Original subtitles

Another journey spent with a sour taste of rejection in my mouth.

Why had Nancy's warm, welcoming smile changed in the space of a few hours to

an angry, dismissive glare in the street?

Unless it was the way some women behaved, and I'd just have to get used

to it.

But I couldn't believe Nancy was inherently fickle.

Not Nancy.

She was as genuine as rain.

I wrote to her for an explanation, asking her to reply care of our agent,

Joe Bosenby, in London, our next stop.

First, I signed the letter, Love, Richard.

And I changed it to Yours, Sincerely.

Don't look. You're tearing them now. Give us some back.

Handcuffs.

I'll look for you after the second house. Say goodbye.

I tried to find you too. I went to your digs this afternoon.

Went to my digs?

Please, I do not wish to push into your private life. It's not that.

But in London, forgive me, you do not intend to have a flat with Miss Blaine.

I don't really see what that's got to do with you. It's not a criticism.

It's your life. It's not my business.

I do not ask for those reasons.

Miss Blaine, last time I saw her, I think told me she had a flat lent to her

in Shepherd Market. It's much too expensive for me. Oh, well, you live

somewhere else, then?

I haven't found anywhere yet, but I don't really understand... Look, please,

I have friends at Wallham Green, and they wish to rent their flat while they

are on tour. You know Wallham Green? No. He's near Chelsea, Fulham. He's not

expensive. Many miles from Shepherd Market.

There is their name and address.

They will be there all today. You just tell them that Ricardo sent them.

Thank you.

Please excuse me.

Is it really so obvious?

Please? Me and Julie.

He's like a poster 40 foot high.

I do not judge it. It is not that.

Only Tommy Beamish has friends. Big friends.

And he's a madman.

You know his best friend.

He's a boxer, a heavyweight.

That's who he stays with when he's in London.

This man. This man.

has been many times to prison.

His brain is killed with fright. He has no brain anymore.

Please, you and Miss Blaine, be very, very careful.

London. My part of it was down at heel, but very cheerful.

It tended to break out into stalls and barrows.

Not the slightest excuse.

Nancy?

It wasn't the first time I thought I'd seen Nancy.

It was enough to see someone with the same coloured hair.

I told myself I must stop thinking about Nancy Ellis.

I was getting morbid about her.

Here I was, a healthy young man in London for the first time and with a bob

or two in his pocket.

And all I could do was mope about the past.

To the point where I was actually seeing ghosts in broad daylight.

What a waste of all the dreams I'd ever had as a boy in the Yorkshire Dales.

Dreams of coming to London and taking it by storm.

After all, there was somebody here who wasn't just a figment of my imagination.

Julie Blaine.

And she was here in the flesh.

Flowers! My, we are the young man of our time.

What do you think? Very nice. Nice? It's gorgeous.

I feel very feminine again.

I can't get enough of you, can I?

What's your flat like?

Not like this.

I should think not.

no more rolling around on dirty dressing on the floor.

fireman knocking at the door.

this is our own special little love nest.

about Tommy?

oh he's staying with boozy friends in Brighton. all the time we're in London.

he'll check up on me now and again. you know how jealous he is.

we'll have to be very clever.

I'll leave cryptic little messages for you all over the place.

like spies.

I'd quite like to work out there sometime.

You know, we've been in this flat five min...

Julie?

I'm sorry

Am I still a good lover, Julie?

The very best.

In the whole of London?

In the whole world.

Under my tuition.

I knew I wasn't really the man for Julie, just a young substitute for the

lover who deserted her.

We weren't in love, but we were friends within our mutual sexual obsession.

Richard.

Hm?

Don't suppose you've heard from Nancy, have you?

You're such a dear, sweet boy.

Sorry.

I'm really sorry.

Coast clear all the way to Brighton.

You witch.

You witch.

Goes clear all the way to Barton.

I'm

not

sure which is the best part.

During or after?

You're in for me, definitely.

I can feel relaxed after a square meal.

For an artist, you can be very crass sometimes, Richard.

I suppose I'm just a rough country lad.

Not like one of your refined actor friends.

I promise not to quarrel about my friends.

Are you starting it?

I swear it was a wonderful day.

Lucy, please don't ask me to eat.

I'm not talking about this.

Mercy, Harry, come and have something to eat.

I've got some chicken.

And some salad.

And some melon if you'd like some of that stuff.

You enjoying yourself?

I'm bored.

Well, you just sit there and look slightly jaded and mysterious.

You'll do my reputation no end of good.

Do you know, I nearly said I loved you.

There were times when I felt like a bird in Julie's gilded cage.

A pampered pet she could show off to her posturing friends.

And I didn't much like it.

We must find something new for the act.

I thought it went very well tonight. I didn't. Not like your two-dwarf trick.

We've solved it. I'm working on it.

Of course, we could always include your own personal disappearing act, couldn't

we? I hope.

Here, one minute, gone the next.

Swallowed up by London.

Or Miss Blaine.

You have been neglecting us, you know, Richard.

He'd never admit it.

That he feels it?

Wish I could believe that.

I'm just enjoying myself, that's all.

Nothing deep or emotional.

Well, as long as you're happy.

I am.

Don't be long.

I won't.

What are you doing?

Amputating my right leg below the knee.

Why?

I don't like the look of it.

I love your legs.

I'd like to draw you like that.

Just lie on there.

Beautiful.

Well, we could be doing something else.

I miss the skin.

I cut sometimes in my little flat and I still feel it against my fingers.

Smooth and silky.

This wasn't in the bargain.

Look, I've stopped it. So shut up. Shut up. I'm enjoying myself. It's lovely.

You... I don't like this, Tommy. Let's

get out. Tommy!

Now, I'll tell you what I've been doing this week while you've been bouncing on

your back here.

I've been rehearsing somebody into your part and she opens tomorrow and you're

out. On your bare, bleeding arse, Miss Blaine! Ta-ta!

Look what you've rogered yourself into, Earncastle!

Half a round with an ex-heavyweight!

Turn it up, Tommy! Come on!

Let me sponge your back. No.

Don't.

What can I do? Just get me a drink.

Please don't argue. Just give me another one.

Sorry.

What are you going to do?

Why

did you

let him do that to me?

Can you get to the bed?

He's mad.

I should have known it all along, all those things he made me do.

He enjoyed himself.

He'll end up in a lunatic asylum, you'll see.

How did he know we were here tonight?

Has he been having his watched?

He bloody enjoyed it.

He even said so.

He's thrown me out, hasn't he?

You could never work with him again. No.

Now I'm in London again with no work.

Don't touch me. I don't want to be touched.

I can't get you ashore.

No.

Just go, would you?

Please.

You can lock the door when you go.

Must be safe.

Oh, god.

I had been warned.

Bavara had said I would be broken in pieces.

She wasn't far from the mark.

I felt as if I'd been crushed between two runaway wardrobes.

I spent that night alternately cursing Tommy Beamish and vowing black revenge

and feeling very sorry for myself.

But now and again, I managed to raise a wry smile on my bruised lips.

My mother, I thought, wouldn't have had much sympathy for me.

She would have seen my injuries as the wages of sin.

Divine retribution.

Actually, I half believed it was.

The following night I managed to struggle through the act.

Only just.

I was stiff and my timing was terrible.

I want to talk to you.

In ten minutes, in my dressing room.

I don't know why I'm doing this. This is your job.

Julie, Julie.

I didn't phone this morning cos I hoped you might be asleep.

I'm free to come round now.

What?

Tomorrow, then.

No. Wednesday?

Afternoon, about two o'clock.

Yeah.

Julie, you sure you're all right?

Yes.

I'm very sorry, Uncle. I know it was all my fault.

I promise it won't happen again.

What have you been doing to yourself?

I was in a fight.

I can see that.

Aren't you big enough to take care of yourself?

Not against a heavyweight bruiser.

How the hell did you come to be mixed up with a heavyweight bruiser?

Now listen, lad.

You came down to London with me, so I'm partly responsible.

Just tell me straight what happened.

I was with Julie in her flat.

And Tommy burst in with his heavyweight boxer.

He did this to me.

You should see what he did to Julie.

And when they came in, you two were... Yeah.

Pretty close to it.

Well, I don't care what happens to her.

She asked for it. She must have known what Beamish is like. He's notorious.

But if he thinks he can have a nephew of mine knocked about like that, he's

wrong.

So what can you do?

Where is that damn veterinary surgeon? He should have been here an hour ago.

Damn horse doctors.

I never knew one yet would turn up on time.

Never mind, little Lulu.

Your doctor will be here soon, my dear. Not here, darling.

Not yet, my darling.

How do?

How do we?

You know, I don't think there is a number six Blough and Fontein Avenue.

Number six.

Yes.

Plummer. Monsieur Plummer.

Master Plummer. By appointment to His Majesty King George V, Mr Beamish

Thomas. But you can call me Tommy. I think twice of Plummer.

I will keep your cap on right.

There's a woodpecker flying about.

Oh, I think he's forgotten his dummy.

Not with a big job.

Hello. Hello, mate. How are you?

Jack. I'm still... All right,

mate. Hey,

I've got a choppy apple for you. Just about to fit your mouth, mate.

Oh,

bring a bloody chance in.

Go on, Jack.

Please, get off me!

Listen, I'm telling you!

You! What a rubbish!

What a job!

May I have 549, please?

Mayfair 549.

Who is it?

It's Richard.

Richard Hernecastle. I'd like to speak to Miss Blaine, please.

She's not in. Sorry.

Mayfair 549.

Julie?

I'm sorry, Miss Blaine's not in.

Julie, what's going on? I know it's you.

Richard? Julie, where were you? What's happened?

Richard, dear, I'm so sorry.

I was out seeing agents, and I waited and waited for them, and then they told

me to come back and get lunch, and then I waited again for hours.

I was furious.

Don't forget, darling, you're working and I'm not.

I'm so terribly sorry. Truly, I am. Will you forgive me?

Yes, of course.

Shall we make it same time tomorrow?

No, not tomorrow.

What about Sunday?

Right, Sunday.

Same time.

No, I'm lunching with some people in Richmond.

Let's say four o'clock, shall we?

Then I'm sure to be back and you won't be disappointed.

Bye.

Anticipation.

Caution.

Concern.

I experienced all of them as I approached Julie's flat.

The strongest was probably a sense of caution.

I did not want another beating.

But I'd missed her.

And our lovemaking.

Oh, uh, Miss Blaine's expecting me.

I'm sorry, she's gone away.

Gone?

Where to?

I believe she joined Lewis Atkinson's company.

They went off to Cape Town.

Yesterday, I think.

I'm so sorry.

Oh, it doesn't matter.

Did you know her very well?

Not very well, no.

And that was the last time I ever spoke to Julie Blaine.

And she was pretending to be someone else.

After Julie had vanished, I had a rush of moral rectitude to the head.

I was going to be different.

I was going to be good in future.

And the best way to ensure that was to find my true love.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Good afternoon. I'm trying to find a friend of mine, Miss Nancy Ellis.

Who? Miss Nancy Ellis.

Nancy Ellis?

No, no one of that name here.

She used to be in an act called Susie, Nancy and the Three Gentlemen.

Oh, them.

We no longer book that act.

Well, perhaps you know... I haven't the slightest idea.

Thank you.

Richard!

Oh, it's gone down a lot, hasn't it?

Tough, eh? Oh, yes.

You going for a drink tonight after the show?

Sorry, I've... What's up with him?

I've arranged to be somewhere else.

Oh, where?

A pal.

Oh.

Going to discuss something with Nick, are you?

What? Something about the show?

Something personal.

Oh, secret, is it?

Yeah.

Well, everything's a secret to me these days.

Any time I ever get to see you, Nick's on stage.

Leave that alone.

Yes?

Went to Joe Bosenby's office today.

Looking for another job, are you?

Um, I wanted to know if anyone knew where Nancy was playing.

You certainly don't let the grass grow under your feet. Julie Blaine sells for

South Africa one day. Next minute, you're chasing after Nancy Ellis again.

If that's your attitude.

What are you telling me about Nancy Ellis for, then?

Jo doesn't book for her anymore.

I thought you might know somebody who knows where she is.

I might.

I'll see what I can do.

Thank you.

Oh, by the way, talking about Jo Bosenby, he tells me they've cancelled

all Tommy Beamish's London dates and packed him back up north.

Apparently he got the bird in a couple of other empires as well.

It was you, wasn't it?

You organized it.

Give Tommy the bird.

I told you he wouldn't get away with having a nephew of mine knocked about.

He should have known better.

I got the impression Uncle Nick had revenged himself, not me.

There was no point in asking him if I was right.

I must talk to you, Richard.

Anyhow, this is on my way home.

Come in.

I tried to catch you after the show.

You'd already gone.

Well, I got some cold things while I was out, so I don't know if you're hungry.

I've got some cold ham and pears.

Thanks.

I could do with a bite.

What I'd really like's a drink.

A bloody bottle of beer.

Ah, we'll put some gin in it.

We've got half a bottle here somewhere.

It's what they call a dog's nose.

It's very good.

Nice

flat,

this.

Nothing of the kind.

Can't wait to get out.

It does for now.

What do you think of me, Richard?

I want a straight, honest answer. I don't care, so long as it's the truth.

Look some figure first.

I'm a girl, aren't I? I'm not asking if I'll do for a bank manager.

Well, your face isn't bad.

Your figure's better still.

I don't think you always make the best of yourself.

Not like Miss Julie bloody Blaine, of course. Not in that class at all.

Is that when she asked to take an iron from Tommy Beamish?

Oh, yeah.

Nick still tells me a few things.

So stop now.

She walked out on you, didn't she?

And you can't see why.

She couldn't face you after all, Adam. No bloody fear. Not the grand Miss Julie

Blaine.

If I'd been in and out of bed with her for weeks, I'd not have run away from

you the way she did.

Well, go on now.

I'll tell you how kind and considerate you are.

Careful you are not to say the wrong things.

You don't have to be sarcastic.

I know I'm silly, but you do like me a little bit, don't you?

I'm so miserable, I don't know what to do.

He hardly ever wants me now, we aren't living together, and I thought I

wouldn't mind, because I've been living at home, but there's eight of us in that

bloody little house, and all the time it's like a screaming pigsty, so I'm

sweet, I'm the washer, and all I've got is Nick.

really got him.

And you, of course, Richard, dear.

You know how fond of you I am, don't you?

All right, I'd mess with being if you took that any further, hey?

I know.

I have to have something.

There's a fella who lives two doors from us at home. He works at a grocer's.

He's quite nice looking and dresses smart.

He used to be a gonomy.

Still is, he says.

He's so boring and dreary.

I know everything he's going to say next.

He always gets the same little cough before he speaks. I will scream.

Give us a kiss, Richard.

Richard, dear, listen and tell me the truth.

Has Nick ever spoken to you about engaging another girl to take my place?

He's worried about two dwarfs, not two girls.

Well, you'd tell me if he did say anything, wouldn't you? Oh, please,

Richard, you must.

Here.

I'm not drinking.

I'll do it if you stay put.

You know it's happening soon, don't you?

To start with, we'll probably be having two weeks out at the end of this tour.

I don't care where Nick's going to go this time.

He'll have to take me with him.

You won't, you know.

I know, really.

I was just talking big.

He'll do just what he wants to do, like he always does.

Anyhow, we're going round with the same bill.

I mean, like last time, Annie, not the same turns.

Nick's been working it out with Dale Bowdenby.

I don't know who we've got yet. Some of them might be nice and friendly.

And we'll be together for months.

Mostly in Lancashire at first, a place I love, I don't think.

Could be fun, couldn't it?

Could be.

Oh, you're a big long streak of misery, you are.

I was thinking.

About which one?

Innocent little Nancy or wicked old Julie?

I've got other things to think about, you know, Sissy.

Not at this time of night, you oughtn't to have.

And I'm here, aren't I?

Sissy.

I've got everything they have.

If you don't believe me, I'll show you. Sissy.

Why can't we have some fun for once?

You gave her plenty, didn't you? Making me jealous. Keep still, you silly...

Sissy!

If we started something now, we'd go on with it.

Then sooner or later, Uncle Nick would find out, and then where would we be?

You'd be all right. We'd both be out.

Look, we've got months of work, and I can't see him disturbing the act unless

he thinks you and me are up to something.

Then he'd be ruthless.

It's just his pride, that's all.

One of his belongings being tampered with.

You don't really want me out now.

No, you don't.

I'm just trying to be sensible for both of us.

It's late.

Shall we get you home?

Got your gin?

I'll see you safely onto your boat.

You make it so much worse, don't you see?

You've only been so lovely to me.

Good morning, Mr. Alderton. I'm afraid Mr. Bosby... Mr. Alderton, if you

wouldn't mind waiting, just... You can't just walk in there and... Joe Bosby's

Theatrical Agency.

Well, hello, Nick.

Hello to you, young fellow.

Wonderful timing.

Dead on time, as usual.

You have a cigar?

I reckon old Pitter should have them ready for you by now to look over, but

just make sure.

And I'll tell you frankly, Nick... There isn't another agency in London that

found so many of them for you.

And I'll also admit while I'm at it that I couldn't have done it myself.

It's old Pitta.

That's no news, Joe. I know all about old Pitta. What are you paying him now?

30 bob a week?

No, certainly not, Nick.

Two quid.

I hope you can afford it. I don't like to think of you throwing your money

around.

Oh, good. Very good.

Very good.

Put a tune to it and we'll have it top of the bill before Christmas.

Talking of which...

The new tour.

The ragtime three are fixed.

They're happy with the middle of the bill, even though they're a big draw.

But about Lily Farris, Nick, old boy, she has to go on top.

They go off their heads about her in Lancashire.

Not that she's insisted. It's that manager of hers, that pianist chap,

Mergan. He looks soft, but he's hard as bloody nails.

So am I, Joe.

I know, Nick. I know.

Harder.

But you're getting the same money as she is. So why should you bother?

Why not let the little lady have it, eh, Nick, old boy?

I mean, what have you got against it?

Ah, there you are, Pitter.

All ready for Mr Arlington along there?

Quite ready, Mr Bursonby.

You been keeping them in order, Mr Pitter? Well, I've done my best, sir.

But I'm sure you realize what many of them are like when they find so many

others are there.

They're not easy to deal with, sir.

May I ask how you've been keeping?

Can't grumble, Mr. Pitter. This is my nephew, Richard Hernecastle. A very

great pleasure, Mr.

Hernecastle. I often had the privilege... All right, Pitter.

Let's get on with it.

Our time is valuable, even though yours may not be. Yes, quite so. I'm very

sorry, sir.

This way, gentlemen, please. No, I'm not coming. You go ahead, Nick, old boy.

Pick who you like and give me the bloody creeps.

Yes?

Yes.

Yes.

And it must be extremely irritating.

Well, it is, but... This way, sir.

So you've got about 20 more.

Sit down. Sit down. Sit down.

Sit down.

Back into your chairs. Come along. Sit down.

It was like I was in some weird dream.

I was genuinely sorry for them.

And half ashamed of myself for being so different.

You've chosen one, sir? Yes, what's his name?

Philip Tuby.

Mr. Tuby.

Name's Ollant. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ollant.

We'll be writing to you, of course, to let you know when you should join us up

north. Thank you. Well done.

It wasn't their fault, of course, poor little chaps.

It was probably more to do with my mood of defeat and failure in my

relationships with people.

But that afternoon, something not just unfortunate but sinister crept into

my life on the stage.

Yes.