Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Arabic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Czech
Danish
Dutch
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Greek
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
Good night, sweetheart.
All my prayers are for you. Good night, sweetheart.
I'll be watching all you.
Tears and parting may make us alone.
But with the coming,
a new day is born.
John wanted you to phone me.
Yes, and instead I decided to call round in person.
Profound apologies, but that's the sort of ignorant git I am.
So what's the panic?
I spent last night stuck in an air raid shelter with an accordion player who did
non -stop George Formby impressions.
So I was late getting home and I'd forgotten the cover story we agreed to
Yvonne. Now, was I supposed to be working in Basildon or Braintree?
Cheltenham.
Cheltenham?
I'm losing it.
Yeah, well, don't get your knickers in a twist.
I haven't spoken to Yvonne yet.
You could tell her you were running guns to Guatemalan rebels if you want.
Ever since I said you could pretend to be working for me to cover your jaunts
war -torn London, you've abused the privilege and been home late every
You don't know that's true.
It's what Yvonne told Stella.
All right, so you do know that's true.
OK, so I've been taking liberties, but it's not much fun for me in 1994 at the
moment. Yeah, well, I'm afraid it can't go on any more.
I'm going to have to sack you.
Sack you?
Reality check, Ron. It's not a real job, remember?
It is as far as the girls are concerned.
Stella thinks I'm a slave -driving ogre who's putting your marriage on the line
by making you work too hard.
But I'm already unemployed.
Do you realise what it'll do to my self -confidence if I can't even hold down a
pretend job?
I insist on a peaceful home life.
If I'd wanted turmoil, I'd have married for luck.
That isn't even making me do my own ironing.
I'd never have guessed.
I'll sort it out. I'll make sure everybody knows that the hours I've
been working are down to me, all right?
Yeah, we'll do it soon, OK?
Scouts on.
My God.
You don't give your employees a chance to rest, do you, Ron?
I'm only sorry we haven't got any children you could send up a chimney.
I hope you don't make a habit of hassling Gary before eight in the
normally like to eat my muesli as God intended.
Without sugar?
Without clothes.
If I have to start dressing, I'll have to start paying the window cleaner.
Good morning, Gary.
Good morning.
Look, it's not Ron's fault I'm working late. My hours are down to me.
And I'm a salesman without a car, so I'm at the mercy of British Rail.
Really?
And selling's a very time -consuming business, especially if you're new to
I can't go anywhere until Ron and I have had exhaustive discussions.
So where are you off to today?
Um, we haven't exhaustively discussed that yet.
Reading? Reading sounds good.
I'll make sure I'm home early.
What? You mean you can actually spend some of your precious time with little
Yeah. Well, tough.
There's a wine and nibbles party after work. So tonight, I'm going out.
It's all right, I think we've lost him. Oh, Gary, you are a terror.
Fancy knocking off an ARP warden's helmet.
Well, he was asking for it, pompous little twit.
Excuse me, would you mind not obstructing the alleyway? There could be
services trying to get through.
You give these guys a tin hat and they look like Churchill.
I'm going to have to start knocking off ARP helmets on a regular
basis.
That's... For a lovely afternoon.
It was only what you was after down that alley.
No tea, your honour.
Well, I'd better get you back to the pub.
I, er... I don't want to go in there just yet.
Well, going in there, back to Reg and all the others, means the afternoon's
over. I want to hang on to it for a little bit longer.
It's been the first time, oh, God knows, that I... Well, I actually forgot about
the war for a little while.
Do you know what I mean?
What? What, what?
Smashing film, wasn't it?
I've wanted to see Gone With The Wind for ages.
Actually, you know, you look a lot like Vivien Leigh. Oh, stop it.
Well, go on, then.
What?
You're supposed to say I look a lot like Clark Gable.
They've attached the Stan Laurels about you.
You can go off people, you know.
What are you doing tonight?
Not a lot.
I want to cook you a meal.
Oh, don't look like that. I can cook, you know.
Come up to the flat at about eight o 'clock.
But aren't you worried about what the neighbours might think?
You know, a married woman entertaining another man.
No, I'm part caring what anyone thinks.
Most of them round here think we're all ready at it, like rabbits anyway.
Do they?
Dirty mind and lot.
Well, I suppose I'd better go in.
I'll see you at eight.
On the dot.
All
right.
Quick bath.
No, I'd better just check.
It's a job that just suits me.
A window cleaner you would be.
If you could see what... God, that George Formby, when he gets in here... I
don't believe it.
Air raid, I've lost nine tonight.
That means we're going to have to share our pudding course with 20 rejects from
Help the Aged.
That means I'm going to be late home again.
Why should I feel guilty?
She's gone out.
Flaming wine and nibble.
Whining about me and nibbling on some bloke's hair, that's fair.
Right, we'll see if you play it like that.
Hello, Gary.
I heard you singing. Has something happened?
No, it's just a tune that was going around my head. What are you doing here?
mean... What happened to the wine and nibbles?
I didn't fancy it.
Something wrong?
You seem a bit down.
No, it's nothing much.
It's just one of those days when you look at your life and you realise it's a
complete and utter mess.
Shall I get you some evening primrose?
I'm not having a period, Gary.
PMT is not the major cause of depression in women.
And it's not likely to be as long as there are men in this world.
Well, I'm sorry.
What for?
I'm not 100 % sure. It just seemed the safest thing to say.
It's about me working all these hours, isn't it? Yes, it's about you working
these hours.
I had realised it was getting on your nerves.
No, you hadn't.
Ron told you it was.
And I know because I told Stella, knowing she'd tell him and knowing he'd
you. Why not just tell me?
Because I'm your wife.
I like to give you the chance to give the impression that you're capable of
original thought.
I'm perfectly capable of original thought. What about... About that
electronic personal organiser I surprised you with on your birthday.
Poor fool.
You really believe you were sent that brochure on a random mail shot?
So once I'd behaved like a well -manipulated little puppet and told you
home early, why did you throw it in my face? To get back at you.
You really don't understand women at all, do you?
Apparently not.
Look at me.
Now I want you to be honest.
Is all this time you're spending at work just an excuse to get away from me?
Now, I know I gave you a hard time about wanting a baby and you're losing your
job. Oh, don't be silly.
Then why are you late home every night?
And I don't believe all that rubbish about selling being a time -consuming
You have never let work rule your life.
It's wrong.
You're right, he's a bloody slave driver. Well, don't let him do it to
Put your foot down. From now on, I promise.
I don't want to lose what I love, Gary.
No, nor do I.
Look, let's go out for a meal together.
Yes, tonight.
No, not tonight.
I can't.
Sorry. Well, I promised Ron.
You said you were going out. And you said you were going to put your foot
Yes.
Right.
I will.
Two birds.
And they both want you in different places at the same time.
It's the classic adulterous dilemma.
I'm not an adulterer.
I never have been. I never will be unfaithful to Yvonne.
Well, not in the same space time continues.
The only course of action I can see open to you is to bite the proverbial bullet
and choose between one or the other.
You have an incredible knack for stating the obvious and taking 20 minutes to do
it. I know I've got to choose, but which one?
Whichever one I reject, I lose.
Yvonne already thinks I'm giving her the cold shoulder, and this invitation from
Phoebe is a pivotal moment in our relationship.
If I cry off, she'll take it as rejection.
Surely not.
Women back then were, ah, a lot more sensitive.
Even so.
Ron, have you ever been romantically involved with a girl born during the
World War?
Partial to the older woman, Gary. Even my upper age limit falls some way short
of 79 -year -olds.
Leave it to one of these, eh?
Gough, ain't really enough to paint you into a corner, doesn't it?
The night Phoebe invites me to dinner is the same night my wife decides to save
our marriage.
God, listen to me, I'm turning into such a chauvinist.
I think your average Cosmo reader would be reaching for the castration scissors.
But your fellow man knows where you're coming from, pal.
If I was a full -blooded chauvinist, it'd be a lot easier.
Oliver Reed would seduce Phoebe over the hors d 'oeuvres.
Then cold -bloodedly see to Yvonne between the coffee and the after -eats.
Keeping a date with both of them. Now that'd be cool.
And I could do it.
There's an Indian restaurant at the present day end of Duckett's Pathage,
So that is where I take it all.
Then I pretend I've got a dodgy tummy, right? Keep going to the toilet, nip out
of the window, go to Phoebe's, then make a similar excuse to Phoebe and spend
the night flitting between the two.
How about frogs?
That double -breasted suit Yvonne made me get for her cousin's wedding, that
should just about cut it in both eras.
I'd only have to keep it going till I pass nine.
There's an air raid then. I can tell Phoebe I'm needed back at work.
It's bold.
It's audacious.
It verges on the lunatic.
But if you can pull it off, it will belong in the pantheon of man's
achievements, along with landing on the moon and making sure women are the ones
who get pregnant.
However, if the bog in the Indian doesn't have a window, you'll be
The toilet's through there, isn't it?
Yeah, that's right, Gary, where it says toilet.
Oh, I just feel a bit... Well, then isn't Indian the best place to be? You
go home if you want.
No, no, no, it's fine.
Ooh, what are you having for starters?
Oh, whatever you're having.
Good evening.
Evening. Can I get you something to drink?
Yeah, I'll have a lager, please.
Gary? Ah, yeah, fine.
Please don't be put off by our lack of custom.
We've only been open for 18 months.
Well, I suppose it takes time for word to get round.
Absolutely. I've got an ad in the local paper, but I think I need something more
direct. You know, leaflets through the letterbox, that sort of thing. Well, if
it's leaflets you're after, my husband can help.
He's the sales... executive.
For a printing firm.
He'd be delighted to help, wouldn't he, Gary?
Well, yeah, I was just going to go to the toilet.
It can't wait, can't it? You don't want to lose a sale.
What sort of things did you want?
Say, 3 ,000 double pages A5 brochures with full colour and laminated paper
and back.
Well, go on then, Gary.
How much?
Well, I need to work it out and I really must go to the toilet. Excuse me.
Don't worry if I'm a little wild.
I thought disguise would be appropriate.
If Yvonne caught a glimpse of me, the whole operation would be blown.
Yeah, did you get the wine?
Vintage Chateau Lego vest.
Take your time.
Invited into Phoebe's private quarters, I thought you might be planning to
finally consummate your relationship with her tonight.
Ron, in the course of the next... 80 minutes, I've got to have two three
meals with two different women whilst commuting between an Indian restaurant
an East End pub that are 200 yards and 53 years apart.
Now, trying to fit a meaningful sexual encounter into that kind of schedule
might just be considered pushing my luck.
Nothing.
The boy's tense.
It's not a good sign.
On the dot, you said. You were late.
Sorry.
You look hot. Have you been running?
Yeah, well, I knew I was late, you know, so... I've got some wine.
Oh, very posh.
You look nice.
Oh, thanks.
I'm wearing those stockings you got me.
They look all right.
Yeah, terrific.
Come and sit down.
So, what are you cooking for us, then?
Well, um, to start, there's MI5 soup.
MI5 soup?
Yeah. Best you don't know what's in it.
Then we're having lamb chops.
Lamb chops?
Where do you get those?
Don't you know there's a war on? Well, the butchers have a few things under the
counter, and I just happened to have a spare barrel of beer at a knock -down
price for his daughter's wedding.
You're not the only one we'll contact, you know.
I want tonight to be special.
Yeah.
I'm going to have to keep nipping out to the phone box at the end of the street.
Why? Well, there's a bit of a flap on at work. They want me to keep in touch.
Well, you can phone from here.
Well, public lines are more secure.
Careless talk, all that.
I won't let it spoil the evening, I promise.
Look, let's open the wine, eh?
I've got a corkscrew in the kitchen.
Gary, this wine?
Yeah, well, I know, strictly speaking, we should have red with dark meat, but I
don't think it really matters, do you?
What the hell with the colour? It's German.
I'm going to kill you, Ron.
Who's Ron?
Ron's my wine merchant.
He's obviously got lumbered with the stuff and tried to fob it off on me.
You ought to report him. He could be a fifth colonist. No, no, he's not. He's
just... Very, very stupid.
Well, I'm not drinking anything that's been trod by a Nazi jackboot. I'm
throwing it down the sink.
Yeah, of course.
Your lucky dad's not here.
Remember what he was like?
He'd have his shot for catching a German measles.
Yeah.
Good old rational Eric.
I do miss him.
The table looks nice.
You're going to have to get your best china out for me.
It's not my best china.
It's my only china.
A bomb went off three streets away. The cat went berserk and knocked all the
crockery off the dresser. You can't get a patient for love nor money.
God, the time.
Hope you like it.
It's, uh, mock oyster, actually.
Mock oyster?
Yeah.
It's made from cod's heads and whale meat.
Lovely.
Careful, it's very hot.
Let's buy it.
Delicious.
Look, I'm going to have to check in at work, OK? I won't be a tick.
So far, so good?
Where did that wine come from?
Freshers. Try Germany.
I'll just give you one simple little thing.
Can you hear that?
Sounds like Cliff Richard.
Shut up, Cliff.
the hand basin in the gents, you know, to wash my hands, and I put my foot up
it to tie my shoelace, and it slipped in and got wet.
Well, you never done that.
Is everything all right?
Are you enjoying your meal? Yes, it's gorgeous. Yeah, lovely, really, really
lovely. Oh, have you done that quote for Sanjay yet? Oh, no, please, don't let
me interrupt you. No, it's okay.
Um, well...
You wanted 3 ,000. 3 ,000.
On the... And then just carry that through.
Is that all right?
You're joking.
Oh, no, all right. Knock 50 off that, then.
I was going to say that's really cheap, but if you can knock off another 50,
that's even better.
Thank you.
So, Neil, more chicken tikka here, please.
You don't look a gift course in the mouse.
What's up, Gary?
Don't you like my cooking?
No, it's delicious. I'm just not a very big eater.
Well, don't you waste it.
Remember what Potato Pete says.
Wasting food is as good as giving it to Adolphe.
Of course.
I'm worried about you.
One minute you bolt your food, now you can't face it, and in between you're
rushing to the toilet.
What are you, bulimic or pregnant?
I'm fine, honest.
Mmm.
Yum, yum.
Is the soup pudding all right?
Lovely.
I wish every night could be like this, Gary.
Sorry about that.
I was listening to live commentary from the match at Highbury.
I suppose it was inevitable that I'd doze off.
I'm a total embarrassment.
And I hope to God I'm suffering from chronic indigestion, otherwise I'm in
middle of a major coronary.
Which way are you headed, past or present?
Present. I've just shared the world's largest suet pudding with Phoebe. Mmm,
suet pudding, smashing.
Not on top of soup, but double chicken teacup, lamb chops, potatoes, peas,
mutton vindaloo and bimbi bars.
Hey, what nettle?
I mean, there's nothing to you.
You're built like a whippet.
I've seen more meat on a butcher's pencil.
Now, listen, I've got to go back to Phoebe's once more. I think the going to
toilet for 15 minutes excuse is running out of gas, if you'll pardon the pun.
So I need to switch to plan B, all right? No, you give me five minutes,
come into the restaurant.
You didn't tell me exactly what plan B entails.
No, I didn't, did I?
You say you like sweet pudding?
Yeah.
Get the bill.
Oh, we can't go now.
We haven't had our coffee and our hot flannel yet.
You've spent half the night in the loo. You're obviously ill, so let's go home.
No, I'm fine, honest.
I won't be going again tonight. You shouldn't have to go for another
I don't believe it!
Oh.
Have you enjoyed yourself?
The few minutes we've spent together have been nice, yes.
How could you do this?
I saw him earlier, and he said he had to discuss business. But I said, no. I put
my foot down. I said, I am taking my wife to dinner. So what does he do? This
tyrant follows us here.
You're a disgrace, Ron Wheatcroft.
Sorry. Is everything all right? Yes. Yes, I'm sorry for the disturbance. I'll
take this outside.
You'd better stay here, love. It could get ugly. Come on.
Brilliant. That was...
Thanks, look, I've got to get round to Phoebe's.
Of course, I don't look like a complete git.
I told you I wanted tonight to be special.
It has been. You've spent your whole time rushing out of here.
I'm sorry, but like I said, there's a flap on at work. You sure that's not
been an excuse?
For what?
Avoiding me.
I wanted... I wanted us to spend the night together.
Tonight. And you guessed that's what this meal was all about.
You don't understand women very well, do you?
Doesn't seem to be a particular strength of mine.
Perhaps you're just not interested in me.
Of course I am.
It's all I've thought about for... Well, not all I've thought about, but... I've
thought about it a lot.
Look, Phoebe, if I have been slow on the uptake, it's because I didn't want to
start something I couldn't finish.
I don't think you'd have that problem at me.
I haven't.
The reason I've had to keep checking in tonight is because we're almost certain
there's going to be a raid.
What's new?
We think the Germans might be using a different kind of bomb.
I'm going to have to go.
They want me for evaluation purposes.
And what time can we expect this, right?
Any second now.
I'm sorry, you should have told me.
Didn't want to spoil our evening.
This bloody war spoils everything.
Look, there'll be other evenings. I'll make sure of that.
I even went to the chemist for you.
There's no need for you to do that.
Why?
Do you always carry a spare toothbrush?
All sorted, then?
I suppose so.
Congratulations, old son.
Men all over the world will be taking a bit more of the duvet tonight.
Ron, I've spent the entire evening lying to and deceiving the two most important
women in my life.
How do you think that makes me feel, eh?
Married with a bit on the side?
Listen. Tonight could have ended in three shattered lives.
But you've managed to sort it so that there's been no casualties.
Be brave.
Hello?
I think I've just become the evening's first fatality.
The voice you hear ranting.
on the other end of this phone.
Stella.
Yvonne has just phoned her and told her how I seemingly dragged you out of the
restaurant.
Consequently, I'm going to go through an experience which can only be likened to
Dante's journey through purgatory.
Sitting next to Graham Taylor on a long -haul flight.
Would I not like that?
Precisely.
Now, the only thing that will sustain me through my misery is the knowledge that
I have helped others.
So I want you to smile, go back into that restaurant, and enjoy the rest of
evening.
You're a good mate, Ron.
Right now, I think I'm the best mate in the world.
Oh, by the way, if somebody asked you to print 3 ,000 double -page A5 brochures
with full colour and laminated paper front and back, could you do it for
Yeah, of course.
If I wanted to go bankrupt.
Why?
I'll tell you later.
Good night, sweetheart Sleep well, banished
sorrow Good night, sweetheart Till we
meet tomorrow
We talk.
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.