Original subtitles

The late Elizabeth Taylor was an English writer who lived not more than six

miles from me and a fine short story writer she was too.

This one of hers that you're going to see in a moment is so neat and nice and

spooky, I only wish I'd thought of it myself.

A plot like this, though it looks so simple, is very hard to come by and

still to set down in precisely the right manner, giving nothing away until the

very end.

Watch it carefully.

The hunt for Elaine Phillips, age 12,

continues. Elaine has been missing from her home for five days now, and police

today issued another appeal for any information that might help in the

for the Northwood schoolgirl.

Elaine Phillips, five feet tall, slender with short blonde hair, was wearing a

school uniform of grey skirt, white blouse and maroon blazer when she was

seen by two of her classmates.

Rotten piano.

Rotten music.

Rotten Beethoven.

I hate it. I hate it.

Really, Sylvia, you're even worse than last week.

Didn't you practice at all?

A bit.

Rotten, Miss Harrison.

Never make any progress if you don't practice.

It's a waste of time and money.

Do believe I shall have to tell your grandmother that she's wasting her

And my precious time.

Ah, there's Louise.

Now, she's not only dedicated, but gifted.

Proper pupil.

Rotten Louise.

So I crossed the road.

He didn't follow.

I should hope not.

What did he look like?

Oh, dumb and hopeless.

And sort of eager.

Should we tell the police? Do you think they have seen him?

I don't think so.

He might not be the same one.

The poor man looked pathetic. He just stared.

Hello, Sylvia. Hello.

Sylvia is just going. Are you doing fair relief?

I am. It's great, don't you think?

Sylvia will let herself out. We must start, Louise.

And this week, Sylvia, for heaven's sake, do practice.

Rotten Louise.

Rotten Miss Harrison.

Rotten music.

I hate it. I hate it.

She's stuck up.

She's so sarcastic. She sucks up to Mr. Brent.

I do hope you don't think that I've been sounding neurotic, Vicar.

But my granddaughter, well, she does seem to me to be always such a victim,

know. The poor child's had a tough time, Mrs. Wilkinson.

The death of her parents. Two years ago.

Oh, it was a shock, I agree.

But it wasn't as if she was there with them at the time of the crash.

Thank God.

Pat her on me, you know, so that they could go to Greece.

Well, she's very lucky to have had you.

Oh. But after what she went through, it's not surprising that she feels

What was a son of mine could have fathered so unattractive a child?

Mind you, my daughter -in -law was not quite... Well, as you know, vicar, I

never really approved of her.

Thank you for the sherry.

So deliciously dry, as always.

Must you go?

Afraid so.

Parish council.

Oh. Sylvia, darling.

The vicar dropped in.

Say, good evening.

Good evening.

They've been talking about me.

Grandma's so bright and glittery. Did you have a good piano lesson?

Your grandmother was telling me how much you enjoy your music.

It was all right.

She can't have. She knows I hate music.

He's lying. A vicar's lying.

Well, I'm afraid I must be off.

I'll come with you.

I insist that you admire my roses.

Say good evening.

The body of Elaine Phillips, age 12, has been found in Northwood Marshes. Police

and frogmen have been searching the area since Friday.

It is five days since Elaine... Is that all you can ever think about?

Television?

She's back soon. He didn't admire her roses.

I'm sorry, Granny.

Grandma, please, dear.

Granny sounds so old.

How was your music lesson?

She knows.

Miss Scraggin phoned her.

Is this all right?

Miss Harrison didn't think so.

Hello, dear.

Coats are always better if they're put on a hanger, aren't they?

Miss Harrison telephoned me.

Well?

Sylvia, a man followed me.

I'm only asking you about your piano lesson.

I'm sorry.

One makes great efforts to help you, Sylvia.

I ran and ran.

What are you talking about? What man?

I don't know.

I do. I'm sure it was him.

Well, clearly you made the right decision for once.

Never talk to strangers. That's a basic rule for girls of your age.

Your supper's in the kitchen.

Say goodnight.

pretend they're not there.

Pretend nobody's there.

I'm not there.

Nearly missed it.

Him.

Definitely him.

Don't matter.

Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to smoke it.

I know the rules.

It's just to hold... He's talking to me just like that. As if he knows me.

Give us your hand. Something to do.

Don't answer.

He's not here either.

Like me.

Gee, I used to do that when I was a child.

Make myself invisible.

Goodbye, nasty world.

I believe I've seen you before, haven't I?

Wending your way either to or from a music lesson, I imagine?

Don't they wear two? Wear two, miss?

Uh,

the stop before Hamilton End.

Where? Speak up, my darling.

The stop before Hamilton End. It's not just there. Oh, I must be getting there.

Full fare, same destination, please.

That's 30 pence, please, sir.

Thank you.

Any more fares, please?

Great minds think alike.

And what's your name?

We shall have to commit it to memory, shan't we?

A future reference.

When you're a famous musician.

Don't tell him.

Lie.

Like a grown -up.

Lie.

How am I to bear?

Oh.

Oh, then the music case is not your own.

It bears the initials SW.

I observe.

Primitive people often refuse to give their real names. Did you know that?

No. Oh, yes.

To give one's real name to another person is to deliver yourself into

their hands.

They believe.

But we've progressed far beyond that state, haven't we?

Sylvia Wilkinson.

Do you know my name?

It's on your scarf.

So, you see, all is revealed.

One day, no doubt, I shall be able to boast that I once met Sylvia Wilkinson,

the great concert pianist, on a bus one afternoon.

Name -dropping, you know.

Harmless foible of the humble.

Can't someone stop him talking to me?

Who is Sylvia?

What is she that all our swains come and are?

Sure you sing that at school, don't you?

Is she kind as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness.

Love doth to her eyes repair. I take it, madam, you do

not appreciate my singing.

No, I don't.

It's hardly the place, is it?

Hardly the place?

What, bowling merrily along?

All going home to our teas?

Hardly the place to express one's joy in living?

I am sorry.

To listen to that person, one would think we were going to a funeral.

Oh, why are we English? Such a miserable race, I wonder.

Wasn't talk.

Wasn't laugh.

Wasn't hang.

You don't mind my talking to you, do you?

Yeah. You and I will present a united front against the killjoys of this

Hmm?

I'm very fond of children, you know.

But, of course, that's not allowed.

I'm good with children, too.

But that suspects, naturally.

I treat children on my own level.

Sylvia.

But we're not there yet, you know. It's one more stop to go.

Ring the police.

I can describe him.

I know your sort.

Tall, sort of bald, like streaky bacon.

Big eyes.

Yes.

Looking for a 2P?

Go away.

Perhaps I've got one. Let's have a look, shall we?

It's broken.

Oh, no. How unfortunate.

Makes one feel so cut off, doesn't it?

Go away.

I'll scream.

My dear Sylvia, what is the matter?

You!

Be off with you. My dear madam.

Now, you be careful or I'll have to go and find a policeman. Can you possibly

mean I was simply trying to find a 2P for the dear child? Go on, do as I say

be off with you. Go on.

Innocent gesture of friendship.

And as for you, hasn't anyone ever told you not to talk to strangers?

I wasn't speaking to him. Where are you going?

Down there.

Right.

Best foot forward. Come on.

There's a lot of very funny people about these days.

If your mother ever warned you, you're dead.

Oh, dear.

Oh, I am sorry about that.

Well, who looks after you, then?

My granny.

Grandma. Oh, she should know, just like any mother.

Now, don't look behind.

I think we ought to phone the police, don't you?

I was going to.

I think the police will be very interested in what happened on the bus

Oh, you won't get far. You've got my words.

I think we ought to telephone quickly.

This is where I live.

I think we ought to telephone immediately.

But he didn't do anything.

I mean... The police said any information.

In you come.

Shut the door behind you.

Oh, the walk.

And that bus.

Oh. Put the kettle on. And while it's boiling, your telephone.

I suppose so.

What's the matter?

Don't you want to talk to the police?

Don't be shy.

I'll do the talking.

Oh, that's my Joey.

That's my baby boy. Hello, Joey.

You'll feel better after that.

You're very kind.

Any woman would do the same.

And there's some biscuits in my basket.

If you'd like to get them out, you put them on a plate.

And you'll find the plate in this cupboard down here.

My dear, they're clean and bright.

Oh, I must have everything sweet and fresh.

Now, a tailbone.

Oh, there's a bucket of tea in the bottom of my basket.

We can dial 999 while we're waiting, can't we?

Do you think it would be better to phone the local police and ask for the duty

sergeant?

to phone the local police after all.

999 is for emergencies, isn't it? And this isn't really an emergency, is it?

Why don't you put the cups and saucers out?

Oh, you have.

Thank you.

Oh,

funny,

the phone's gone dead.

Really?

You never know where you are, do you? On, off, off, on.

No, then, where was I?

Oh, here.

Ah, here we are.

Five, oh, seven, seven,

one.

Hello, is that the police?

What? Wrong number?

I'm sorry, I can't have dialed. properly.

Hello, Herbert.

You're just in time.

The tea's all ready. Oh, good.

Caught another one.

Do sit, child.

It's the sweetness that attracts them, you see.

And then the stickiness prevents them from getting away.

You haven't had your tea.