Original subtitles

Good night, sweet heart.

All my prayers are for you.

Good night, sweet heart.

I'll be watching over you.

Tears and parting may make us alone.

But with the dawn, a new day is coming.

It's a great British breakfast.

Care to join me?

Gary, do you know how many calories are in that?

Yes.

Well, I don't know how you can eat that stuff.

Because it's full of goodness.

It's full of sawdust, if I look at it.

Drink this.

What, and turn it to Mr Hyde? No, thank you.

Go on, drink it.

Give me one good reason. Because it's got extract of royal jelly, guarana,

ginseng, pine bark and coenzyme Q10 in a base of aloe vera.

Yeah, give me one good reason.

Because he's going to make us both millionaires.

Oh.

No, I'm sorry, Mon, even that doesn't quite do it for me.

This is the new age, Gary.

The market in herbal medicine, homeopathy and aromatherapy is worth £72

a year.

And I want my share of it. I want to live in a big house with a big garden

big swimming pool.

Oh, very new age of you.

It's not just capitalism, Gary.

Clyfleth will give 5 % of our profit to Greenpeace.

And Clive says... Clive?

You know, we met him at the Mind and Body exhibition.

Clive is so full of ideas, yet he's so focused.

He knows exactly what he wants and he'll trample over anyone to get it. In a

caring way, of course.

Clive?

But... But what, Gary?

He's got a... Go on, say it, Gary.

He's got a ponytail.

Men have got ponytails.

Lots of very sad men have got ponytails.

Clive is not sad. He's a visionary. He looks to the future.

He doesn't spend his life sitting in little shops selling 50 -year -old

tins and ration books.

No, I happen to like the past. Why?

Well, because you knew where you were then.

Well, I know where Clive and I want to be, Gary, and you'll be glad when we get

there.

Oh, Gary, do you know what that's doing to your artery?

Oh.

What's the matter?

Forgotten the black pudding.

November 1942.

General Patton takes Casablanca.

Applied again, Sam.

It's that man again.

Church bells ring in London for the first time since war began to celebrate

victory at El Alamein. What are you doing?

Well, Phoebe's going to have the baby any day now.

So I'm making sure everything was all right at the time. You know, no

bombs in Stepney Green. I need to know they were both safe.

Look.

It's a sponge.

It's a sea sponge. It's a sea sponge.

Yeah, but it's not just any old sponge.

Sea sponge.

Sorry, just not any old sea sponge.

I'm going to use it when Phoebe has a baby.

What are you going to do, run on a half -time with a bucket?

No, I've been reading about it. When the woman goes into labour, the father is

supposed to do this.

Well, that's going to help her a lot, isn't it?

Phoebe's in the middle of giving birth and you're standing there doing that.

I'm not going to be doing it to myself. I'm going to be doing it to Phoebe.

I thought Phoebe didn't want you at the birth.

Nah, I can talk her round.

Excuse me, but from what I've heard about childbirth, the father's about as

use as a chocolate teapot.

What the hell?

I want to be there.

I love her, Ron.

And the fair Yvonne.

I love Yvonne too.

Anyway, she's OK. She's going into business with this guy. They're going to

a sort of health food type drink. She's really up, really happy.

So, no clouds on the Garry Sparrow horizon, then? No.

Well, I suppose there is one tiny cloud on the Garry Sparrow horizon.

This bloke Clive, who she's going into business with. What?

He's got a ponytail.

Sorry?

He's got a ponytail.

We must kill him at once.

But, you know, it isn't a really bad ponytail.

It's not like one of those ponytails where they go in a bit bald on top, so

tie the two pieces of hair together at the back.

What do you look like, this bloke, apart from the... Eh, quite good -looking, I

suppose.

Health freak.

Fit. Fitter than us?

Ron, everyone's fitter than us.

Good -looking, eh?

Yeah, I suppose so. Works out?

Yeah, especially.

I see.

Meaning? Well, I suppose they'll be travelling around the country together,

staying in hotels.

So? Late -night drinks in the bar, their hands accidentally touching as they

reach for the stuffed olives, one thing leads to another.

Ron, she does not fancy Clive. Ah, but does Clive fancy her? Never trust a man

with a... That's rubbish.

Yvonne wouldn't do anything like that. She's married to me.

What's that got to do with it?

Exchanging vows hasn't exactly stopped you straying from the marital path, has

it? Ah, that's different.

Explain. Because I'm in love with Phoebe.

And Yvonne?

Well, I'm in love with Yvonne too. I love them both.

Talk about having your cake and eating it. Come on, who do you love the most?

Ron, you can't expect me to answer a question like that. Come on, Phoebe or

Yvonne. Ron, I'm a genuine, caring... Bigamist.

I love them both equally.

Look, how can I explain it?

What do you like best, an Indian takeaway or a Chinese?

Now, if you could only have one ever again for the rest of your life, which

would you choose?

You can't expect me to answer a question like that.

You're talking about the two loves of my life.

I rest my case.

Look, can you mind the shop for me? I've got to go downstairs. Sorry, no can do.

I've got an appointment with the bank manager.

Oh.

Problems? No, a little blip in the Weecroft finances.

A tiny cash flow problem.

A slight discrepancy between my incomings and my outgoings. Nothing that

-minute chat over a plastic cup of coffee and a plywood desk won't put

Oh, good luck.

Luck? I don't need luck.

Hello, Gary.

Any news?

Oh, I had a flat tyre on my bike last night.

I've had a shooting pain in my shoulder for a couple of days. No, not you.

Oh, Phoebe.

Midwife's with her now.

What's the midwife with her for?

Oh, she's just given her a once -over.

Having a look -see.

Well, a look -see about what?

Well, what do you think?

Now, Gary, calm down. She's got days to go yet.

Mind you, I don't envy her.

I remember when I had little Frankie. Talk about hard work.

He was a breech birth.

That means he was back to front.

Or was it inside out?

No, upside down.

I even had to go into hospital.

Well, can't we get Phoebe into hospital? Oh, that's a good one, that is.

Gary, she's only having a baby.

Anyway, she wants to have it here.

That's right, in the Royal Oak. Well, I don't mean here in the bar with

everybody having a butcher's. She'll be having it upstairs.

Gary, she'll be all right.

She'll be at home, nice and comfy in front of a lovely warm fire.

She's having a baby, not a toasted tea cake.

My mother had me on the tram to Clapham. She was ever so cross.

Why? Conductor charged her for two tickets.

But this midwife knows what she's doing, does she? Miss Weatherill, she delivers

all the babies round here.

Mind you, right old trout she is.

Reg. Real old betlex.

Reg. You know what I reckon, Gary? I reckon the wind changed and her face got

stuck like it.

Hello, Miss Wetherill.

Isn't it a lovely day?

I've mended my bike and everything.

Would you like a nice drop of brandy to keep out the cold?

Just a drop.

Righty -o.

Hi, I'm Gary Spurrow, the father.

And I'll have a dash of soda with it. Not too much, mind.

Drop more brandy, Miss Wetherill? Yes, just a drop.

So, everything's all right, is it?

Men. All of the pleasure and none of the pain.

Well, excuse me, I'd like to think I do my bit.

Oh, you did your bit all right, Gary.

How do you think she got pregnant in the first place?

Gee, that's rude.

No, it isn't.

Well, I promise I won't get in the way.

What? At the birth, I promise I won't get in the way. Well, of course you

get in the way. You won't be there, will you?

Yeah, well, I know Phoebe's against it, but I'm hoping to talk her round.

A father's place is pacing up and down outside.

That's what you'll be doing.

Well, excuse me, what if I don't want to pace up and down outside?

Then you can go and boil some water.

What for?

To make a change from pacing up and down outside.

Gary, you nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought you were rich.

Oh, disappointed?

A bit.

Mind you, the amount of time you've been away, I've got a better chance of it

being rich.

Yeah, sorry about that.

War work?

Uh, yeah.

I've been involved with the North Africa campaign.

North Africa?

You're not very brown.

Well, no, when I say involved, I mean in the area of telecommunications, aerial

reconnaissance, photosynthesis, that sort of thing.

How are you feeling?

OK. A bit tired.

I'll be glad to get into some of my old frocks again.

Well, so will I.

I'm going to buy you all the dresses in the world.

I'm going to need to blow a big wardrobe then.

Hey, come on. You should be sitting down.

Gary, I don't want to sit down. Come on. Oh, and cushions. You must have

cushions. Gary.

There. Now, what about a nice hot drink, eh? Nice cup of tea. Lovely hot cup of

tea. Stop it.

What? Will you stop fussing me about?

Honest to God, Gary, you wear me out sometimes.

I'm only trying to help.

I know.

I know.

So, have you changed your mind yet?

About what? Having the baby. It's a bit late for that.

What do you mean about me being there when you have it?

Will you change the record?

I'm not having you looking at me like that.

Phoebe, I've already seen you like that.

Look, it's important.

I can be there for you. We can bond with the baby. And I've got this sponge.

What?

I don't know where you get your ideas from.

Well, I bet you in years to come, most fathers will be there when their babies

are being born.

There'll be dim lights, there'll be music.

You'll be telling me they'll have spot prizes next.

Well, that's all in the future, and this is now.

I'm not having you there, and that's that.

Fine.

Gary, don't be like that.

I'm not being like that.

I'm not being like anything.

I mean, what do I know? I'm just a father.

Don't sulk.

You're like a little boy when you sulk.

I'm not sulking.

Look, Gary. I don't want to look, Gary. How can you say that about me sulking? I

do not.

Phoebe.

Margie.

Miss Weatherall.

Rach, what's going on up there? Calm down, son. Calm down. She's only having

baby. There's nothing to worry about.

Can I have one of those?

What? Yeah.

Reg, you don't smoke.

I'm just keeping him company.

Look at his hands shaking. He's a nervous wreck.

Reg, you're supposed to suck, not blow.

Oh, right.

I think I'll get in the hang of it now.

Men.

Reg, do you want to see my sponge?

Oh.

That'd be lovely.

Is it jam or chocolate?

Ooh.

Don't look very appetising.

Is that your first go at baking?

Look, it's a sponge for Phoebe.

I wanted to help her out. Oh, no, there's no need for that.

Isn't there? No, no, I cleaned her windows last Thursday.

They're gleaming.

Reg, it's for mopping Phoebe's brow.

I should be up there now.

Look, calm down, both of you.

Gary, she's not going to have it for days yet.

How do you know?

You told me you were a couple of days early when you had our little Frankie.

Oh, listen to him, the expert.

Anyway, you weren't even there at the birth.

You were hardly there at the conception.

Women, what do they know?

I mean, take Miss Weatherall. All right, so she's delivered all the kids round

here. But she hasn't had one of her own, has she? Never even been married.

Mind you, with a boat race like that, it's hardly surprising, is it?

Talk about the back end of a bus. Rich!

Hello, Miss Witherell.

Another spot of brandy, keep out the cold.

Well, I suppose I've got time for a quick one.

Phoebe? Oh, false alarm.

Told you. I reckon she's not going to have that baby until next Thursday.

How can you be so sure?

I've delivered more babies than you've had hot dinners, and my money's on next

Thursday. Oh, yeah? And who are you, Mystic Meg?

Quite uneventful, really.

What about you?

Well, my day was quite eventful, actually.

Clive and I went to a business seminar.

Really? And we're going to go to another one next week in Harrogate.

Really? We booked the hotel.

Really? Well, it's too far to drive and come back, so we thought we'd stay over.

Oh, really?

What's the matter?

Late -night drinks in the bar?

Well, we might have a drink before we go to bed.

And your hands might accidentally touch as you reach for the stuffed olives?

Gary, you don't... You don't think there's anything between me and Clive,

you? Well, you tell me, of all... Gary, I am married to you!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Oh, I'm doing this for us, Gary, and our baby.

Baby? Well, I'm not talking about now, but in the future. We said we'd try

and I'm feeling much stronger now.

Yeah, yeah.

What's the matter? Don't you want children anymore?

Yes, yes, of course. I want you to be happy.

And we will be happy, Gary, the three of us.

Well, four counting Clive.

Just think of the future, Gary.

A world where no man, woman, no small child or baby will live without the

benefit of this.

And I'm not just talking about this country, Gary. There are others. There

the whole of Europe.

Starting with Poland, my little stormtrooper?

I just want us to be rich, Gary.

I don't want to lie in bed at night worrying about paying the mortgage every

month, thinking about how much money is going in and going out and looking at

bank statements and credit cards and thinking, could we really afford that

holiday? It's OK.

So you don't mind, then?

What?

That I put some of our money into this new business venture with Clive.

Well, how much of our money?

All of it.

All of it?

Well, that's quite a lot of our money, isn't it?

Yeah, well, I know I should have discussed it with you, but I had to make

quick decision and you weren't here. Wait a minute. All of our money?

You hardly know him.

He's got a ponytail.

How can you trust him?

Oh, is there a contract?

Have you spoken to a lawyer?

Don't patronise me, Gary. I'm not stupid. Anyway, did I put you through

third degree when you opened the shop?

Yes. Now you can't imagine it.

Well, the shop worked, didn't it?

I was wrong to doubt you, so now you have got to believe in me.

I'm glad I put my foot down.

Reg, Monty.

Blimey, back again?

Phoebe ought to get pregnant more often.

Meaning? You don't turn up for a week on end, then suddenly you're here every

day. What's the matter with your war work?

Oh, it's all quiet on the Western Front.

So, where's Phoebe? Upstairs putting her feet up, has she? Hope so. That's what

I've been telling her to do. No. They've had a delivery of collies down the

greengrocers. What?

She... Phoebe!

Who? Oh, I've been stood in that queue. What did I end up with? Look at it. It

boiled down to nothing.

Look, just come and sit down.

Don't start fussing me again.

Sorry.

It's nice to take the weight off your feet.

What's the matter?

Oh, it's nothing.

Just... When I was in that key, Mrs Edgar started telling me about when she

her Tommy.

Two days in labour she was.

She went through agony.

Look, you'll be all right.

I know, I know.

Then there was Mrs Dean from Pringle Street. She started chipping in about

twins. The first one came out OK, but the second one I got all... All twisted

up. Listen, nothing is going to go wrong.

And then this woman behind me started saying how her sister's baby wasn't

right, you know.

Not how it's supposed to be. Look, if Miss Weatherall is right, it'll all be

over tomorrow.

You'll be fine and the baby will be fine.

How do you know?

He won't be there.

Clive, I've been talking to my solicitor.

No, no, no, it's not a matter of trust.

Anyway, where have you been? I've been trying to get hold of you all week.

Oh, well, next time you go astral travelling, just leave the answer phone

will you? Now, when are we going to meet up?

Oh, listen, I'll have to call you back.

Oh, hi.

Hi.

What's the matter?

No, no, nothing's the matter.

Anything the matter with you?

No, no, no, I'm fine.

Are you doing anything special today?

No, no, nothing special.

How about you?

No, no, no, just off to the shop.

Just a normal working day, then? Mm -hm, yep, normal working Thursday.

Well, I'd better be going.

Bye. Bye.

Have you seen a sponge, sort of sea sponge?

Oh, that, I used it to wipe down the sink.

Oh.

Well, never mind, it's...

Bloody answer phones.

Gary, I need to talk. There's no time, Ron. The baby is due today.

You're my best friend. I need your advice.

Please, Ron, not now. I can't think of anything at the moment. I need to be

Phoebe. Oh, yeah, for God's D -Day.

Or, to be more accurate, B -Day.

Ron, please. Sorry.

Do you realise she's about to give birth without any painkillers? At home, with

no doctor there. Just some witch of a midwife. I don't know what I'd do if

anything happened to her, Ron. I don't even have my bloody funds.

Calm down, pal.

She'll be all right.

It'll be okay.

In a couple of hours, you're going to be a father.

Yeah, yeah, sorry.

Nearly lost it then.

What do you want to talk about? No, no, it'll keep.

Your need is greater than mine.

Off you go and good luck, eh? Yeah.

Can you mind the shop for me? Yeah, I can mind the shop for you.

Thank you.

I can mind the shop for as long as you want me to.

She started quite a while ago.

And she's in good hands?

Sort of.

What do you mean, sort of?

What the... I tried to stop her, Gary. Honest, I did. I said to her, Miss

Weatherall, I said, have another brandy.

I thought you were trying to stop her, is it? No, no, no. My stopping bit come

later. She started a while by herself. I said, Miss Weatherall, I said, don't

you think you've had enough? And she said no and threatened to hit me.

That was my stopping bit.

Oh, come on, Gary.

Phoebe will be all right. Margie's with her now.

Well, Margie knows what she's doing, does she? Absolutely.

Sort of. Can somebody give me a hand up here, please?

Ron? Hello, Yvonne. Where's Gary?

Over the hills and far away.

Ron, are you drunk?

Getting there, Yvonne. Getting there.

But it's only 11 o 'clock in the morning.

As far as Ron Weecroft is concerned, the sun is well and truly over the yard

arm.

OK, I'll have one as well.

That's my girl.

Are you OK?

What are you doing, you silly idiot?

Calm down. There's no need to panic. She's only having a baby.

My God, she's having a baby.

Gary!

Phoebe, I can't do it.

I thought I could and I can't.

Gary, get here. Hold her hand. Tell her how well she's doing.

So, I can no longer be a further assistant then?

Oh, go away.

Okey -dokey.

I thought you didn't want me to see you like this.

You can see what you like.

I just want to have it.

Is it hard work?

A bit.

Well, they don't call it labour for nothing.

There you go.

Uncle Ron's magic elixir. You could corner the market in alcoholics and

freaks.

Clyde's done a runner.

Never trust a man with a ponytail.

It's not funny, Ron. We've lost everything. All our savings gone.

I can top that. I've lost the business.

They've called the receivers in. The Nostradamus press is no more.

Who'd have predicted that, eh?

Oh, my God.

What? I've just realised I won't be able to print his white five -pound notes or

his ID cards.

What are you talking about?

Gary!

He's doing a line in reproduction memorabilia.

This shop's all we've got now.

And to think I was always going on at him about living in the past.

At least he made a go of it.

What are we going to do, Ron?

Yvonne, I'll tell you what we're going to do.

What? We're going to have another drink.

A drink isn't the answer. It's just a short -term solution.

Agreed. But as far as short -term solutions go, it's up there with the

them.

That's it.

That's it. Oh, you'll be never such a good girl.

Phoebe, are you OK?

A bit worn out.

But I'm getting there.

Gary? Yeah?

Why have you got your eyes shut?

Because I don't like seeing you upset.

I'm not upset.

Open your eyes.

Oh, Phoebe, I wish I could have it for you.

Not half as much as I bloody do.

I don't think it's coming out right.

What? Look, I'm out of my depth here.

I don't think it's going out right.

Margie!

Come on, Miss Weatherall.

Right, we've got to sober her up.

Phoebe's in trouble. We've got to get her on her feet.

She's a big one, isn't she?

Let me walk her up and down.

Look, we need lots of black coffee.

We haven't got any coffee.

We could try all it.

That's not your fleet, Reg.

Put it back to me.

Get off.

If you could try slapping her. It always works in the pictures.

Who are you first? You're kidding.

Miss Witherall.

Miss Witherall.

Miss Witherall!

Have I ever told you you're a fantastically attractive woman?

Ron, are you making a pass at me? Timber!

Oh, we've got so much in common, though.

Like what?

We're both free spirits. We're both drunk.

We'll speak for yourself.

We're both... Broke. Absolutely.

What's Gary going to say when he finds out?

Oh, he'll be all right. He loves you.

Yeah? Yeah, he was telling me the other day.

Really? What else did he say?

I forget.

Well, I don't know what you needed me for.

You seem to have managed perfectly all right on your own.

Well, we didn't have much choice, did we?

Well, I'm off.

Support something to keep out the cold, Miss Weatherall?

No, thanks, Constable. I never drink on duty.

It's not as bad as carrying crates of brown ale up from the cellar.

But it's harder than pushing a bike up a hill.

I know what you mean.

You clever girl, I'm so proud of you.

Kiss it.

Proper little gent, isn't he?

You put me through a lot of trouble, you have, Mr.

I hope you're going to be worth it.

Michael.

If we had a little boy, you said we ought to call him Michael.

Yeah.

Mind you, I did think we might call him Eric, after my dad.

Michael. Michael's daughter.

Nice cup of tea.

Margie, thank you.

Thanks? What are you saying thanks for? I didn't do anything.

Yes, you did.

You helped me out ever such a lot.

Look at me, I'm getting all hot and bothered.

Church bells.

They're ringing for the Battle of El Alamein, aren't they?

No.

They're ringing for Michael Sparrow.

Michael Montgomery Sparrow.

I wonder what the world will be like when he grows up.

Are we not still at war?

We won't be.

There'll be bigger cars and better houses.

There might even be space rockets.

That's right.

We might even fly to the moon.

Walk about on it. Play golf on it.

Silly. I'm being serious.

I know.

Still.

How do we know what's going to happen in the future?

The future's going to be great.

How do you know the future's going to be great?

Phoebe?

I know everything.

Good night, sweetheart.

Sleep will banish sorrow.

Good night, sweetheart.

Till we meet tomorrow.

We talk.