All language subtitles for A.Very.English.Scandal.S01E02.Episode.2.en

Norman.

I've got nowhere to stay.

You took him to your mother's house?

I thought it would be fun.

Mother's room.

I've come to tell you about

my homosexual relations
with Jeremy Thorpe.

Jeremy Thorpe is elected
leader of the Liberal Party.

What started as a dalliance has turned

into something quite wonderful.

He was my employer and my lover.

He will destroy me

and the party and my marriage.

Norman Scott has got to die, so, how?

I regard it as immoral.

This country is continuing

to supply arms to Nigeria while no food

has been able to reach these
people since the 10th of June.

And who takes advantage
of the situation?

Soviet Russia.

The Russians have been growing
in strength within Nigeria

with every passing day and
the world should see this.

The world should know!

Of course, the real question is
where to dispose of the body.

In New York, they drop
corpses in the river.

I've read that you can
seal a body in concrete

at the base of a motorway.

Tin mines. That's the solution.

David, ready for you now.

Uh, Pedro Besselli, David Holmes.

David's in finance. He was
deputy treasurer of the party.

He got us those carpets for
Liberal headquarters half-price.

Magic Carpet Company, that's me!

We were at Oxford and
we holiday together.

We've had some bloody times, him and me.

That beach in Greece.

- That waiter.
- Anyway, you two must have business.

- I'll leave you alone.
- No, no, no, same business.

Come in, lock the door.

So, I was saying, Norman Scott,

tin mines.

Hundreds of abandoned tin
mines all over Cornwall.

Brilliant. You drop the body down
there, he'll never be found.

Take him to the pub, get him
drunk, shove him in a car,

drive him out to Bodmin Moor, kill him.

That's my constituency.

Kill him how?

Oh, come on, it's quite easy
to break someone's neck.

Come here, Pedro. Elbow
there, jerk up...

He might wriggle out of it.

Men like him tend to be wrigglers.

Then you'll just have
to shoot him, David.

- Can you get a gun?
- I can do whatever you want, Jeremy.

He can, "Do whatever I want, Jeremy."

Well, shoot the bugger stone dead.

Sync and corrections by btsix
www.addic7ed.com

Message for you.

Norman Scott.

Oh.

- [KNOCKING]
- Yah?

It's over. It's done.

It's finished. You don't need to
worry about Norman Scott ever again.

Why, is he dead?

It's better than that.

[CLINKING, APPLAUSE]

Thank you, everyone.
Thank you very much.

As, um, father of the bride,

it is my duty to toast the happy couple,

Mr and Mrs Scott.

Mr and Mrs Scott.

This is the second time
this task has befallen me.

You will recall our first-born
daughter, Belinda, was lucky enough

to marry that fine actor and
gentleman Terry Thomas.

Those magnificent men...

In their flying machines.

They can't be here today.

Terry has to attend the premiere
of Monte Carlo Or Bust!

Or perhaps they've chosen to stay away

while my second daughter, Susan,
marries this dreadful homosexual.

That's where my wife is,

sitting at home weeping in fury
with her child two months pregnant

by this flagrant poofter.

Quite how he got her
pregnant, I don't know.

She must have been caught downwind.

So, all I have to say in tribute
to this desolate affair is...

...leave him, my darling!

Come home! Come home!

OTHERS: Come home.

Look at me. Look at Daddy.

Look at me, look at
Daddy. Look at my face.

Why don't you look at me?

- [CAR APPROACHING]
- Here, now, look. Here she comes.

A taxi, that's nice. How
much did that cost?

Every last penny.

- Did you buy any food?
- You're the provider.

But did you spend all our money?

Get some more. You married me.

You promised to look after me.

Look, I'm amazed.

You'd think it was Carnaby Street.

Out here in the sticks.

Isn't it beautiful?

And books. Daddy says a house
can't have enough books.

And, look, Lynette told me that
peacock feathers are lucky.

Look, do you see? They look like eyes.

The thing is, Sue, we're starving.

There is nothing in the
kitchen and, technically,

I think peacock feathers are
unlucky, according to superstition.

But nothing. Not even a slice of bread.

Whose fault is that?

Oh, no, no, no. No, no. Don't
tell me, no, it's him, isn't it?

It's his fault again.

It is. If Jeremy Thorpe did his duty

and got my National Insurance card,

- I wouldn't be in this terrible...
- He got married, you got married.

He had a baby, you had a baby.

Is any of this about me, Norman?

I mean, why am I even here?

I love you.

Do you know what you sound
like when you say that?

You sound queer.

[BABY CRIES]

Just give him to me.

Ooh, Benjamino.

He's so hungry.

Go and get some food.

We don't have any money.

Just get my child some food.

[CAR HORN]

Sue?

What are you doing? Sue?
What are you doing?

Please, listen to me. No, no, no. Sue.

Please. No, no, no. I'm sorry, I...

[KNOCKING]

Yah?

Splendid Mike, how can I help?

I'm sorry, the police are
here. They'd like a word.

What is it?

What's happened?

RADIO: Witnesses say the car was
driving along the A303 in Hampshire

when the collision occurred.

Caroline Thorpe was travelling alone

and the other driver only
sustained minor injuries.

The Prime Minister has
expressed his condolences.

Mrs Thorpe was 32 years old.

She married Jeremy Thorpe
in the spring of 1968,

and they had one son, Rupert.

Where's Rupert?

Hey.

Sir.

Where's my Rupert, then?

- [RUPERT BABBLES]
- There we are.

[HE CRIES]

We may never know

whether she...

...looked down or...

fell asleep at the wheel
just for a second,

but she swerved into the opposite lane.

A 13-tonne lorry.

She flipped over, landed on the
roof, skidded along, stopped.

Was still alive.

Um...

Spoke to the police while
they were cutting her out.

I'm told she apologised

for the inconvenience.

Uh...

Dead by the time she got to
hospital, ruptured spleen.

Everyone at headquarters
sends their condolences.

Thank you.

Of course, if there's one miracle,
it's that Rupert wasn't with her.

- Thank God.
- Yah, it's all about him now.

My mother says he won't remember her...

...but I...

...I say he will.

Obviously, if there's anything we
can do to help with arrangements

for the funeral or talking
to your constituents...

We thought some sort of
memorial might be a good idea.

Thank you, Mike.

And there's the question
of your returning to work.

Well, it's a bit soon for that.

I didn't mean to cause offence,
Mike, I'm just being practical.

And I'm sure you
appreciate that, Jeremy.

The affairs of state are relentless

so if you need me to step in,

then you only have to say.

Emlyn bloody Hooson.

Wants my job. Always did.

I thought I'd have you at my side,
Besselli, to fight the good fight,

but now you're giving me more burden.

I've got no choice, I'm not
just leaving Parliament.

I think I might have to get out
of the country while I still can.

Just between the two of us,
I'm planning to vanish.

That last venture turned
into a bit of a nightmare,

the one with the eggs.

- What happened?
- The egg man dropped down dead,

leaving me half a million in debt,

and since you're not allowed to be an MP

and a bankrupt, off I pop.

I swear, a man is not allowed
to lose his money these days

without everybody making a fuss.

And what's the next adventure?

America. A man can start again there.

And escape a furious wife.

How is the new girl? Is she any good?

She's the love of my life.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

I shall miss you, Besselli.

And your nonsense.

I don't suppose you'll be back.

I doubt it. I have left a
bit too much damage behind.

Well, who knows where time
and tide will take us.

I'll see you again, old friend.

I hope so, and I really am sorry.

She was a wonderful girl.

Of course, we still have
that unfinished business.

- The Scottish matter.
- Really, though, do you think?

You told me he was divorced.

Yes, but I sent him some
money and that was that.

I can promise he's gone. He's not
going to bother you anymore.

Just let me give you one last
piece of advice, old man.

Leave Norman Scott alone.

She had terrible nightmares.

Who did? Caroline?

She'd wake up screaming.

Every single night.

In the end, she was too
scared to go to sleep.

Started about a year into the marriage,

about the time that she spoke
to the madman on the phone.

Yes, but you can't think
that's his fault.

I wish you a safe journey, Peter,
and I wish you a happy life.

And then I wish Norman
Scott to be killed.

If this is going to be a regular thing,

I'll have to buy myself a Thermos.

I'm sorry, who are you?

Gwen Parry Jones.

From the village. I used to be
the sub post-mistress but now...

- now I'm free as a bird.
- Right, well, what do you want?

This is for you.

Come on, take it.

And if you want sugar, I
brought a little pouch.

Talk of the village, you are.

Arriving like a visitation.

I'm sure you understand this
isn't my chosen habitation.

I'm owed some money by...

Well, let's say by an
influential gentleman.

Well, we've all been talking.

John Jones said..

"He must be a hermit."

Buddug said, "I bet he's an
artist, like Toulouse-Lautrec,"

because you were wearing a
scarf when you arrived.

Mind you, some of the boys have
been saying awful things about you,

and I told them, I said,

"Any more of that and I'll
be getting the carbolic."

Dirty bloody mochyns.

People seem to hound me.

Wherever I go.

I think I've been cursed.

Well, if you get any trouble,
you put them on to me.

My husband was in the Welsh Guards.

He taught me how to box.

"Gwen," he said, "Gwen, everyone
should know how to box.

There could be a war any minute."

- Dead, now.
- Your husband?

Only two months ago.
He fell like a tree.

- Oh, I'm so sorry.
- It's been hard.

- I bet.
- I loved him.

- I'm sure.
- The nights are very long.

- Mm.
- Norman.

Norman.

The nights...

...are very...

...very long.

[MOANING, LAUGHING]

- Oh, my God!
- [GWEN LAUGHS]

Norman! Norman!

[GROANING AND SHRIEKING]

[DOG WHINES]

[MAN WOLF WHISTLES]

- Ey-ey! What have you been up to?
- Hey!

[MEN MAKE INDISTINCT COMMENTS]

[WOLF WHISTLE]

Ohhh!

I walked out and that was it.

I never saw him again.

I completely understand if you
don't want to see me again.

- Why would I do that?
- Because of the men.

Don't be silly. My
husband was in the army.

But Jeremy Thorpe, for God's sake!

He's the leader of the party!

Norman, you've struck lucky.

Yes, because this friend of mine,

his son is the MP for Montgomeryshire.

He's a Liberal MP, an actual Liberal.

- I'm going to tell him.
- Yes, do.

Good. And mention the
National Insurance card.

Yes, I will. I will.

He's a smashing chap.

His name is Mr Emlyn...

...Hooson.

Mrs Parry Jones, of course.

Thank you for coming all this way.

Nice to see you again, Mr Hooson.

This is Mr Scott.

Thank you so much for seeing me,
and, may I say, it's about time.

If you'd like to follow me.

Come this way.

Can I ask, is Mr Thorpe here today?

He's away in Zambia. He
won't be back until Monday.

Can I introduce you to my
colleague, David Steel,

MP for Roxburgh, Selkirk and Peebles.

He has very kindly lent us his
office and would like to attend.

Jeremy used to talk about you.

Did he? All good, I hope.

He called you the baby of the House.

I'm sure he meant it
in a jovial fashion.

Not particularly.

And in the end, I never did get
my National Insurance card.

But Gwen says I'm an
honorary Welshman now.

She's been wonderful. She's given
me £500 for a pony trekking centre.

But if all of this is true,

the story is quite alarming, Mr Scott.

Yes, and you've certainly been detailed.

- Thank you.
- And clearly you have a gift

for eliciting money out of people.

But tell me,

when Mr Thorpe gave you money,

were you blackmailing him?

What sort of blackmailer
goes to the police first?

I think perhaps we've
heard enough for one day.

These are very serious allegations...

I love him, though.

- I beg your pardon?
- I love him.

- Jeremy.
- We can stop now.

No, because every time
I tell this story,

it's always about the card
and the sex and the letters,

but I loved him and I still love him,

even though that's ridiculous.

And he loved me. So you
can write down this...

I wasn't his prostitute

or a one-night stand

or a quick little fuck in the dark.

I was Jeremy Thorpe's lover.

[STIFLED SOBBING]

I had no idea how much he meant to you.

- Welcome back.
- Thank you.

It was an excellent trip.

I wondered if I might have a word.

- No, I'm very...
- It's about Norman Scott.

Who?

Although I did know a Norman Josiffe,

I think he also called
himself Norman Lynch,

so it's not impossible that he
changed his name for a third time,

but I hardly knew him well.

And yet...

...he can describe your mother's house

and your flat at Marsham Court

in great detail.

He did visit me, yes.

What for?

I was helping him.

He had problems at work,
I gave advice, I think.

Is that all?

That was all.

Well, in that case, you won't
mind if I take this further,

to the party...

and the police.

Because, if he's lying, then it's
very important that none of us

are fouled with the
stench of this filth.

- I think that would be a mistake.
- Why's that?

Because you stood for
election as leader in '67

and I won, so this would look
like nothing but revenge.

We could let the inquiry decide.

Then I shall remind them
that you're the man

who stood up in court
and defended Ian Brady.

That was my duty to the Crown.

So you sided with the very
worst of sexual deviants.

What happened, Emlyn? Did
you get a taste for it?

- I shall be taking this forward.
- Yeah, you do that.

Home Secretary, Mr Thorpe for you.

- Jeremy.
- Reggie, this is very good of you.

Thank you very much.

Gin and sweet vermouths for both of us.

- Keep them coming.
- Yes, Mr Maudling.

There's only one reason anyone
asks to see me, hugger-mugger.

Have you been an idiot?

No. So, you see, it's
really the same old tale.

In fact, the first lesson of politics,

beware one's own colleagues.

So, what would you like me to do?

Well, Hooson won't give up.

He's a grammar school boy, I think
he likes scrapping in the yard.

And, apparently, this
Scott made a statement

to the police back in '62.

It's a pack of lies but its sheer
existence could be misread.

Would that be so bad?

We can all bear a little scandal.

My own mother disowned me

when I married an
actress, and I survived.

- How is Beryl?
- Still dancing.

See, I think it's different when
the lies are homosexual in nature,

because I think stories like that

reflect badly on the
whole of Parliament.

I just thought that perhaps you
could suggest to the police

that they busy themselves
with more important things.

Is it true? What Scott says?

No.

Consider it done.

- Thank you.
- Consider it done, and no more.

We've hit a problem,

the commission of the
Metropolitan Police

can't find any substance

to Mr Scott's allegations.

You're very kind, Emlyn...

...but it doesn't
really matter any more.

I just thought that if Mr
Scott had any evidence...

Um, can I speak to him?

I've been very silly.

I do these things.

Have these little passions and
they sweep in and they sweep out.

Sorry, I don't think I understand.

They laughed at me.

They all laughed at me.

The widow woman falling for a boy

who was already in love
with someone else.

Stupid.

Sorry, I really don't understand.

Look, the matter is closed, Mr Hooson.

You go back to your
world and I'll, uh...

I'll just stay in mine

because I'm going to be
perfectly, perfectly fine.

Are you all right?

[CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY]

I tried ringing but she won't answer.

Gwen. Hello there.

Gwen, are you in? Bloody hell, it's hot.

Gwen.

Hard to identify.

They think the body's
been there for weeks

with the heating on full blast.

I was away. I was in London.

We'll have to wait for
the inquest, but...

there were some pills and
some alcohol by the bed.

I'm so sorry.

It's a terrible set of circumstances

but, given the poor lady's passing,

I think we have to consider
the matter closed.

- Gracious of you.
- Thank you.

Did you give Mr Scott your sympathies?

I passed on my condolences, yes.

No doubt you used the same tone
of voice as when you offered me

sympathy for my dead wife.

Thank you, Emlyn. You are dismissed.

David, come, we have work to do.

Jeremy says kill him in America.

So I thought Florida.

You see, this one is
called Big Cypress Swamp.

So we lure him there, shoot him dead,

chuck him in the swamp, plop,

he sinks to the bottom, gone.

Or he gets eaten by alligators.

- Even better.
- And you would do the actual shooting?

- I suppose so.
- Shoot him how?

Through the head.

David, you don't really
want to do this, do you?

Oh, my God, no.

- I'm so glad.
- Bloody hell, it's insane.

- Bit bonkers, isn't it?
- It's bloody nuts.

Do you think he seriously
means it, though?

Do you think Jeremy
really wants him dead?

Sometimes I do, yes.

So do I. Shit.

And here we are, plotting
with alligators.

It's astonishing, the
hold he has over us.

Strange, isn't it?

Because I've got that bloke
of mine at home, Gerald.

It's magic. But then I go to London

and there's Jeremy and...

- ...I love him.
- Gosh.

Yeah.

It amazes me that we all go to
such lengths to protect him

when he's so bloody overt.

He's perfected the art of
hiding in plain sight.

I think he likes it.

The danger of it. It's a game.

Could you do it, though, David?

Could you kill someone?

Really?

I'd get someone else to do it.

- Would you?
- If I could find people, yeah.

Well, let's make sure that you never do.

We'll pretend to Jeremy.

We'll tell him we set it all up,

the murder, in Florida, and Norman...

and that something went wrong.

We'll say that Norman
just didn't turn up.

That's a bit lame.

Well, at least he'll
think that we tried.

Of course, the good thing is
that Jeremy forgets Norman Scott

every few years.

Let's just keep putting him off
until he forgets for good.

Might work. He's got other
things on his mind these days.

He's getting married again.

- Oh, good God.
- Marian, Countess of Harwood.

How was the wedding?
Congratulations, by the way.

Thank you very much indeed.
We are absolutely delighted.

It was a relatively modest affair.

Paddington registry office.

And then Westminster
Abbey for the blessing.

Followed by luncheon for
family and friends.

I think it was only 40 guests.

We wanted to make it special.

We shared many happy
memories of Rupert's mother.

- It was lovely.
- We did indeed.

Thorpe, John Jeremy.

Liberal Party.

34,052.

I hereby declare that
Jeremy Thorpe is the MP

- for the North Devon constituency.
- Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Thank you. What about the Tories?

They're down, sir.

We've tripled the vote.

London says we could have 14
seats by the end of the night.

It means Heath is going to
need the Liberals, sir.

- He needs you.
- Thank you, Danny.

Thank you, Barnstaple.

RADIO: The hung parliament puts
Thorpe and the Liberal Party

in a remarkably powerful position.

If Thorpe has been invited
to Downing Street,

and there's every
indication this is true,

then, without a doubt, Heath
will offer him a coalition.

Jeremy Thorpe could be elevated to
the Cabinet by the end of today.

- Wow.
- This could be a monumental...

Ask for Home Secretary.

I shall ask for more than that.

Deputy Prime Minister
isn't an official title.

It's only given at the Prime
Minister's discretion.

He could be the Deputy Prime
Minister of the United Kingdom.

The man who wants his secret
homosexual lover murdered.

RADIO: Mr Thorpe left Downing
Street some 20 minutes ago,

but there's been no announcement yet.

No. The terms were not acceptable.

- Good for you.
- But Heath's out, he's resigned.

One down. Queen's asking Wilson
to form a new government.

That can't last more
than a couple of months.

Two down. We can force another election.

Almost there.

Gin.

Thorpe, John Jeremy.

Liberal Party.

28,209.

[APPLAUSE, CHEERING]

Not quite the result we wanted.

London's saying Wilson's done it, sir.

He's in. People are calling
for your resignation.

Danny, it's a game.

It's a very, very long game
and I'm playing it well.

Now go home, get some sleep.

Not scared of hard work, then.

I love it. My first-ever
job was in a stables.

That's why I came here.

More stables per square mile
than anywhere in the country.

It's like I've come home.

Two of the lads are off
training at Lassiter's.

So let's start with a month's
work, see how it goes.

Can I ask, is there accommodation?

There's a room above the stables.

Well, it's not really a room but
if you don't mind roughing it...

I'll do anything. That sounds perfect.

Honestly, perfect.

[SOUND OF RAIN]

[THUNDERCLAP]

[HORSES WHINNY]

Goodbye.

Be good.

[MUSIC: Le Nozze Di Figaro,
Overture by Mozart]

Thank you.

[TELEPHONE RINGS]

[TV ON LOUDLY]

Didsbury 4-6-5-6.

No, you're not bothering me at all.

Is there something wrong?

[TELEPHONE RINGS]

Hello, the Le Mesurier residence.

Bloody hell. The Magic Carpet King.

[TELEPHONE RINGS]

Hello.

Deakin speaking.

[MUSIC: Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round
The Ole Oak Tree by Tony Orlando]

- All right, mate?
- Hello.

Do you know an Andrew Newton?

...right? I said, "Come on,
let's go back to the hotel."

She says, "I want to see the sights."

I said," I want to see the
sights. Get 'em off."

Let me get that.

Keep the change.

Keep the change? You could
get five pints out of that.

Lots more where that came from.

You're Andrew Newton, right?

- The airline pilot.
- Did I have it off with your wife?

Well, I was told

you could help a friend of mine.

Bottom line, Mr Newton,

is the deal could be
worth up to £10,000.

- I'm your man.
- You don't know what it is yet.

No, sorry. I'll do it, though.

[DRUMROLL]

[BAND PLAY "TIGER FEET"]

Right, what am I bid for Bridget?

- [CHEERING]
- Eh?

Now, come on, come on,
it's all for charity.

Six quid for the lovely Bridget.

Get 'em out, sweetheart.

This is all for charity.

- Right...
- Come here, sweetheart.

They look cold, your lovely baps.

Don't you flaming well touch me, mate.

[LAUGHS]

Ohhhhhh...

- [CHEERING]
- No, no, no.

No touching the girls, sir.

Not until they're paid for. Ha!

Hey, that's my girlfriend.

Get your hands off her.

I am hiding the boobs, sunshine.

I'm on boob patrol.

For God's sake, Barry.
I'll do it myself.

[BAND PLAYS "DELILAH"]

Yeah, I've spoken to him.

I think he's just the man we need.

Look, I can guarantee he's
professional, ruthless

and utterly discreet.

I'm glad to help. I love dogs.

You're such a good friend, Norman.

If you could take her
for a walk every day.

I warn you, she's a bit of a handful.

Dogs love me. The bigger, the better.

Her name is Rinka. It's Japanese.

- It means trusting.
- Oh, trusting.

Hello, Rinka. Hello.

You're gorgeous, Rinka.

LAUGHING: Damn it.

They promised me this
was a one-dog town.

Lovely big brutes, aren't they?

We've seen this one out and about.

It's Rinka, isn't it?

That's right. And who is this beauty?

I'm Edna.

You mean the dog.

This is Princess Eleanor.

I'm Mrs Edna Friendship.

What a wonderful name.

Do you want to come in?

Come on, then.

Come on.

There's a good girl. Good girl.

It's a nice little place.

We've got our regulars.

A little stream of traffic
off Eastern Avenue.

- We do all right.
- Is it just you?

No, I've got Barney, the pot man.

As I was saying, he's found
some girl in Lyme Regis, so...

If you fancied doing a few odd jobs,

you know, changing the
barrels, a bit of bar work...

There is a nice little room
upstairs, you can have that.

- I could live here?
- Well, if you want.

Just peppercorn rent.

- I'm sorry.
- Oh.

[NORMAN SOBS]

What's this for, eh?

It's just...

people are so lovely
to me wherever I go,

and I never know why.

[TELEPHONE RINGS]

Magic Carpet Company, Magic Carpet King.

- Can I help you?
- It's me.

I've been looking.

There's no sign of him. Norman
Scott has completely disappeared.

- Do you think he knows?
- Could do.

I've searched the whole of
Dunstable. Not a whisper.

- Dunstable?
- Yeah.

You're in Dunstable?

Yeah.

He's in Barnstaple.

- Eh?
- Norman Scott lives in Barnstaple.

I'll go to Barnstaple.

You better had.

Over and out.

- Excuse me.
- Hello.

Yes, I saw you looking. And it's fine.

No complaints here. I'm Norman.

- Nice jacket.
- My name is Peter King.

I'm meant to tell you, Mr Scott,
you're in very great danger.

There is a man coming
from Canada to kill you.

Canada?

Certain parties have
hired me to protect you.

How do you know who I am?

You need to come with me right
now to meet the person.

- What person?
- The one who hired me.

What do you mean someone
wants to kill me?

Is it him? Oh, my God.

Oh, my God. It's him, isn't it?

- Is it him?
- Really, don't.

If you could come with me right now...

- Is it him?
- I don't know.

There is no him, all right.

But you have got to come with me.

I can't, I've got the
dog. She's not mine.

- This is Princess Eleanor.
- Just get in the fucking car.

Wait there.

EDNA: We look forward
to seeing you, yes.

- Edna. There's a man outside.
- Bye.

Tommy, would you take her
for a moment, please?

This man, he's got a yellow Honda.

Would you write down the number, please?

- What for?
- I can't stop.

Oh, I've got it.

- Who is he?
- He said someone wants to kill me.

Why have you changed your shirt?

He's very good looking.

So, have I got it right?

After all that, you still haven't
got your National Insurance card?

I have not. So, tell me, what do you do?

- Who are you, exactly?
- I'm a special investigator.

- And what does that mean?
- It means...

You know...

What it means. It's best if you
don't ask too many questions.

Right.

All I can say is you
are in mortal danger.

- And now I've got to go.
- What? Why?

I don't like the way that
man's looking at me.

But you can't just walk off,
not after that. What do I do?

I'll contact you as soon as
the man from Canada arrives.

Was he the man you wanted me to meet

or is he the man who's going to kill me?

It's complicated.

I'll be in touch.

EDNA: Norman.

Norman. He says it's important.

- Hurry up.
- Is it him?

I don't know.

I think so.

- Hello.
- Norman.

It's Andy here.

- Who's Andy?
- I mean Peter.

Yes.

He's here. The man from Canada.

He's come to kill you and
he's already in Devon.

Oh, my God. What do I do?

Don't tell anyone. Not a
word. But meet me tonight.

Delves Hotel, Pin Street, five o'clock.

I'll be going home now, Mr Thorpe.

Are you working late?

Needs must. Thank you.

See you tomorrow.

[BIG BEN CHIMES]

[TOWN BELL CHIMES]

- Hello. Sorry I'm late.
- How many Great Danes have you got?

This is Rinka, isn't she beautiful?

My friends can't cope with her,
she's more or less mine now.

- I hate dogs.
- Well, that's a silly thing to say.

It's like a bloody donkey. How's
it going to fit in the car?

I thought we were going to the hotel?

- That's a different car.
- Change of plan.

I need to go to Porlock, see a client.

- OK, I'll wait here.
- You need to come with me.

He could be anywhere,
the man from Canada.

Well, I'm not going without Rinka.

Christ, you make it difficult.

Get in, then. In, in.

Get in the car.

It stinks!

Get out.

Go, go, go.

Take this thing with you and all.

Go inside, wait at the bar.

- I'll come back and get you.
- Where are you going to now?

Business.

Rinka, this way.

It's 10,000 quid. Arghh!

Come on! Come on!

Arghh!

[SCREAMS]

[RUMBLE OF THUNDER]

[RAIN PATTERING]

Come on.

[RINKA BARKS]

How long have you been sitting there?

Why didn't you come and find me?

I can't be seen with anyone.

- Why not?
- Because of my job, obviously.

- Get in.
- Can you take me home?

- Get in!
- I am getting in.

Come on, Rinka. In.

Good girl.

What about the man?

- What man?
- From Canada?

Don't worry, it'll be OK.

I'll look after you.

Honestly.

Everything is going to be...

...fine and dandy.

That's what my mum always says.

Fine and dandy.

- [RINKA WHINES]
- Are they aggressive, Great Danes?

No, soft old things.

Isn't that right, Rinka? You and me.

- Both soft old things.
- But do they attack?

You know, if someone was
to attack you, you know,

- what would it do?
- She might, I suppose.

They used to hunt boars in the old days.

Oh, Jesus.

You all right?

Yeah.

Beautiful part of the world.

Not tonight.

It is, though. Magnificent.

You're a very lucky man.

Someone's trying to murder me.

Yeah, I know, but... I tell you what...

...well done.

- What for?
- I don't know.

Not that bad, though, was it?

You know, the things you've done.

Amazing.

What's wrong?

- Everything.
- Careful.

- [TYRES SCREECH]
- Sorry. Um...

Oh, look, I'm tired.

- Bloody worn out.
- Do you want me to drive?

OK.

Good idea, yeah.

I've never been to Canada.

OK, let's, um, let's pull over here.

Okey-dokey, I'll get
out, you slide over.

No, no, no. I said slide over.
You don't have to get out.

Oh, God. Now she thinks
she's going for a run.

Rinka, darling, we're
all getting soaked.

Oh, who's a silly thing?
Who's a silly thing?

You are. You're the silly thing.

Rinka.

Come on, now. Come on, now.

Come on, girl. Yes, my darling.

Mwah. Mwah.

Oh, my God. It's you.

Your turn.

[GUN CLICKS, HE GASPS]

Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!

Come on, come on, come on!

Fuck! Fuck!

No! Oh, no!

No.

Oh, no.

[SOBS]

MAN: Are you all right?

He shot my dog!

He tried to shoot me!

Who did?

Jeremy Thorpe.

Jeremy Thorpe did this.

It was Jeremy Thorpe!

Sync and corrections by btsix
www.addic7ed.com

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