Original subtitles

Harvey, why do you miss when my baby kisses me?

Harvey, why does a love kiss stay in my memory?

In the chilly hours and minutes of uncertainty, I

want to be in the warm heart of your loving mind.

To feel you around me and to take your hand

along the sand.

I bet I may as well try.

Catch the wind.

When sundown pales the sky, I want to hide away

behind your mind. And everywhere I look, your eyes

are fine.

For me to love you now would be the sweetest thing.

It would make me sing.

I bet I may as well try and catch the wind.

And finally, Ashfordly Hall opens its doors to the public this week. Trial

apparently. Volunteer, please.

Don't all shout at once, gentlemen.

But where are the others?

What others?

The other police officers.

His Lordship requested a minimum of three.

What Lord Ashfordly requested, what we can spare, are two totally different

things.

These are the mugs, then?

Lovers of England's rich heritage.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Ashfordly Hall.

My name is Verland Scripps, and I'm your tour guide, if you would be so kind as

to follow me.

Right, sir, I'm on my way.

I've seen my morning paper. I think I left... Oh, here we are. I'm off to

Carleton, Sarge. A couple of fire round certificates?

Good. Take Nicholson with you, will you? Show him the ropes.

It does mean at my crossword.

I thought I'd fill in the odd one or two, Sergeant. Oh, by the way, seven

across. It's packing, not package.

Thank you, Nicholson.

Carry on.

Right.

Fiver, if you lose him.

You're on.

Press.

Gently, sir, yes.

Go and stand by the fireplace.

No, I'm the press.

Roy Pulver, Ashfordly Gazette.

Oh, I see.

Oh, well, do have the tour on Noble Endeavours Limited, Mr Pulver. Yeah, I

should think so and all at ten bob of time.

Well, if you mind to take it back where I got it.

Toddy sent his trip with me. Oh, yeah?

Recently? Aye.

October 1949.

He looked me straight in the eye, did Malcolm Toddy. He said, you'll not get a

day's trouble with that.

Here we are.

My father used to have one.

Very nice boy.

You set a cracking pace, Mike.

Ah, AGS 350.

Could be the point.

I can see what the problem is, Tom.

Thank you. I'll get a spanner.

Bit of a no -wall, is he? No, just keen, that's all.

I'll tell you what.

If you ever get fed up with this beauty, give me a call, will you?

Won't you take it now?

P .C.

Alventris.

Eileen Jepson.

I'd like to ask you a question, Mrs. Jepson, if you don't mind.

What about?

That coffee you're making, is there any going?

How kind.

Now, what is this about, opening the house to the public?

Well, His Lordship thinks the rest of us don't know, but he's a bit short on the

ready.

You should try living on my wages.

You should take the tour. It's very educational.

I'll bet it is.

Piece of cake.

I don't mind if I do.

Shall we move on, ladies and gentlemen?

It was actually here, in the long gallery, that Whitby's most illustrious

Captain James Cook... was actually commanded to find the southern territory

of Terra Australis.

Now, as you know, Cook made two voyages to Australia.

Picture the scene, if you will.

The intrepid master mariner, James Cook, has even... Some of these paintings

weren't here in the 18th century.

Well, look.

Picture the scene, you said.

Some of them weren't done when Captain Cook was alive.

Shall we move on, ladies and gentlemen?

This lot from the stage school. They certainly weren't here.

They're 1930s.

All worth a few, Bob, wouldn't you say?

Yes, well, would you like to follow me, ladies and gentlemen?

The theme of shipping in the Ashfordly family continues.

And in fact, Bartholomew Roberts, known as Black Bart, the famous West African

pirate... actually served as a midshipman aboard one of Sir John

ships when it was registered with the British East India Company.

Now you will know of course...

Fiver. How's your start in six months going?

Oh, fine.

What have you got to do? A bit of reading. I know. Grand little shop, that

Perryman. Stucks everything.

I might have a go.

Oh, yeah, why don't you? Have a crack.

Yeah, dinner tonight.

Brown cocktail, coq au vin.

I speak quite a chef, you know. Tom.

Tom! Have you had my biscuits, Mickelson?

Oh, Tom!

I've just had these cleaned two days ago.

Oh, for heaven's sake, man. I asked you to run a simple errand.

Oh, sorry. It was an accident.

Clean this mess up. Bradley, open a window, will you?

Now, where are my biscuits?

In the night, there are sights to be seen.

It's that wonderful picture of you.

You wanted to see me, my lord? Yes, come on in, Scripps.

How went the day?

Oh, splendidly, my lord.

Do you know, I'm constantly surprised at folks' interest in other people's

business. Yes, well, as long as they'll pay good money for it.

How many parties do we have?

Just the two, my lord, morning and afternoon.

We netted 11 pounds.

And tomorrow?

Oh, five parties tomorrow, my lord.

Five. Champion.

Your good health, Scripps.

Yes, and to you, my lord.

And to Noble Endeavours Limited.

My lord, if I were to throw in the words diversification and

expansion into the ring, how would you react?

Cautiously.

Well, allow a couple of phrases to simmer gently in your mind, if you

Safari park.

Air show.

Rock concert.

What's that smell?

Prawn cocktail sauce.

Tom dropped a bottle of it.

Over my desk? Over my uniform.

I'm never going to live this down, am I?

Look, there's a block of air freshener somewhere. That might do the trick.

You remember it, don't you, Mike?

Oh, yeah, Craddock brought it in when we caught that sheep rustler up at

Mountfield, wasn't it?

Did he smell?

Only after he fell in the slurry.

It must still be in the south.

I'll get it.

You'll need a key.

Who's there?

Mike?

Is that you?

Ashfordly estate, my lord.

And its place in farming history.

Another place for his shipping.

Yes, well, minor detail.

I found it in the shed at Lower Farm. I thought it must be agricultural.

Look, I think this is for... Look it up in a book, let me know.

Morning,

Mr Jepson. Morning, sir.

You hold that, and I'll show you, because if I... I've been thinking about

you said last night, Strips, in a rock concert.

I take it you meant Bob Dylan, Isle of Wight.

30 ,000 people paying for the privilege, that kind of thing.

Tell me I'm seeing things.

I think the point is, my lord, you're not seeing things.

Guess who this is.

You're right there, mate. He won't. Bill Weatherby died three years ago.

I'm his nephew, Stephen Collier.

Bill Weatherby? Dead?

Listen, you can grieve for him in your own time. Mine's valuable.

You've taken all the business from him.

Aye.

What have you got?

Four sketches.

Prepared to work for oil paintings.

And they do not come any classier.

John Constable.

And you are?

George Woodford.

Provenance?

Topped in the back of the pictures.

I'm not infected.

And all four sketches were by the same artist, is that right?

John Constable, Constable.

Valued at how much?

At the last count, £3 ,000 each.

My guess is they'd still be hanging on that wall if he'd have sent three decent

officers, I've requested, instead of the one who spent most of his time in the

kitchen.

Can you vouch for your own staff, my Lord? Well, of course I can. Most of

have been with us since the flood.

Except Eileen Jepson.

We took her on a fortnight ago.

Just general duties, you know.

Tea -making, tickets, brochures, that sort of thing.

Have a word with her, will you, Bradley?

Right, Tish.

So, Mr. Scripps, whose idea was this, opening to the public?

Well, it's all going well. It's his lordship's.

When it's going badly, it's mine.

Mr. Scripps, I'd be grateful if you'd accompany us to the station.

What for? Well, it's beginning to look as if our art thief was among the vivid

to the hall yesterday.

In which case, you've met him.

And when you were serving lunch in the long gallery, did you notice anything

odd? No, but then folk in a queue all looked the same to me.

Did any of them ask you about your job here?

More to the point, did you talk to anyone about it?

I don't think I like the sound of this, Constable.

It's purely routine, I can assure you.

Nothing to worry about. All the same, I think you'd better take a few days off,

Mrs. Jepson. My lord, I... I'll be in touch again, soon as all this is over.

No, no.

Scripps, Scripps.

Sorry, Scripps.

Change of plans.

Ladies and gentlemen, house is closed. No visitors.

Turn around and take them away again.

Just pick some of them.

Get them back to the station and get them off my property.

Don't argue with me, Scripps. Get them going. Move.

Right, Mr. Scripps.

Who have you told about this new business venture with Lord Ashfordly?

Friends, family.

No one of a criminal nature.

We'll be the judge of that. Names, please.

Sergeant, look, I know you think I'm hiding something, but my life is an open

book.

All right, one or two pages may be a bit dog -eared, certainly.

One or two of the pages are downright missing, Mr Scripps.

Now, who's been handling the publicity for the Noble Endeavours Limited?

Well, I have.

But it's mainly adverts in the local press. I mean, I don't list what's on

display. Vernon Lippin. Our man is a professional. He knew exactly what he

wanted. Ignored everything else but the sketches.

So, who told them where they were?

How many times have I got to say it?

I'm sorry, I can't help you.

Actually, there was one man that stood out from the crowd.

I'm upstairs.

You're not upstairs. You're in here.

Look. Oh.

What's wrong?

Why should anything be wrong? Just because I'm not where I said I was.

Why aren't you up at the hall?

Well, I've been laid off for a few days while they sought out this burglary.

So I thought I'd come up and see you.

Oh, George.

You wicked, wicked man.

What have you been up to?

I've been proving that there's no master like an old master.

What a waste of time.

Thank you, Mr Scripps.

There's an advert in the local paper he was talking about. I'd like to look at

it. You think he's made the hall sound like an easy target?

Possibly. Ashfordly Gazette. Anybody?

Well, so are you with it, lad.

What the devil's this?

A little egg.

It adds insult to injury.

Sarge, the chief can't go on for it. I'm not surprised.

Morning, sir.

Good job, Crip. I'm not sure that Vernon will see it that way, my lord.

Then the house will then fence everything off at least six feet between

public and the exhibit.

Oh, your lordship, we've now decided that the mystery tool

isn't for holding a cow down during labour.

We can all sympathise with a hard -pressed police force of whom so much is

demanded. However, to see one of its number replete with sponge cake asleep

duty does not inspire public confidence.

Poor old Alfie.

Well, he's not a young man any more, Gina. I keep saying to him, put your

in Alf while you've still got a lust for life. Can I quote you on that?

Why would you want to?

Because I wrote the article.

And you're an ex -copper, and now there's a burglary. I'm doing a follow

Just take me back over what I just said.

You sort of implied that PC Ventress was past it. I didn't say that.

Well, it sounded like to me. What I said was the local force is under so much

pressure these days that it's not surprising. You know, sometimes... Hey,

Ventress. Got your phone calling in now. Can I buy you a pint? If you do, I

shall probably break it over your head.

Can I have a word?

You do realise there's nothing personal in all this, don't you, Mr Ventress?

I'm just a bloke trying to earn a living.

There's nothing personal in what I'm going to say to you.

Good. Then we're looking at it from a similar angle.

I'd hardly say that.

Thanks to my appearing on your front page, I now have to fight to restore my

good name.

Now, apart from taking my photo yesterday, what were you doing?

The guided tour. Why?

So when you left the group to take a snap of me, did you pass the library

the sketches were?

I don't know.

Why not? What if I did?

Well, did you or didn't you?

Might have done.

Welcome to our list of sustrates.

That's outrageous.

This is an article in one of the Sunday papers at Leeds. Oh, yes, I can see it

now. Copper court napping fingers Ashfordly hack.

What about the other photos you took yesterday?

Presumably I wasn't your only subject.

No, but why should I help? Because if you don't, you'll get nicked.

Right, let's see what you've got.

This fellow

with the notebook and the pencil.

Any idea who he is?

None. He's not one of your lot, a journalist.

Here, Oscar, would you give us a hand?

Ring any bells?

I know.

Don't say it does.

Well, I'll be blue.

Well, I didn't think he was still alive.

Let alone active.

Here is George Woodford, Sergeant.

Was that supposed to mean something to me?

Well, you must remember him, surely. In his day, the most accomplished art thief

north of Manchester.

The photo taken yesterday at Ashfordly Hall.

How the devil he slipped past me, I shall never know.

Really, Ventress?

Yeah, I remember. He used to ride an old AJS. He used to use it to get away

cross -country.

Yeah, and we fixed it for him yesterday morning.

Right. Bring him in.

Was it you, Mike?

Sorry? The cell. Could you lock me in?

We do lock.

It's not an answer.

Most of the points, you let me out.

What's wrong? It's my wife. Oh, what has it broke? My car, it's gone. Tom, get

her in the car now.

What about George Woodford, mate? Just get up to his house, talk to him. You

should be able to do that on your own. Just remember, he's 18 years old. I'll

join you when I can.

You're all right, you're cool.

Right,

good luck.

Mr. Woodford?

Hold on, George.

Don't let him free.

Doctor! Why, what's wrong? I thought you were hurt. It's your mate, the gnoll.

He's been hurt.

As you know, this room has one of the highlights of Ashfordly Hall.

Over here, by the window, this table.

Now, this table is the actual table that Bram Stoker wrote Dracula at.

It was given to Lord John Ashfordly in 1899 as a thank you for his stay here

and for allowing him to do his research.

Research into what?

Vampires?

No, Whitby.

And vampires.

This library, after all, houses one of the finest private book collections in

Europe.

So they must be worth a few, Bob. Well, of course they are.

So... How is he? He'll need a couple of stitches, but apart from that, he's

fine. Can you hold the pad, Tom?

Press down on the cot.

Look, I'll take him to the hospital. It's all right. I'm going that way.

And as for you, Mr Woodford... What about me?

Well, for a start, I'll get on to Eileen.

No. She'll have this mess sorted out in no time.

Eileen who? Williams.

No, Jepson.

Eileen Jepson, your cleaner.

Are you all right, George?

Of course I'm all right.

Yes, well, even so, I'd like you to take it easy, at least the rest of the day.

What about this fellow that ransacked my house?

Who was he?

What was he after?

Why don't we talk about that down at the station? Could you both please listen

to me?

George, this is serious. You have to take the rest of the day very quietly.

Well, what do you think we were going to do to him?

I'm sorry, Mike. Where did you learn medicine?

There's no need to have a go at me.

You're too a bickering like my wife and I. Excuse me.

I'll just go and get my jacket off.

Tea would be nice.

Mr. Woodford, this is not a roadside cafe.

Sorry. I'll have whatever's going.

Right. Let's sum up, shall we?

We have some stolen sketches, an attempted robbery, and a serious assault

of my police officers.

Well, nobody could argue against that.

Do you know the man who assaulted P .C. Nicholson? No.

He just came into my home and, uh... He said, where do you keep your money?

So you've never seen him before?

I just said no.

Suppose these events were linked.

I don't hear how they can be.

Well, the sketches were stolen on the very day that you, the famous art thief,

visited the hall.

So? And then your house was burgled. I said he was looking for money.

And not for the sketches which you'd stolen?

No. So we're talking about a coincidence here, are we?

Well, yes.

It is uncanny, I grant you, but then things often are, aren't they?

So, where does Eileen Jepson fit in? Or Williams, as you try to rename her up at

your cottage. It is Jepson, isn't it? Aye.

She's a friend of yours, right?

She does for me.

Mondays upstairs, Wednesdays down.

And she just so happens to work at the hall.

So what?

So suddenly you're not quite so confident, are you, Mr Woodford?

Look, we've no desire to see a man of your years go to prison.

At last, we agree on one thing.

So let me put this to you.

Mrs Jepson stole the sketches because, frankly, at your age, we think it

unlikely... Oh, I do wish you wouldn't keep going on about my age.

Fair enough.

But you're hardly in the prime, are you, Mr Woodford?

So you roped in Mrs Jepson to help you. I think it's about time we had a word

with her.

Ventress, find out where Eileen Jepson lives, will you, and bring her in... No!

No what?

You're wrong about her.

I don't need help.

Help with what?

Don't you know my track record?

I've handled paintings that most folk only see on the floor puzzles.

Or tea trays.

I'll have the real thing pass through my hands.

I don't need help but a few sketches.

So where are they?

In my living room.

And I hide in place between the chimney breast and the cupboard.

Hidden by some loose moulding.

I take it you've seen our friend.

Who is he?

He's the one I told Craddock about.

He was here the first day, asking the price of everything and making notes.

And he's at it again today.

Right.

Could I have water?

Certainly.

What can I do for you?

I believe this is your second visit.

That's right.

You find the place so interesting the first time, you had to come back for

That's one way of putting it, yes.

I believe you were here the day of the burglary.

If you think you're onto something constable, you're wrong.

To have me to leave all my blues behind.

Well, I don't know where they are, do I?

Well, if you don't, Mr. Woodford, who does?

The bloke won't suck in my house, ask him.

You said he left empty -handed and the sketches were carefully hidden.

I was wrong.

And you were right.

You were right, you did tell them.

And he wrapped them up in a, what's it, a tea cloth.

A tea cloth.

It all coming back to me.

So you told him where to find them?

I must have done.

How did you do that?

You had a gag over your mouth.

What? Well, he took it off.

I told him and he put it back on.

No doubt he very kindly replaced the moulding afterwards as well.

Well, I don't know, do I?

People are funny like that.

Mr. Woodford, this is not a game of hide -and -seek, where you steal the

drawings and we have to hunt them down.

This is a very serious matter indeed, which led to one of my officers being

assaulted. You will probably go to prison for your part in it. Oh, no, but

you said you wouldn't want a man of my age. I know what I said, and I regret

Sit down, Mr. Woodford.

Mr. Woodford?

George? It's all right.

I've been expecting something.

I don't know what's going on. I don't think we have time. We'd better take him

ourselves.

Sorry.

How are they?

We don't know yet.

I told you to take it easy.

This is easy.

No.

Still, it's kind of right, isn't it?

Killing over in the country, Nick.

I've been in so many.

You're not going anywhere.

Don't be a daft woman.

It's been on the cards for months.

You told me so yourself.

George, please.

Don't go soft on me.

I couldn't bear that.

All right, George, what do you want me to say?

That I'm glad you decided to go out with a bank?

That's what this is all about, isn't it?

Stealing the sketches.

One last crack.

My jacket.

A letter.

An inside pocket.

To Eileen Jepson?

Yes.

It's my will.

I'll carry it around with me just in case.

Do you want me to send for it? No, no.

Don't think she's in on it.

Just give it to her.

Forty years ago, she'd have suited me down to the ground.

Oh, I'll fill a mic.

further use for it.

It's been quite a week, Bradley.

It certainly has, Sarge.

Young Nicholson assaulted.

Ashford is wretched, drawing stolen.

Twice. The man who stole him the first time, heart attack, was being

interviewed. I've got a feeling the worst isn't over yet.

I'm afraid we've lost him.

He's had a grand send -off.

You going to the wake?

I don't know.

My colleague, Mike Bradley, reckons that he was more than someone you just did

for.

Then your colleague would have been right.

I've known some very ordinary men in my time.

George Woodford was not one of them.

A dangerous man, eh?

Even at 80.

I didn't know excitement had to be for the young.

Do you think he knew him, this man who broke in and tied him up?

I've no idea.

Why? Well, whoever he is, he may or may not have the sketches.

I don't think he has.

George swore that he left empty -handed.

But when Mike couldn't find the sketches, George altered his story.

George was 80.

He was confused, maybe. No, no.

I reckon he thought you'd taken them when he was covering up for you.

Me? A woman who does. If she's thorough, she'd have found that hiding place

beside the chimney.

Now, if you did take them, George is not the only man to bend the rules.

Can't you walk?

Well, for a man of 80, he certainly had some dodgy friends.

Can you look at him over there?

The one facing us? Yeah.

I'm sure I've seen his face on the telly, you know.

Some bank robber, I think.

Gina, that detective's Chief Inspector Barry, Manchester CID.

On the other hand, that proper -looking gent he's talking to is Michael John

Flips.

He'd have robbed his own mother if he knew who she was.

Dr Somerville, there's a phone call for you in the other bar.

Thank you, Sergeant.

I don't approve all the sentimentality about a crime in the class. It seems to

me the world's better off without it. It's traditionally, well, you know,

for, do you think?

Spoken for?

There's an old -fashioned price.

Well, is she?

No, she's not.

You don't sound too sure.

I'm sure.

Thanks, Gina, Oscar.

Duty calls.

Sorry, Tricia.

It's a shame. It's a shame. She's got a girl, isn't it?

A lot on the site, don't you reckon?

I wouldn't have believed he had it in him, the old codger.

He hated doing it, of course.

But he hated paying the greengrocer even more.

Well, why have you brought me down here, then?

Dr Somerville phoned just after she'd been up to the cottage that day.

Wanted me to sort out the mess.

Well, I went up there, left the mess, and rescued the sketches.

So we'd have no case against him?

That's right.

How did you know that they were there?

I'd seen them in his kitchen the day they went missing.

And just in case you lot were planning to search my place, I brought them down

here.

You mean 12 ,000 quid's worth of national treasure are stashed away on a

-riding allotment?

I was going to put them back in the library of the hall one morning, but his

lordship had laid me off.

Then George died and I thought, what the hell, I'll keep them.

No, you didn't.

I did.

I thought if things are going to be like... No, you did not. You never

for one minute that you'd hang on to them. Is that clear?

I thought I'd have known what to do with them any more than George did.

Any more than George did?

He knew exactly what to do with them.

Well, he phoned up his usual dealer, only to find that the man had been dead

three years.

His nephew had taken over the business, wasn't interested.

What's going on?

Oh, for my sergeant's exams.

Oh, give me strength.

That's how the sketches went missing in the first place. You lot not keeping

your eye on the ball. Hey, wait a second. I was there till you took the

outside. You got a problem?

He's here again.

Bold as brass. Look at him.

Taking notes now, totting up everything.

I'll tell you, his lordship's going to come down to breakfast one morning and

find the place empty.

Vernon. We know who took the sketches, and it wasn't him.

Where were they?

On George's allotment, Sarge.

In the shed.

How did Mrs. Jefferson know they were there?

She didn't.

It was pure guesswork on my part, Sarge.

Let's see. What are you doing?

Phoning a fence.

Called Bill Weatherby.

Who, as it happens, is dead.

Good afternoon.

Could I speak to Bill Weatherby, please?

Not without a Ouija board.

I beg your pardon?

Fell off his perch. Three years ago.

Dead.

As the proverbial.

Well, who are you, then?

I take it you do know the line of work that Bill was in.

What have you got?

Georgia and silver.

I'm up at Whitby Market tomorrow.

Fetch it over.

I'll have a look.

Who shall I ask for?

Stall number five.

I reckon he's your man, Sarge.

Why? Because he was the only person that George spoke to about the sketches,

except us.

And what about your new friend, Mrs. Jepson?

Yes, but it was definitely a man who hit me over the head, Sarge.

Do you know him if you saw him again?

Yes, Sarge.

All right.

Whitby Market tomorrow. I'll clear it with the superintendent.

Do you know what a market overt is there, Gordon?

No, Sarge. Well, there aren't many of them, but this is one.

They've established in the Middle Ages, see, they enable anybody to buy goods.

stolen or otherwise, and have immediate title to them, no questions asked.

How's your head?

Fine, Sarge.

Stitches out tomorrow.

Good, good.

It was you, wasn't it, Sarge?

Me what?

Let me out the cell.

Well, I had it done to me once as a young copper.

I said I didn't mind, of course, but I did.

That's him, Sarge.

Our man? Brown jacket and tie.

You sure?

Positive.

Eat up, Ventress. You're on.

There you go.

As always.

Help you? I certainly hope so. I spoke to you on the phone yesterday.

George and Silver.

Right.

Old mate of Uncle Billy's. Yes, well, I'm afraid that I wasn't candid with you

on the phone.

George and Silver, no, but...

Something much more interesting, I mean.

John Constable.

Four of them.

I wondered who it was. Got there before me.

So where are the others?

I left them at the station.

Police station.

Yeah, yeah, that's my baby. Oh no, don't mean maybe.

Yeah, yeah, that's my baby.

Well, not before time, I'd say.

Well, fair point, Scripps. But credit where credit's due. Thank you, Sergeant

Craddock. That's all in the line of duty, my lord.

Now, my lord, may I suggest that we lose the extra security and return to

normal? There's a coatload due in at any minute.

Right -o, Scripps.

Give Mrs Jepson a call, will you?

Very decorative woman. I like her a lot. I suppose she can have her job back.

I don't think she'd be interested, my lord.

What? Well, she seems to have come into some money.

What is it with this man?

Lord Ashfordly. My name's Robert Price.

I'd like a word with you about insurance.

I've got plenty.

Well, that's a matter of opinion, my lord.

Your present cover is arranged through us.

When the hall opened to the public, the premium automatically rose tenfold.

What? The hall either continues to be a public attraction, at ten times the

premium, or else returns to being a private dwelling.

We await your instructions.

Now, listen, mate. There's plenty of brokers in this town, you know, as his

lordship will tell you. You can have my instructions now, Mr Price.

As of this moment, Ashfordly Hall is closed to the public.

Your lordship!

There's been a slight change of plan.

Everybody back on the bus, please.

You'll be delighted to hear that this afternoon's tour is the ruined abbeys of

the Yorkshire Mall.