

I think she might be my mother.

Ripped By mstoll