Original subtitles

What will I do?

Here, Shell.

How big should muff balls be?

I don't know. How big was the muff?

Better put some new ones in it. I don't want it getting holes in.

Oh, come on, Trace.

Chuck some of it out.

We've got the sales coming up soon. We need the space.

No way.

When Daryl went away, I promised I'd keep everything exactly as it was.

Why? He's hardly getting the benefit, is he?

Don't exactly dress for dinner where he is.

But I can't. I've never thrown my husband's stuff out.

No?

I used to do it all the time.

Usually from the 11th floor balcony.

The neighbours got used to seeing Chrissie's wife hunts dangling on their

railing.

But throwing his stuff out is like, I don't know, giving in, admitting

something. Yeah.

It's admitting that men don't have 30 -inch waist forever.

Well, here.

What about this one?

I'm not throwing that.

That's his lucky suit.

Lucky?

Tracey was wearing that when he was pregnant.

You've got 12 years in there.

Yeah, but you heard what the brief said.

It was lucky it wasn't 20.

Now, this can go. I can remember this. The sleeves are too short.

You're not supposed to put your arms in camel coats.

You just hang them on your shoulders.

You know nothing about style, you.

Well, I lived with Chris, remember?

His idea of style ranged from luminous socks to kiss me quick act.

Even when he was nicked, the stocking he was wearing on his head had a dirty

great ladder in it.

No style and no shame.

Bloody hell, I didn't know Daryl was a conjurer.

Here, does he come complete with doves? Only I've never heard them cooing in

there.

He used to wear this for special dues.

Boxing at the Yilton, boxing at the Grosvenor house, and when he used to get

Royal Albert Hall.

What for?

Boxing. Anyway, I'll need this when it comes home.

Why? Is it going to be hosting the Price is Right or something?

Please, trace Chuck, Sammy. Look, we're not going to be buying that much stuff

in the South, so what's the big thing about throwing Daryl's gear at?

No big thing.

It's just a waste having all this hanging here when some poor soul could

getting the benefit of it.

What, you mean like giving it to some prison charity or something?

No, I mean like giving it to me.

I could get a one -day stall down the market, make a few bobs, spend it at the

sales and fill up the wardrobe again.

Oh, I see. That's your idea of recycling, is it?

It's a bloke, Cheryl.

Were you expecting a bloke?

Not expecting.

Just hoping.

Looks a bit dodgy to me.

I'll let him in. Give him a bodgy search.

Mr Desmond Gibbs claims to be a mate of your Daryl's.

What? Oh, yeah.

Big mates, me and Daryl. I was there when he first come in. Showed him the

I did.

He must have mentioned me in his letters.

He must.

Well, he probably did.

He's mentioned quite a few people.

He always said, Desmond, when you get out, you call it Dallin Trace. My Tracey

will always put the kettle on for you.

That's if you're ever in that neck of the woods. You know, you happen to be

passing and you've got the time.

When did you get out? This morning.

God, it's just how Daryl described it. I thought he was having me on, but

really, it's great.

He's really looked after you, Tracy. I knew he was that sort of bloke.

Well, sit down. Stay for a bit. We'll be eating soon.

No, we won't.

We won't be eating for ages.

So if you've got to go, it's OK. We'll understand.

That's all right. I can wait.

I've waited seven years for a decent meal.

Yeah, well, you might be waiting a bit longer. I'm cooking tonight.

Excuse us.

What? What's the matter with you?

I'm sorry. Sorry, Trace, but you're being green again.

I don't mean to sound odd, but the bloke's bad news.

He's got loser written all over him.

Look, don't be nice to him. He'll cling, they always do.

Just slip him a tenner and send him on his way.

But I can't. He's a friend of Daryl's.

How do we know that?

Anyone from Colditz could say that.

And what was he in for, eh?

He could have an obsessional hatred of women.

Of fat women.

Back up me, women.

Look, we don't know what we're letting ourselves in for.

But Daryl wouldn't send someone dangerous or dodgy. Of course he's

He's been banged up for seven years.

If he weren't dodgy when he went in, he's dodgy now.

So in the morning when the screws stormed in, there was no snout and no

bucket. The bucket had been nicked and they'd had their legs crossed all night.

But why did they nick Daryl's bucket?

No, Daryl nicked their bucket. That's the point.

What about the snap?

Well, when they looked, it wasn't there.

Where?

In the bucket.

It's the way he tells them, Tracy.

Funny Daryl didn't say nothing about you popping round.

Oh, well, he couldn't have.

Daryl didn't know nothing about it. No.

I got moved to this open net near Bexhill.

And suddenly my parole came through. I didn't get a chance to tell anybody.

No, look, I have one of these.

Oh, cheers.

Funny you never met my Chris while you was in there.

No, not really, no, because at that time your bloke was on Ewing. I mean, we

didn't mix animals and nutters on Ewing.

Not all of them, of course. I mean, I never met your bloke.

Sounds like you did.

He's a crossbreed. I found him a wharf nutter.

So you didn't get on then?

Oh, we get on better now.

Now I don't see him.

So, what plans do you have?

Plans? Me?

Oh, yeah, yeah, lots of plans, yeah. But first I just want to enjoy being out,

you know.

Feels a bit weird.

I can't really believe I'm out, you know, free to go anywhere I like.

That's right.

It's only half nine, the buses are still running.

You can go anywhere from here.

Epping, Unger. We don't want him walking the streets on his own at this time of

night. Don't we? No, it's Desmond's first night out.

Oh, and a great night it's been, Tracy.

A brilliant meal, lovely company. I couldn't have wished for more.

He's a lucky bloke, Daryl, and one of the best.

You know, it was a privilege to help him through those first long, dark...

Painful days, it really was.

But, well, I'd better be off now, you know. Find a comfy park bench or

something. Park bench?

You can't do that.

He can do what he wants, Tracey. He's a free man now.

Look, the spare room's a bit of a tip, but you're more than welcome to just

in on the city tonight.

Really? Are you sure?

Oh, that's brilliant, Tracy.

My first night out in Daryl's house.

That's... That's the cream, that is.

Right. Well, then, I think I'll turn in now, if you don't mind.

Right, I'll get you a duvet.

Anything else you want?

Cup of hot chocolate?

Nightcap? Early morning alarm call? Oh, a bucket would be nice.

The downstairs loo. Oh, the downstairs loo.

Magic.

Going to bed at half nine.

It's like being in prison.

Good, isn't it? He comes out, so we go in.

Well, does he get a mention in any of Daryl's letters?

No. Still no.

Oh, yeah. He's mentioned in this early one.

What's it say?

It says, played cards with Ron and Desmond.

Just that?

Just that.

Well, they hardly sound as thick as thieves, do they?

Excuse the what's it?

I mean, it doesn't say, played cards with Ron and Desmond.

The bloke that saw me through those first long, dark and painful days.

Well, it wouldn't, would it? Daryl doesn't write like that.

Well, I'm not happy, Trace.

You're going to wake up in the morning and find all your silver cutlery gone.

I ain't got any silver cutlery. All right, all right. Your telly will be

Your toaster. The radio.

Your favourite egg cup.

Something could get nicked.

He won't be able to help himself, Trace. He's a villain.

Oh, he's a friend of Daryl's and Daryl wouldn't think... What's that?

What? That.

It's him.

He's flashing the lights on and off. He's signalling.

To who?

To someone else, you ink.

He's got an accomplice out there. They're just waiting for us two to drop

Nah. You're just jumping to conclusions.

Maybe, Tracy Stubbs.

But the fact is, Desmond is downstairs flashing.

you think you're doing?

Turning the light on and off.

Well, yeah, we can see that, Desmond. But why?

Well, for the past seven years, somebody else has been doing it. You know, every

night, ten o 'clock, lights out, someone else's decision.

But now I'm back in control of the light, I can turn it on and off when I

So, I was doing.

Well, if you wouldn't mind, Desmond, the curtains ain't that thick, and your

flashy might bother our neighbours.

Soaring's used to flashy.

Neighbours. Yeah.

Sorry.

Good night.

Night.

Sorry.

Where is he?

Kitchen.

Anything missing?

Nothing. Except a jug and a plate.

Two plates. He's doing the washing up.

Tracy, have you got anything a bit less slippy?

What? Well, this stuff's too soapy. Look, it says improved formula.

It says that on the bleach as well, and the disinfectant.

I'd have improved everything since I went away.

Oh.

Everything flipped him.

What do you mean, Will?

What's the matter with you? You look terrible. Didn't you sleep?

No, I didn't.

And how did you sleep with a Chigwell flasher down here?

He was at it again at five.

Are you sure there's nothing missing?

Where's your Capo de Monte clan?

Where's me fags?

Where's me fags?

Oh, sorry, Sharon. I tied it up. I put them back in your handbag.

Look, I just want to say something to you both.

Thanks.

I mean, look...

Not just for the mean and the bed, you know, but for something else.

Thanks for trusting me in your own.

I never thought anyone would do that again.

Yeah, well, there you go. Nice for the surprise, isn't it?

Particularly you, Sharon.

Yeah, all right, Des, all right.

Well, I mean, I'm nothing to you. I'm not a mate of your husband or nothing,

know. You didn't have to trust me the way that you have.

She's that sort of person.

I just want to say a special thank you to you, Sharon. Yeah, all right, Des,

don't milk it.

She never could take a compliment.

That's because I don't get much practice.

Good morning, Dorian.

No, it isn't.

I've had a whole day of it.

Only ten o 'clock.

Don't be pedantic, Sharon.

It's awful.

Marcus has injured himself.

What, burnt his hand cooking someone else's books?

No, it's one of those injuries that businessmen get.

Oh.

Trapped his thumb in a file of facts.

No, he sprained his wrist playing squash with a client.

So you deal with a racket, doll? Sharon. Sorry.

Well, the fool can't drive his car, so I have had to drive him all the way into

town and then bring him all the way back.

And now he's... sitting around the house wanting things done for him. Oh, God, I

hate invalids. They're pathetic.

Good job you've got someone else to do the athletics with, then.

Yes, well, this is the problem.

Greg is supposed to be ringing, but now I have Marcus reclining by the phone,

groaning. And Greg would prefer to hear you groaning.

Sharon, please.

So Greg's the airline pilot, is he? Pilot?

Did I say pilot?

No. Airline personnel.

Oh, he's a steward!

There is nothing wrong with stewards. They can be very attentive.

The money is good.

You see the world.

You just have to pretend to be gay, that's all.

Ew.

You'd better not let Tracey catch her.

You know what she thinks about you having extramarital nookie over her

Well, she shouldn't. I mean, over the phone, it has to be safe sex.

Hang on a minute.

This is an uncle call, isn't it? Of course.

Well, Europe.

What part of Europe?

Tunisia.

Job interviews and that.

All right, door.

Oh, that's neat, Tracy.

Really neat.

I'm sorry.

I seem to have missed an instalment. Oh, Dorian, this is Desmond. He's a friend

of Daryl's. He came out yesterday.

Out?

Out from...? I'm privileged to meet you, Dorian. Yeah.

Yes, I'm sure you are.

Des is just getting himself together, then he'll be on his way.

In a couple of days.

A couple of days?

You know, we haven't updated our alarm system in years.

It's... Funny what crosses one's mind, isn't it?

I'll just go and get on with those gardening jobs, shall I? Yeah, thanks,

couple of days.

Are you totally off your trolley? Well, he needs to find his feet.

Tell him they're on the end of his legs, then get him to use them.

Look, you heard what he said. It's important that people start trusting

he is a friend of Daryl's. I just want to make him feel at home.

What are you going to do? Paint bars on the windows?

And what's all this with him in Daryl's clothes?

Having someone walking around in your husband's things? How sick that is.

Maybe he's going to find himself a job. He's going to need some decent clothes.

Tracy is going to need a body transplant.

Everything he touches ends up in little pieces.

Now, that's not fair.

Tracy.

Yes, madam. Thank you.

Yeah, thank you very much.

I like that.

Yeah.

Oh, yes, madam.

It's about a job.

Which job? You got two?

I'll have them both.

No, no, no. It's the one I saw in the paper.

Yeah, this week's, yeah. The one with Nelson Mandela on the front and a story

about a whippet who found his way back home from Folkestone.

God, it's painful.

I know. I couldn't watch.

He's only calling the receptionist, madam.

She's probably a 16 -year -old on a YTS scheme.

He was still having trouble with the push -button numbers when I was there.

He's... He's... He's shot, Trace.

He's knackered.

He's had it.

Just don't get involved.

I told you. Flip him a tenner and send him on his way.

But I can't, Sal.

We've got to help him.

Tracey, some people are beyond help.

And Des is one of them.

Look, he's bad news. He's a loser.

Why can't you see it? Oh, you ain't still worried about him nicking things.

Oh, no, no.

I realise now anything he tried to nick, he'd break before he got to the front

door.

It's his confidence shell.

It's shattered.

Just like everything else in this house.

Forget it, Trace.

He's unemployable.

U -N -E -M -P... Yeah, all right, all right.

No -one wants to know an ex -con, do they?

Is this how it'll be for Daryl when he gets out? Everyone turning their back on

him? Don't be dull.

I keep looking at Des and seeing Daryl.

Well, if you will dress him in Daryl's clothes.

Is this what prison does to you?

Strips you of your ambition, your confidence, your hope?

Not everybody.

It affects different people, different ways.

I mean, think back to the old place.

Remember Straight Dave?

Prison didn't change him.

And what about Rick the Dip?

It didn't affect him.

He still kept on doing it.

And what about my Chris?

He was a plonker when he went in, and he'll still be a plonker when he gets

back.

Are you sure he knows what bulbs are?

Hello?

What's this, Crime Watch?

Listen, you two, I need your help.

Greg is flying in tomorrow.

Now, we're booked in at the hotel at the airport for an afternoon of high -speed

blitz. Then he flies off to Greece.

I thought you said he was a steward.

Sounds more like an airborne rabbit.

Ain't he ever affected by jet lag?

Yes, but it only affects his head. I don't notice it.

But I am in a jam.

Marcus. is warming to the role of helpless cripple. He's on the lemon

water now. But if he feels better tomorrow, then he wants me to drive him

important lodge to Embrighton. Now, what am I going to do?

Frit?

Don't you realise a fit young man will be prying, ready for action in a hotel

room, while I am pootling round the M25 with a man who can't even light his own

cigarette?

How am I going to get out of it?

Yeah, Dore, what Marcus needs is a chauffeur. Yeah.

Someone's driving around till his arm gets better.

Yes, but... Sean, you cannot be serious.

Yeah, turns out he was a wheels man.

A what?

It's a sort of specialist chauffeur.

Oh, come on, Adora.

It'll get Marcus out your way and it'll leave you free to go off with your

steward for a duty -free leg -over.

Yes, why not? I mean, somebody has to help the poor man. After all, he has

his debt to society, hasn't he?

On the other hand, there's... There's a fresh, smooth Tunisian tan reclining on

crisp white sheets.

Agreed. Now just go and persuade Marcus.

Don't think I'm doing this for myself, you know. We know, Dawn.

You're all art.

Well, like Tracy says, he could get the light being showed for the vow. Could

turn into a good little number.

Right.

Then you'll be able to get a place of your own very soon.

Tomorrow, maybe.

Good luck, Desmond.

Drive carefully.

Ah, cheers.

Say aye to Daryl for me. Tell him I'll drop a line as soon as... As soon as you

learn to write, yeah. Come on then, you two.

I've proved them, haven't I?

I've had a visit from an old mate of yours.

Who? Your old mate from the early days.

Desmond.

Desmond? Yeah. He said you told him to pop round.

Desmond Gibbs.

Desmond Gibbs.

Oh, him. That silly prat.

He'll give you enough advice and tips.

Oh, Bennett, if I'd have listened to him, I'd have been sectioned by now, I

you.

And he showed up at our place?

Yeah. Said you told him to pop in when he got out. Cheeky son.

Well, I hope you did the right thing.

Oh, yeah.

I hope you just flipped him a tenner and sent him on his way.

Well... You did send him on his way.

Oh... Oh, come on, Tracey's got loser in all over him.

He's had it. He's knackered. He's shot.

Which is why I wanted to help him.

Tracy, some people are beyond help. Desmond Gibbs is one of them.

Don't be too nice to him. He'll cling. He'll end up frightening all the

neighbours and breaking everything we've got.

But he was in the right state.

Not all gone and that.

Just made me worry about you and how you're bearing up.

You weren't looking at him and seeing me, were you?

Well... Look, Tracy, now, this place, it gets blokes in different ways, right?

I mean, think back to the old gaff. Do you remember Straight Dave?

Prison never bothered him.

Wrecked the dick. Didn't change him. He still kept doing it.

Well, look at Chris.

Prison won't change him.

He was a plonker when he come in, and he'll be a plonker when he gets out.

I'll be.

I'll be all right.

All right.

Yeah.

And Desmond will be all right as well.

We got him a job. Oh, yeah? Yeah. He's Marcus's new chauffeur.

Chris what?

He's a chauffeur for Marcus.

Well, he said he used to drive.

Oh, yeah.

Desmond used to drive, all right. On every job that ever went wrong.

Tracey, Desmond Gibbs was the worst wheels man in the business.

And that's before he lost his bottle.

What do you think, Sharon? Greg likes raunchy high pash.

Raunchy enough?

Medium raunchy.

How about this?

Sophisticated. Cool.

But low -pash.

This, then.

Low -pash.

Handle with care. Could be someone's granny.

This cost 80 guineas an ounce.

Linda Portnoy said so. She smuggled it back from Paris.

No door.

Petticoat lane.

Mickey the Whiff sells that.

His brother prints the labels.

All right.

Medium -raunchy it is, then. I'll just have to do the rest.

Blimey. When the cat's away, the mice go potty.

This has been a small accident.

Well, not that small, actually.

Is Marcus all right?

Yeah, more or less.

What happened?

Well, everything was all right until the police siren went off.

I think I must have panicked.

That's not like me. I've always been great with motors, but, well, I'd have

improved them as well.

They're turbos now.

Can't put your foot down in those.

I tried.

It's a full -scale launch.

Mind you, I blame the lorry myself.

You need better brakes than that if you're carrying drums of inflammable

chemicals.

Had to put a cordon round the old centre of East Grinstead.

I think it might be on the news.

But... We're going to need some help with your husband.

I thought you said he was all right.

Yeah, but he's having a few problems with her necklace.

The what?

Yeah, the hospital only released him because I told him there was someone at

home to look after him.

Oh, very thoughtful, Edmund.

Oh, thank you.

So, if you could open the front door for him.

Looks like he'll have to pass on the pashto.

Stuck up on the lemon barley, Walter.

Greg.

Do you think Mr. Marcus will want me tomorrow?

In fact, Desmond...