Original subtitles

Good night, sweetheart.

All my prayers are for you. Good night,

sweetheart. I'll be watching over you.

Tears and parting may make us alone.

But will the dawn a new day bring?

Is that you, Mrs Blot? I'm afraid I must remain deaf to your blandishments.

No, my body is the temple of purity.

Even if you offer to reduce my rent... Gary, it's me!

Oh.

Good morning. Oh, wasn't it... What's wrong?

Oh, Gary.

This came this morning.

From Donald?

From the brewery. They want me out.

They say the tenancy agreement was with Dad, and they've only been letting me

stay on pro tem. What does that mean, Gary? Pro tem?

It's Latin. It means for the time being.

Well, what can't they blooming well say, though? What am I going to do?

They've got a tenant lined up already, apparently. He's been with the brewery

years. He just got bombed out. Even so, they can't just fling you out. This is

they can.

And he's a man with a family. Maybe he's more entitled.

What, more entitled than a woman whose husband is incarcerated because he chose

to serve his queen?

Queen?

Oh, I mean, Kim.

Well, I mean, he's probably serving both of them.

Well, I can hardly use Donald as an excuse. Not the way things are now. It

wouldn't be right.

Well, no, but the Royal Oak's your pub.

You must write and tell them. Tell them that place is your home. I can't.

I can't write.

Maybe you didn't realise.

Well, I mean, you can read. I assumed you could write.

I mean, I don't know what words to use.

Oh, sorry. Well, OK, I'll write it.

Look, they're not going to throw you out. Don't worry.

Well, you carry on. You sure you ain't got a crystal ball?

Surely you'd have noticed.

I find it morally indefensible to evict the orphan of a loyal tenant of the

brewery.

Especial.

Oh, bugger.

How was life, Steve?

Didn't hear you coming. What are you doing?

Losing a wrestling match.

What's wrong with the computer? You spent enough on it.

Well, yeah, but I saw this old typewriter in a junk shop for a fiver

suddenly struck me.

Oh, that explains that you can cost.

No, what I mean is this used to be a great manufacturing centre of the world.

What, Cricklewood?

No, Great Britain.

We made everything.

Cars, typewriters, sewing machines, wirelesses, Meccano sets, everything.

And do you know what the lead story in the papers was this morning? A Korean

company is opening in England because our workers accept lower wages than the

ones in Seoul.

We're turning into a third world nation and I'm making a spam.

You're making a mess.

And finally, building workers in the East End today walked off site after a

ghostly figure suddenly materialised from nowhere as they were excavating.

The workers claimed he was dressed in World War II clothes, and when

responded by singing a chorus of There'll be bluebirds over the white

nowhere before vanishing.

I hope you keep your spirits up tonight too. Good evening.

You see, that's why we're turning into a third world country, because building

workers will come up with any old excuse to down through all of them and go up

to the boozer for the afternoon.

Well, you don't think there really could have been a ghost? Oh, Gary, you're so

gullible. There's no such thing.

Oh, no, I just think we should keep an open mind.

Oh, Gary.

Oh, Gary, that's like the brick duster. You've got red dandruff.

Yeah, you would not believe the air pollution in East Germany.

I do miss you, you know, when you go away.

Oh, I miss you too.

But it's nice.

Gary! Because it's fun when I come home again.

Oh, I'll go and get the dinner, Anne. Yeah, all right.

Yvonne? Is that no new coat?

Yeah, new expensive coat.

Come on.

No, no, it's, um... It's nice.

Yes? Gary Compton.

Tower Hamlets Council Environmental Safety Officer.

Now, I understand...

Been in the safety game long.

So what do you want?

To start with, I'm obliged to inspect your toilet facilities.

We don't have any.

Yeah, that's what I was led to believe.

So what do your men do if they need to relieve themselves?

They go up your office and take a dump in your drawer. Any objection?

There's no need for that attitude.

I'm only trying to do my job.

Then you won't mind if I get on with mine.

Who's who, then?

Ah, some officious pillock from the council.

I don't know.

Oh, my God.

What? I just remember where I've seen him before.

He's the bloody ghost.

You must use the force, Skywalker.

What's that, Red? Did you have a curry last night?

What's the matter with him?

Well, as soon as his ear got better, he developed this allergy to hamster.

Want a drink?

Yeah, love them.

Here, Phoebe, have you got a stamp? It's just, uh, I've got my letter to the

brewery here, and it's red hot. It's going to put the cat amongst the

can promise you. This is Banford. I'm a busy man.

Sorry. Oh, Gary, this is George Harrison.

No, isn't the hairs all wrong for a stamp?

I beg your pardon?

Yes. Sorry, just a private joke.

Pleased to meet you, George.

What's your line of business?

Area manager for Hanbury Truman.

The brewery.

Oh, right. Well, I've got a letter here for you.

And what brings you here, then, eh?

Can't wait to throw this poor girl out on her ear?

Mr Spammo.

No, Sparrow.

I'm here because I'm concerned. I knew Mrs Bamford's father personally, God

him. Eric and me were members of the same lodge.

So when, unfortunately, my superior told me how to put a new tenant in, well, I

came round to commiserate.

Yeah, you'd commiserate him when you arrived.

There's got to be something you can do.

I mean, you must have another pub you can put your bombed -out tenant into.

or two, but nothing like the Royal Oak. And besides, it's against brewery policy

to give the tenancy to a woman. I mean, the customers just don't like you. You

wouldn't say that if you knew the rover's return.

All right.

I shall just have to appeal to your superiors.

It won't do any good. I have complete discretion in the running of my area.

Complete discretion as long as you don't have to use your initiative, eh? That's

the ticket.

And is this the attitude that made this country great?

Can you imagine Winston Churchill evicting this trustworthy, hard -working

woman? Or the King? A man who has chosen to stay in London and share the

privation of his subjects?

Why didn't you put any of this in your letter?

Because the ribbon broke.

What you say has moved me, Mr Sparrow.

Sparrow.

Where do you find it, Mrs Bamford?

I know how hard it can be for a woman alone.

My mother struggled to bring up seven after her dad copped it in the Boer War.

But, Phoebe, you don't mind if I call you Phoebe, do you?

No, of course not, Mr Harrison.

George, please.

You're only here on your own.

Oh, well, it can be sometimes.

My job's a bit on the lonesome side, too.

Always on the road, sleeping in scruffy hotels.

When I get home, it's not much better.

The war has played havoc on Mrs Harrison's nerves, and on top of that,

she's got to the age where she's not particularly interested in a healthy

married life.

That's my drift.

Of course, day after tomorrow, the old helmet comes out again.

Back on duty at long last.

Back doing my bit to keep the home front safe and secure whilst our brave lad

faced an implacable foe overseas.

Ah, so the year's finally better then, eh?

Come again?

Looks like they might be sorting something out after all.

I don't know.

I don't smell a rat, Reg.

Shouldn't do. I've fumigated and put down bleach.

I think you'd better go.

I'll pop back on Wednesday afternoon.

You think it over, Phoebe. It could be a mutually convenient arrangement.

Phoebe, what was all that about?

I don't want to talk about it, thank you very much.

Phoebe? I'd leave her for a minute if I was you, Pam.

But she's upset.

In my experience, when a woman's upset, it's best to steer a wide bird for a

couple of hours.

Or weeks.

In your experience?

Excuse me, but aren't you the Reg Deadman whose wife has romantically

soldiers, airmen and the merchant mariners of all the friendly nations?

Not to mention the odd civilian.

Oh, just a word.

One eye, surgical boot. Did that stop her?

But you don't want to hear my troubles.

No, I don't.

One day I will listen to your troubles, Reg, I promise.

They make a great musical.

Don't tell me he tried it on.

He's got a nerve.

Do you know what he said?

He said this landlord over Silverton doesn't even know about the Royal Oak

And if I play my cards right, there's no reason why he should know.

OK, I'll write to the brewery. He'll be out on his ears. It'll be my word

against his. He'll just deny it. It'll be me out on the street.

No, don't worry.

Everything's... Gary!

Now, if you say it will be all right just one more time, I shall hit you.

Look, you've got friends in high places, contacts.

There must be something you can do.

Well, yeah.

Yeah, OK, don't worry. It'll be... Gary.

It'll be sorted out.

Come on in. What are you scared of? Nothing worth nicking, is there?

I got a compressor.

It's a lot of use.

Oh, your bottle's gone.

I ain't scared of no ghost. I ain't scared of no ghost.

Good evening.

to them? Oh, Yvonne, you were right the other night. There's no such thing as

ghosts. Oh, I don't know. I like to think I've got an open mind.

And what about those four kids they interviewed?

Probably on glue.

Yeah, but they all gave the same description.

They were sticking together.

Christmas cracker companies pay good money for jokes like that, you know.

Sometimes as much as three pence.

So if you could sell, what, 5 ,000 jokes, you could replace that new jacket

ruined. Dry cleaners couldn't get the ink off me. No, but for a tenner,

dye it black.

Hello. Yes, that's right.

Um, who shall I say is calling?

Mary Cunningham.

Uh, no, I'm sorry. She just popped out to her phobia workshop.

Yeah, all right. Calm down.

Who is she, then? She's hysterical. Oh, she's just some silly typist from the

office who's convinced Duncan Granger from accounts of sexually harassing her.

Well, couldn't he be?

Well, he doesn't need to harass anyone. He's drop -dead gorgeous.

Even I keep adding my expenses up wrong and I hope he'll come and sit on my desk

for half an hour.

You know, even through his shapeless Armani trousers, you can see he's got

thighs like Michelangelo or David.

Yeah, all right, all right.

No,

I'm sorry, she's gone. Can I take a message?

Yeah.

Yeah, let me just make a note of this.

You're convinced that Mr Granger is parked outside your flat watching you

and no one ever believes you.

You don't know which way to turn, and if it goes on any longer, you're going to

take an overdose.

Come here.

Mary. No, of course I'm not phobic. You don't want to listen to Gary. He's an

idiot. Oh, thank you. Bye.

Mary, I do believe you're very distressed.

Look, if you say it's parked outside, of course I believe you.

Why don't you come and see me first thing in the morning?

I'll be there for you, Mary, I promise.

You are not alone.

No, I'm not referring to Mr Granger.

Now, promise you won't do anything stupid.

everything's going to be all right, OK?

What did she say to convince you?

Oh, I don't believe her. She's barking. I'm just humouring her.

I mean, why should someone like Duncan bother with some mousy little typist

a squint?

What a sexist reaction.

I beg your pardon?

Well, just because this Duncan is a hunk, you can't believe he could also be

sex pest.

And harassment isn't a sexual thing, anyway. It's to do with power, with

terrorising the weak. You take it from me.

And why should I... take it from you. I am a trained personnel manager.

You're a former television repairman scratching a living selling glossy

brochures. Oh, and I'm sure the difference in our status will be a great

to you at the coroner's hearing.

What do you want me to do?

Oh, I don't know. I'm only a former television repairman.

What, you really think she could be telling the truth?

I suppose we could wire her up.

That's a bit drastic, isn't it?

It's not her fault, after all.

Narnie, plant a little tape recorder on her.

So when he harasses her again, it can play a loop that says, not tonight, I've

got a headache.

If he really tries it on, we've got some hard evidence.

Yvonne, that is a brilliant idea. You are amazing.

Outstanding. Why are you so happy?

No reason.

Oh, well, there's nothing else for it.

I don't know. I'm going to tell Gary, though.

You're not giving in to Harrison's vile demands.

No, of course not, Reg. I mean, joining up, becoming a wife or something. At

least I'll get my bed and board taken care of.

Hello? Worry not. Gary is here.

Gary, I've reached a decision.

I'm going to join up.

Join up what?

Reggie's mouth to his brain?

Reggie!

See?

I'm trying to be serious, Gary. What else can I do?

Well? You could visit tomorrow's world today.

Beg your pardon?

What's that?

A tape recorder.

Well, none the wiser.

Well, it's the latest secret American technology.

Say something.

Eh? What do you mean, say something? What do you want me to say?

Eh? What do you mean, say something? What do you want me to say?

Oh, gods and little fishes.

Can I see that? Yeah, be careful.

American? It says here, made in Japan.

Well, yeah, I mean, that shows how secret it is.

But the name is the giveaway if you can break the code.

Sonny, see?

Stands for somewhere outside New York.

Very clever.

Very clever.

So when's lover boy Harrison coming in?

Any moment now. He said Wednesday afternoon.

Does he know that Reg is in the police force? No, he's only ever seen me in

Mufti. How could he guess?

Yeah, that's true. No -one would ever guess.

Even in uniform, it's a bit touch and go.

Here he comes now.

Look, play along with him. We'll have every word on tape. OK.

Afternoon, Phoebe.

I must say, you're looking as debonair as ever.

So, you've had time to sleep on my suggestion.

I only wish I could have slept on it with you.

Oh, you saw Spock's Mr Harrison.

George, please, I told you.

Well?

Well, of course, you're a...

A very attractive man, George. Thank you, my dear.

And it is true it can get terribly lonely for a girl on her own, but what

exactly is it you're suggesting?

Well, I thought I made myself clear.

Well, not really.

All you said was Mrs Harrison wasn't interested in bedroom things. Now, for

I know, you could be asking my advice about hard -to -dance bolsters.

Oh, you little tease.

I see we're going to get over this famously.

Right, cards on the table.

I'll bring my pyjamas and shaving things for popping two or three nights a week.

Obviously, I'll chip in with some rations for breakfast.

Oh, see?

I've completely got the wrong end of the stick.

You want to rent a room?

Don't. You know what I want.

Yes, but a girl likes to be held nicely.

All right.

I want you.

I want to sleep with you.

In exchange for letting me keep the tenancy?

Yes, although I wouldn't have put it in quite such brutal terms.

And if I don't sleep with you, I can't keep the tenancy.

Yes, about the size of it, girl.

Gary, I think we've got enough.

Eh? You sure? Oh, yes.

What are you two up to? What's going on here? Reg?

But if I don't sleep with you, I can't keep the tenants asleep.

That's about the size of it, girl.

So, not only did he make lewd suggestions, he actually exposed

I see nothing of the sort.

I'm afraid it's all on the tape.

That's about the size of it, girl.

Constable Dedman, I'm giving you this for safekeeping. Mark it Exhibit A.

Oh, but you don't understand.

My home life is hell.

My wife doesn't understand me. Don't talk to me about wives not understanding

people. That's no excuse for preying on defenceless young ladies.

George Harrison, you are not obliged to say anything.

Uh, Reg.

Reg, what are you doing?

I'm arresting him, of course.

You can't arrest him. You'll blow my cover.

Oh, sorry.

All right, then, hop it. Can't you tell Blackie? Yes, yes.

You won't say anything to the brewery, will you?

Well, that depends.

If Phoebe keeps the tenancy.

Oh, and, uh...

Gets a couple of free barrels of beer a week paid for by you personally.

But that's... Blackmail.

Constable! Would you call it blackmail, Reg?

Sorry, son, my eardrum's flared up again.

Oh, my hero, come here.

Oh, I'm never saying anything personal to you anymore. I'll never know what

you've got in your pocket.

Well, no, but we could always nip up to your flat and find out.

You cheeky monkey, you trying it on?

Yes.

I really love you, Gary.

Well done, son.

What? Talking out with that Harrison.

Oh.

She's like the daughter I never had, that one.

Good to know she's in Claiborne, if you'll pardon the expression.

Well, it's been a stretch.

Listen, son, I know it's difficult in your line of business, but you will be

here Saturday, won't you?

What Saturday?

Phoebe's birthday.

I know she puts on a brave front, but she'll be heartbroken if you don't make

it.

Saturday.

Yeah. Yeah, right.

I'm upstairs.

You all right?

Feeling up last night?

Yeah, I feel great.

Just fancied an early night.

Oh?

With my husband.

Come here, Gary.

Why? So I can give you a big kiss.

And why would you want to do that? Oh, Gary, you were right about Mary

Cunningham and Duncan Granger. I mean, what a creep, sitting on people's desks

and showing off his thighs.

Oh, right.

What happened?

Well, we might marry up and send her to his office to take down dictation.

And that wasn't the only thing you wanted her to take down?

Exactly. And Mr Littlejohn, the managing director, called him into his office

and we played him the tape. Now, at first, he pretended not to recognise his

voice. I mean, as if.

Suddenly, he didn't. It's like, aren't they? So warm and mellifluous.

All right.

Well, and then he started to bluster.

He said, if you can't sit outside someone's house and take the odd photo

in the garden, then what kind of a world are we living in?

And Mr Little John said, the kind of world in which you'd better start

for another job. And then he stormed out, and then Mr Little John said to me,

well done, Yvonne, and I'll get a gold star at my next performance review.

And that's when I decided on an early night to thank you nicely.

And I've taken tomorrow morning off as well, so we can catch up on some sleep.

Oh, er, yeah, I can't lie in tomorrow. I've got this seriously important

breakfast meeting.

Oh, and I thought you might want to have breakfast in bed.

Well, I'll just have a shower.

Two women, half a century apart, both crazy for you.

You do not deserve this.

Oh, excuse me, madam. Would you be interested in signing my petition?

It's against redeveloping this historic part of London's old East End.

Stop it, Cor.

It's always been horrible.

Pull the old thing down, that's what I say.

I'll put you down as a don't know then, shall I?

Excuse me.

Oh, hello. What would you like to say? Oh, sorry, I'm from the BBC.

I see.

And you're not allowed to have your own opinion.

Under the present regime, it's not advisable.

But that's not why I'm here.

Have you been doing this for long?

What, collecting names? No, it's the first day.

So you haven't seen the ghost?

No, no, I haven't.

But I'm not surprised if restless spirits have been interfered with.

Really? Gary, can I say something?

A lot of people around here died during the Blitz. That's why we're campaigning

to have this building work stopped.

They could be disturbing unseen forces.

I see. Gary, I think that... Experts will tell you it is asking for trouble.

They are digging up the unmarked graves of victims of violence.

They're stirring up something dark, something terrible.

You said experts.

What experts?

Stephen King.

Ah, I see.

Well, wait a minute.

Sorry, Ron, what were you going to say?

Only that you're making a prat of yourself.

But even you've probably realised that.

Come on, I'll buy you a pint.

Or would you prefer a spirit?

What am I going to do, Ron?

I suppose we can't stop them building here.

I'll never see Phoebe again.

A lot of people round here died during the Blitz, and that is why we are

campaigning to stop this building work.

They could be disturbing unseen forces.

Is that enough, or would you like to see it again in slow motion, or we can do

half -speed, quarter -speed, frame at a time, black and white, all colour?

Yvonne... You said you had an important breakfast meeting, and who should be on

the local news?

Yvonne... Why did you lie to me?

I didn't. I did have a breakfast meeting.

Ron and I had bacon butties while we were collating the signatures.

But why?

Why did you turn down a morning in bed with me to annoy passers -by outside a

building site?

Have you seen what they're doing?

It's horrible. Another slice of London's history condemned to the scrap heap. I

felt I had to do something.

Oh, but honestly, blethering on about ghosts and spirits.

Well, somebody had to make a stand.

That's what I wanted you to do this morning.

So do you think your pathetic demonstration achieved anything?

No, not yet.

Oh, you're not going back?

I'm marked. It's Saturday tomorrow.

I mean, West Ham are playing at home and their supporters will sign anything.

It's madness trying this in broad daylight.

This way, with a bit of luck, security guards will have dozed off.

Oh, no.

Where did they come from?

Huntington.

What?

Huntington, New York.

A mate of mine used to work for them. What do we do now?

Go home and get back to bed.

No. We break in and find an alternate route.

my opinion, if you're only going to ignore it.

What are we looking for?

1941, of course.

Oh, no, that's not fair.

There should be a sign. Did you see a sign saying, Guard dogs patrol this

Because I did not see a sign. Gary, signs don't matter.

Get in an arse full of rottweiler gnashes. That's what matters.

Hurry up!

Bloody hell!

Move over, Doctor Who.

Nothing ventured?

Be nice when it's finished, won't it?

Good morning, lady.

Any room for a refugee escaping from the smell of Mrs Bloss's cooking?

You're up early.

I wanted to be the first to wish you happy birthday. Happy birthday, Phoebe.

And?

Ta -da!

That is the smallest one I've ever seen.

Well, there is a war on, you know.

There you go.

All right, birthday girl.

Blow it out and make a wish.

What did you wish for?

What do you think?

I do miss you when you go away, Gary.

I know.

I wish I could be here all the time. Hey, Gary, now, I've told you before.

I don't need any explanations.

I know you're not like that George Harrison.

Whenever he's away from his wife for a couple of nights, she knows what he's up

to.

How would she know?

Well, deep down inside, a woman always knows.

Piece of cake?

I wish it was sleepy.

I only wish it was.

Good night, sweetheart Sleep will banish sorrow

Good night, sweetheart Till we meet

tomorrow

We talk.