Original subtitles

(Film reel rolling)

(ominous music)

(dramatic violin music)

(ominous music)

(mysterious music)

- I will not look at it.

It is nothing but a coat hanging on the door.

It's nothing but a coat hanging on the door.

I moved all the furniture to my liking,

I made everything safe.

Could draw the bed curtains.

Then I'll not see what's there.

Oh, come on, you're a grown man.

(haunting music)

Covering the Ipswich elections

has provided some rich entertainment.

A worse crowd of...

A worse crowd of hypocrites

I have never seen.

I must think about that seriall've promised Mr. Sloane.

(mysterious music)

It is nothing but a coat, hanging on the door.

But still you...

look at me!

(haunting music) (heavy breathing)

There.

Now you cannot hurt me.

I've had them move the bed, you see,

so that I may sleep with my head pointing north.

So, all will be well.

Ah, I should sleep.

(mysterious music)

(woman screams)

(knocking)

- My dear sir.

I implore you, give me refuge.

I have had a shock, sir.

A most terrible shock.

- Who the devil are you?

- Upon my word, sir, I never would've dreamt

of such a thing.

- Please, sit down.

- I had left my watch upon the table downstairs

you see, sir, where I had enjoyed a brandy or two

with another gentleman.

Then upon returning to my room I realized.

With my candle, I set out to retrieve it, which I did.

(ominous music)

But coming back, all those stairs, sir,

they were difficult to climb...

endless corridors.

I became quite lost.

(ominous music)

I tried many doors,

and at last I thought that I had found my room,

and I went in.

(ominous music)

(muttering)

- Well, go on!

- So, I went in, and got undressed,

got into bed and drew the curtains.

Then...

Imagine, if you will sir,

my fear

when I heard another presence

in the room.

- A presence?

- Yes.

(mysterious music)

- And pray, sir, what action did you take?

- Well, I had to make my presence known, sir.

Do you see?

What could I do?

Delicacy would not permit me

to be seen by a lady,

in my nightcap.

- A lady?

- Yes, sir.

I was in a lady's bedroom.

(whimsical music) (humming)

(ominous music) (creaking boards)

Time was against me, so I shouted out,

"Ahem!"

Very loudly.

- Pray, sir.

What was the lady's response?

- I regret, a violent one.

She screamed most horribly

and pushed me out of the room.

She threatened me with an umbrella!

I had no candle and needed assistance,

and so you see, I am at your mercy, sir.

(knocking) (tense music)

- Quick, quick, hide!

(tense music)

Can I help you?

- Where is he?

Where is the brute?

- With respect, madam, are you referring to me?

- I trust, sir, that you are a gentleman.

But there is a rogue in our midst.

A bespectacled rogue, sir,

who has affronted my modesty.

I am but a helpless female, sir, as you see!

- This is a most shocking tale, madam.

I did think... I thought l heard some footsteps

come past my door a few minutes back.

(tense music)

Uh...

Please, take my coat, forthe sake of your modesty.

- Thank you, sir.

Very well.

I will pursue the rascal.

I will call the Constable.

Is no woman safe?

(tense music)

- Sir, it's safe to come out.

- God bless you, sir.

You have my undying gratitude, mister-

- Dickens.

Charles M.

And you are?

- Pickwick, sir, at your service.

(ominous music)

This is a hazardous place, sir.

Sir?

(mysterious music)

- It's...

rather cold in those corridors, please, take my coat.

- I couldn't possibly sir-

- No, no, no, I insist.

- Well then, sir.

Thank you.

I bid you goodnight.

- Goodnight.

(ominous music)

(laughs)

I do hope Mr. Pickwickdoesn't meet his nemesis

in those dark corridors.

Candle.

He should have a candle.

Mr. Pickwick!

Pickwck?

Mr. Pickwick?

Huh.

This place is like a barn, and as cold as one.

(mysterious music)

(pen scribbling)

"The Pickwick Papers".

It is nothing but a coat hanging on the door.

(1940s dance hall music)

- Mr. Gibson.

Mr. Gibson.

Mr. Gibson?

- Good evening, David.

- Good evening, Mr. Gibson.

And how are you, sir?

- I'm very well, thank you.

And yourself?

- I'm fine.

- How old is your little one now?

- Oh, young Sebastian, he turned three last month.

- Three?

Goodness, doesn't time fly?

- The same as usual, sir?

- The same, David.

- No flowers this year?

- Uh, no, no, not this year.

- Well, you know we can always arrange something for you.

- Ah, I felt it was getting a bit stale,

a bit of a cliche.

- Of course.

You're all booked in, room 218.

- Thank you.

Oh, one other thing.

How do I look?

- You look perfectly handsome, Mr. Gibson.

- That's good to know.

That is good to know.

218.

(knocking)

- Come in.

(faint dance hall music)

Tim.- Julie, you look ravishing.

- Thank you.

- I brought you some flowers.

- Oh, beautiful.

How was your journey?

- Fine.

- Did you remember to lock the back door?

- And I turned off the light in the hall, and-

- Happy anniversary.

- Happy anniversary.

- Here, let me take this.

You don't need it.

Come on, stand up straight.

- Cheers.

- They look after uswell here, don't they?

- As well as we keep coming.

(chuckles)

- Forty years.

Not many people are married this long.

When do we get the letter from the Queen?

- That's for the 60th, dear, Diamond.

This is our Ruby.

- Oh, so she'll send us the Crown Jewels.

- Maybe a nice bottle of ruby red.

(chuckling)

- Forty years.

Can you believe it?

- I can believe it, I was there.

- For most of it.

- It was a different world forty years ago.

This room's certainly different.

This new wallpaper, ugh.

There's no accounting for taste these days.

Or cleanliness.

You know, maybe it hasn't changed that much after all,

I think they've just painted over the cracks.

(chuckling)

- Styles change.

Which reminds me, I found something today.

- Show me what you found, Timothy.

Well, I never...

Where did you find this?

- In the loft.

I had a rummage, when Richardcame to fix the boiler.

- You know, some imagesin my mind are like smoke.

They come to me quickly,

but break away before I have a chance to hold onto them.

But this, the day you came home,

it's as clear to me now as it was then.

Have you shown the children?

- I showed Daniel, he loved it.

- Of course.

He can put it in that family tree he's making.

I think these were some of my favorite days.

Strange how I can have such fond memories

of such dark times.

- Everything's better in the past.

- Especially the wallpaper.

- Especially the wallpaper.

(laughing)

- We could always add a splash of paint.

This wine's a nice shade of red.

Oh, come on, let's dance.

- No, no, no, my legs aren't up to it.

- Yes they are!

- I said no!

(knocking)

(melancholic music)

- Good evening, Mr. Gibson.

- Where's David?

- David's finished his shift.

- I thought he finished at 9.

- Not these days, no.

I suppose he wants to be with his son.

- [Tim] Oh.

- Dinner for two?

- Yes, right, thank you.

I'll take it.

- Can I help you?

- Nope, that's all, thank you.

- Okay.

(soft piano music)

- There's some new staff this year.

David's not around this evening.

Did you know his son is three now?

- Yes, I heard.

How lovely.

I'm not in a hurry to look after a toddler again though.

- [Tim] Oh?

- Well, remember Sophie?

- Not so much.

Too sleep deprived most of the time.

- Exactly.

We didn't do too badly though.

Did we?

- What, with Sophie?

- I mean, they both turned out okay, didn't they?

So, we can't have done a terrible job.

- Julie, I think we did a marvelous job.

Daniel looks after me much better

than I looked after him these days.

Still your favorite?

- Well remembered.

- Are you okay?

- I'm happy.

I'm happy with everything wedid, everything we've done.

- Me too, my lovely.

Me too.

Julie, where's all this coming from?

- I don't think we should come back next year.

I mean, I don't think you should come back next year.

Tim, forty years, Tim.

- Here's to fifty.

It's been so wonderful.

- Every single year, every single minute has been perfect.

But you don't need me anymore.

Not silly old me.

(Tim cries)

- I miss you so much.

I miss you every single day.

- I miss you too, darling.

- Don't take this away.

- I don't want to, but we both know I have to.

- Yes.

I know.

I know.

- Will you do something for me?

- Anything.

Anything for you.

(dance hall music starts up)

- Thank you for the flowers.

They're beautiful.

- Not as beautiful as you.

(music: 'The Boogie Man Is Here' plays)

- Please be careful with my machine.

(horn beeps)

- [Man] Machine?

- Shall we proceed?

- I've been working here twenty years.

I ain't never seen a ghost.

- The Ghost Club have heard many stories

originating from this hotel.

- Ghost Club?

You got a club?

What you do in' here then?

That's where you'll find your ghosts.

- No.

The Ghost Club is not a club for ghosts.

We explore unexplained phenomena

and seek out links between this mortal coil

and the spirit plane.

Dickens was a member.

(mysterious music)

(knocking)

Come in.

- Good day, madam.

- Good day, good day.

- Good day.

- And what can I do for you?

- I'm the manager.

- You have my congratulations.

Is that all?

- Yes.

- Hm.

- I mean no.

I understand you're conducting an investigation.

- Of sorts.

- An investigation into

the paranormal?

- Yes, that is correct.

- Well...

Do you have to?

- I don't have to do anything,

but I want to, and so I shall.

May I present to you,

the creation that will make me famous.

The Spectre-O-Meter.

- Funny name.

- It measures the harmonic frequency of the atmosphere

and determines if a spirit lurks among us,

and then pinpoints thewhereabouts of the spirit

and expresses it with this self perpetuating locus device.

- The what?

- This arrow.

Years of studying the spirit world

have left their mark on me,

and the moment I arrived at this hotel,

I could sense a strong spiritual presence.

- You could?

Oh dear!

- Mister...

- Urlowe.

Willy Urlowe.

- Mr. Urlowe.

What do you know of the phantoms that inhabit your hotel?

- Oh, I don't know.

- Mr. Urlowe, I can tell when information

is being withheld from me,

especially when the information

is being withheld very poorly.

- Oh.

Well, I haven't heard anything myself,

but I think some of the guests have,

and then there was...

- Yes?

- There was that incident with a predecessor of mine.

But it's something that the staff of this hotel

would much rather forget,

which is why we don't discuss what happened

with the guests, you see.

- Mr. Urlowe, I am no ordinary guest.

- Well, no, of course not, forgive me.

- Well?

- Well, what?

- What happened?

- Oh.

He was murdered.

Most unpleasantly,

by his wife.

Big kitchen knife.

Horrible.

The guests sometimes hear him crying in the corridors.

(man yells)

Poor chap.

- And the wife?

- Quite mad.

They found her in the bath in room 223.

- Ah, violent death and suicide.

Possible unfinished business.

Could be sentient.

Excellent!

This is excellent.

And has the wife's spirit ever been seen?

- I don't know, and I don't want to know!

Ghosts are bad for business.

No one wants to stay in a hotel

where there's ghouls andspectres and what have you.

- Mr. Urlowe,

I have traveled all the way from London

to stay in this hotel,

and for just one reason.

- The charming rooms?

- No, Mr. Urlowe.

The rumors of otherworldly phenomena.

If I'm prepared to stay in this hotel

for that sole reason,

don't you think others will be tempted to do the same?

- [Willy] Well, when you put it that way...

- Now, I'm determined to try my machine here,

and I invite you to join me.

- [Willy] I don't think-

- Courage, Mr. Urlowe.

The spirits cannot harm you.

Aren't you curious about your hotel

and the mysteries here within?

- Very well.

You're going to do it anyway,

and I suppose I'd rather be here

when you switch it on.

- Very good.

Let us begin!

(machine whirring)

(electricity sparking)

Look!

(dramatic music)

(machine stops)

(knocking)

- Oh, no!

(knocking)

- Spirit!

Reveal yourself!

I am your friend!

- Spirit?

It's only me.

- Blast!

You didn't see a phantom

on the other side of that door, did you?

- No.

Can't say that I did.

- Curses!

Failed again.

Blast this machine!

- I came to see what all the noise was about.

The lights was flickering downstairs.

I heard you talking to someone.

- Yes, to Mr. Urlowe.

- Mr. Urlowe?

- Yes, Urlowe, the manager.

He's in the wardrobe.

He joined me in my experiment.

My failed experiment.

Mr. Urlowe, you can come out now.

- Mr. Urlowe's dead.

- What?

No, he's in the wardrobe, I tell you.

See?

- He can't be.

(fearful whimpering)

Mr. Urlowe?

- This is the manager of the hotel, is it not?

- I'm the manager.

- Calm down, Mr. Urlowe.

- He was murdered.

That's what happened to him

In this hotel.

(frantic shrieking) (dramatic music)

(lightning and thunder)

(thunder rumbles)

- [Man] The killer stepped from the shadows.

Laura knew with cold certainty

that she would not live to see the morning.

(thunder rumbles)

- Good evening.

- Evening.

- I'd like a room, please.

- Yes.

Yes, of course.

How long are you staying with us, mister-

- Fearless.

Peter Fearless.

- Mr. Fearless.

- A couple of nights.

- Room 17 is...

well, it's really very comfortable.

- Is it a quiet room?

I need a quiet room.

- All our rooms are quiet.

- Well, that's good to hear.

- Do you need a hand with your-

- Just the key.

Good evening.

(mysterious music)

- You are not going to believe

who's just walked in.

Yeah, I heard he had some sort of breakdown.

I... guess he's alright now.

(typewriter typing)

- Malcolm, it's Peter.

- [Malcolm] Peter, where the hell are you?

- Suffolk.

Ipswich, would you believe?

- [Malcolm] Ipswich?

Are you alright?

- Yeah, I'm fine.

Bloody great in fact, Malc.

Look, Malc,

I've started the new book.

- [Malcolm] Wow, Peter, that's fantastic.

- I thought I'd stick witha traditional ghost story

rather than guts and gore this time.

Suffolk has lots of ghosts and legends.

I might borrow a few for the book.

- [Malcolm] As long as you're okay.

Are you taking your...

You know, the-

- Yes.

I'm taking them.

I'm not stupid,

I just need some peace and quiet

to get on with my work, you know?

Make us both rich.

(tense music)

(low growling)

(monster growls)

(dog barks)

You told me all the rooms were quiet.

- Mr. Fearless.

- The dog in the next door room

is making it impossible for me to work.

- We don't allow dogs in here.

- That's plainly not the case.

(tense music)

Well, your pipes must be very rusty.

- My pipes are just fine, thank you.

- I'd like coffee in my room,

and a bottle of scotch.

You bloody idiot,

you dream t it.

(brush rustling)

Bloody Black Shuck.

(typewriter typing)

(mysterious music)

(tense music)

(phone ringing)

Yes?

- [Receptionist] Mr. Fearless?

- Yes.

- [Receptionist] You have a visitor.

- Peter!

I'm checking out.

Miss, my bill?

- Let's have one for the road.

- [Waitress] Can I get you another round, gents?

- It's brilliant, Peter.

It's brilliant.

This is your best work.

- I can't see me finishing it now.

- Really?

- I haven't got it in me Malc,

not since the breakdown.

- Yeah, but you've madea complete recovery,

you're 100 % fit, according to the doc.

- Peter Fearless.

I used to live up to my name.

Now I'm afraid of everything.

- You spend one more night at the hotel, on me,

a bottle of Johnny Walker, forty Rothmans,

old faithful here...

you just let it all hang out

and you just see what happens.

Spanish villa won't dig itsown swimming pool after all.

- No, not for me, Peter, no.

For you.

You've got to prove the doubters wrong,

and you've got to prove

that you still got what it takes.

- There we go, gents.

- What if I can't hack it?

- You may not succeed, but as your ag...

As your friend,

I think that you should at least try.

(tense music)

(typewriter typing)

(monster growls)

- [Secretary] You have reached the practice

of Dr. James Mathis.

Leave a message, we'll get back as soon as we can.

- Dr. Mathis, it's Peter Fearless, the writer.

Those pills, I'm having some side effects, I'm...

(monster growls)

Still got it.

No, no, I'm just a humble writer.

You need to talk to the fans,

they're the real experts.

I'm just here to set an example for them,

to help people face their fears.

A kind of spiritual guide through troubled times.

(loud crash)

(monster growls)

(intense music)

(thunder rumbles)

(knocking)

- Mr. Fearless.

(knocking)

Mr. Fearless?

We've had a complaint about the noise.

(woman screams)

(dramatic music)

(bell tolling)

- Come on.

Let's get registered, then we can have a drink.

(bell rings)

Evening, squire.

- What can I do for you?

- I've booked a room,

Mr. and Mrs. Jones?

- Unusual name.

Recently married?

- Yes, very.

- Room 27.

Along the corridor, up the stairs, turn left,

can't miss it.

Bathroom is third on the left,

breakfast 7:30 sharp.

Full English?

- Blimey.

Yes, thanks.- Thank you.

(lighthearted music)

Don't, Eddie!

- Sorry!

Did you get the, you know-

- No, what?

- Eddie, you know, the thing.

- Oh, no, I forgot.

- Eddie!

- Of course I got it.

A pack of three actually, make a night of it.

I told ya, I know my way around.

Man of the world, me.

(bell tolls)

- I can't remember which way we turn.

- I think we're in here.

- What is it?

- Nothing, just can't believe we got away with it.

- You do love me, don't you?

- Of course I do, sweetheart.

Would I do all this for someone I didn't love?

- No, I suppose not.

- Come on, Mrs. Jones.

Get that down ya.

(aircraft engines)

Can't see a thing out there.

(lights flickering)

- What's wrong with the lights?

- It's probably just the wiring.

(lights flickering)

- I don't think it's safe.

- I'll pop downstairs, have a word with the landlord.

Maybe we can change rooms or something.

- Don't be long.

- [Radio Host] And now this week,

taking a spotlight among the stars

is a young factory worker

who's going to sing for us.

His name is Walter Herbert Collier-

- Hello?

Hello?

(bell rings)

(lights flickering)

- Eddie?

Eddie?

(mysterious music)

- Hello?

(aircraft engines)

(sirens start up)

- Eddie,

is this a joke?

(sirens blaring)

(aircraft engines)

(light flickering)

(loud bang)

- Betsy.

Betsy.

- Eddie.

Hold me tight, Eddie.

It was so strange.

The light was flickering,

and then the room was filled with ash,

just drifting through the air like snow.

And then I woke up, and you were here.

- It was dead quiet down there,

except for the wireless.

But when I came back up,

the landlady was waiting in that long passage.

Said she could make us cocoa if we'd like.

I said maybe later.

- Oh, I could do with that cocoa,

it's freezing in here.

- It'll be warm under the covers.

- Oh, no, Eddie I can't, not now, I'm scared.

- You're safe with me.

- No, there's something odd in this place, I can't.

- I paid for it all.

Most of my wages.

I love you, Betsy.

I want you to be all mine.

- Eddie, I said no.

(knocking)

- Everything all right, Mrs. Jones?

- No.

I need to go home.

(door shuts)

- My bloody wages.

Yeah, very funny.

(lights flickering)

I paid good money for this room!

(banging)

Let me out!

Let me out!

(falling rubble)

- Just hang on a minute for me, Fred.

We've got time before the bus.

- All right, love.

- Hello there.

- How can I help you, madam?

- I wondered if your wife was around.

- What's this regarding?

- She did me a favor the last time I was here,

I just wanted to thank her.

- You must've been a little girl.

My wife passed away during the war.

- Oh dear, I'm so sorry, I must've made a mistake.

- It was back in '43.

Most of the Germanbombing was over the docks

or on Ransomes, the munitions factory.

I was a warden on duty, but l didn't like leaving her.

Not in her condition.

She promised me she'd be able to get

down to the cellar if it got bad, but...

in the end, she didn't have time.

Bomb hit the east wing of the hotel.

Brought it all down.

Seven dead, including my Daphne.

- I was so sure it was this hotel.

Room 27 B.

- The B rooms were all in the east wing.

Bomb took 'em all down.

- Right.

Come on, Fred.

Let's catch our bus.

- As of now, you are a representative of this hotel,

and you must always present yourself smartly.

This is for you.

- Uh, actually it's Maisy.

- [Woman] Any further questions, direct them to Tom.

- Is she always like that?

- Always.

Don't worry, it's easy to win her approval.

Just think Victorian servant.

- Be seen and not heard, don't have any ideas of my own.

Anything else?

- Try not to smile?

- [Woman] Come along, these rooms won't clean themselves.

- We better go.

- Daisy.

- All the rooms on this floor need to be spotless

by one o'clock.

Remember, the devil's in...

the detail.

I have high hopes for you, Daisy.

- Maisy!

- Alright,

I'll start at the other end,

and we'll meet in the middle.

The last one to finish buys the first drinks?

- Alright.

- See you later then,

Daisy.

(mysterious music) (keys jingling)

- Seriously?

You've got to be kidding me.

(mysterious music)

(vacuum running)

Hm?

(door creaks)

- Wow, that is a mess.

- I just cleaned this room.

- You didn't do a very good job.

- No, I mean I've already cleaned this room.

- Okay...

well, I need more polish.

(mysterious music)

(vacuum running)

(scrubbing) (bottle spraying)

- Ugh!

(bell rings)

- Staff never ring the bell, Daisy.

- There's a problem.

- A problem?

- Yes, the room, room 116.

I've tried to clean it,

but it refuses to stay clean.

- Look, there are two types of people in this world, Daisy.

Those to whom the world happens,

and those who happen to the world.

You're gonna go back to that room

and show it who's boss.

Conquer it.

(phone rings)

- Please, can I just show you?

- Time's slipping away, Daisy.

(mysterious music) (clock ticking)

(Maisy breathes in)

(ominous music)

(door closes)

(Maisy groans)

(whispered voices and dischordant music)

(bath running)

(thud)

- Tom, have you seen Daisy?

- No.

- Can you give her a hand to finish by 1?

- So my reward for finishing early

is to do more work?

- Practice makes perfect.

Oh, and don't get too distracted.

(bath running)

(knocking)

- Maisy.

Maisy?

(bath running)

Come on!

Hey!

Are you okay?

- It's the room!

(mysterious music)

(bath starts running)

(door slams)

- I do hope you have a pleasant stay,

and if there's anything we can do, anything at all,

just ask.

- Thank you.

(jaunty music)

(door creaks)

- What are you doing in my room?

- I'm checking for...

Mice.- Mice?!

- No! Not mice.

Um...

rabbits.

- Rabbits.

- Yeah.

Yeah, they can be a really big problem.

Always chewing things, they've got really big teeth.

(knocking)

Hello?

Any rabbits in there?

(mysterious music)

- I don't know what to do with you, Bob!

Head office has been on to me,

and they're suggesting I let you go.

But I've said no, no, Bob, he's a nice boy,

he's a nice boy.

- Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

- [Mrs. Jones] But I'm not sure

you've got what it takes, Bob.

- Well, I do, it's-

- I think you're more of a lost soul.

- I spent years just drifting around.

I don't want to go back there.

I need a purpose.

I need this, Mrs. Jones.

- Then you'd better back your ideas up, Bob.

Come up with a plan.

This is your last chance, then it's curtains.

- Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

You won't regret it.

- Get out.

Out!

- You can do this, Bob.

You're not a nice boy.

You're a...

You're a tiger, gr r,

gr r!

Grr!

Grr!

GR R!

(cat meows)

(Bob yells)

(screaming)

- In my office, now!

- You said I should buck my ideas up.

- What were you thinking, Bob?

That poor family were traumatized!

I wouldn't be surprised if they sue us!

Oh, head office is gonna want my head on a block.

And to be honest, I'd rather it be yours!

Oh, Bob!

Can't you hide behind the curtains?

Woo hoo!

Move a bit of furniture, or...

tiptoe round their bedrooms in the night.

Or waft up and down the stairs.

Punters love that kind of thing.

Instead they get some blithering idiot

wanting to chop up their children!

- I don't know.

I guess I'm just not very, you know...

Ghostly.

- You must be able to do something, Bob.

- No.

I'm a terrible, terrible ghost.

- Pull yourself together, Bob.

(sobbing)

There must be something we can do.

(sobbing)

- I've got all sorts of bits and bobs

in my wardrobe, Mrs. Jones.

I'm a bit of a magpie, to be honest.

Hopefully we can find a look that's more suitable.

You know, woo!

Without being too, you know...

Eurghhh!

- Are you preparing to walk through the door?

- I'm trying to remember where I left my key.

- Oh!

Get in, get in.

(lighthearted music)

- Hello, Mrs. Jones, my name's Mr. Cuddles!

(catchy music)

I'll go and put an outfit on then, shall I?

- What's that under your arm?

- It's my head.

I'm a headless ghost.

- Headless ghost?

But I can see your head where your actual head is.

- Well, I haven't worked on that bit yet.

- Like I said, I'm finding this whole ghost thing

all very difficult.

- What other outfits have you got?

- It's very nice to meet you!

- No.

- I've got a present for Mrs. Jones.

(mysterious music)

(Mrs. Jones screams)

- No.

Have we got a problem here, Bob?

- I'm starting to get-

- What?

- A little bit... Little bit-

- Ticked off.

- Harsh words, Bob.

- I've given you loads of options,

but you don't seem to like any of them.

It's really quite...

frustrating.

- Frustrating?

- Mm.

- You should try being a hotel manager.

You have to please all the guests all the time,

and you have to smile all the time.

And when you want to get rid of a member of staff,

well, the paperwork is a nightmare!

- Well, let me tell you something, Mrs. Jones.

I might be a rubbish ghost,

but I'm certainly no quitter.

- What's the plan, Bob?

- One more outfit.

Make or break.

This is it.

(Mrs. Jones exhales)

Are you ready, Mrs. Jones?

- Yes.

Get on with it.

(Bob wails)

(laughing)

Are you winding me up?

- What?

It's a classic.

The absolute pinnacle of ghostliness.

The most recognizable and universally appreciated

symbol of eeriness.

- It's ridiculous!

- I think it makes a statement.

I'm a ghost, deal with it.

- Take it off.

- No.

- Take it off now!- No.

- Get it off!- No, I won't.

- Get if off, come on!

(groaning)

(tense music)

(Mrs. Jones screams)

(a dull thud)

Now...

Look what you've done!

You complete and utter idiot!

(bell rings)

(fingers tapping) (catchy music)

(giggling)

Come over here!

- Alright.

How would you like me?

- That's perfect, yeah.

(Mrs. Jones wails)

- [Woman] Oh my gosh!

- [Man] What's going on?

- [Woman] What is she do in'?

(coughing)

Is that meant to be scary?

- [Man] She must be mad.

(Mrs. Jones coughs)

Excuse me, can we help you?

(glass smashes)

(ATM beeping)

- Oh, Jesus,

Dobby, slow down!

This isn't do in' my health any good Dobby.

Slow down, don't draw attention to ourselves.

Christ.

I'm starting to feel a bit Uncle Dick.

(groaning)

- You...

Have...

Arrived...

- Give it.

- Leave it out, George, your missus

wouldn't even trust you with her TV remote.

- Not exactly a Premier Inn.

- It's perfect.

Beers top floor, stairlift broken.

Sorry.

Remind me to give Hobbit a smack.

(tense music)

- Scary, innit?

- Not as scary as your driving, Dobby.

- Ha ha.

- Come on!

(heartbeats)

(heavy breathing)

- You alright, George, mate?

- A bit sick.

- Car sick?

- Sick of your ugly mug.

(laughing) (whispering)

Do you hear that?

- It's probably Hobbit.

- Or your tinnitus.- Come on.

- Yeah.

(mysterious music)

- Well, you've made it.

(laughing)

- It went like a dream, Hobbit.

- Yes!- Yes!

(laughing)

- Mickey, boy, we did it.

The last of the Deptford 8.

- To the five of us.

God bless Tonka and Pat, fallen comrades.

God bless Lenny.

- Like you could've done it without me.

I'm surprised you found your way upstairs

without a pack of guide dogs.

- That's enough of your lip, sunshine.

(jarring music and screams)

Right.

Check the money, every note.

Any new ones, burn 'em!

(heart beating)

- Is that your granddaughter?

- My little Debbie.

Isn't she gorgeous?

I don't want her ending up like us.

She's gonna be respectable.

It's family that matters, Mick.

I'm doing this so she doesn't have to.

Is anyone else here?

Terry, Dobby,

give the place a look.

Make sure.

How did you find this place?

- People say it's haunted.

They keep seeing theses old,

decrepit corpses wandering around,

so you two should feel right at home.

- When I was your age,

I was out there with a shooter taking what I was owed.

You're just a bed wetter

sat in front of your laptop

and talking like a tart.

- Well the days of shooting your way out are long gone.

- When you've lived as long as I have,

you'll find that having the balls to fire a gun

buys you a lot of influence in this world.

(intense heartbeats)

(choking)

- Boss?

BOSS?!

- Well?

- Nothing.

- Where's Dobby?

- Who?

- Dobby.

- Don't know him.

- Are you mug gin' me off?

Jackie Dobson.

Don't mess me about Tel!

- Boss, it's just the four of us, and the kid.

- Have you all lost it?

Dobby was with us tonight.

He drove us here!

- Are you alright?

- Huh?

Yeah.

- He's cracking up.

- Shut up!

Boss,

We're all here, we're all fine,

and the main thing is, we've got this.

- This place reminds me ofthat pub on the highroad.

Massive rambling place.

- Oh, yeah.

Yeah!

The Black Horse!

You used to run that with Lenny Maitland.

Right, George?

- Tricky little fella, Lenny.

Disappeared with your money, didn't he?

- Shut up about Lenny Maitland.

Go and get the rest of the gear.

- Okay, Boss.

Just need to take a leak.

- Hurry up.

(man peeing)

What's going on Tel?

Am I cracking up?

- We're all cream cracker ed, Boss.

- I can't believe you don't remember Jackie Dobson.

Come on, Mountain.

Sort yourself out.

- Mountain?

What Mountain?

- Are you kid din' me?

Mountain!

He's in the khazi!

(dramatic music)

- There's no one else here, mate.

Just the four of us.

- The four of us?

There were six of us just now.

Are you scamming me, Mickey?

- Calm down!

Don't go into one.

- Now you and I go back a long way,

and you know what I doto people who cross me,

so are you gonna tell me what's going on?

- [Hobbit] What's going on is you're senile.

- You little-

- Mate, you need to calm down!

You're not well.

- [Hobbit] That's right, take a chill pill.

- Look, you shut up, sonny!

- Done something to my pills, haven't you?

- [Hobbit] What pills?

- Oh, I'm gonna get dark with you, son!

What's happened to the lights?

- It's derelict, innit?

The leccy's been off for years.

- Losing it, George?

- Terry, brass knuckles.

Terry!

- It's just me and you,

the last of the Deptford 5.

And Hobbit, if he counts.

- [George] Deptford 5?

Terry, Dobby, you can all come out now!

Do I look like the kind of mug

that's gonna let you take his money?

- Is that what Lenny Maitland tried to do?

- You what?

- He never ran off with your money.

You made sure of it.

- Yeah.

I see the resemblance now.

Are you trying to avenge your family?

I tell you what, I did kill Lenny.

I bricked your granddad up in the basement

of the Black Horse Hotel.

- Oh, yeah, I remember.

You sent me down to the cellar to change a barrel,

hit me from behind,

next thing I remember, I'm chained to a pipe,

brick after brick going up in front of me.

I begged you for mercy,

but you just...

You stood there and laughed.

- Who are you?

- How many other mateshave you double-crossed

over the years, eh?

What about tonight?

You got any plans?

(gun fires)

(body slumps)

- What have you done, George?

He was one of us!

- Ah, you remember him!

But you don't remember Terry, or Dobby, or Mountain?

- Please, George!

- What?

You want me to think I'm going mad?

Big mistake.

You should've just killed me.

That's what I was gonna do to you.

- Go to hell George.

(intense heartbeats)

(dull thud)

(George shrieks)

(sobbing)

- Tonka, Pat?

No way.

- The last of the Deptford 8.

They'd like a word, George.

- What's happened to my Debbie?

If you've hurt her...

- There is no Debbie.

There's no family.

They never existed.

(gun fires)

(ominous music and voices build)

(George screams)

- [Terry] This is the way he would've wanted to go.

On a job with his mates.

- We said no shooters on this one.

You don't reckon he would've-

- No way, not George.

He wouldn't turn on one of his own.

- He was a true gent, alright.

- We'll take care of your little Debbie, Boss.

- Yeah.

He would've done the same for us.

- He's in a better place now.

(dramatic music builds)

(cursed screams)

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