Original subtitles

up the wooden hill to bed with you, my son.

Madam? Right.

What's going on, then?

It's a break -in, Sergeant, according to the Occupy.

Well, I've just had a right one.

Glorified domestic.

After it caught it, it was a break -in.

Who's this?

Queen Charlotte Buildings.

Well, you say it's a domestic.

It is. My version of it. The man insists he's been robbed.

Evidence? A busted door.

Who's that supposed to be? His next -door neighbours, according to him. Oh,

best of luck.

Hey, I mean, do you know what's supposed to be nicked?

One ashtray and one scarf.

Estimated value?

Four pounds, twenty -seven and a half feet.

Get him to judge it. Well, how can I? He's made a complaint.

Well, I can talk to him, make him change his mind.

Talk to him? I've spent over an hour trying to do just that.

I've been trying to talk to this fellow. It's like trying to wrestle with a

goat. Well, what about the suspect?

Eh? The next -door neighbours, remember?

Oh, damn.

They think he's insane.

Pleasure to see you.

I get some milk.

I thought I'd bring you this.

Bring what?

I found it.

Another hallway.

By the table.

It's a button.

Button?

Well, it's not mine. It doesn't belong to me.

So, uh, who does it belong to? Well, I don't know.

People who broke in?

People next door?

Thank you, Mr. Pascoe.

Is what it? A cube?

Mr.

Pascoe, Mr.

Pascoe, please try and concentrate.

This button, is that all you can't see me about?

I wanted to say something last time, but I was a bit too upset.

Yeah, I'm sorry, Mum.

It's all right. I'll see if there's a WPC to take care of the child. Well, Mr

Pascoe... It's all right, I've finished what I was doing.

So, what's his name? Peter.

Oh, it's Peter, is it?

Fifteen minutes will be enough.

More than enough.

Look, Mr Pascoe, we'll just be in here.

You did want to talk to Sergeant Barrett, didn't you?

Yes.

I'll tell you what, I'll leave the door open, all right?

Yes. Come on, Peter.

Thank you. Hello.

So, where's his mother, then?

His mother?

She, um... She'll be back.

Back from where?

What? From work.

Back from visiting where?

She, um... She left, you see.

She left us.

How long has she been gone?

Over a year.

I see.

But she'll be back.

Go on.

Well, mum or no mum, not much wrong with you, is there?

Now, Mr Pascoe.

Yes. I've talked to your next -door neighbours.

Oh, yes. The Abington's. Yes.

But they deny having broken into your flat and stealing your property.

And they would, wouldn't they?

Yes. So, is there anyone else?

Anyone else?

Is there anyone else who you think might have broken into your place?

No. Only them. Well, have you seen anyone? Any strangers hanging around the

flats lately, acting suspiciously? No. Mr Pascoe, would you mind thinking about

it for a moment?

Thinking about what?

Whether or not you've seen anyone.

What time have I got to look? Look, any callers, people knocking at the door,

anybody... Mr Pascoe!

Yes?

Just for once, would you allow me to finish what I started to say?

Yes. Thank you.

Now, Mr. Pascoe, when the fingerprint men get back, I'm going to send one of

them round to your place. Fine. And he'll do some tests on the damaged door.

Good. Then we'll compare any prints that he finds with our own fingerprint

records of known criminals.

What about the Appleton?

Well, what about them? Well, and you're going to take their fingerprint?

I'm afraid we can't do that. Why not? Well, they haven't been charged with

offence.

Why don't we charge them? There isn't enough evidence yet. What about my

evidence? What about the button?

Not enough, is it? Not enough.

Goodness sake.

How do you win?

Miss Barker.

I think it's time. that your son was home.

And in vain.

Mr. Pascoe, have you left your flat unlocked?

No. Then how do you secure a front door?

With a padlock. Ah. Well, as I said, the fingerprint men will... Thank you.

We want to have a look at the damaged lock and the broken items inside your

flat. I swept up.

Sorry? The broken bits. I swept them up and threw them away. Does that matter?

I couldn't think so. Not anymore.

I only with the child.

I didn't want Peter running through broken bits of china and things, and I

believe in keeping the place tidy.

I always have. Why not?

Yes, why not? I mean, when I go to work, when I come back from home, I always

have a bit of a tidy around, don't I?

Thank you, Peter.

It's just that it's very important to keep things tidy.

Only if she comes back, she could come back any minute, and if she found the

flat...

She's not very tidy herself, you see. She laughs at things like that. She

doesn't believe in keeping things in order, keeping things straight.

She laughs at most things.

But that's the way she is.

You can't change people, can you?

You can't expect people to change.

Not as easy as that. No, well, no.

We are what we are. True.

Shall we?

Who looks after your son?

I do.

And, uh...

During the day, while you're at work?

No, a baby minder.

I take him to a baby minder. Not very good, but he does the job.

So you leave home at what time?

That's a good boy.

Seven, why?

To take him to the baby minder and then go on to work?

Yes. And collect him again in the evening?

Of course.

Take him home, give him his tea, put him to bed and then clean the flat?

Yes. What about weekends?

Weekends? You want to go out, enjoy yourself?

All right.

I'm quite happy to stay in. Relatives?

Relatives. Family, then. Someone close that could help. Don't do that. No.

Neighbours, then? Have you got any helpful neighbours? We don't have any

Friends? No.

Well, what about a girlfriend?

A what?

A girl friend.

I happen to be married.

Your wife's been gone a year, Mr Perkins. Oh.

All right, so what's a year?

I'm sorry.

She'll be back.

No wonder she left him.

You found that conversation interesting?

In a way, yes. And that's why you ask those kind of questions?

Well, they're not the kind I would have bothered to ask.

The lad's a nut. He's popping tranquilizers, obsessed with his next

neighbours. And those neighbours are straighter than straight.

He could draw lines with them.

May I?

Eh?

Well, you did ask for assistance.

Well, in getting rid of him, yes.

But Jake doesn't want it.

Well, he's not exactly enthusiastic.

But you are?

Well, let's just say there's slightly more tolerance between me and the

complainant. Come on, Maggie.

No, sir.

Now, get your coat on and go home tomorrow. No, sir.

Look.

One of the problems of this job, and most of the time it is a problem, not an

advantage, is that you get an instinct.

An instinct that comes well in advance sometimes.

You'd agree to that?

Yeah, I'd agree to that. Not intuition, not any of that junk. No, more a kind of

knowledge. Yes.

Without the necessary acquired knowledge.

Yes, that's right.

Sensing things.

Reading things by heart, even if you don't know what you're reading.

They look on someone's face.

The way they move, the things they do.

The way they talk, things they say.

All kinds of... All kinds of ingredients.

But the wrong ones.

Things off -centre.

That can be a very disturbing feeling.

I'd say frightening.

So, what do you think the ingredients add up to in this particular case?

I'm not sure yet.

Trouble?

I think more.

Much more.

stay with it thank you

Oh, here you go. Oh, bye.

I thought it... It what?

What did you do for your birthday, Dad?

Oh, nothing.

Yeah?

You're coming here.

Oh,

well, perhaps I don't want to come here.

Oh, got no option.

When you get to my age... Oh, no, not...

Oh, hello. Two or three -year -old mates again.

Oh, well, I miss them.

They're for you. I bought them both.

How many do you have?

Oh, about three.

Enough. Well, they haven't cost anything.

Only 40 years if I break them every morning.

Oh, my God.

Steve?

Who remembers being in a push chair?

A pushchair?

Yeah, when you were very small.

No. Should I?

I mean, if it's that important, I'll try and do an instant recall for you.

No, I didn't.

Good.

A pushchair?

Yeah, well, I remember being in a pram.

You don't.

Of course I do.

I mean, not a very distinct picture, more like snatches or fragments of a

picture. Oh.

Lots of people have memories like that of childhood, don't you?

Oh.

You're far back from me.

So, how are you, Dad?

Me?

I'm tired.

You know, I've been feeling very tired lately, and... I don't know.

Dizzy.

I'll be off then.

Oh.

Thanks, Dad.

Eh? Oh, you're welcome.

For the goodness.

Keep you fit.

I need that.

Oh. Here you are.

They don't, none of them taste the same, no.

They laugh at me when I tell them that.

But I know it's not the same. What isn't?

You're not laughing at me.

No, I believe you.

It always did.

Are you all right, dear?

Yes.

Just tired, isn't it?

Look, I love my... I'll bring you some croissants next time.

Guess what?

Hmm? What?

Next door.

I think he's got himself another woman.

I was hoping you weren't at work.

Oh, no. I won one path a day in three.

Wasn't a bad gamble then, was it?

So, where's the man?

The man?

Oh,

Sergeant Barrett. Oh, he decided to let me take over.

Why? Not interested enough? Me and my problems not interesting enough? No,

not. I can't prove anything, I suppose.

No. Given up, I expect that's it. No, it's nothing. I mean, he never really

look as if he cared. Mr.

Basko? Yes?

May I please share just one half of this conversation?

Of course.

May I please sit down?

Yes, I'm sorry.

Sergeant Barrett and I had a talk. I see.

And we both agreed that I was better suited to deal with your complaint.

Why?

Because mine is also a one -parent family.

But Peter isn't what the trouble's all about.

Where is he?

So have you proved it?

What? Next door. Are you going to arrest them?

Well, there are still quite a few questions that we have to ask.

What kind of questions?

I mean, the fingerprint man came last night. He did some tests. I watched him.

Things take time.

Everything takes time.

Everything.

Very domesticated.

What?

Nappies as well.

Oh, yes.

Well, I'm used to that.

I always help out even when she's here.

I help out with most things.

She had it made then.

Hmm? A man like you, perfect husband and father.

Oh, yes. I suppose you could say she's got it made.

I said had it made, Mr Pascoe.

You keep using the wrong tense.

The wrong what?

She's been gone a year, remember?

I mean, have you heard from her since?

Not even a phone call, a letter?

Not one word?

Do you have any idea where she might have gone?

Mr. Pascoe, you told Sergeant Barrett that yesterday's incident was not the

first, is that right?

Yes.

Well, what else has happened prior to yesterday?

Just things.

What sort of things?

That.

And they listen.

They listen to everything I say.

They're probably listening now.

But you've no proof of this.

Well, you can't catch people listening, can you?

And then there are the holes.

Holes? Well, then... Here,

hang a bit up.

Hello.

Well, now I'm afraid she isn't alone.

I've got an idea.

Well, who is that, please?

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah.

Don't worry, we'll find it.

We'll let her know at once.

Listening at walls, making holes in walls. That's it.

Shouting abuse at you as you pass their door.

Laughing at me through the door. Playing the radio too loudly at night.

All volumes.

Yes, banging and hammering, building things at all hours of the day and

Putting obscene notes and messages through your letterbox.

Notes and messages which you haven't bothered to keep. Well, I didn't want

things like that hanging around, not with Peter here.

The problem is, Mr Pascoe, that even with proof, these

incidents, they cannot be regarded as criminal offences.

Stupid. Well, I'm afraid it's the law.

What am I supposed to do? Well, you see, it's a lizard's own.

Yes, but the breaking in, the damage to your property, that could be

regarded as a criminal offence.

It could be.

Mr. Pascoe, I have to ask you this.

Have you caused damage to your own property?

Of course. Are you the sole person responsible for this act of damage?

No.

No.

What's your wife's full name?

Maury Pascoe.

No middle name?

No.

How old is she?

Twenty -six, twenty -seven now.

Do you have a recent photograph of her?

Yes. Can I have it, please?

To take away?

Yes, please.

What do you want it for?

I think she might be able to help.

Thank you.

Oh, yes, there is one more favour that you could do for us.

What's that?

Your local GP we may need to talk to.

All right.

So do you think you could write a letter and bring it round to my office perhaps

later today?

A letter?

Yes, giving us your permission to talk to your doctor about anything that might

be, well, confidential.

Fine.

I've got nothing to hide.

What is it, Jane?

I'm sorry.

I really am.

It's your dad.

He's had a stroke.

Stroke?

Yeah.

How serious?

Don't know, sir.

Don't know.

Oh, dear.

God, I should have made him stay.

He's got a will of his own, your dad.

Yes.

Mrs. Paul, here.

Take a seat.

No, it's all right. I don't understand.

Can I see him?

Well, just for a moment.

Please, tell me.

Well, your father's extremely ill.

Terrible haemorrhage.

The hemorrhaging could still be going on, therefore we have to locate it.

And at the moment, I'm afraid it's totally impossible to say what the

will be.

Any pain?

He's completely unconscious. No, I mean when it happened, did he feel pain?

Could he have felt pain when it happened?

None at all.

And you can be sure we're doing everything we can to save his life.

Just a quick look at him for now.

It's a corpse.

Come on.

Blast it.

Water, Mum?

Anything? No, as is.

And he brought me fruit.

Well, so, when does he leave hospital?

When does he go home? Has anyone said?

When someone has a stroke and they survive the first week, the chances

haven't they?

Yeah, yeah, I believe they do.

Then what?

Well, I expect after he's had a good rest, he'll be well enough to come home.

When and if he regains consciousness, he could be permanently disabled, yes?

Yes. Yeah, maybe he'd better not survive.

What?

Maybe he's better off dead.

How can you say that?

You see, the person I saw lying in that hospital bed,

that wasn't my dad.

No.

You wait.

I bet he'll surprise us.

I bet he'll surprise us all.

There's one thing he can always say about Grandad.

He's fit.

Fit at the most of his age.

Do you remember when he had that chest trouble?

Yes. Well, he came bouncing back, didn't he, that time?

There's no reason why he shouldn't do it this time, is there?

No.

I mean, at least he's alive.

I know him.

He'll surprise us all.

When are you going to see him, Stu?

Today.

Good.

I'm going to do what they suggest.

I'm going to carry on with my normal working life.

It's a good idea.

Of course it is.

You'll contact me at any time.

Sure.

OK, I'll keep a handset with me.

It's no trouble.

filthy devil.

You filthy, filthy devil.

Why don't you leave here, you filthy devil?

Yes. Can I help you? Dr. Tyson, sir, to see Detective Inspector Forbes.

Detective Inspector Forbes is out.

Well, is she due back? Well, then I'll wait.

Is it important?

Oh, yes.

Thank you. Follow me.

I figured it's about a father.

No, it's about a patient.

Patient, why?

We just ignore Mr.

Pascoe as best we can.

Oh, yes.

We, uh...

Regard him as what he is, I suppose.

Just a silly man.

And you know nothing about the damage to his door? Only what we've seen.

And as I said to Frank here, there's so many youngsters living in this class.

And full of mischief, most of them.

And as for the

noise he's complained about?

There's bound to be noise.

There's bound to be some noise in a place like this.

It stands to reason. Yes.

Don't you like living here?

Well, we did once.

Yes, we did once, I suppose.

Years ago, before it changed.

Oh, I mean, we've nothing against the foreign people. Don't think that.

And they do provide better shopping hours. Yes, their shops are always open.

But we hope to leave here soon, don't we? Oh, yes.

Been waiting long enough.

To go where?

Oh, sorry.

You said you were leaving soon.

Oh, yes, well... Wellingarden City.

Wellingarden City.

We hope to go to Wellingarden City.

My brother, he works for a firm there. He's been lining up a job for Frank.

Just a sort of...

Semi -retirement job. Yes, and there's a bungalow to go with the job.

Well, it's just a matter of waiting until our time comes.

Be nice, then. Oh, yes.

Be nice and well in Garden City.

Do you have any children?

We have a son.

Just the one son.

Is he married? No.

No, he's not married. He's a fine lad. Oh, yes, he's a fine lad.

Anyway, he's gone away.

Working abroad.

Oh, better opportunities there, you see. More accommodation.

Only he doesn't intend to stay there.

Oh, he'd never stay there.

No.

When we get to Wellingarden City... Oh, yes.

When we get to Wellingarden City, he'll come home.

Who's... Come home and live with us.

We'll have room.

And he's sure to get a job. Oh, bound to.

Mrs.

Pascoe.

Remember her well?

Not really.

We didn't see a lot of her.

And what we did see, we didn't go a lot on.

Well, thanks, anyway.

Glad to have come.

Oh, kids dropping papers again.

Silver little devils.

I was just about to contact you.

Dad?

Yeah, it's all right, Maggie.

He survived it.

Oh, thank God for that.

What kind of survival?

Well, they didn't say any more than just that.

I'd better get out of here. Yeah. Now, what about your visitor? You want me to

send him away?

Visitor?

Inspector Forbes?

Yes. Dr. Tyson.

Dr. John Tyson.

Hello. Thought I'd call, have a chat.

Better than writing a letter, don't you think?

Well, um... Only I haven't a great deal of time left.

No, don't lie.

Brian Pascoe. Yes.

Has been a patient of mine for the past couple of years.

I'm his GP.

You could also say I'm his psychiatric consultant.

In an unofficial way, of course.

How do you mean?

Is something wrong?

Got it.

The hair.

Hair? You've had it curled.

Well, yes.

That's what fooled me at first.

Royal Free Hospital, casualty, about four years ago. Remember?

I remember the Royal Free... One Friday night, about 11 .30. Pop closing time on

a Friday night at the Royal Free. It's like a field dressing station. In a

battle zone, a lot of people, a lot of walking wounded. Exactly.

You came in with a battered head. A what?

Well, you're suspect.

Involved in a pub fight.

I remember that, yes.

Well, I patched him up.

Duty casualty officer.

We had a long chat about the powers of arrest.

Now do you remember?

Sorry,

I don't remember you.

Oh, well.

Anyway, Brian Pascoe.

I'm his GP.

I'm also involved in psychiatric work at a local clinic. Not full -time, I'm not

qualified yet.

I help out as a... Therapy and group work.

Psycho drama, things like that.

And, um, Pascoe attends this clinic?

No, I do.

I was telling you about me.

Brian Pascoe?

Yes.

Well, as his GP, I've prescribed tranquilizers for the man that you

know already.

Yes.

I've avoided giving him sleepers. He has a young child to look after, which he

manages to do very well.

Yes, I agree.

Also, when he comes to see me, I give him a kind of one -to -one therapy.

All official and disguised, of course.

In fact, it's so disguised, he doesn't even know it's going on.

Well, at least I don't think he does.

Anyway, I do it.

That way I can observe and try to help him solve his problem.

Which is?

Acute depression due to the fact that his wife has left him.

To hear him talk, he thinks he's never gone away.

If he wants to convince himself, as he does, that she'll be back at any time,

then fair enough.

Well, no -one gets hurt under that process. Is he paranoid?

Oh, yes.

Dangerous? No, not at all.

Well, that's my interest in the matter.

What's yours?

He came to us with a complaint.

He's convinced that he's being persecuted, that he's a victim of a

harassment, and that he's been driven to an almost suicidal state.

He said that?

About suicide?

No, I'm as...

Assuming that.

He blames the next -door neighbour.

The Appleton? Yes.

You've talked to him? I have, yes.

Don't blame them. Don't blame poor Pascal. Now, though, the Appletons deny

knowledge.

Look, the Appletons are not my patients, but I do know from other sources that

they have an axe to grind.

Or didn't they tell you?

No, I suppose they wouldn't.

Well, it's my belief that the Appletons...

like Pascoe, are what one might call emotional casualties.

More walking wounded, if you like.

They try to avoid the real truth.

So what?

What didn't they tell me?

About their dear, loving son and Mrs Pascoe.

They were having one hell of an affair.

You know, I prefer your hair like that.

The Appleton told me that their son was working abroad.

And they're obviously lying.

Young Appleton's living in Sheffield, has been for the past year.

Living quite happily and sinfully with Maureen Pascoe. When did you last talk

Mr Pascoe?

Yesterday. Well, I tried to ring him at work today, but he hadn't turned up.

The filthy devil he married you didn't he?

He brought you here.

Brought you here to live.

You little bitch!

It's his fault.

Isn't it?

His fault.

Our son's gone.

I was asleep, wasn't I?

I didn't get any sleep last night because of that lot.

So I was sleeping today.

I took a day off work.

Doesn't matter.

I'm sorry it's such a mess.

He won't be able to hear you. I doubt if he'll even be able to see you properly.

No. But he'll probably know you're there.

And at least he's alive.

Something isn't... It's dark.

In a few days' time when you visit, perhaps you could wheel him in a chair

to the recreation room.

Or the sun lounge.

There are flowers and plants there.

And an ornamental pond and fish.

Well, it may not register with him.

But it's worth trying.

Anything's worth trying.

Yes.

Oh, God.

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