Original subtitles

Good night, sweetheart.

All my prayers are for you. Good night,

sweetheart. I'll be watching over you.

Tears and crying may make us alone.

But with the dawn, a new day is born.

I reckon this is the worst party since Charlton Dye's tenth wedding

I mean, where is everyone? Where are the faces?

In the kitchen, of course.

You remember that old Jonah Louie record?

You will always find me in the kitchen, I thought.

Yeah. I wonder what became of Jonah Louie.

Probably still in the kitchen.

Why is it whenever you go to a party there's a completely empty living room

yet the kitchen's like the black hole of Cricklewood?

I think you mean Calcutta.

Yeah, I know.

I just said Cricklewood because...

You know, this is Cripplewood.

By way of being a joke, really.

Oh!

Only there is a lot of Indian food in the kitchen, and I thought that's what

might be alluding to.

Chicken tikka nuggets, I ask you.

My fingers look like I'm on 60 caps from full strength a day.

And the music.

Compared to this, Boney M were talented.

I've got some good stuff, though. Look at this.

Lightning Slim, John Lee Hooker.

Sonny Boy Williams.

You like him?

Gary, people want to dance.

What people?

I don't see any people.

Do you want to dance?

Ron, no, thank you, Gary. I think I'll sit this one out.

In fact, I think I'll give this whole lousy party a miss.

I only got dragged along because my Stella's on the same open university

as our hostess, whom I presume that was. Yeah, I see, Ron. Right.

Nice tight little bum, I thought.

Yeah.

Though she did strike me as a bit of a madam. Yes, yes, I noticed that too.

Anyhow, I took the precaution of sussing out where the nearest real ale hostel

is, so I think I shall repair then.

Do you fancy a good drink? Oh, I'd love one, Ron, but I can't really leave. Why

not? It's my party.

Oh, no.

No, tell me you're kidding.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

So Yvonne, with the tight little bum, is your... My wife, yeah.

What I said about her was completely out of order. Oh, it did. It was, Ron.

They're perfectly accurate on both the madam and bottom fronts.

And if it's your birthday, her bottom notwithstanding, why didn't you insist

Sonny Boy Williamson and pork pies? That's right.

But ever since she started this psychology course, she's become so adept

manipulating me, I can't get a thought in edgeways.

I don't mind my style of doing this open university course.

It's better than when she was out every night boozing and getting into fights.

Trouble with women is they always know how to make men feel like little boys.

It'd be different if I'd ever killed anything.

How so?

Well, I mean, you know, what we men lack in society today is a right of passage.

Our fathers, they did national service.

Their fathers fought in the war.

Experiences which marked their shift into manhood, you know.

I mean, in A Man Named Horse, Richard Harris was suspended by his nipples in

order to be accepted as a saint.

I'd bloody serve if they did that to me.

And then, of course, you've got your apprenticeship system.

I mean, when my grandad, right, he did his five years as a cooper.

Learning to make barrels. Yes, the very trade.

They marked his entry into manhood by coating him in brewer's malt, shutting

in a barrel, rolling him down five flights of factory steps and into the

It's a moment right with symbolism, that.

All right, he was so badly injured he was never actually able to ply his new

trade. I fully comprehend, Gaz.

I think that's why I feel like a man.

You see, I was one of the last people to do the old hot metal print

apprenticeships, after which I was covered head to toe in printer's ink and

thrust stark naked into the ladies' toilet.

That's better than being a cooper, though.

Happy days.

So what do you do?

Oh, I'm in television.

You're not famous, are you?

Have you been in anything I've heard of?

Well, it depends.

You heard of Rumbelows? I'm sorry?

Televisions, plural.

I repair them.

Well, used to.

Seldom go wrong, these days.

And since the Who stopped touring, you don't even get to pick the one they've

thrown out of hotel windows.

It wasn't your apprenticeship capped with some satisfyingly pseudo -tribal

ceremony. Yeah.

Close as I came to a rite of passage with being forced to watch Blankety

the unsuccessful negotiation of which will invigorate new races or a psychosis

in later life.

As we know, the most crass of popular fiction, that the fundamental

motivational factor in male psychological development is the urge to

father and impregnate the mother.

I'm really glad we paid extra for that red -hot Dutch decoder. Gary, if you're

going to be behind with my course, I have to watch this.

Yeah, that's a night of all nights.

It's my birthday. Oh, no, it was your birthday yesterday, remember?

I gave you an expensive Mont Blanc rollerball, and you said in that silky

boy voice you do so well, oh, it's just the job to do my worksheets with.

Well, I'm sorry, Ron, I was disappointed.

When you promised me something sleek, black and German, I was expecting a BMW.

Well, at least a date with Boris Becker's girlfriend.

Don't you want me to get my psychology degree?

Don't you want me to get promoted?

Don't you want us to be able to move off this estate of starter homes into a

house where when the neighbours pull the chain, your shower water doesn't give

you second -degree burn?

Look, all I know, you are never going to get a psychology degree if you lack the

insight that on his birthday, your husband expects a leg -over.

And at the risk of sounding conventional, is sex all you think

Yes.

Except when I'm actually doing it.

Then I think about John Selwyn Gummer. I find it helps me last longer.

John Selwyn Gummer, eh? That's very interesting.

Well, so, open university and closed legs, is it, right? No.

Gary, as soon as I've finished this, I promise to give you such a Theracine

that for the rest of the month you'll be hard -pressed to erect as much as a

satellite dish.

Now, just be patient.

I don't demand physical gratification in the middle of a Super Bowl, do I?

All right.

Well, if I fall asleep, wake me up before you go -go.

Gary? Oh, that was quick. Right, come on.

No, the video's on the blink again.

Oh, is it?

Why is it everywhere you want to find in the A to Z is always in a crease?

Excuse me, I'm looking for Hugh Gatesgill House.

I've got to pick up a telly. Hugh Gatesgill House, yes.

Always admired Hugh Gatesgill.

That shame he died so young. He made a wonderful Prime Minister.

Might have changed the course of British history.

I'm sure, but where's his house?

Yes, of course.

Sorry. Always do tend to go off on tangents.

That's what they said last time I failed my sergeant's interview.

Hugh goes for House.

Yes. Best thing to do is take your first right, first left until you come to

Duckett's Passage. Go down Duckett's Passage, take your first right, second

left, and you can't miss it.

But if you do miss it, ask at the Royal Oaks.

Cheers.

Oh, excuse me, I'm looking for Hugh Gatesgill House.

Hugh Gatesgill House, anyone?

You're a starter for ten.

Excuse me.

Oh, it's a theme pub, isn't it?

Of course it is. Yeah, very convincing.

Oh, hello.

I haven't seen you in here before. What can I get you? Actually, I just came in

for directions. I'm looking for Hugh Gatesgill House.

Oh, sorry. It means nothing to me. Are you sure it's round here?

Well, I asked the copper. He said it was just round the corner.

Sorry. Oh, Dad might know, though. He knows everything, he thinks.

Dad! Oh, for Mo, I'm coming up.

What is it? Oh, this gentleman wants to know where Hugh Gatesgill lives.

Hugh Gatesgill?

Don't ring a bell with me.

Is Hugh Gateskill a regular? No, not Hugh Gateskill. Hugh Gateskill House.

It's a tower block.

A what?

Here, what do you want to know for, anyway? You're not from round these

are you?

No, I'm from Cricklewood.

As luck would have it.

Cricklewood?

That's south of the river, is it?

No. Well, have we declared war on South London or something?

Don't you cheat me, you young pup. I was in both battles of the Somme.

I'm entitled to ask. We've got to be careful.

Careless talk costs lives.

Oh, gotcha. Yeah, I have to stay in period.

Right. Eh?

Well, I must say, you might be taking this 1940s theme a bit too far.

I mean, for a start, it doesn't seem to be much of a hit with a crucial 18 to 25

-year -old.

Eh? I mean, where's the younger generation?

Where are they?

I'll tell you where the younger generation are. They've taken the king's

shilling. Ah.

What's the king going to do when his gas goes out, eh?

takes it all very seriously.

Seriously?

Britain stands alone, girl.

The Hun is poised to invade.

Adolph's panthers are gunning their engines even as we speak. Of course I

it seriously.

And I'd like to know why you're not in blinking uniform.

Oh, um, I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to divulge that information.

Careless talk, all that.

Oh, oh, oh, I see.

Right you are, sir.

Mum's the word.

Does he do how much of dramatics you're doing?

I've got to say, he's bloody good.

Oi!

Ladies present.

Well, I've seen as I'm here, I think I'll have a drink.

I don't suppose you do lager?

Do what?

No, of course you don't.

All right, a pint of best then. Oh, sorry, Dad's only serving half for the

duration. Oh, right.

OK, well, half then.

And how much will that be, pray?

Sixpence eight me?

Where do you think you are, the rich?

It's Tubbins Farthing.

Happy hour, is it?

Happy?

When it went up from Tubbins, there was nearly a riot.

Oh, come on, seriously, how much? I told you, Tubbins Farthing.

Would you excuse me a minute?

Look, there's the entire street on this theme, Mark.

Theme?

All right, son.

Well, you told me to ask in here about Hugh Gatsgall House, you remember?

And they all blamed me.

And they frightened I'm a spy from the brewery trying to catch them out of

character or something.

I sincerely hope you're not a spy, son.

Now, who was it you were asking after?

Hugh Gatsgall, was it?

No, you gave me directions not half an hour ago.

Must have been another Bobby, son.

Half an hour ago, I was doing a bandaging demonstration for the ARP in

Christadelphian Hall.

Standing room only.

That might have been more to do with the appeal of Mrs.

Hardcastle's rock cakes.

Of

course.

It's not a theme club.

It's a dream.

I'm asleep.

Oh, that's all right then.

I wonder if I'll get my leg over that bar, mate.

I'm just going to turn into my Auntie Enid like they usually do.

Significance of that.

Oh, sorry I rushed out like that, but I thought I saw Vera Lynn walking down the

road with Winston Churchill.

It turned out to be an off -duty Polish airman with a roller liner over his

shoulder. Easy mistake to make. I hope you're not gibbering so as I'll forget

that you owe her tuppence farthing.

No, no, of course not. Only, um, oh, seemed to have come out without any

on me. No offence, Constable.

Will you take a cheque? You cheeky Arab, who do you think you are?

Well, if that's a no, I'll have to write you an IOU.

Hey, wait a tick.

Where did you get this?

It was a birthday present.

Here, Red, you ever seen anything like this before?

No, I have not.

As a policeman, I flatter myself I'm on more than nodding terms with pens,

pencils and other writing implements.

Where's the ink go, then?

Made in Germany.

I think you've got some serious explaining to do, Sonny Jim.

No, it was given to me in America.

Oh, yeah, and I've just come back from the moon.

Arrest him, Reg. He's a spy.

Stands to reason. No money, German pen.

Asking for some bloke nobody's ever heard of. Oh, don't be silly, Dad.

Don't you talk to me like that. You'll feel the back of my hand, young lady.

if he was a spy, would he be drawing attention to himself like this? Of

not. He'd have English money.

An indelible pencil.

He wouldn't keep going on about his hairy gasket.

Who asks you? You should be in the kitchen getting my tea.

She has got a point, Eric.

Could be a double bluff, though.

There's only one way to find out. You mean precisely.

Here you are.

Read that, fritzy.

Worcestershire beat Warwickshire by ten wickets.

Sorry we doubted you, son.

What did I do right?

Everyone knows that Bosch can't pronounce their Ws.

If you was a German spy, you'd have said Warwickshire and Worcestershire.

I think you owe him an apology, Eric.

Unless he was born in Germany, educated in England, and then went home to join

the Nazis, there was a flick like that up at the... Eric, just say sorry.

What?

Oh, all right.

But you still owe me for the beer. Yeah, I know.

That's why I was looking for Huey Gateskill. He owes me two quid from

went to the States. Two quid? That's a lot of money. Have you told the police?

He's just telling you.

Right you are.

Well, it's not a police matter.

Well, it will be if you don't pay for your beer.

I'll tell you what, why don't you sell me your Yankee pen?

I'll give you half a dollar for it. I'll give you three bob.

I never said it was for sale. Four and... Four and eightpence.

All right, what do I care?

It's only a dream.

Half a crown, three and six, four bob, four and three pence, four pence, five

pence, three farthings.

I took for the beer. Yeah, I thought you might.

It's a little bit funny, the feeling inside.

That's nice.

Did you learn that in America?

Eh? Uh,

yeah. Well, actually, um, I wrote it.

Have you written any others?

Uh, yeah, I want to say.

And now the end is near, and I must face the final

curse. Hey, hey, hey, hey! None of them defeatist dongs in my pub, if you don't

mind. I'll leave him alone, Dad.

He's talented.

You could be on the wireless.

And now, live from the Café de Paris, the tinkling tunes of...

What's your name?

Oh, Gary. Gary Sparrow.

Phoebe Bamford.

Hi. So what do you do for a living?

Television repairman.

Oh.

Times must be hard for you, then.

Why's that?

Cos there hasn't been any television since the day war broke out, has there?

Dad was really browned off. He was hoping to follow the war on it.

Oh. Well, obviously, during hostilities, I've switched to other things, you

know, like radar.

What's that when it's at home?

Well, it's the radio system used for tracking enemy... Forget I spoke.

Oi! Oi, Phoebe, he's not the only customer and you're a married woman.

We're only chatting.

Yeah, well, make sure that's all you do.

So, where's your old man, then?

Well, last letter I had, he was in Tunisia.

Been gone over six months now.

Bet you miss him, eh?

Of course.

We used to go dancing, pictures.

I'll never get out now.

I could take you dancing if you like.

I've got a car, we could go up west.

You cheeky so -and -so.

We'd have to sit out the flow numbers.

So where's your gas mask, then?

What? Here.

Reg, he hasn't got a gas mask.

Oh, hasn't he now?

Well, well, well.

I think we've got a spare one at the station.

That's not the point. Why hasn't he got one? It's all very suspicious.

I haven't got a gas mask because I'm a claustrophobic, all right.

Oh, so now he's claiming he's from a neutral country.

What? No, claustrophobia is a fear of confined spaces. It's not a place.

Is he telling the truth, Reg? He is, Eric.

I'd still ask him for his papers if I were you. I'm getting really bored with

this. Unless, of course, he hasn't got any papers.

Oh, of course I've got papers.

We German spies never go anywhere without a copy of Mein Kampf, a signed

photograph of Adolf Hitler and a jar of sauerkraut. You cheeky bugger. Oi!

Ladies present.

Leave him alone, Eric. This isn't a police state. Anyone can see he's true

Thank you, officer.

Permit me to buy you a schnapper.

Very amusing. Very amusing.

Well, I ain't laughing. I knew he was the hun. Oh, shut up, Eric. I'm in back.

All right.

Down the cellar, everybody.

Come on, Gary.

Down the cellar? Well, that's not the real... Oh, why are you taking your

It's not a real... It's not a real... That one was too close for comfort. Come

on, Gary.

Come on.

Why are you taking your time?

Come on, get down the cellar.

Two there, you know the way.

Phoebe, where have you been? Come on.

No, I'm not going to like it now.

I really am a claustrophobic.

Oh, look, come on, Gary.

Let me out!

Let me out, please.

I can't stand it. Let me out.

Just let me... Oh!

Oh, what a brilliant dream.

Oh, I was chatting up this gorgeous little bird.

Getting on like a house on fire.

And then there was this sort of air raid siren and the...

My

God, it's real. Are you all right, Sam? Here, try this.

Oi, oi, not so fast. I'm saving that for when the Tommy's marching to Berlin.

I'm dead.

Feeling any better, Gary?

Huh? Uh, yeah, sort of. The panic attacks sort of come and go.

I don't like it down here. Oh, I'm so sorry. If I'd known you was coming, I'd

have the painters and decorators here.

Tell you what, why don't we all have a nice sing -song?

How about Run, Rabbit, Run?

Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run. Gary writes songs.

Well, not really.

Yes, you do. Lovely songs.

Do that one, you know.

It's a bit funny.

Are you sure?

Come on, Sam.

It's a little bit funny.

Feeling inside.

It's all right, I suppose. I still say that words and world don't rhyme.

Unless they do in German.

It really is 1940, isn't it?

My van's parked in 1993 and I'm in 1940.

Hey, I saw that. That's a tunner.

Phoebe, did you bring the tilt tray down with you?

No, I thought you did.

Oh, no, you stupid girl.

But it ain't my fault. You never lay out your sight, usually.

Rick, remember we're going to nick your takings during an air raid.

Oh, but haven't you heard of Goering's crack 15th Airborne Petty Cash Brigade?

Oh, my clever dick.

Listen, I think they're going away.

I'm going up to check the till. Yeah, you've got to wait for the all clear.

It's my pub. I'll do as I Flaming World like.

It's no good. I've got to get out of here. I'm sorry. It's all staying here.

I'm sorry.

Go up there.

I'm just a policeman. That won't take long.

It's like this up Dawson in 33.

The chap who used to break into the morgues and interfere with... Oi!

Ladies' presence!

Stupid, I was giving him the kick of life. The what?

Mouth -to -mouth resuscitation. It's the only thing that... I learnt it in

America. Look, let him.

Don't let him die, Gary.

You've got to hand it to them. When it comes to kissing, they know a thing or

two these days.

What happened? Was this German spy just saved your life?

How? Don't ask.

Why not?

He's brilliantly resourceful, but not very manly.

Oh, my head's killing me.

I'm not surprised.

Look what I had you.

Gary, son, you know you're a hero.

Phoebe, nick down the cellar and fetch that bottle of brandy.

We might as well finish it off.

go. Gary, sing us another one of them tunes you wrote.

Oh, no, honestly, I'll miss my last tram.

Don't be a stranger, son.

Yeah. Come back and see us soon.

Gary, I'll walk you to the tram stop if you like.

Oh, no, don't put yourself out.

You saved my dad's life.

Besides, he got lost coming here in broad daylight.

Yeah, well, maybe just to the end of the street, then, eh?

Do you suppose you ever will come up this way again?

It's not on my usual route.

Oh.

So when you said about going dancing, were you just hugging Mick?

Well, you are married.

This isn't 1993.

No?

What are you talking about?

Oh, nothing. I've just been reading a book.

Except in the future, you know, where women got up to all sorts of things,

whether they're married or not.

Well, it's 1940.

My husband's overseas.

God knows when he'll come home.

And I just thought it'd be nice to go dancing with someone who wasn't going to

try and take advantage.

Well, there is still that tunic a Hugh Gates gives me.

Go on, get back to your dad.

If there's not a pay -rich service van parked at the end of this alley, am I in

deep trouble.

Where the hell have you been?

What time do you think it is?

I was going to ask you that question.

It's half past eleven.

What year?

Gary, what are you talking about? I was getting worried.

And look at the state of you.

Gary, are you all right? Has there been an accident?

No.

I finished my last delivery and I popped into this pub for quite half. Which

turned into half a dozen noisy pints.

No.

Mum, this pub was...

Well, what happened? The landlord tripped and he fell down an open

his cellar. He banged his head. He stopped breathing.

Oh, and I suppose you gave him the kiss of life.

Yeah, I did.

Me.

Gary Sparrow, television repairman.

Back there, I fought for a man's life and I won.

Gary, are you winding me up?

You can't visualise me as a hero, can you?

Frankly, no.

Get those... Dirty overalls off the duvet cover.

Gary, I don't mind if you want to go out for a drink with your mates after work.

You don't have to lie to me. I'm not your mother.

Goodnight, Gary.

Goodnight, sweetheart.

Goodnight, sweetheart.

Sleep will banish sorrow.

Goodnight, sweetheart.

Till we meet tomorrow Dreams enfold you

Remember I'll hold you Good night,

sweetheart