All language subtitles for A.Very.English.Scandal.S01E01.Episode.1.AMZN.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-NTG

Did you hear what Harold the Wise
said about the trip to Rhodesia?

"I would be very, very, very
disappointed."

"I would be very, very, very
disappointed."

"I would be very, very, very
disappointed, and so would
my whippet."

Steak tartare, sir.
Thank you very much indeed.

So, Senor Besselli,

I have news. John Pardoe has
practically confirmed it.

Grimond is stepping down. One more
year, 18 months at the most.

I would be "very, very, very
disappointed" if that's not true.

What can I say but, congratulations?
Just think, though, given

the balance of power, the next
leader of the Liberal Party could be
Deputy Prime Minister. Well, quite.

I never did care very much
for the word deputy.

Well, I'll be there for you,
all the way.

Finance is going to be a problem,
of course, as ever.

Well, I'd love to help, but I'm not
exactly a millionaire.

And I'm stuck here in an office with
a leaky roof and I can't even afford

my own staff. Tell me, what's that
secretary of yours like, Elizabeth?

Any good? Oh, yes.
Particularly in bed.

Pedro!

I adore you!

You and your monstrous appetites!
Weren't you a lay preacher?

Well, obviously you were, literally.

Call it a hobby.
Some people play golf,

I like screwing.
THEY LAUGH

Between the two of us,
when I was young,

I was so desperate,
I'd go looking on the spear side.

Are you telling me...that you...

..were usable?

I'm a little bit so, yes.

If that's not too shocking.

Peter Pedro Bessell von Bessellbach!

Well, out of anyone in this room,
I'm probably the least shocked of

all, if you understand my meaning.

I think so. It's hardly a great
surprise now, is it?

I...suppose not.

What would you say you are,
vis-a-vis men and women?

What are you? 50-50?

More like 80-20.

I mean, 80% for the ladies.

Yeah.

Yes, I call myself 80%,
but...80%...gay.

Gosh, I'm not sure that word's ever
been said within these walls before.

Not in that context. My wife insists
that gay means happy.

I think she's absolutely right.

And I intend to be very happy,
very many times in my life.

And very much so with him.

Very, very, very much so.

Careful, now. Keep it discreet.

I'm not sure any boy's worth ending
up in prison for.

You protecting me, Pedro?
If I must, Jeremy,

then I will. At last!

Thank God, someone to protect me
from myself.

I am going to order some port, to
celebrate.

Peter, we are nothing but a pair
of old queens.

To...Her Majesty.

Her Majesty.

HORN HONKS
Morning, Jonty. Morning, Jeremy.

Morning, sir.

It is my duty to inform the Prime
Minister that if he continues

to restrict immigration, he is
staunching the lifeblood of this

country... Hear, hear! ..and, and
fuelling the rise of

the "Keep Britain White" campaign.

Citizens from all over the
Commonwealth deserve a free and safe

right of entry, or else the
Government may find that its

White Paper is very aptly named.
APPLAUSE

PHONE RINGS

Bessell speaking.
Pedro, I have a problem.

Meet me at The Ritz, 12 o'clock.

It was delivered last week to my
mother, and she read it,

every single word, all 17 pages.

"From Norman Josiffe?"

You mean, he's one of your...

"Jeremy and I have had a homosexual
relationship..."

Oh, my God, your mother read this?!

What does he want? Money?

The vast sum of £30.

He can't even blackmail properly.

Well, who is he, exactly?

He is, um...

..well, when I first
met him, he was...

..very heaven.

SPLASHING

Good morning.

And a very, very
fine morning it is, too.

Good morning, sir. Pardon me.
Jeremy Thorpe. I've come to stay for
the weekend.

I'm a guest of Mr Van de Vater.
I know, sir. He said.
He was very excited.

Quite a special visitor. Member of
Parliament and all of that.

What's your name? Norman, sir.
Another Norman?

Mein host, Norman Van de Vater
and Norman...

Josiffe. Josiffe!

What is that, French?
Um, I don't know, sir.

Really?

You've never so much as enquired
about your own surname?

It's just, um, my mother married a
Josiffe, but he's not my father.

Ah, complicated, yes. Sorry.

No, no, no, no. My fault, my fault.
It's private.

Well, I'd best get back to work.
Will you be riding this weekend,
sir? Oh, yeah, yeah, definitely.

It's a great...great
passion of mine.

I can prepare the horse myself.

What level are you at? What kind of
mount would suit you best?

Well, just...the right sort
of mount for me, really.

It depends.

What about you, Norman?
You're the great expert, I see.

It's all I've ever wanted to do,
sir. Working with horses.
Ever since I was a kid.

My family wasn't...
We had our problems.

All sorts of nonsense. It was my own
fault, really, but I could always

find my way to the stables and,
um... be happy.

I talk too much.
Everyone says. No, no, no.

It's marvellous. Where are you?

Don't let anyone ever tell you to
stop.

You're very kind, sir, thank you.
Jeremy. What's my name?

Jeremy.

I wonder, it's just a thought,
but if you ever

move on from Norman,

Norman, and you find
yourself in London,

why don't you get in touch?
Would that be all right?

Yes, sir. Jeremy.

Thank you.

Right. Well, I must...trot on.

And, lo and behold,
just over a year later...

KNOCKING AT DOOR
Yeah! Excuse me, Mr Thorpe.

A visitor for you, Central Lobby.
Says you're expecting him.

A Mr Norman Josiffe.

Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes.

Right away.

Graham. Jeremy.

Norman.

I'm so sorry. I couldn't think where
else to go.

I hope you don't mind. No, no.
Oh, sorry. Mind Mrs Tish.
DOG WHINES

I certainly will. Hello, Mrs Tish.

Well, I am grotesquely busy, but we
might have time for a quick confab.

Oh, he said we're not allowed in.

I'm sorry, Mr Thorpe,
but you know the rules.

No dogs allowed inside
the Palace of Westminster.

Now, that is true, except,
as you well know,

Charles II issued an edict allowing
King Charles Spaniels inside the

domain, and while this might be
technically a Jack Russell,

is that right? That's right. You
know what dogs are like, and I think
that some roving

spaniel might have had his way with
Mrs Tish's mother.

Which means that she has royal
blood, so I must ask you,

make way, please. Come.

Thank you.

Complete fantasy,
that Charles II thing.

There is no such law. But so many
people have said it over the years,

it's assumed to be true, which is a

very good thing to remember in life,
I think.

I just had to get away,
and I thought of you.

Mr Van de Vater said the most
terrible things to me, really,

I've never heard a gentleman talk
like that.

Well, strictly between ourselves,
he's not really a gentleman at all.

It's a charade, his entire life.

His real name is Norman Vater,
from Wales.

Well, he adored you.
Absolutely. Oh, my God.

"Jeremy this, Jeremy that."

Every time you wrote to him,
he'd read it out loud.

Like what?

Anything in particular?

You sent a postcard on the day
Princess Margaret got engaged to

Anthony Armstrong-Jones, and you
wrote to Mr Van de Vater,

"Of the happy couple,"
Jeremy says, "what a pity.

"I'd rather hoped to marry one
and seduce the other."

HE LAUGHS

But it wasn't so much that as what
he did with the postcards.

I'll keep this safe and sound,

add it to my little collection.

Letters from the great and powerful.

He put them in a drawer.

I didn't know he kept them, no.

Well, he doesn't any more.

I took them. When I walked out.

Come, Mrs Tish.
DOG WHINES

But that is

exceedingly kind of you.

Whatever would you do that for?

Some of those are personal
and a bit...

..cheeky, if you don't
mind my saying.

And, um, if they fell
into the wrong hands...

..I wouldn't want you
getting into trouble.

Thank you.

Thank you very much. It's funny,
his name's Norman and my name's

Norman and those are all,
"Dear Norman",

and I used to imagine...

..they were mine.

As if a man like you would ever
write to a man like me.

Well, it's not impossible.

Really?

Can I have some water?
Yes, of course, yes.

Thank you.

These pills are new. I was on
Longactil, but they said to try

Elavil instead. Because I wasn't
very well in the head.

I'm sure you guessed that already.

I was in a clinic...
for psychiatric patients.

Is that all right?
Mm, yeah, of course.

Of course. And they were very
good, they really were,

and I'm very grateful, but then
they said, "There's not much more we

"can do for you," so I said, "Well,
what do I do now?"

and they said, "That's not up to
us," and I said, "Well..."

And that's when I thought of you.

And with a view to what, exactly?
Well, the thing is, when I ran away

from Mr Van de Vater, I had to leave
my National Insurance card behind,

and I can hardly ask for it back,
can I? Not now. Which means I won't

be able to work, and if I can't get
work then I can't get a place to

live, and if I don't have a
permanent address, then I can't get

my prescription, so I'm stuck,
Jeremy, I'm completely stuck, and...

..I've got nowhere to stay.

Whoa!

HE KNOCKS ON DOOR

You took him to your mother's house?

But why?

I thought it would be fun.

Who might this be? Ursula,
this is Peter Freeman.

He is a cameraman. He's coming
with me on that expedition to Malta.

I said we could give him
a bed for the night, hmm?

Five, six, seven, eight.

THEY PLAY A JAUNTY TUNE

Faster.

THEY PLAY FASTER

They say you're part of it,

this committee regarding peerages.

Oh, no, I'm not
on the committee, no, no.

But it exists because of you.
You facilitated it.

I just asked the right question at
the right time, that's all.

For whose benefit?

Anthony Wedgwood Benn?

I knew him at Oxford. He is a
perfectly decent chap.

The man's a Trot.

Think of the bigger picture.
Thank you very much, Jenny.

If you sit on that committee
and steer it correctly,

then one day you could claim the
ancient Barony of Thorpe.

Wouldn't that be marvellous?
I suppose it would, yes.

You would be elevated, darling.

Elevated. Mm. Mm.

DOG WHINES

There you go, Mrs Tish. Lie down.

Good girl.

Night-night, Mrs Tish.

Shh, shh!

There's nothing wrong, is there?

Why would there be?

I don't know.

Did you read the book?

Well, not yet.
I think you'll like it.

Don't look so scared.

I'm not. Yes, you are.

You're like a
frightened little rabbit.

Is that what you are?

Are you...my little bunny? Hmm?

Oh, what's this?
NORMAN SOBS

Well, dear, dear. What's all this?
JEREMY CHUCKLES

What's all this?

I'm sorry.

Well, you've had a nice time,
haven't you?

Then why so sad?

No-one's ever been
this kind to me.

"No-one's ever been
this kind to me."

Poor little bunny rabbit.
THEY LAUGH

Don't be silly. Come on.

Wipe your eyes.

That's it, that's it. Dry your face.

Let me see. And shake it off.
Bluh-bluh-bluh-bluh!

Bluh-bluh-bluh-bluh!
And again. Bluh-bluh-bluh-bluh!
THEY LAUGH

Bluh-bluh-bluh-bluh! Much better.

Now I'm going to kiss you,
and you will enjoy it.

Well, you could enjoy it a bit more.
I can't. Why not?

It's wrong.

Well, THAT'S not wrong.

Now, we are going to need this,
just in case.

And a good little helping of every
bachelor's friend.

Just hop onto all fours, there's a
good chap. That always works best,

don't you think? On the bed?
Yes, on the bed.

There we are.

That's it.

And remember...

..mother's room.

And then?

We did the deed, of course.

Gosh.

It's very, very good, this.

It's excellent. Quite a lot of
lemon, which is rare.

Yeah. So the next time you heard
from Norman was...

..was this? No, no, no, no, no.

I took him straight from mother's
and moved him into rooms.

Paid the rent, kept him there.

Bunny?

DOG WHINES

The march begins, and this
is our story. This is you and me.
BRUCKNER SYMPHONY PLAYS

This is...this is mankind marching
towards his maker.

Feel it?

Maybe that's what Bruckner's
searching for - God and his heaven,

and it's ineffable.

I used to live there for a couple of
months, Harrington Road.

Rather nice houses.
Not down that end.

Five to a room. We had to go and
piss in the park.

Is this your first time on a bus?

No, it's not.

I bet it is. Excuse me, I have been
on a great many buses.

Liar! Well, when I was 16,

we used to have short leave,
like a day out from school.

We'd come up to Paddington,

get the number 36 bus to Lord's,
smuggle on bottles of beer.

It was very wicked.
We being you and Lord Snooty?

Yes, that's right. Good old Snooty.
NORMAN CHUCKLES

How is Snooty?
He's absolutely top-hole,

ripping.

This country's application to join
the Common Market represents a huge

opportunity, for growth

and investment, and not just for the
bankers and businessmen in London -

they have lined their
pockets enough -

but for my constituents
in North Devon,

and for all the good and honest
workers across the land,

Europe represents a bold new
horizon -

an undertaking from which we may
profit and learn, and enrich our

lives for generations to come.

GASPING

"I wasn't going to say anything
compromising, but can't stop

"myself saying, 'I love you
and can't wait to see you'.

"Yours affectionately, Jeremy."

Buuuuuu-nny!

NORMAN SOBS

I'm left on my own all day.

Oh, for God's sake. Do you realise
how busy I am?

But what am I supposed to do?!

Well, I want you to promise, if
you're ever back in London,

to get in touch. Yes?

Cheers.

Maybe it's time you thought
about moving on...

..doing something with your life.

What do you think, Bunny?

That dressage school, whatever
happened to that?

That would be wonderful,
but I can't.

It's in France.

"..In haste, Bunnies can
and will go to France.

"Yours affectionately, Jeremy."

But what happened to bloody France?!

They said no.
Go on, how is that my fault?!

Well, I got you that other job at
the stables and you threw that away.

I told you! It was that man,
he was vile to me!

Dare I say that if you drank a
little less and took fewer of those
pills... Why is that?

Why do you think I need them?

Because of you, the things
you've done to me.

Oh, really, what is
that supposed to mean? Huh?

You have infected me, Jeremy, with
the virus of homosexuality!

"You've infected me with
the virus of homosexuality."

Where did he go?

God knows.

I've come to tell you about my
homosexual relations

with Jeremy Thorpe MP.

DOOR CLOSES

CHAIR SCRAPES

I was a victim

of his lust

and appetites.

And if you ask me why it's taken me
so long to come to the police, then

all I can say is that I was
in thrall to the man.

That's my explanation. In thrall.

You have these as proof.

I'll give you two of the best.

Look. His handwriting,
and "Bunnies".

My nickname's Bunny.
That's proof enough, isn't it?

I'll keep the rest, thank you.

It's my insurance policy.

God knows what he got up to.

I thought I was rid of him, and
then, out of the blue, that,

to Mother, telling her everything.

Did she believe it?

No, no, of course not.

And now he says he's taken rooms in
Dublin under the care

of a Father Sweetman.

This is where you come in.
Oh, God, doing what, exactly?

You take that thing and
you confront him in Dublin.

I can't put anything in writing,
so I need you to see him in person

and warn him off, and I mean
seriously,

go and put the shits
up the little sod.

You tell him that that amounts to
blackmail and that he will have the

full weight of the law upon his head

if he ever tries
anything like that again.

And you make it very clear that he
is not to contact me ever,

he is not to talk about our former
association in any shape or form,

and he is not to write to my mother,
describing acts of anal sex, under

any circumstances whatsoever.

His name is Norman Josiffe.

I've asked him to meet me here at
eight o'clock,

so it's imperative you let me know
as soon as he turns up.

Certainly, sir. Room ten, thank you.
Thank you.

Oh, God!

HE SIGHS

I called yesterday for Norman,
Norman Josiffe.

Is he there?

Mr Norman Josiffe.

Norman?

Mr Bessell, I take it?

I was expecting you last night.

This is highly inconvenient.
I waited a very long time.

I think you'll find, Mr Bessell,
that I am not at your beck and call.

You might be a Member of Parliament,
but that gives you no authority in

Ireland, and certainly none over me.
Now, what do you want?

Well, the problem is,
I have to go home.

I'm only here for the one night, so
you'll have to come with me to the

airport and have a word en route.

In the car. Chop chop.

My friend and colleague, JT,

insists that you cease and desist
from contacting him or...

Tell Jeremy Thorpe I don't care.
JT insists that you stop.

Jeremy Thorpe can say whatever he
wants. JT, JT! JT demands that you

stop or he will take legal action
against you. I have here in this

case an extradition order from the
Home Secretary. If you don't stop,

the order will be released and you
will be taken back to the

United Kingdom to face trial.
Show me. What?

The extradition order. Show me.

But it's in here. Show me.

You wrote to his mother, Norman!

You can understand why he so cross,
can't you?

His own mother! I suppose
it was a bit much.

He loved me.
He wrote me a letter, it said,

"I want to live on a farm with you."

I don't know, isn't that love?

Wouldn't everything be better
if you just left him in the past,

like everyone does
with every old lover?

Move on, find someone else.

Wouldn't that be nice?
You called him my lover.

Yes. Thank you.

Look, I can help.

I can give you £5 as a weekly

retainer until you're settled.

Thanks.

And you can have
my telephone number,

so that if anything arises, you
contact me, not him.

You've got that? Is that clear?
I suppose so.

Good. And you'll sort out
my National Insurance card?

In what way? Oh, he didn't tell you
about that, did he?

Of course he didn't.

Mr JT and his fiddle-dee-dee.

Did he tell you my life is hell
because I haven't got a card?

He promised to get me a new one, and
did he? No, he didn't!

Can't you get a new card yourself?
That's the whole point.

Technically, he was my employer,
because he paid for everything, so

he's got to do it. If I don't have
a National Insurance card, I can't

work, I don't get benefits, I don't
exist. I'm like an exile here.

Well, I'll see what I can do. No,
not you, it has to be Jeremy Thorpe!

All right. That card is my entire
identity. You'll get your card.

Without it, I don't exist!
All right, all right, all right!

So...a new card,

five quid, and we're agreed never to
discuss these things again, yes?

Yes. Is that it?

Yes. We've covered everything?

Yes. Thank you.

Although...

..that letter about the farm,
I kept that.

I saved it, along with 25
love letters from...JT.

And I had them all nice and safe
in a suitcase,

which I then lost...

on a train...

..in Switzerland.

He did what?! He went for a job in
Berne and fell asleep, and then he

got off the train...
Yes, but what letters?

Which ones? What
letters did he mean?

Well, he described them
as love letters,

written on House of Commons
notepaper,

and he said you sent him a very
lovely note when Mrs Tish died.

Hmm? Oh, the dog. Christ!

Bloody idiot.

Well, we've got to get
those letters back.

Good morning, this is Jeremy Thorpe.

Yes, I need a number for the British
Consulate in Berne, if I may.

Je cherche une valise.

HE SPEAKS IN FRENCH

Merci. Foreign Office, please.

Allo?

Lost property. Erm, property...
Property perdu, s'il vous plait.

Property perdu. Any luck?

Nothing. I told you I've got that
American trip for the next

fortnight, but
do you remember Diana Stainton?

I do. She's working for me now.
I've left her in charge.

If anyone can find it, it's her.

Diana Stainton here. Can I leave a
message for Mr Thorpe?

It's the suitcase. I found it.

PHONE RINGS

Hello? Diana, darling.
Are you in a gorgeous negligee?

I'm not. Are you?

Always so funny. They said you'd
found that silly old suitcase.

Waiting at Victoria left luggage.
I'll collect it tomorrow morning.

Just give me the details, I'll do it
for you. No, Mr Bessell asked me to
find it, so it's my responsibility.

The suitcase belongs to Mr Josiffe
in Dublin, so I'll return it to
him. Much easier if I do it.

I disagree. Not like you, Diana,
saying no to a gentleman.

Goodnight, Mr Thorpe. I'll drive
you, that's what I'll do.

Can't have you traipsing round town
with a heavy suitcase, it's not

right. Are you still in that
Islington lair?

Yes. Then I shall pick you up, eight
o'clock sharp, tomorrow morning,

there's a good girl. Cheerio.

Thank you...

Thank you very much.

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I
just need to pop back to my flat.

I remember I've left something at
home. I won't be two ticks.

If you must.

Mr Thorpe! What do you need that
for? No matter!

Mr Thorpe! That is not yours!

Oh!

SHE KNOCKS AT DOOR

Mr Thorpe, what on earth are
you doing?! I'd like an answer.

Mr Thorpe! I must insist!

Mr Thorpe, open this door!

That is not your property.
Mr Thorpe, let me in right now!

Mr Thorpe!

Mr Thorpe!

Mr Thorpe!

Mr Thorpe, let me in!

Mr Thorpe!

Now, then, if you would

very kindly return that to
Mr Josiffe, I think we're done.

Splendid. Come along.

And that, I think we can safely say,

is that.

Farewell, Miss Norma Josiffe.

Farewell indeed, but promise me,
sort out that insurance card,

for God's sake. Give him something
that connects us, officially?

Absolutely not, no.

Did you love him?

Oh, God.
HE SCOFFS

Hmm. Sorry, old thing,
but I have to wonder.

Did you? Well, he was a man.

But did you love him at all?

Not even once, for a moment?

Pedro, that doesn't even exist.

It does for Norman.
He seems to find it easy.

Doesn't he just? Yeah.

I wonder...

..should I envy him?

I spoke to Leo the other day.

Leo Abse - still obsessed with his
bill to decriminalise homosexuality.

Jeremy. Leo. Thought I'd catch you.

You'll have to be very, very
quick. I'm going ahead with it, into
the lions' den.

A Private Member's Bill for the
Commons next month.

Well, you're a brave man. My wife
says I'm brave for wearing this

waistcoat. Make no mistake, though,
I don't believe those lost souls

will ever be happy, but it's our
duty in Parliament to help them.

Poor bloody queers.

My first proposal,
I asked the Lord Chancellor.

Do you know what he said? I will
refuse to sit in any Cabinet meeting

where this filthy subject is even
being discussed.

We would be licensing
buggers' clubs.

I have no desire to go down in
history as the man responsible for

legalising sodomy in Britain!

But then, finally,
I found someone to help me.

Lord Arran.

Boofy? Boofy.

Lord Arran. Oh, call me Boofy.

Boofy. This way.

Now, what size are you?

A size eight, why?

It's the badgers. Badgers?

Mm. Conservation mad.

We've given them the run of the
house.

Oh, there's one! That one's Rosie.

Yes, there's a cat flap in the
kitchen and in they come.

That's why you need the boots,
to protect your ankles. Ah!

They bite, the little buggers.
Give you tuberculosis.

And ringworm. Oh, terrible ringworm.

Fiona, this is Leo. Leo, this is
Fiona. Hello. How do you do?

And we're celebrating.

She's just achieved speeds of
81.65 mph across Lake Windermere.

I'm sorry?
SHE LAUGHS

Turns out the Countess of Arran is a
champion powerboat racer.

Good Lord. That bloody Donald
Campbell, I'll catch him, the devil!

Now, boots, badgers, and I must show
you the wallabies later.

What else? Oh, yes, queers.

But thank God for your support,
Boofy.

What puzzles me is that the
heterosexual man is so relentless in

his attack. We've had some dreadful
letters, full of bile,

quoting Deuteronomy and Leviticus.

No-one ever mentions
the Sermon on the Mount.

I had shit sent to me.

A parcel of shit. Shit in the post!

Human shit!

My secretary thought it was pate.

She said, "I threw it away, Lord
Arran, it wouldn't keep."

What chance do you think we stand?

Every day, we gain more votes.

Not fast enough for some.

Oh, goodness me. Sweetheart...
I'm fine.

You might wonder why an old kidney
like me would want to help.

But I've seen what the law can do.

My brother...

..the seventh Earl...
Queer as springtime.

When we were children,

in the nursery,

I'd reach out...

..every night,

held his hand until he slept, but...

..he...

..he was such a clever boy.

He translated The Three Musketeers,
did you know?

The Penguin Classic.

And the deaths go on - by hanging,
by poison, by gas -

men killing themselves
through fear and shame.

And I don't think it's suicide.

I think it's murder.

They are murdered
by the laws of the land.

And I think it's time it stopped.

Now we stand in a unique position

to change the law

and save their lives.

Have I got your vote?

And what did you say?

Well, I said yes.

Of course I said yes.

My God, what kind of man do you
take me for?

It's astonishing to think, if Leo
Abse wins, there will be freedom.

Those men will be free to be pitied,
that's all.

I don't care what change
they make to the law,

if anything about me
ever became public,

I give you my word, Peter,

I would put a gun to my head and
blow my brains out.

Then, I shall protect you, as ever.

Thank you. Not at all.

Well, I shall see you tomorrow.
Enough of this nonsense.

There's work to be done.
Exciting times ahead.

Very, very, very exciting, yes.
"Very, very, very."

"Very, very, very, very, very..."
Get out, come on.

Thorpe - John Jeremy, Liberal Party.

16,797.
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

And the leadership election
stands as follows.

Mr Hooson and Mr Lubbock withdraw,
so Mr Jeremy Thorpe is elected

leader of the Liberal Party.

Thank you.

Jeremy! Thank you very much.
Thank you.

Pedro. The best man won.

# For he's a jolly good fellow,
for he's a jolly good fellow

# For he's a jolly good fellow

# And so say all of us. #

I swear on my grandfather's sword

that I shall lead a Liberal crusade!

CHEERING

You're the youngest man to lead a
British political party in more than

a century. Well, Pitt the Younger
was, well, younger. He was 24 when

he became Prime Minister, so you
could say I'm behind schedule.

Is that the plan - Prime Minister?
Well, you laugh...

Pedro, I've come to a
very important conclusion.

If I'm to get any further,
I had better get married.

Really? Who do you have in mind,
the Queen Mother?

I'm absolutely serious.
I spoke to Mike Steele.

The splendid and sphinx-like Mike,
a question -

how would it affect our ratings in
the polls if I were to get married?

Gosh, well, it might
do you some good.

People don't trust a bachelor.

We might go up by 2%.

Really? How about five?

Shall we say five? 5% it is.

DOOR CLOSES

There is one obvious problem. I'll
close my eyes, grit my teeth and

then after a few months, I'll say,
"I'm tired and old and impotent,

"darling," and that'll be that.
What about the men?

What men?

All the same, if she's not going to
complain, you'll need to find a girl

who's led a sheltered life.
Then that is what I shall do.

I'll make her the luckiest girl in
the world.

Let the hunt begin.

ENERGETIC ROCK MUSIC PLAYS

Oh, it's good. It's very good.

It's... I'll tell you what it is,
it's the lining makes it look cheap.

If that was in mustard or scarlet,

then I think that would
really come alive.

Oh, my God. You've got quite an eye.

Mind you, you are one of those very
lucky men -

you'd look good in anything.

Oh, my goodness!

MUSIC: Friday On My Mind
by The Easybeats

Go on, give us a smile.

Pop the glasses on.

Flash us the lining again.

A bit more saucy. That's good.
SHE LAUGHS

You are very, very good at this.

Now, Eve needs someone
exactly your height, tomorrow at ten

o'clock. Am I really, though?

Why am I good, do you think?
I don't understand.

What am I doing that's good?
SHE LAUGHS

That's great, Norman. OK, I want you
to turn to the left.

Yeah, that's nice. Hold that.

Oh, gorgeous! You're a natural!

That's great, Norman.

I can hardly believe all the fuss.

I'm just a boy from Bexleyheath,
after all.

Patrick said that they love it.

He said that they love you and they
want you back on Thursday for the

cover! Oh, my goodness!
SHE SQUEALS

Show us more of your left side.
Lean this way.

Yeah, yeah.

Wow, that's great. Oh!

Oh, nice, yes.

We knew nothing about it. Well, we

tried to keep the wedding day a
secret, but you lot outfoxed us.

I had the devil's work, talking him
into a honeymoon.

Jeremy is always so busy.
But not any more.

I must say, what started as a
dalliance has turned into something
quite wonderful.

I may be from Bexleyheath but my
mother became pregnant abroad,

mysteriously, so my father
could be anyone.

Just concentrate, Norman.

Look at me. Leave the ball, leave
the ball where it is.

You've been having too much fun.

Look at me. Mm-hmm. Yeah, OK.

Concentrate.

Sorry. Just concentrate, yeah?

Rupert, my friend, here, look.

And, look.

Oh, good, you see, he's changing the
thingy. As fast as we can now,
thanks.

We don't want to get cold. No, it's
fine, it's fine. We're perfectly
happy. Isn't that right?

Careful. I've got him, I've got him,
I've got him.

He's a bit sleepy. Well, we can't
have that, little chap,

there's a whole world to see.

Well done, you. Celia said she'd
pop in later.

She'll have a fight on her hands,
taking him off me.

Won't she, Prince Rupert?

Are you Prince Rupert or are you
Rupert the Bear?

Hello. Daddy calling. Hello.
Mr Thorpe! Hm? Ah.

And big smile.

You know, it's entirely possible,
between you and me,

that I could be royalty.

Norman! Right, you can take the
glasses off.

I'd like to keep them on, please.
Take them off.

Christ, can we get some make-up
under his eyes, please?!

Well, I'm going to say goodnight.

Oh, Jeremy!

Not till you've danced with me.
I absolutely refuse. But I insist.

SLOW JAZZ MUSIC PLAYS
Well, that is going to wake the
baby. He'd be delighted for us.

Good Lord. You are
making a grave error.

Am I?
SHE CHUCKLES

You see? It's not that hard.

There we go.

Ooh! I'm sorry. You see, it was
inevitable.

I'm so... You did that on purpose.
Not at all, no. You did.

That is me dancing. I'll try again.

Don't try and get out of this.

I said, I'm sorry! You were late,
three times in a row,

and then on Tuesday,
you didn't even turn up.

Sorry, Norman, you're off the books.

Please.

Open the door, open the door, I can
explain.

Please, please, please!
Please, Lyn, please! No!

Lyn!

Shh-shh-shh-shh.
BABY GURGLES

There we go.

PHONE RINGS

Colberton 263. 'Could I speak to
Mr Thorpe, please?'

I'm sorry, he's not in at the
moment. Who is this?

I'm sorry to bother you.

I got your number from the
Liberal Club in Barnstable.

'Is that Mrs Thorpe?'
Yes, and who are you?

My name is Norman Josiffe.

I don't suppose he mentioned me, but
I need my National Insurance card.

'Can you tell him, please?'

'From me, from Norman,
that I need it?'

I've been working in Ireland,
you see,

and everything's gone a little bit
wrong, and I don't think you people

know how it works.

That card says whether I'm entitled
to benefits, and I literally need it

right now!

'I am penniless.' I'm sorry,
I don't understand.

Why would Jeremy have your card?

'Because he was my employer.'

He was my employer and my lover.
HE SOBS

'He told me he loved me again and
again, and I've got nothing.'

All I need is that card and then
I'll leave you alone.

And can you tell him
that I've changed my name?

He will need to put that
on the card.

I've adopted the family name of the
Fourth Earl of Eldon,

who sired me, I'm convinced,
as his illegitimate son.

So tell Jeremy from now on my
name is Norman Scott.

'Norman Scott.

'Thank you.'

LINE DISCONNECTS

Scott.

Mr Norman Scott.

And what did Caroline say?

It's disgusting.

He was absolutely disgusting.

This man has been conducting,
shall we say, a vendetta.

And if he was in any way
trying to make you feel...

I don't care. I don't want to hear
anything about it.

Well, he's obviously insane.

Jeremy, we will never discuss
this in any way, ever.

Is that understood?

Then, what do we do?

We get rid of him. How?

We could scare him.

My friend David, he knows some men.

What? To rough him up, do you mean?

I'm not sure that would work.

Norman? He'd be terrified,
the creature's pathetic.

I'm not sure.
It's an easy mistake to make.

He's effeminate
and therefore we think he's weak,

but that man sits in pubs and clubs

and houses and hotels
telling all the world

about his homosexuality out loud,
all day long.

It doesn't bother him who's
listening -

priests or housewives
or landlords or anyone.

He tells the truth and doesn't care.

No-one else does that, Jeremy.
No-one. Certainly not us.

In this whole land, there is Norman
and Norman alone.

To be blunt, he amazes me.

I think he's one of
the strongest men in the world.

Well, in that case,
there is only one thing we can do.

Kill him.

Oh, if only we could...!
No, I mean it.

We kill him. Have him killed.

Don't be ridiculous.

He will destroy me
and the party and my marriage.

What if the next person he talks to
is a journalist, hm?

For God's sake, Jeremy,
we're Members of Parliament.

We can't sit here and discuss
murder.

No worse than shooting a sick dog.
It's a damn sight worse.

I really don't care. I don't care
if we shoot him

or we strangle him or we poison him

or we bludgeon him or we tie him up
in a sack and drop in the Thames -

there is only one way for us to
survive -

Norman Scott has got to die.
So, how?