Original subtitles

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 dawn,

a new day is born.

Get out of the way, I can put them down.

Oh, look at my nose.

Can you wait till I get my sunglasses?

I told you you should have worn sunblock.

I'm not stupid in sunblock.

Whatever you say, Rudolph.

Oh, God, what a horrible journey.

That's why it wasn't that bad. No, I'm talking about Ron's driving. I've never

hit clear air turbulence on the A40 before.

He's just depressed.

He and Stella aren't getting on. He hasn't got a New Year's Eve party to go

Oh, isn't it pathetic how some people think their life's meaningless if they

haven't been invited to a New Year's rave?

I'm not exactly looking forward to staying in on New Year's Eve myself.

Watching Clive James getting paid to have a good time. Oh, cut the self

Gary. We have got a party to go to.

Yeah? Great. Where?

Stella's.

Stella's? Well, why doesn't Ron know about it? Because Ron's not invited.

Are you kidding?

How long have you known?

Ages.

She won't tell him.

He's my best friend.

Gary, a man's best friend should be his wife.

I think you'll find that pride of place belongs to his dog.

Very much.

So what am I supposed to say to Ron when he accuses me of treachery? Oh, I don't

know. Tell him you didn't know about the party either.

Oh, no.

What? Oh, it's a card from Mike and Audrey.

That's bad, isn't it? Yeah, but we didn't send them one.

Oh, well, it was me.

Where's Mike and Audrey, anyway? Well, they're your cousins from Newmarket.

No, that's Mel and Deirdre.

Oh.

Audrey.

Hold on, wasn't Audrey that loud northern tart with a bleached hair who

at our wedding?

Oh, no, I'm thinking of you.

Don't you start on me just because Stella's giving Ron a hard time.

Well, we're not exactly having a great time, are we? I mean, that wasn't the

most romantic holiday we've ever been on.

I take it you're complaining about the sex department.

No, was there a sex department? I never found it.

Where was it? In the basement next to the health club?

I've got more important things on my mind than your brief sexual

What do you mean, brief?

Oh, I'm sorry, Gary.

I'm really fed up.

Look, I've wasted my entire redundancy pay on that stupid skiing trip, and now

I'm back here in dreary old England, where my life yawns before me.

And I'm jobless and joyless and penniless.

Well, as long as you've got your health.

Oh, I'm going to bed. Will you lock up?

Well, actually, I'm not that tired. I think I might just cycle down to the all

-night chemist's. Don't bother. I'm not in the mood.

To get something for my nose.

I'm so worried.

Oh, I'm back and I'm fine.

Oh, you've liked the necklace, then. Oh, I've worn it every day since Christmas.

Thank you.

Oh, to be with a drop of winter warmer.

Oh, I bet the weather's a bit of a change from Singapore.

Huh? Oh, yeah.

Yeah, a hundred in the shade.

Managed to stay out of the sun as much as possible.

Except for your poor nose, eh?

Now, you'd better not show that on the street in the blackout.

So...

Add things out east.

Well, let's just say they'll probably get worse before they get better.

Still, Singapore will be all right, won't it?

And what do they call it on the papé news?

Pregnable. I think they probably said impregnable, actually.

Oh, yeah. What does that mean, actually?

Well, literally, it means can't get pregnant.

It's hard to imagine the size of French letter you'll need to protect a

fortified garrison.

Can't they?

Which leads me to one of the purposes of my visit.

Ah, Gary, I'm sorry, we can't. I've... I've got someone staying.

Who? Bessie Harding. We were at school together. She's on leave from the West.

Well, where is she now?

In the bath.

Oh. Well, she's enjoying her regulation five inches.

I missed you. Oh, and I missed you too. No, Gary, honestly, we can't. She's,

um... She's Donald's cousin.

Oh.

Well, it's always Mrs Bloss.

I'm not that desperate.

You know how she feels about me entertaining ladies in my room.

Still, I suppose if we don't make too much noise.

I'm not making any promises I can't keep, Gary Sparrow.

I can't stand it anymore. It's like the Russian front in here.

You little squanderbug.

You don't think I'm wrong?

Not doing my bit?

You're doing more than a bit for my morale.

Come and drink your cocoa while it's still warm.

They're calling up single women, you know.

While you were away, they announced all single women were to be called up for

military service or to work in the war industries.

So what? You're not single. I act like I'm single, though, don't I?

Well, poor old Donald's a prisoner of war.

Phoebe, we've been through all this.

You've got nothing to feel guilty about. What we're doing isn't hurting anyone,

is it?

Married women can volunteer, though.

Loads have.

Maybe I ought to. Well, not if you don't want to.

Only the thing is, Gary, I... I couldn't bear it if they sent me away somewhere

and I couldn't see you whenever you're free.

Come on, Phoebe, you're talking like I'm the only thing in your life.

That's because you are.

I've got a bone to pick with you.

Oh, Mrs Bloss, I'm glad you're up.

When are you going to get somebody to put a new washer in my tap? It's like a

Chinese water torture.

Don't try it on with me.

You know my rule about women in your room.

Only one at a time, you mean?

I mean no more for your lip.

This is a fragrant act of immorality.

And as for you, Mrs Bamford, I heard everything you know.

Those bed springs were twanging away like George Formby's ukulele.

For God's sake, make George Formby out of this.

And you were burning both bars of your electric fire.

Don't you want to win this war?

Phoebe, you go on outside, I'll catch you up.

I've told you before about going into my room.

It's my room, in my house, let to you under my term, which do not include

corrupting young married women when you should be at the front...

You're just taking advantage of me because I'm a woman on my own.

Well, maybe we should ask why Mr Bloss can't stand to live with you.

Oh, Dad.

My Cyril copped a packet in Flanders.

He should have taken precautions then, shouldn't he?

He was killed at the Thong when the Middlesex Regiment went over the top.

But I've met Mr Bloss. He's in the AARP.

That's my brother -in -law.

Not that it's any of yours.

Look, I'm really sorry. Sorry?

You don't know the meaning of the word.

I want you out of my house by the end of the week, or I'll have the police see

you. And I don't mean Reg Deadman.

I mean a proper policeman.

This is a very common problem among... Oh, it's not, is it?

Well, you said you were going to an all -night chemist. I didn't expect you to

stay there all night.

Yeah, well, I just ran into somebody I knew. We went for a drink.

Oh, yeah?

Who?

Er,

Mike. Mike who?

Well, Audrey's Mike. You remember?

As soon as I saw him, I thought, oh, yeah.

remember him. He used to play centre -half for the old Cricklewoodians.

Anyway, he's having a lot of trouble with his Achilles tendon, so we were

discussing this ointment. That's enough, Gary. I can't take all this excitement

on top of Anne and Nick.

I see you're still in that happy holiday mood.

Well, I'd better get going. I want to get all the stock on the shelves this

morning. Oh, why don't I come with you?

Eh? Well, I'm at Loose End and I could help you today.

And I've still got a driving licence.

Yeah, but the East End's dangerous.

Now, I'd be worried about leaving you alone in the shop if I had to pop out

a sandwich or something. Oh, don't be... Easily, Gary. I mean, I'm not made of

porcelain. At least the East End's got a bit of life to it. I mean, the

highlight of the day around here is five o 'clock when Coffee Cutters reduces

the price of its perishables for a quick sale.

Is there any reason for the Humphrey Bogart impression?

I just thought it might attract passing trade, that's all. Oh, well, I'd better

go for a quick wee before the rush starts.

I expected it to be fairly quiet between Christmas and New Year.

Oh, what? The Blitz memorabilia business is seasonal, is it? Does it tend to

pick up during the January sales?

Look, there's no point in you hanging around here getting bored.

Shouldn't you be out looking for a job? You can get on my bike, if you like.

Find a job. Why didn't I think of that?

Hey, this is just the ticket.

Educated lady with well -modulated voice, required to do a little light

and make endless cups of tea for upper -class company director.

£3 .50 in a week, plus hat allowance.

We'll give him a ring.

Is that all you think I'm worth?

I'm sorry.

Sorry? What am I supposed to say?

Oh, George, not me.

If you want me to go, just say so.

Well, of course I do. Why should I want you to go?

I don't know.

Maybe you think I've got a woman stashed away somewhere. Is that what you think?

No, I think I'm pretty safe from another woman as long as you dress like that.

Right, I'm off. I know when I'm not wanted.

It's on.

Was it something I said?

No, it was something the midwife said.

I believe her exact words were, it's the boy, Mrs Wheatcroft.

Gary, remember, mum's the word.

Mum's the word for what?

Oh, Yvonne was just reminding me of her favourite champagne.

For New Year's Eve?

Yeah. Going to a party, are you?

No. No, just having a quiet evening, yeah.

Yvonne hasn't told you then?

Told me what?

Stella's planning a surprise New Year's Eve party.

Can you have a surprise New Year's Eve party?

Well, if it's a surprise to me, I'm not invited.

I only found out because the postman said he'd see me Sunday night.

She invited the postman and she doesn't invite her own husband.

Yeah, that is a bit rough.

It's as rough as a bear's arse.

Gary, I don't suppose you could get Yvonne to interpose with Stella and

case?

Well, I'll try.

I'll be forever in your debt if you can fix it, Jim.

You could keep an eye on the shop for me, if you like.

I'd love to.

Can't think of anything I'd rather do in my lunchtime than spend it in the

retail version of the Mary Celeste with a rumbling stomach.

Well, forever in my debt, eh?

Suppose I bribed you with an extra Christmas present.

Ah, but you've already got Stella and me an electric toaster, oh, magnificent

one. And has it given you much pleasure?

Let's just say nothing else has popped up in our house lately.

Got this on my last trip back before Christmas.

For me?

Carrie!

Gazza! Old pal!

It's brilliant!

Do you know what these things fetch nowadays?

Price is irrelevant where friendship is concerned.

Anyway, it only cost me ten and sixpence.

Swift craftsmanship.

A tick you can hear.

17 jewels meticulously assembled by a highly skilled horologist.

Who needs disposable Japanese chronometers that tell the precise time

different zones?

The only thing is, it's running an hour fast.

Do it now.

No, it's not fast. It's just set for 1941.

You see, they had British summertime all year round. They were always an hour

ahead. Why was that, then?

Well, two reasons.

A, the lighter evenings help reduce the number of road accidents in the

blackout, and B, it will enable me to see the New Year in with both Phoebe and

Yvonne.

TTFM.

Gary, thank God you're here.

What's up? Where's Phoebe? I don't know. She just asked me to hold a fort for an

hour. Look, I'm on duty in five minutes. You'll have to take over. What? Now,

beer's just gone up again. I've written the new prices on the back of me hand.

And you'll leave your hand behind, will you, when you go to work?

Ah,

Phoebe.

You've got me into trouble, you have.

Um... Well, have you been to the doctor's?

What?

Oh, the labour exchange.

Why?

Mrs Bloss's brother -in -law's the deputy manager.

He shouldn't have been so cheeky to her.

She told him all about us.

She told him we were... You know... What?

Aren't you supposed to be on duty in five minutes?

It's all right.

I'm on traffic this week and there ain't any.

So, this morning I got this telegram from the Ministry of Labour and National

Service.

And when I went in, Mr Bloss took me into this big office and warned me that

I, we, you and me, you know... Well, I don't

know. It's embarrassing.

Look, this is about you two carrying on. Everyone knows about that.

Then what did he say?

He said, uh... He said single women have to join up.

And if I'm going to behave like a single woman and a loose one to boot, he'll

see to it I get conscripted.

He said... He said... Oh, he said the Royal Artillery are looking

for young women to man the ACAC batteries in Grimmside.

Don't cry, Phoebe.

The Royal Artillery are a fine body of men.

Phoebe, he can't do that.

He says he can. He says he's got discretion under the regulations.

He says if we stop seeing each other, he'll lose my file in the pending, but

we carry on... Carrying on?

Then my feet won't touch the ground.

I thought it was your feet not touching the ground got you into this trouble.

Reg!

Please. I don't know what to do.

If we can't see each other... No, don't worry. I'll go and talk to Mrs. Bloss.

Well, that won't get you very far.

You mocked her, Cyril. She'll never forgive you for that.

Thank you for that constructive comment, Reg.

She's a very proud woman.

Do you know, she's never claimed any of her war widow's pension, even though

she's entitled.

It's funny when you come to think about it, because she hates taking in lodgers.

Shut it, George.

I don't suppose we've had any customers.

Customers? I've been rushed off my feet.

Five seconds after you left, that Steve of Spielberg came in with his whole

design team.

He's making a new war film and he wants your entire stock.

I charged him half a million. I hope that's enough.

If your late husband had been killed fighting for king and empire...

Why wouldn't you claim your war widow's pension?

I give in. What's the answer?

I don't know either. I've only just worked out the question.

No.

No Cecil Block in our records.

No, not Block.

Bloth. B -L -O -F -F. First name's Cyril.

Oh!

Bloth! You should have said.

Deaf old sod.

I'm a bit hard of hearing, you see.

It was the artillery barrage at El Alam.

I'm really sorry.

What?

Nothing. Oh.

I suppose you don't know the day he fell.

Sorry. Oh.

Oh, I hate this thing. Do me out of a job, it will.

Makes you think, doesn't it?

What?

How lucky we are.

In years gone by, every generation of British male has known that sooner or

later their metal would be tested in the heat of battle.

But not us.

Well, you speak for yourself. I've lived through the Blitz.

And I've got doodlebugs to look forward to.

Unless you get called up in time for D -Day.

Oh, here we are.

Two Blossies.

Henry and Cyril.

Both joined on the same day, giving the same address.

Property brothers.

There is, dear.

It says here, though, they both survived the Great War.

Oh, that's good news, isn't it, Ron? Wonderful news, Gary.

So what became of the Bloss brothers?

John Belushi died of an overdose.

Oh, now.

Oh, I've just wiped the entire 3rd Battalion off the computer.

Hold on.

Here we are.

Henry went back to Whitechapel.

Cyril went to live in Luton, then in 1953,

Henry passed away.

Cyril's record lapped in 1967.

When he died?

No, when he became a hippie and moved to San Francisco.

Do you know, I think I remember Cyril at one of our reunions. A game little

fella he was, yeah.

Demon at the okie -cokie.

Brought his wife with him too.

Oh, very chic little French lady she was.

Probably better over there.

More than likely.

Thanks very much.

What do you think?

And I thought you said he was brighter than Ron.

Hi, Stella.

Hi, Gary. I like the nose. Comic relief time again, is it?

So what do you think?

Well, yes.

It's good.

I wish you consulted me first, though. Oh, I consulted you over the sitting

room, and what was your suggestion?

Brown and cream is very tasteful.

For a pub in wartime.

Bless him.

Did you talk to Stella?

No, we worked in complete silence.

I mean, if I'm wrong.

Yes, I know.

Gary, would you make us a cup of tea, please?

Yes, of course.

Oh, you married an angel, Yvonne. Ron would rather dehydrate than put the

on. Look, Stella, Ron is really depressed. Right.

And depression is anger channeled inwards.

Well, you've only got to look at Ron to see he's got a lot to hate himself

about.

Do you know, Gary, when I met him, he weighed ten and a half stone. He used to

run six miles a night.

Ron? Mm -hm. Why did he stop?

We moved nearer the pub.

Surely there's more to a marriage than a mere outward physical appearance.

Would you sleep with him?

Milk and sugar?

Well, cheerio then, Mrs Blush.

I'm off to join the ranks of the homeless.

You can forward my post underneath the arches, Charing Cross.

Don't expect pity from me.

Why don't you go and live with your fancy, P?

What, in Grimsby?

Grimsby would do her good.

She's no better than she ought to be.

Couldn't really commute to London from Grimsby, but Luton, now, Luton isn't a

bad journey.

Luton? And I hear there's a very nice French lady who rents rooms out in

And, you know, by an extraordinary coincidence, she goes by the name of Mrs

Bloss as well.

Don't go messing with a secret service, Toots.

My contacts go way beyond Stepney Labour Exchange, Mrs Bloss.

Now, you tell your brother -in -law to leave Phoebe Bamford alone, or

otherwise... Or what?

You'll tell everyone my husband ran off to live bigamously in Luton with a

French tart?

Do you think that'll hurt me more than the life I've had to live for the last

years?

I was a young woman.

I had my looks.

I'm still not old. I've still got my... You know.

My yearnings.

Your earnings? What have your earnings got to do with it?

No, my yearnings.

My wants and desires.

Oh. How do you think it feels when I have to listen to you two young people

here canoodling when I've got nothing to keep me warm at night but memories and

a hot water bottle?

There's still no reason to be so vindictive.

You know, your brother -in -law was jeopardising his employment and his

abusing his position like that.

I should have been fired.

Oh, no, you mustn't do that.

He was just trying to help.

Promise you won't tell anyone about Cyril.

I couldn't bear it if everyone started to feel sorry for me.

All right, I won't tell anyone.

Not even Mrs Bamford?

Maybe not.

You don't have to go, Mrs Barrow.

It's rather nice having a young man about that.

It's OK.

Everything's cool.

Cool?

What do you mean?

Well, sorry,

I mean tickety -boo.

Oh,

carry on. Well, I'm not at liberty to say, but the next time we're at Mrs

Bloss's and you feel the spirit move you, don't feel you have to keep

buttoned up.

Oh, no, I'm not going there again.

But Betty's gone back to her unit, so when everyone's gone, how about you and

go upstairs and just take out the fire and... Well, I...

I'd love to, Phoebe, but I've got to get back to HQ by one Akema.

But it's New Year's Eve.

Well, the Japanese don't work the same calendar as us. As far as they're

concerned, it's the 15th of Ying Pong Ting and business as usual.

You'll have a drink, though, won't you?

See the New Year in. Well, of course I will.

Come here.

Oh, I can't help myself, anyhow.

People make a lounge on New Year's Eve.

You made any New Year's resolutions yet?

I've no time to think about it. Well, I have. Come here.

Oh, you're so scientical.

Large one for me.

Reg, you must be a mind reader.

I'll send all my loving to you.

All my loving I will give to you.

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year, darling.

Nothing wrong now.

Look, I really ought to be getting a move on.

Well, all right soon, then.

Yeah, are you going to get back to the office?

Well, they're sending a staff car for me.

Oh, very lardy, darling.

Shut up!

What time did you make it?

Ten past eleven. Great. Can you get me the harrow before midnight?

No, sweet.

Here.

Sparrow for harrowing.

Sorry.

Sorry. Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry, could I...

It's Wynne Campton.

What? Oh, on business, of course. Look.

He's out of weight. You know what wrong friends are like.

And where is wrong? I don't know.

You don't mean Stella went through with this band?

No, of course not. You told him it could come on the average show. No. So she

went out to find it.

Stella! Inside.

No. I tried all his usual hoards, but nothing.

Oh, shut it. Look.

You know he begged me to invite him. Now he's probably lying plastered in some

edge. Hello, Gary.

Hi. I'm you, you turn -up.

He's so dependable, you're going.

You can set your watch by him. Well, I won't go that far.

Well, God, Ron, I'm going to get the badly out of the fridge.

I'm sorry.

What's all?

For being a bit hard on you sometimes.

I'm going to try and appreciate you more next year.

I mean, you've managed to get all the way back from Wincanton, and Ron can't

even make it from...

Very sorry. What the hell happened to you?

And it better be good.

My watch stopped.

Good night, sweetheart.

Sleep will banish sorrow.

Good night, sweetheart.

Till we meet tomorrow.