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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.
Cup of tea?
Wasn't it my turn?
Yeah, probably, but I had to get up anyway.
To go to work, you mean?
Whereas I don't have a job, and I'm never likely to get a job, because at
age of 32, my life is meaningless and futile and short over.
OK, tomorrow, you make the tea.
I'm sorry, I didn't sleep very well. I had a rotten dream.
Well, the one where you're being chased by Johnny Depp and for some reason can't
make yourself stop running away.
What?
I dreamt I landed a really high -powered job in an incredibly glamorous company
with a convertible Mercedes, a huge office, a big clothes allowance and lots
money and status.
That's all it's ever likely to be, isn't it?
A dream.
Well, of course not. You're bound to get a job sooner or later.
There might be something in the post to cheer you up.
Who do we know in Penzance?
Oh, tricky one.
How to find out? Well, two options spring to mind.
We could have a seance or you could open the envelope.
What's the point? It'll only be a rejection letter.
Here, Mrs Sparrow. Thank you for your application for the post of personnel
controller.
Unfortunately... Why are you going to finish it?
Why? Good letters don't begin unfortunately.
What do you think he says next?
Unfortunately, the post of personnel controller is filled.
Also, we can only offer you the position of managing director.
I wish I was dead!
It's on.
Why are you going to read the rest of them? What's the point?
You can if you want.
Just better have some positive mental attitude.
I don't need it here.
See?
It's all right.
I've got plenty of others.
I've got some patients.
Ah, no point, eh? Look at that.
Sim Yong Electronics!
That's great!
It's fantastic!
In fact, it's a miracle.
I didn't apply to Sim Yong Electronics.
I've never heard of Sim Yong Electronics.
Oh, haven't you? I thought I heard in that big new factory over in Hatfield. I
read about them in the paper.
Hold on.
You applied on my behalf.
Well, you've become so dispirited lately, so I asked Ron to run off a few
slightly improved CVs.
Oh, Gary.
This is brilliant. I hardly recognise myself.
Well, that is because you'd started to lose faith.
You remember you can do whatever you put your mind to. Oh, Gary.
I don't deserve you.
Don't be silly.
You're not usually so quiet.
Just a state of mild shock. I only popped around for a couple of days.
It was better than tea, wasn't it?
Phoebe, you're turning into a proper sore spot.
Well, that's your fault, isn't it? I was sweet and innocent before you turned
up. I think you're still sweet.
I've got to get back to the ministry by two.
Gary, have you ever thought about having children?
As far as I know, it's a medical impossibility.
Oh, you know what I mean, you silly apron.
If you know, I could get a divorce or something.
I'm not getting any younger.
No? Well, you're pretty active for an old biddy, I must say.
You must be pushing, what, 27?
Oh, 27 ain't young.
My mum had me when she was 19.
Time to change.
I expect after the war, women will put off having kids until we're into their
30s. Oh, you and your after the war. I don't care about what other women do
after the war. I care about us. About what we do after the war. ...from the
East that soldiers of the Japanese 229th Regiment broke together 20 Allied
prisons at war and banished them to death during the Christmas Day invasion
Hong Kong.
Staff and wounded were similarly killed at an Allied medical station.
Got to win the war first. Yeah.
I've been standing out there for nearly an hour. I'm sorry. I just popped round
to Phoebe's for a cup of tea.
I brought your new catalogues over.
You've been demoted to delivery boy, have you? I had to get out of the
can't bear getting all those pitying looks from the workforce.
Stella's still giving you a hard time.
Alas, yes.
It is still all quiet on the bedroom front.
Note that that should be interpreted as meaning that when we lie in our marital
bed, the six inches between us feeling as wide as the English Channel, But we
lie in non -communicative silence.
On the contrary, we talk incessantly about our marriage and what's gone wrong
with it.
I continually press Stella to say what it is that has made the passion that
characterised the first flush of our marital relationship fade to nothing.
And last night, at last, she told me, in brief, what it is about me that
irritates her so.
She says, and personally, I find her accusation unfair and without
That I am boring.
Gary, my ego is feeling fragile enough without you pretending to fall asleep.
I wasn't pretending, mate. Sorry, if you could just recap.
Stella thinks I'm boring.
Oh? I mean me, boring.
anything so absurd?
Not since John Redwood ran for Prime Minister, no.
So what are you going to do about it?
That's exactly what Stella said.
But what can I do?
I can't transform myself.
I am what I am.
One of the things that Stella used to find attractive about me was that I know
lot of stuff about a lot of stuff.
But apparently being married to a polymath East Ethan philosopher is no
turn -on for her.
You are no longer Arthur Miller to her Marilyn Monroe.
Precisely. Maybe she's hankering after children. You thought of that?
Of course I've thought of that.
Well, have you discussed it at all?
Of course.
As a matter of fact, I asked her about it last night. So what did she say?
She said, I do want children, but not with you, you fat bastard.
Afternoon, Mr Sparrow.
Long time no see. How are you then, sir?
Fine. No hard feelings?
Hard feelings?
What, about the time you arrested me for drink driving, even though I had no
intention whatsoever of driving, with the result that I lost my licence, my
and very nearly my wife?
No, no hard feelings at all. Good, as long as there's no hard feelings.
He's not very good at detecting irony, is he?
Oh, I wouldn't dream of attempting detective work, sir. Not my forte at
No, I'm here in my temporary capacity as crime prevention officer.
prevented any?
Well, my very presence on the streets must go some way to moderating the crime
rate, and of course the police force as a whole is much better equipped than of
late.
I've certainly been issued with riot wigs.
You should see the size of my new extendable baton.
Well, don't show it to Ron, he's feeling inadequate enough as it is.
So what can I actually do for you? It's what I can do for you, Mr Sparrow. As
TPO, my role is to advise you on security for your shop.
Now, Are you alarmed?
Well, a bit, Minerva. I don't think you're taking this very seriously. This
very high -crime neighbourhood.
Now, your locks, what are they, chubs?
Ronnie's talking to you.
And the back door, where does that lead?
1942.
Fair enough.
Not my job to force security on you if you're not interested.
In the old days, a copper was treated with respect, but now...
Different when my dad was on the beat in the 60s. Then this was a lovely area.
You could go out, leave your front door unlocked, you could walk the streets at
night and you'd be certain you'd be safe.
Really? Oh, yeah.
Cos if you got up to no good, Ronnie and Reggie would send the boys round, pull
out your fingernails.
Happy days. Yeah.
Even during the war, Grand had always said there wasn't much crime.
Well, perhaps there wasn't much to Nick.
What do you think, Gary? You were there.
Hello, darling.
Glass of champagne?
Uh, yeah, thanks.
You'll never guess where I've been.
Where? Hatfield. I phoned Sim Yong this morning, and he offered me an interview
today.
And it's all because of you.
How'd it go?
Fantastic. I met this really nice man, Mr Schick.
Well, he spoke English, didn't he? Oh, yeah, he was a real charmer. Yeah, I'm
sure he seemed charming.
Look, do you really want to go and work for a bunch of jerks?
Gary, that's a bit xenophobic.
Well, you know what they're like, deep down.
Formal and distant?
No, bloodthirsty and alien.
You're not Syrian.
They don't think like us.
During the war, they thought it was demeaning to let yourself be captured.
That's why they treated our POW so callously.
Oh, Gary, not the war again, please. It was 50 years ago. To you, maybe, but to
many people... My grandad was in the Burma campaign, and he drives a Toyota.
You've got a Sony TV, a Seiko watch, a JVC stereo, and... a Nokia telephone.
Nokia is a Finnish company, actually. I don't give a stuff.
Now, if they offer me this job, I'm going to take it. Okay?
That is if you don't spoil things.
Doesn't matter what I think, does it?
Yes, it does. Mr. Shit wants to meet you.
It's a very family -orientated business, so he's invited us for dinner at
Hiroko.
They only serve Japanese food.
That's probably because it's a Japanese restaurant.
You know I can't use chopsticks.
You're not that much good with a knife and fork.
Now, if you dare show me up.
All right, I'm sorry. Just being irrational, I know.
Oh, come here.
No, you've ruined the moment now.
Oh, look.
Oh, about time. Now, where's my beer?
Do you know, I... I've got a pub full of people here.
When?
Are you sure?
Well, I... I must have been out.
No, of course the beer ain't there now.
Are you calling me a thief?
Oh, you have got some nerve.
Tell me this.
He says the Drayman left three barrels of beer on the pavement yesterday at one
o 'clock.
Well, there was nothing there when you and me... Barry,
he says the drayman was knocking from half past twelve.
Not only the drayman, eh?
Dear, oh, dear.
You know what this means, don't you?
Someone's come along and stolen your beer.
I don't know what the world's coming to. Wasn't like this when my grandpa was a
peeler. Mind you, they had Jack the Ripper then. He kept people off the
at night.
Another rum, Reg? Oh, no, I shouldn't. Yeah, go on, then.
Well, work yourselves.
I'll just say it's going to be a tough job being a copper after the war.
You're right there, Reg.
What sort of a world are our children going to inherit, eh?
What future will there be after the war for an honest East End kid?
He'll probably become a stockbroker.
Stockbroker? Yeah.
If he's not too honest.
Mind you, I wouldn't be at all surprised if your son followed in his father's
footsteps and became a policeman.
That will never happen, Gary.
Why not?
The Wilkinsons' daughter's getting engaged, isn't she? Perhaps they have it
way with my beer.
Because I haven't got any children, Gary, that's why not.
Are you sure?
I think I'd note it.
My mini, you see.
Well, doesn't she want children? No, she can't have them.
Which is probably just as well, considering how friendly she tends to
her allies.
But you don't want to hear my problems.
No, no, I do, Reg, I do. Come and have a seat.
So how do you feel about not having kids, if you don't mind my asking?
Well, a bit disappointed, I suppose.
I'm the third generation of Deadmans in the Met, and there isn't going to be a
fourth. Unless you split up with Minnie and meet someone else. Oh, no, I
couldn't do that. The Commissioner takes a very dim view of divorce.
Oh, right.
Reg, can I speak to you man to man?
Of course you can.
Was Minnie your first?
I've only been married to one.
No, I mean your first girlfriend.
Blah! Of course she wasn't. My first girlfriend was Sheila Cox.
She was a little smasher. Inseparable we were.
Ah. And did you and Sheila ever... Ever what?
Well, you know.
No.
Ever do it?
Do what?
Reg, did you and Sheila Cox ever have carnal knowledge?
Don't think so.
Mind you, it was a long time ago.
We did the four R's.
The four R's?
Reading, writing, arithmetic and Raphael work.
I don't remember anything called carnal knowledge. Maybe Sheila did it when she
went up to grammar, but I never passed the scholarship.
How old were you and Sheila, Reg?
Nine, when we split up.
Well, not to beat about the bush, and I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to
you here, Reg.
Have you ever had sexual relations with anyone other than Minnie? What's that
got to do with you?
I'm not at liberty to say. You're checking up on me. I can't discuss the
of my work, Reg. You know that.
But I have reason to believe that you have a past.
It's important, Reg.
All right.
There was someone.
I'm not proud of it.
I was already married.
So was she.
She was a lady bus conductor.
Used to catch her trolley nearly every single day.
She had such a nice smile.
Lovely way of saying, I've got room for a little one downstairs.
Yeah, I'll bet you... Sorry, go on.
Margie Hook, her name was.
She was married to a bus driver, but she weren't happy.
And then one weekend, he went off on a trade union conference and me and Margie
had a bit of a fling.
And then he started to suspect something and he put his foot down.
I hope he wasn't driving at the time.
And then they patched things up and they moved away.
Any idea where?
Somewhere back beyond.
I had a postcard once. It was a nice little town. They had a Woolworths and a
picture palace.
What was it called?
Gaumont.
No, what was the name of the town?
Oh, I can't remember.
Saint something.
St. Leonard's. St. Ives.
St. Louis, Missouri.
Oh, got it. St.
Reetham. St. Reeth... You mean Streatham, you pillar!
Excuse me.
Could you tell me, do you have a Mrs. Margie Hook working out of this garage?
I know, might you be?
She's over there.
Oh, come on, Margie, get a blinking move on!
Better get your skates on then, ain't ya?
We're in for a little one downstairs.
Where to?
Oh, just a few stops.
Here, give me a penny.
Actually, I think we have a mutual friend.
Who's that?
You remember Reg Deadman?
He still speaks very fondly of you.
Well, that was years ago.
Did he send you?
No.
But you should have told him about the baby.
He'd be pleased as punch.
To keep your voice there.
That's me old man driving the bus. It took me months to betray him that he was
the father.
Who are you?
How do you know, anyhow?
We have our ways.
Oh, lummy.
Look, I'm not here to make any trouble.
It's just we're vetting Constable Dedman for a possible job in intelligence.
We are talking about the same Rich Dedman.
Do you know anything about him that might suggest he could be a risk to
security? You're joking.
Rich Dedman's as straight as a die.
Yeah, he does seem a nice sort of chap. Oh, yeah, he is.
Funny we've met a few years earlier.
And yet you've never told him about his little boy?
Look, I've become quite fond of Reg during this investigation.
Do you know his biggest regret is that he's never had any children?
Funny he could know, eh?
I couldn't. I couldn't take the risk, me old man. He'd kill me.
I promise you, your secret will be filled with after they're my clients.
Frank has got a union meeting tomorrow night.
Excuse me, are these spare maps?
Yes.
Don't want them falling into enemy hands now, do they?
Oh, there you are.
Thank you very much.
Come again soon.
You don't really think this Margie's going to turn up and present Reg Deadman
with the fruit of his loins, do you? She said she would.
She won't. You don't know that. Things do go right sometimes.
Do they?
Give me an example.
Yvonne's on the verge of a great new job. She'll blow it.
I've just been given £180 for a free bus map.
A lot of forged 50s going round.
I take it this gloomy outlook means that you and Stella haven't overcome your
communications problems.
Au contraire.
We've overcome them, all right. We're communicating loud and clear.
So loud, in fact, the neighbours are complaining.
We won't need Rupert Murdoch's much -vaunted digital highway to improve the
clarity of our discourse, I can tell you. So what's she saying?
She said she can't go on much longer living with a fat, boring, flatulent,
dressed Scouse Noah.
Pretty unambiguous, wouldn't you say?
Not necessarily.
No, it may just be a hint that you should lose weight, buy a new shirt and
up eating curry.
Ah, but then I wouldn't be the man she married.
Ron, she doesn't want the man she married.
Look, I want to get down to the Royal Oak before Margie turns up. Can you do
a favour and lock up the shop? Oh, and if Yvonne should call for any reason,
tell her I've gone to a Second World War propaganda poster fair in Stoke Poges.
I'll be home about 11.
I wish my life could be simple like yours.
Going for the road, Reg? I'm on duty, Gary.
I've been on duty for the last half hour. My sergeant was to pop his head
Ah, but he won't, though, will he?
He said yourself the only thing that gets him out from behind his desk is an
raid. Well, how about a short, eh? Phoebe, have you got any scotch behind
counter? Kerry, let him go. What has got into you?
Oh, Reg, nearly forgot.
I think I've got a lead.
I never even knew you had a dog.
Classic.
No, no, I made a clue about the stolen den.
Really? Oh, now you're talking.
I don't know how it slipped my mind, but on the day of the robbery, I was just
strolling down Duckett's Passage, and I saw these three big blokes, each rolling
a barrel of beer along the cobbles.
Of course, I didn't think anything of it at the time, because then I didn't know
anything about the robbery.
Gary, what are you talking about? Now, can you describe these three suspects?
Er, yeah, one was about five feet eleven, and he had this... Oi, oi, oi,
This is a pub, young fella, me lad.
No place for nippers.
Ow!
Hello, Reg.
Long time no see.
Margie? I was just visiting an old school pal and I remembered you used to
in here.
You wanted to see me?
I wanted you to meet little Frank.
Why?
How
can
they do that sort of thing?
I think the Japs are worse than the Germans.
Don't know the half of it yet.
Phoebe, why don't you put the paper down? You'll only upset yourself.
You don't think the Japs will ever try to invade England, do you?
Didn't you do geography at school?
Boys did geography.
We did needlework.
Oh, naturally.
I think Reg will be all right, Gary.
How do you mean?
Well, he was a bit shaken up, wasn't he?
Do you think I did the right thing?
You mean loosening his clothing and splashing his face with cold water?
Yeah. It soon got him round, didn't it? No.
I think what you did was wonderful.
Tracking her down like that.
Turn up for the books. They're having his nipper, eh?
Yeah. Complete bolt from the blue.
Oh, and the banged blade.
Did it?
I'm not simple, Gary.
You knew, didn't you?
I can't say, Phoebe. You know that.
Do you know, it sends shivers down my spine thinking you're part of this great
big secret organisation that knows everything about everybody.
I bet you know all my little secrets.
All of them.
I bet you don't know what I'm thinking right now, though.
I can't really, Phoebe. I'm on duty anyway.
I don't think about you know what all the time, you know. No.
What I want... What I was thinking was how much joy there was in Reg's face
he realised he had a son.
Wouldn't you like to have a son, Gary?
Play football with him.
Teach him how to play the piano.
Yeah, of course, one day.
He'd bring children into an uncertain world like this.
I know, I know.
But afterwards, wouldn't you like us to have a little baby?
Assuming your thoughts are worth a penny.
Oh, it's just, you know, musing on the odd fact that the Japanese, a nation of
immense cultural and technological achievements, think that fish taste
raw. Gary, you promised you wouldn't spoil things.
I won't say another word after Mr Charm Offensive comes back from the bog, don't
you worry.
interesting article in The Economist yesterday about the productivity growth
made through the use of small, multi -skilled teams. Hold your horses, Mrs.
Farrell. This is not an interview situation.
It's a meet -the -husband -and -see -if -he -fits -into -the -corporate
-philosophy situation.
Well,
Yvonne's the one you're going to be employing. What does it matter what I'm
like? It is the same young way.
Oh, I see.
Now, have a look at the menu, or would you like me to be mother? Yes, please.
Gary? Okey -dokey.
Good. You like tuna?
The tuna sashimi here stop whole.
Lovely. Is it humanely caught?
Come again?
Well, the nets used in some parts of the world to catch... to catch tuna or some
trapped dolphins who drown in the murderous embrace of the unbreakable
With respect, Mr Farrow, does it matter?
The only fish... Only fish?
They're mammals.
Didn't you ever watch Flipper on TV when you were a kid?
But then I suppose the Japanese have a different attitude towards the animal
kingdom, don't they? I mean, they do eat whales.
Gary, I really think we should change the subject.
No, Mrs. Sparrow. If your husband has a bee in his bonnet by Japan, he should
express it honestly and fully.
That is the Sim Yong way.
Am I right, Mrs. Sparrow?
Do I detect a certain animosity towards the Japanese?
Animosity? Me?
Which is because they brutalised and murdered hundreds of thousands of
of war.
Why should I feel animosity?
Well, thank you, Gareth, for losing me this job.
He wanted me to speak honestly.
It's the sim young way.
It's the two bottles of sarky. Have no fear, Miss Sparrow.
I like the cut of your husband's jib. I'll cut his jib off when I get him
Oh, do you like it?
Absolutely.
I'm with you, Miss Sparrow.
Frankly, what the Japanese got up to during the war was not cricket.
But then, the Simeon Corporation is, as I am myself, Korean.
Mrs. Price, welcome to Simeon.
The job is yours.
Can
I ask
you something?
Why does your wife never speak?
She doesn't understand English.
She's Japanese.
Good night, sweetheart.
Sleep will banish sorrow.
Good night, sweetheart.
Till we meet tomorrow.
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