Original subtitles

Have you any idea just how much shit

your boy and his mates are in?

Witness says they were negotiating

with a bunch of sheiks over what looked like a gold bath.

- Gold bath.

- Spread the word, Hate 'Em.

The Mad Hatter's Tea Party will commence tomorrow.

Vic Hill escaped.

Took a guard hostage and staged a riot.

When you'd two get out? About 37 minutes ago.

- What's gotten into you?

He thinks you put the moves on her.

I am not putting the moves on Chloe.

- Tread carefully.

The posh one's got a hard on for you.

Of course I take you seriously, Charlie.

No, look, I... I mean... that way.

- Uh...

- You should be in prison

finishing out the rest of your sentence.

What the hell have you gone and done?

I think I should be asking you the very same question.

My old lady suppin' a glass of wine

with my old mate.

Very fucking cozy.

Only Vic Hill could think two friends

having a meal together needs more explaining

than a bloody jailbreak.

Well, the imagination doesn't too many fences to leap

before it runs wild, if you know what I mean.

- Just take a breath, Vic.

Lily was arrested last night, and we thought it best

that she didn't go back home alone.

Arrested? For what?

It was nothing, you don't need to worry about it.

- No, he needs to know, Lil.

Bob Fink planted a shooter at the house.

Pinched her on a false gun charge.

- Bob Fink?

Why'd he come through the doors?

- I don't know, Vic.

Maybe he thought I had an ear on the gossip.

This bullion robbery's got everyone

riled up all over again.

And do you... have an ear on the gossip, Lil?

Hmm?

15 years later, and you're still obsessed with the gold.

You haven't even given me a hug.

She's been through the wringer.

She needs your support, mate.

Am I to understand that you're advising me...

how to talk to my wife? No.

No, not at all, Vic.

I'm just trying to keep everybody happy.

- Then do just that, Norm.

Keep me happy.

Give me a clue.

A whiff to sniff out my pile.

- You're chasing shadows, Vic.

Hate 'Em? Vic?

- Fancy a stroll?

Nothing like an afternoon walk to give one clarity.

What do you say, Norman?

That's a quality job we did on that.

Oh, see, this is not a question

about quality, Uncle Dean.

Yeah, more a question of portability.

- You what?

- Move around-able-ness?

Oh!

See, a bath's a bit difficult to move, innit?

More, we, uh... gonna need it re-smelted.

- Re-smelted?

The fu...

Eh, we will do it.

On one condition.

- All right.

Who have I gotta iron out this time?

No, no! Hey, no!

No, no!

No fighting this time, Billy son.

Just a wee chat.

- A wee chat?

Oi, come here. You all right?

I got Norman's message.

Told me Bob Fink had arrested ya.

- Yeah, we've got

bigger problems than Fink right now, Albert.

- Go on.

- Your dad's out.

He's out? What do you mean he's out?

- As in out of prison.

Bowling around as free as a bird.

Busted out with Hate 'Em All this afternoon.

He's broken out to get the gold.

- All roads leave to Rome.

Selfish prick.

We've gotta tell him we've got it.

No, no, you can't do that, Albert.

Why? He's not thinking straight.

He'll mess it all up, and he'll take you down with him.

What you gotta do

is get him off the street, just get him off the street.

Yeah?

Who's this?

This is Chloe Koen, Mum, my business associate.

Hey, Mrs. Hill. It's really nice to meet you.

Since when did you have a business associate?

Chloe, fill her in. You be nice.

I'm gonna go have a look for him.

There are only a couple places that he could be.

- So tell me, Chloe...

What exactly is your racket?

Well, I... I'm not sure what my racket is, Mrs. Hill.

I've just been helping Albert with some connections

to help move...

The, uh... consignment.

You're too pretty for a fence.

I don't see myself as a fence.

More of a facilitator.

And are you an effective facilitator?

- Uh... Heh!

I'd say I was a work in progress.

And can you actually help Albert move this consignment,

or are you just pissing in the wind

like everybody else in this neighborhood?

- I'm doing my best, Mrs. Hill.

Well, I need you to do better, Chloe.

My family's in trouble.

- Ugh!

What are you doing here, Master Charles?

What are you doing here, Staff?

I attend the manor house once monthly

to besom out the cobwebs.

- "Time will surrender dormant

"so the rainbows of new eras can emerge.

Despite the hollowness of you."

I think a hot bath and a change of clothes for you.

I can't have a bath, my dear friend.

The gold tub is gone.

Long gone.

- Gold tub, Master Charles?

Mmm, it's presently being re-smelted

into a giant, gold, gleaming bust of Albert Hill

by Uncle Dean and his clan of gypsy artisans.

What on earth are you talking about?

Shh. I speak secrets.

To London, Staff.

All this country air

is starting to repair my lungs.

Whoa!

Christ's sake, Dwyer, is nowhere sacred?

- Sorry, sir, it's Bob Fink.

He's become a full-blown liability.

Shot up a carpark, killing Father John in the process.

Then takes it upon himself to pinch Lily Hill

on a trumped up gun charge.

Look... If Fink wants to piss the day away

chasing B-listers, he can arrest the family goldfish

for all I care.

He's up to something, sir. I think that he's got a lead.

- You have an entire unit

of the Flying Squad at your disposal.

Do you need a bigger strap-on

to sort out one problematic little officer?

Oh, no, the strap-on I have should suffice, sir.

You need to focus your attention on finding Vic Hill.

If anyone can lead us to the bullion

and help crack this investigation, it's him.

- Yes, sir.

Hey, Nas, it's Chloe Koen here.

I have a business proposition

that I think you'll be interested in.

Give me a call back when you get this message.

Okay, speak soon. Kiss kiss.

To the nearest public house, Staff.

- Absolutely not.

I'm taking you home to sober up.

Well, that is not gonna happen.

I'm gonna, uh...

What do you think you're doing?!

- Anon, Staff.

Master Charles! Get back here immediately!

Master Charles!

- Here he is.

Lady Carnation, Billy Ayers.

- Even more like him up close.

- Uh...

What's this all about?

- This is the chat.

I'll, uh, I'll leave youse to it.

- I'm, uh, sorry,

but do I know you?

- You know of me.

King Royston.

- As in my old man?

- Heh.

- What about him?

- I'm afraid I'm the one

that had him done over, lad.

As in... cut to ribbons.

- Well, good on you.

I'm sure he had it coming.

Billy! Wait!

So... the truck barrels down the frog 'n toad...

Hits the spike strip... Pop pop pop pop pop!

Tires shredded like cheddar stand at ease...

I run up to the driver all cock and bulls

when he pulls out a heater.

Sticks dos barrels right in my boat race...

But I was too quick for him.

I smack the heater out of his German bands,

swing it around at him,

and he pony traps in his Alan Wickers.

- Look it up on YouTube, mate.

It's all there in full digital glory.

- Can I get a picture with you?

I've never met a real life gangster before.

- Well, now you have.

It's all Dom Perignon

and trips to Rio from now on, darling.

- She's dying, you know.

- Shame.

- All she wants is a wee word.

Talk about the old times.

No, I know everything I need to know.

I'll tell the boys to stop smelting then.

Will I?

Right.

What do you think she wants to talk about?

- How should I know?

Gloat, probably.

Listen, my parents,

however you tell it,

they come out looking like tossers.

A pair of irresponsible wankers.

Random shag, baby on a doorstep,

and a dead pikey, and she is the one that offed him.

Ah, that's a shit story.

- Want to know what I think?

Here we go. I think it suits you.

Having a half-assed idea of it all.

- Yeah, and how's that then?

'Cause as long as you're not tied to something solid,

Billy Ayers, you can walk away whenever you like.

- After you.

Oh, I love what you've done with the place, doll.

You can move in if you like.

Could do with a hard man's touch.

- Be rude not to.

- Well, well, well.

Look what the pussycat dragged in.

Oh, God. Not you again.

- Buckle up, Charlie.

You're in for a rough ride.

- Very subtle.

- There he is.

Oh, Albert, my son and heir!

- Father.

You know, you're a resourceful one, you know.

How'd you find us, Albert?

- Call it an educated guess.

Oh, he's half shot up your boy, isn't he?

Yeah, the apple does not fall

far from the tree, Hate 'Em.

- Ain't that the truth.

Come here, boy. Give me a hug.

Come on, give me a hug.

Oh! Ohh.

I feel the strain of 15 years of loss

in your embrace, boy.

- You're half cut.

- Oh, well, that is incorrect,

because I am intoxicated

on possibility.

Oh! Come here.

Get on down here. Come on, here, like that.

Now you, come here.

So what's the idea of you busting out of prison?

Eh, you know Mum's worried sick.

Your Mum seems all right to me, Albert.

In fact, she is positively made up.

Yeah, well, why don't you come back to Norman's

and lay low for a little bit, eh?

Oh, lay low? I think not, son.

Myself and Hate 'Em, we've got things to do.

Is that not right, my trusty steed?

Right, yeah, our calendar's are fully booked.

What things? You know.

Pot of gold, end of the rainbow and all that.

You heard anything about those chancers that boosted it?

- Yeah.

You got your shell-like close to the wire, right, boy?

- I don't know anything.

Probably out of the country and sold by now, innit?

No! Oh, no, I beg to differ.

No? Sold? No.

I beg to differ, you see, because...

I can smell it. It's close by.

- Very close.

- Yeah, well, who knows, eh?

You do know you two stand out like a pair of big bollocks

on the back end of a very small dog, don't ya?

Why don't you do yourself a favor

and get your ass over to Norman's

and give Mum one less thing to worry about, eh?

Don't make your mum's worries your own, boy.

You'll never grow up.

Oi, Albert... Albert, where you going?

Stay, stay! We'll have a shandy.

Flying Squad. Shit.

- Mum, I found him.

Where is he? Is he okay?

He's fine. He's at the Spieler.

There's two... two unmarked outside casing the joint.

Looks like Heavy Mob.

We've gotta get him out of there now.

I hope you told him off... I did!

- Get a load of these two.

I'd go with the one on the left.

- She'd eat you alive, mate.

If I ever catch him snorting bugle

off that bird's tits again,

I'd chop it off and put it

in the mince, I shall.

Dad, we gotta get you out of here now.

There's plainclothes outside. You sure, son?

Yes, I'm sure. Come on.

I've got a van running in the back alley.

Wait for me, wait for me! Hey, wait for... Oof!

You two look a little suspicious.

Lurking around like a couple of pedos.

What you up to then, eh?

I'll tell you what they're up to, Shell.

They're waiting for us, aren't you, boys?

No, Dad, hold up. Slow down, slow down.

Slow down, slow down.

- Hey, hang on, oi!

No, no! No chance.

- Move.

- Ow!

Vic, I think I've been stung.

Ow! Me too.

Oh, they've dirty, filthy blow-piped us, Hate 'Em!

Ah, they've done me again, Vic!

Hey! Dad, get in the van.

- Unh!

Eddie?

Albert?

- Sorry.

- Unh!

Oh, he's touching me, he's touching me!

- Hate 'Em?

Albert? Wait for me!

Vic! Vic! Vic!

- You are so naughty!

Jonsey, Jonesy! Isn't that...

- Hate 'Em All Henry.

Get off! Move, move!

- Vic!

Wait for me.

- Too rough, mate!

Shit! Get back in the car.

Fuck!

So... this is what it's come to, eh?

Shot and tied up by my own family.

- What do you expect?

It's the only way we could get you to listen.

- You listen to me, Albert.

You unite right now, or so help me God,

I will tear you another asshole!

For God's sake, shut up, Victor!

Just shut up!

Leave me alone with your father, please, Albert.

No, I'm staying here with you.

I need to talk to your dad alone.

Go on.

Let's hear it, Lily. I'm all ears.

- All I've ever wanted...

is to have you back home.

Don't you understand?

- So untie me.

Let me show you what I can do for my family.

You're bugger-all use to us in prison, Vic.

Oh, so I've been bugger-all use for 15 years.

The penny drops. I have paid my price.

It is time to collect.

And what about the price me and Albert have paid, eh?

What about all those years

that boy never had a father?

And I never had a husband?

I'm very sorry about that, Lily.

If you untie me,

I promise you I will make it up to both of you.

- What we are owed

cannot be weighed in gold, Vic.

Do not leave me tied up in here, Lily Hill!

- You will stay in that chair

until you grow a brain

or a conscience, Victor Hill.

I'd be happy with either.

- Lily.

Lily!

Lily!

- All right, then.

Let's hear it.

Expect you know your mummy was a singer.

Eh, Romeo and Juliet it ain't, but...

it has a certain class.

Yeah, well, even a deadbeat has his moments.

Ah, yes, you probably thought she was a drunken slut

and he was there to nick the tour bus, eh?

Well, I may have started rumors to that effect.

Well, that doesn't change anything, does it?

He had his warnings. He knew the stakes.

Marriage promise was struck when we were still kiddies.

Ask you this, love.

Why do you think he risked it all that morning?

You must have wondered.

All he had to do was leave your ma alone for five minutes,

meet me at the altar, he'd still be alive.

It's okay. That's it, baby.

- Drunk, stubborn.

How should I know?

- He sent me this.

The night before...

Oh.

Poetic little bugger, weren't he?

- "I'm sorry, but feck it,

I love her."

That doesn't help.

And it doesn't change anything.

Put down roots. Take a stand.

- Take it serious.

All that fairytale bullshit.

It's what got him killed.

- Aah!

No. No, you daft twat!

What killed him was sending a sorry note

to someone who couldn't read!

- You bastard!

Well, I stayed here anywhere.

And I tell you, Billy, it's an easy life.

Satellite telly, BaByliss foot spa,

and access to every dreamboat in camp.

But sometimes, Billy, sometimes...

The hardest thing is the better thing, you know?

I learned that the same time as me ABCs.

He made the right choice.

I'm sorry I buggered it up for him,

and I wanted to say so before...

I don't...

Oh... Isn't this lovely, Charlie?

Getting to know each other a little better

over a bit of raw fish.

What the hell do you want from me,

you fuckin' lunatic?

- You know exactly what I want.

But I'm done asking,

so I'll just let you volunteer the information

in your own good time.

- You'll get nothing from me.

Do you think your friend Albert Hill

would take the same punishment for you?

I do. Twice as much.

- Well, where is he, Charlie?

You're the one tied up on the floor

like a beaten dog.

You're the one about to get

each and every one of your teeth

kicked down your noble throat.

And your best pal, maybe your only pal,

is nowhere to be seen.

You might want to consider

re-buttering your bread mate.

Ahem.

Fair warning, mate.

Things are gonna get a lot worse

before they get better.

- Oh, God.

We had him. Had?

In the past tense,

as in, "We no longer have him?"

He slipped through the net, sir.

- Far be it from me

to draw attention to the self-evident,

but in this age of equal opportunities,

I was so very much looking forward

to proving the naysayers wrong in my...

recommending a woman to lead the Flying Squad.

I was the best candidate for the job.

Well, that's where we differ, Dwyer.

I think the best candidate for the job

would be up to the task of tracking

a stick up artist long past his sell-by date

and his eight-foot Neanderthal bushwhacker

without allowing them...

to slip through the net.

- I can explain, sir...

- One moment, please, Dwyer.

If you don't lock down

Vic Hill, Dwyer, I will.

And then what use would I have for you?

- On it, sir.

- Right.

Vic.

- You okay?

Having a ball, thanks for asking.

I feel for you, Vic. Truly.

- Heh.

- I can't imagine being away

from a... beautiful family like yours

all those years.

It would've tore me apart.

Every second of every day.

- Here.

- Hmm. Ahh.

How long have we known each other, Norm?

- Wow. Heh!

Must gotta be pushing 30 years now.

We kicked in a few doors back in the day, eh, pal?

- More than doors, Vic.

- I've let you all down.

I know that now.

- I want to make it right.

For Lily.

For Albert.

For you, Norm.

- For me?

- Well, let's face it.

Things haven't been easy for you

these past 15 years either.

Got left out on your ass when I got nicked.

I feel responsible for that.

- Well...

Hasn't been easy.

- Cut me loose, old pal.

Let me make things right.

For all of us.

- Well, that gold is...

as much mine as it is anybody's.

Right, Vic?

- More than most, Norm.

- Ahh.

Ohh! Ahh!

- Be lucky, Vic.

- Luck's for losers, Norm.

Listen, I... It's possible that I've...

been, like...

Keeping you at arm's length or whatever.

For...

For the wrong reasons.

I'm so used to just...

- Move-about-able-ness?

- Move-about-able-ness.

Then... maybe we should just

stay put for a bit.

See if it fits.

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

Your owner's a bugger, you know that?

Ahh.

Oh, Scooter...

I think it's possible I may have cocked up

in an unprecedented sort of way.

Remind me to apologize to Chloe and Albert.

If I ever get out of here alive.

- Okay, Nas, that's great.

Let me know your travel arrangements

and we'll work out all the details.

Okay.

Bye.

Yes!

What are you all excited about?

Nas Stone is coming to London tomorrow morning.

- Is he really?

And we're happy about this why?

He wants the rest of the gold, Albert.

- Like all of the rest of it.

I have to be competitive with the price.

15% discount for the bulk purchase.

I hope that's okay, but he says he'll take all of it.

Yeah, no, that's more than okay.

That is brilliant!

Albert!

Yeah? What's up?

He's gone. What do you mean he's gone?

- Your dad, he's gone!

Ah!

- Oof! Unh!

Shit! Unh.

You ever think to use the zebra crossing?

It might be beneficial to your health, mate.

Vi?

- Bob?

I'll rip your head off!

- Put the brakes on, Vic.

You wouldn't want to assault an officer of the law

on top of everything else you're up against at the minute.

You ain't the law, Bob. You never were.

Whether I am or ain't, it suited you fine once.

-15 years I've wondered.

Why? Why'd you do it, Bob?

The gold.

Decent cut earmarked for you.

Why did you rip me off?!

I could pretend it was the promise of a bigger cut.

I could pretend the badge was still worth a toss

back then, but you know the truth, Vic?

They took me out for a pint.

Flying Squad detectives and brass.

They acted like I was crew.

That simple.

To to you lot, I was only ever...

- Convenient grass.

Why you hassling my family?

Tracking Albert, arresting Lily.

What do you want?

- You know what.

Same thing as you.

- Nah.

It's more than the gold isn't it, Bob?

Fact is, it ain't really the gold you want at all, is it?

Then you tell me, Vic. What is it?

What is it I want?

- Bragging rights.

Pride.

Suck some of that poison inside of you.

Show 'em all who the smart one is, right?

I see you.

- I put you...

I put you onto the best scores of your career.

I made Vic Hill. Me!

All you had to do

was just show a little bit of appreciation.

- Aww!

The cold bloody fish who just wanted a cuddle.

You sold us to the Sweeney

just because they pretended to like you.

First chance they got,

they heaved you out of the way and all.

Do you know why, do you know why?

- Enlighten me, Vic.

Because you're a sinister bollock, a fuck-up merchant

that no one wants at the party.

It's because you cannot be trusted

with big boys toys.

- You're right.

I am a very sad man.

I'm a very lonely man.

Not like you.

Surrounded by your loving family.

Where are they again?

Some people just don't appreciate

what they've already got.

They're too blind to see

what's right under their noses.

- Oh.

You know something.

You've got a lead on the metal, haven't ya, hmm?

- You've only gotta ask, Vic.

I'll clue you in. Level playing field.

May the best man win and all that.

All you've gotta do is say "please".

- Like, you said, pride.

You rob me of mine. I'll have yours instead.

- The gold is mine!

And I will not have some slimy little two-Bob shit nick it

because nobody ever hugged him!

- You don't know, do ya?

You have no clue.

- Know what?

- Bang.

You hugged your boy lately, Vic?

You think he trusts you with the big-boy toys?

- Albert?