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What time do you call this? You're three hours late home.
Take it easy, Tracey. It's only quarter to nine.
Well, there's nothing to eat now, so I hope you ain't hungry.
No, you hope I am hungry. Well, I ain't.
I had one of them Cornish Pasty ice creams up the pub.
What?
You know, the ones they microwave just long enough so the outside burns your
mouth, but the inside stays as cold as polar bear's wobbly bits.
Mind you, come to think of it, it tasted a bit like polar bear's wobbly bits.
You are going to be really one of these days, the muck you eat.
Get it, will you, Trace? I'm cream crackered.
All right.
Dorian. What are you doing outdoors tonight?
Well, it's not full moon, is it?
Are you two finished?
No, it's Friday.
I thought you always had the family round on a Friday for chicken and
aggravation. Yes, well, that's why I had to get out of the house.
Marcus invited his cousin Irving over. God, what a fascist.
Why? Because he didn't put it to the vote before he invited him.
No, not Marcus.
Irving. You see, I happen to mention that my next -door neighbour's husbands
were both in jail.
Just making small talk, was I?
So, naturally, we got on to penal policy in general. Now, I contended that
prison used humanely could offer education, counselling, a chance to take
What, like shoplifters?
But Irving said that all prisoners should be castrated because they were
subhuman dross.
Where did he make Mark Chris?
Well, Mark Darrell's not subhuman, Joss. He just made him a spike.
Yeah, he got caught.
Mind you, he might as well have been castrated.
Well,
this is supposed to be a civilised country.
They don't give a monkey's about as wives.
In Sweden, in Mexico, even in the Turks and the Caicos Islands you get your
conjugal rights.
You're allowed to visit your husband in his cell and, you know, do the business,
keep your marriage alive.
How fantastic.
Oh, Dawn, you old perv.
No, no.
I have been looking around for a subject to do for my open university project. I
was going to do guilt and the Jewish mother.
Now you can do guilt and the Greek bank robber.
No, no. Tracy has exposed a far more exciting area.
Do yourself up, Trace.
Long -term imprisonment and sexual deprivation.
Yes, that's really gritty and low -life.
Oh, my, Chris is a low -life grit.
You could talk to him about it.
What's she going to do, ring him on his mobile phone?
She can have my riveting order.
Don't be so stupid, Sharon.
I'm not being stupid.
Nobody knows us down in Albany, Nick. I thought your husbands were in Leedston.
Well, they are normally, but they're entitled to a fortnight's holiday.
So I went down to the travel agents, booked up the Isle of Wight.
They did want to go to America, but Alcatraz was chock -a -block.
Isn't Albany prison for desperate criminals?
Yes, but they've just been sent there short -term while their wing -at -maze
phone's being refurbished.
They're going to accentuate in and on sweet toilets.
They won't be so desperate once they've got their own cars, you know.
How riveting. I can hardly wait for the feature in country homes and interiors.
The point is, if Doreen wants to visit Cyprus' least valuable export, she can
get in as easy as saying, Mrs. Christaki, Achilles Theodopolopidas.
I mean, with her Mediterranean looks, she could pass for a bubble easy.
Bubble? And if you come on the coach with her, she could interview the other
prisoners' wives about their sexual deprivation.
Sharon? Sharon, how can I ever repay you?
I was hoping you'd ask that.
You can pay for our coach tickets.
This coach trip is turning out to be a psychosocial goldmine.
People are so open and honest.
Well, the fibres you're doling out probably help a bit, dog.
I never knew people could be this poor. I feel so guilty.
These women probably spend less on clothes than I do on a luxury, like
Don't feel too bad, doll. For you, makeup ain't a luxury.
Sharon, just let this clean.
Honestly, how can you even dare to put that in your mouth?
She is going to be so sick.
Oh, no.
Oh, just let me die.
Oh, I'm not being soft.
Perhaps you should have got a seasickness from the ferry.
No, when we were on that cruise, I never even had a twinge.
Oh! You'll feel better once you see your Daryl and have a nice cup of prison
tea. Oh, I can't, Shell.
Just take me to an undertaker's. Oh, she won't give a visit. She was only dying
a bit.
Oi, mate!
Where's the nearest casualty department?
St Mary's.
It's just up the road.
You can walk it from here.
I can't. Be sure you come.
Come on.
There you are.
Shall I come with?
No, you'd better go and visit Chris.
If you're sure, Tracy.
Sharon, how will I recognise Chris?
Easy. He's the swoonzy con whose tongue will start hanging out the moment he
clocks you.
The nicest thing you've ever said to me.
Boy, I hope that didn't go all over my upholstery.
No, you didn't, Muck.
It went all over me.
Oi, Lady Muck, there's a queue here.
Oh, it's all right, I've got an invitation.
Are you Chris Theodopolopoulos?
Depends.
Who wants to know? I'm Dorian, Sharon's neighbour.
Um, could you get us two cups of tea, please?
Please.
Hey,
a couple of Kit Kats and all.
What the hell are you doing here? Something happened to Sharon? No, no,
fine. She just didn't want to visit you. Ah, that's typical.
Just been transferred.
Don't know no one apart from Daryl, and she can't even be bothered to shift her
fat arse across her soul. No, no, she did shift her fat... She is on her own,
right. I think she just came to the candy floss and the donkey ride.
She's all right, bitch.
She was like that all the time we was together, mind. So I don't know why it
still gets to me, but it does.
I just can't help it. I'm so sorry if I've upset you. Is there any way I can
cheer you up?
Yeah.
They don't allow conjugal visits in here, though.
Especially with someone else's wife.
Sorry. Well, I didn't mean to be crude.
It's just the way prison gets to you.
I suppose it's an aspect of sexual deprivation.
What?
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, yeah.
Then everything in stir is an aspect of...
Sexual deprivation?
What's it to you, if you don't mind me asking? I'm writing a book called Long
-Term Imprisonment and Sexual Deprivation. Oh, yeah?
Can I have any good pictures in it?
Would you mind very much leaning forward a little? I've got a microphone
secreted in here.
Now, go on.
You were saying it was all an aspect of sexual deprivation.
They run out of Kit Kats, so I got you a flaky stick.
That's so thoughtful of you. Keep the change.
You don't have a tissue, do you?
Funny enough, I was going to ask you the same question.
Well, I think what she has is a dose of food poisoning.
I told you you should have had the chilli, Doug.
Fortunately, her digestive system managed to get rid of the offending
Very fortunate, eh, Chice?
Plenty of fluids, no food for 24 hours and a day's bed rest, and you'll be as
right as rain.
Where am I going to get bed rest?
I'm 100 miles from home.
Look, I'll see if I can get somebody to ring round and find you a bed and
breakfast for the night, but it won't be easy.
You know, it's Cow's Week.
What's that? The agricultural show.
It's our big yachting regatta.
And they take their cows on the boats with them, do they?
I'll speak to my receptionist.
Come on, mate.
And the crazy thing about it is, all them crimes I did for Sharon.
I thought...
If I made a better life for us, then our marriage, well, you know... Well,
Sharon claims you started seeing other women before the honeymoon was over.
What?
Do I look like the sort of bloke who'd spit on the sanctity of marriage?
I mean, our people, the Greek community.
We value tradition.
No, no, no. It was only much later, when our son Sharon was putting it around,
that I was forced to seek solace, you know.
In the arms of another woman.
Well, women.
But of course, sex isn't everything.
Isn't it?
No, of course it isn't.
I mean, when do you give your missus a good seeing to?
How long does it last? A couple of hours?
But that ain't the basis for a long -lasting marriage, is it?
It's a start.
But it's not just sex, is it? I mean, it's what's in here. You know, your
heart, your guts.
But Sharon don't understand.
I do.
I know exactly what you mean.
All right, I muck around, tell a few jokes.
I'm like a big kid sometimes, like Gazza, without that streak of self
-destructive violence.
But inside, I'm sad.
And Sharon never saw it.
I've been doing these creative writing classes in here, you know, to get it all
out of my system. That's wonderful.
I've even tried my hand at some poetry.
I wrote this poem for Sharon to express my innermost feelings, to say all the
things that are so hard to say, you know, in ordinary conversation.
Hey, do you want to hear it?
Please.
Promise you won't laugh?
Sometimes I wake up in tears, knowing I'll be in here for years, while you,
once was my young bride, have to suffer on the outside.
Do you know how much I love you?
Do you know how much I care?
Promise me when I get out, I will find you waiting there with a nice plate of
paramosalata.
Well, what do you think?
Um, I think it's very touching in its simplicity, Christopher.
I'm not sure about the taramasalata line, though.
What, you reckon it would be better with stuffed vine leaves?
Come on, visiting's over.
Time's up.
Well,
it's been a very nice meeting, yeah.
Well, who knows, we may meet again.
Pardon? I may need to do more research.
Blimey.
Well, go on, then.
Give him a kiss, then you can go on.
Good job you didn't want to ruin me for
saving your life.
Feeling any better?
A bit.
I hope Daryl's all right.
Of course he's all right.
They wouldn't dare feed prisoners the sort of crap you can get in motorway
You know, I phoned the prison to tell them you're a bit Moby Dick and to tell
Dorian where we are.
Thanks, Cheryl.
It's all right.
It's only a local call.
I mean, thanks for not reminding me how I went on at you for eating that chilli
dog. Well, I thought you'd feel more guilty if I didn't bring it up. If you
pardon the expression.
This is the Majestic Hotel.
What's majestic about it?
There's a damp patch on that wall that looks just like King Juan Carlos of
Spain.
This hotel is a microcosm of all that is wrong with this godforsaken country as
we limp towards the 21st century.
Well, it's cows week, isn't it? It's the only place that's got a vacancy. I
wonder why.
Did Mr and Mrs Bedbug have to cancel?
Reminds me, I could murder a toasted mutton sandwich.
Yes,
I'm feeling much better, Dorian. Thank you for asking. I'm so sorry, Tracy.
Well, what was it? My lunch.
The quiche of death.
Well, you can't possibly sleep in here.
Heaven only knows what else you'll pick up.
No, Tracy will be all right.
She loves her Daryl too much to pick up anything.
All I need is a peaceful night's cute.
Well, I am not sleeping in here.
You don't have to.
You can go down the front and chat up a big bloke with a nice big yacht.
That's what you do, is it, Sharon?
If I wasn't tending to my poor sister, yeah.
No wonder you couldn't hang on to your husband.
Hang on to what?
Hearing about?
What's that lying merchant been feeding you? I know that he has a poet's heart.
A tortured soul.
The eyes of an artist.
Are you sure you stopped at the right table?
Hey, Trace, tell her what a scumbag he was to me. Look, leave me out of this,
I'm ill.
Yes, now you know how I feel whenever I have to look at his ugly bulk.
Well, don't worry, Sharon. You won't have to see him again.
Good.
Why not?
Because he's got me now, hasn't he?
What do you mean he's got you now?
You should be pleased. You weren't exactly the best wife a man could have.
And he tried a few.
You refused to live with him in his parents' house.
You forced him to lose face and live in a council flat. A problem block.
It weren't a problem block until he moved in.
You constantly tried to undermine his manhood by comparing him to Daryl.
I've never even seen Daryl.
You always... Try to laugh off the difficult things, don't you, Sharon?
when Chris wanted to save your marriage, you had to turn it into a joke.
Our marriage was a joke.
There you go again.
But it doesn't matter now. All right, so you were a dismal failure as a wife. It
happens.
You what?
You cow!
I tried for years to make my marriage work.
I supported him.
I turned two blind eyes while he was knobbing and rubbing his way through the
tenants' association.
He'd fallen out of love with me long before I'd given him up as a bad job.
And now he's trying to use you the way he used me.
Meaning?
He's not stupid, Dor.
When you tottered into that visiting room and your hundred quid stilettos, he
thought, Oi, oi, look at that Tom on that Richard.
Tom?
Richard?
Tom.
Tomfoolery. Jewellery.
Richard, Richard III, Bird, it's obvious.
Oh, I wish I'd done A -level vulgarity like you, Sharon.
What I'm saying is, when Chris clocked you jangling more jewellery than Ron
Atkinson, he thought, I'll give her the old tortured Marta Moody. Then she'll be
good for a few perks.
It'll start with the long, lingering looks with those hurt brown eyes of his.
And it'll end up with you smuggling in the old Colombian marching powder.
I know him, Dore.
Stands on me.
I'd love to, Sharon.
But if your analysis is correct, then why has he started dedicating poetry to
you? Him?
He wouldn't know poetry if it punched him in the kidneys.
Yes, well, that's where you're wrong.
He's attending creative writing classes.
This is it, in his own handwriting.
He wrote this? That's right, Sharon. You see...
He is still in love with you, the poor fool.
Sometimes I wake up in tears, knowing I'll be in here for years.
Don't believe it.
Sharon?
Sorry, Tracy, I'll wake you up.
What time is it?
Half eleven.
I went to the pictures.
What did you see?
Silence of the lambs.
I thought he might cheer me up, you know.
It's Dorian, though, yeah?
No. I don't know where she flounced off to and I don't give a toss.
Do you know what she said about Chris?
No, I want to go back to sleep.
She reckons he reckons that our marriage failed because of me.
I mean, I've done my best, didn't I?
You do say so, Cheryl.
So me and Daryl always used to say it takes two to turn a flat into a pigsty.
What do you know?
You never used to come to our flat.
I didn't fancy having the injections.
Oh, I see.
So you're taking Chris's side now, are you? No, all I'm saying is you could
made a bit more of an effort. I mean, look at you.
What's wrong with me?
Well, nothing now.
You look good.
But when you was with Chris, I mean, you did let yourself go a bit, didn't you?
I mean, you spent so long in that horrible old pink velour tracksuit,
I thought you had a nasty skin condition.
Good night.
Good night.
But what about all that lovey -dovey poetry?
I mean, what if he really does want to make something of our marriage?
What, a game show?
That Dorian's all right.
Do you reckon she went back to London?
Probably.
Unless God answered my prayers as she's been carried out to sea by a freak tidal
wave.
I can't wait to see Daryl. I can't wait to see Chris.
Aye?
I've got to have it out with him, Trace.
I've got to find out if he was telling Dorian the truth about how he feels.
Good morning, Tracey.
Glad to see you're feeling better.
Where did you get to last night?
I booked into the best hotel on the island.
A platinum card opens every door.
What, you turned ass -breaker?
I thought everyone was booked up for Cairns Week.
Must be why they made an exception for Dorian.
Sniping at me won't save your marriage, dear.
I hope this coffee isn't instant.
Instant? I just took 15 minutes to get here.
Is that no glass, Dorian?
Hardly.
Where would I find a Versace silk shirt on this quaint, old -fashioned island?
No, I always carry a crease -resistant item or two in my handbag in case I have
to unexpectedly stay overnight.
But, of course, now I've discovered Christopher.
Oh?
Oi, hold up. Hold up. He's still my husband.
If he sincerely wants to make things work, if he really has developed this
side to his nature, well, maybe I should give him another chance. Just a moment.
It was to me that he revealed his sensitive secret side, not you.
I'm the one that can nurture his potential, buy him books, writing
find him a literary agent.
You two have gone raving mad.
Well, I'm going to visit him today.
Then we'll see.
How are you going to do that?
Dorian used your visiting order yesterday.
I've got half a dozen unused ones from Maidstone in me bag.
I'll bluff my way in.
Easy peasy.
Thank you.
Thanks.
All right.
See, you've got the wrong Nick, darling.
She's Albany, not Maidstone.
Maidstone's about 80 miles in that direction.
Ah, I must have got me visiting orders mixed up.
He got transferred from Maidstone last week.
You know, while they were putting on sweet bathrooms in their cells.
Please.
Well, I suppose... Hang about.
It says here, Mrs.
Theo Topolopoulos.
Yes?
Well, she was here yesterday.
Can't be.
Yes, she was.
A dark -haired tart with a leopard -skin coat, loads of make -up and jewellery.
That was his mum.
The way he was kissing her yesterday, he should be doing time for incest.
I don't know what your game is, darling, but you should sling your hook. Or I'll
call the local fuzz.
and you'll be received in prison visits.
Right, next.
Thank you.
So you mean to say you've been coming here for the past 22 years? Why?
I was doing manual labour on the island for 18 years, and I got to like the
place.
18 years?
What makes you spend 18 years working on the Isle of Wight?
The judge at my murder trial.
Well? Yeah, he's really settled in well. He's got his own cell with Steve, you.
The food's a million times better than Maidstone.
And the screws are all right and all. I ain't talking about Daryl. What about
Christopher? Has he spoken to him? What does Daryl say about him?
Has he told Daryl about me?
Daryl said all Chris can talk about was how fantastic Dorian was.
And that he's finally realised there's no chance of you two ever getting back
together again. And he wants Dorian to start visiting regular.
And maybe a real relationship will develop based on deep mutual respect.
Christopher said that?
Blimey. He must have been going to writing classes.
How could you have doubted him?
Yeah, Daryl and Chris have been going together.
Daryl said Chris is really fantastic.
I'm so pleased.
You see, I'm not doing a psychology course for nothing, Sharon.
I have innate sensitivity.
And in what way exactly has Christopher been fantastic, Trace?
Well, Daryl wrote me this little poem, but he was too embarrassed to tell me.
He was going to keep it secret, but Chris got him to say it over and over
until he learned it by heart sort of thing.
Oh, bless him.
And did Daryl tell you his little poem?
He wrote it down for me.
Let's hear it then, eh, Chase?
Oh, why?
It's personal. That's right, Sharon.
How can you expect Tracy to share such an intimate message with us? Daryl
it with Chris, didn't he?
I mean... Chris helped Daryl learn it by heart.
In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Chris hadn't learned it by heart and
Oh, all right, I'll read it.
Sometimes I wake up in tears, knowing I'll be in here for years.
While you, who once was my young guide, had to suffer on the outside.
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