Original subtitles

What will I do when you are far

away and I am blue?

What will I do when I'm alone

with only dreams?

Oh, come on, Sharon.

How about a movie?

Forget it, daughter. I can't keep my eyes open.

Disco?

You are kidding.

I'm knackered. I've been on my feet all day.

The idea of a disco is torture.

A nightmare with flashing lights.

Night bar?

Not again.

Brathband recital in the park.

Open day at the community health centre.

Last night of the British badminton championships.

Oh, God, I'm bored.

But I'm not.

I'm sitting here till I've got enough strength to crawl in there and lie down.

Besides, I thought you had a standard cure for boredom. Two blokes three times

day.

I do have other needs to satisfy, you know.

All the shops are closed, or... I just need something more ongoing.

Something to get my teeth into.

Yeah, two blokes three times a day.

There is more to me than sex, you know.

Now, that I didn't know.

No, you wouldn't understand.

You don't have time on your hands.

I just need some kind of project.

Well, going down the wine bar ain't going to solve it, is it?

The only project you're likely to get into down there is how to pry some young

bloke out of his leather trousers.

Look at the time.

Garfield's still not back.

It was only seven o 'clock.

Yeah, but he went out yesterday.

He's been out all night.

Bit of a rest trace.

So he's found a bird with a place of her own.

He's 19.

He's normal.

Of course he's going to be out all night.

Yeah, but who is this Linda? I haven't even met her.

So my son's sleeping with someone I don't even know.

Relax, Trace. My husband did it for years.

I mean, do they know what they're doing?

Oh, I'm quite sure they do.

Of course they do.

I mean, it's not as if he ain't been with a bird before, is it? Well, not all

night he hasn't. And I mean, are they taking precaution?

I mean, if you're going to wade in the water... You've got to wear your

yes.

I'm sure you, Trace...

be all right if I was trusted him before?

And it looks as if he's in good hands to us.

Eh?

You mean you've seen her?

Well, thank you, the Chigwell Tribune.

Thank you, Dorian the Grass Green.

So why the big secret?

There's no big secret.

We just happened to bump into him in the wine bar and we didn't bother to

mention it, did we? Well, that's right.

We agreed not to.

So it was a secret?

No! Well, not really.

Oh, I need all this when I get home from work, don't I? We just thought we

wouldn't say anything in case you... What was the phrase? In case you went

one. You know, on account of the age difference.

I give up.

Age difference?

Why, how old is she?

Well, how old?

Well, not that old. I mean, she didn't have a Zimmer or nothing.

Old or anything.

So, how old?

Well, she must have been your age at least.

Well, that's not old.

Well, it is if you're Garthy.

I never thought I'd see it. My Garthy, somebody's toy boy.

That's really cheap and horrible.

Hmm, what's on telly?

Oh, a documentary about leprosy.

Yes, that'll do.

Anything's better than this.

You've got her into this one. You can talk her out of it.

Look, Tracy, I think you are overreacting.

And this is every young man's fantasy. An older woman, more worldly, more

experienced. Just think what she can teach him.

You dirty cow.

You've joined a what?

A class.

You're already into?

The lower class and the criminal class.

What do you want to join another one for?

No, look, look, look.

They have courses here. Loads of them.

You get on a course, right, and it's worth brownie points later. Know what I

mean? It looks good to the parole board.

So what useful things are you learning?

How to dress yourself?

How to put one foot in front of the other?

Writing. Eh?

I'm on a writing course.

What? A joined -up writing course?

We've got a writer in residence.

Oh, yeah?

What's he banged up for?

EastEnders or Emmerdale Farm?

Look, he comes in two days a week. Look, he is helping me to express my inner

self.

Didn't know you had one.

Oh, well, that's it. Neither did I.

Well, not till I started expressing it.

And this inner self, is it as grubby and shifty as the outer self you've come to

know and despise? There's no talking to you, is there? Knock, knock, knock.

That's you. Cut.

but I am trying to transform myself.

Yes. Well, unless you can transform yourself into something useful, like a

-speed blender, I'm interested.

So how old is she?

30?

40?

50?

No older, surely.

What's she like, wearing well? You know, is she like Joanna Lumley or Felicity

Kendall? Or is she more of a Janet Street porter?

I don't know, do I? I've never met her, but he's stayed over there four nights

in the last three weeks.

Four nights?

Is that all?

Are you putting something in his tea?

It's natural at that age, Tracy.

The heat overcomes him. The blood thickens. The juices are flowing. He's a

man. Sounds more like a Sunday roast.

Look, can't you disapprove or something?

You're joking.

Tracy's every young man's fantasy.

It's his rites of passage.

Every young lad should have an older woman. It ought to be compulsory in your

last year at school.

I remember my older woman.

Oh, really?

You never remembered her before?

Look, look, just read it, please.

I've read it. No, you haven't. You've only read the first bit. That was

thank you very much.

It's filth. Look, it is creative writing, right? It's artistic.

It's filth.

Well...

It's my first attempt.

I know, that's what's worrying.

You can only get filthier. Look, just show it to someone, will you?

Do you want me to get banged up and on? Look, I need a publisher.

You need a therapist.

God, you never do nothing to help me. God, it's not fair. I'm always here to

help you.

Eh?

Well, I am.

I'm always here.

Anyway, you'll be sorry when I've got my name on books.

Your name won't fit on book.

Well, you'll be sorry while I'm collecting prizes for what thing? You

Nobel.

Yeah, no, but I can take your knocking, you know. I can take it. You know why?

Because I am an artist.

Here, have that.

That's a masterpiece. There's plenty more where that comes from.

Not the same for you.

I'm in that house all day.

On my own.

Wandering from room to room.

The house has become a prison.

So how comes you're sitting here every time I get home?

You wouldn't understand.

Suburbia's full of prison.

Women who have everything they've asked for and nothing they need.

Locked inside themselves.

Remember, Sharon, iron bars do not a prison make.

No.

But they done half had to the effect, eh, Dawn?

Oh, pull yourself together.

If you can't be happy with what you got, you deserve to be banged up.

Do what prisoners do when they get bored. Go on a course, learn something.

I know everything.

Oh, sorry, I forgot.

Just, it seems to be working for Chris. Look.

Gone on a writing course.

Was it joined up writing?

Is he using whole words?

Are they words the rest of us would recognise?

No, thank you. I remember when he masqueraded as a poet.

Turned out to be a deceitful rip -off.

Oh, no, this is definitely out of his head.

It's total filth.

Well, maybe just a peep.

Thinking of going out, then?

Might do.

Later.

Oh, yeah?

How much later?

I don't know.

There's some good late -night gigs on.

Don't you mean all -night gigs?

No, I mean late -night movies.

Thanks to the new Robert Altman.

Look, can we talk about it?

All right.

Barry Norman said it marked a departure in the standard Hollywood narrative.

What do you reckon?

You know what I mean. Talk to me about her. What's her name, this older woman?

Her name's Mrs Robinson.

Is that the WhatsApp?

No, that's her name, Linda Robinson.

It's all right, she's divorced, OK?

But what about the age problem?

It's no problem.

Well, what's wrong with girls of your own age?

Mum, girls my age are either so thick that they just want babies and you can't

talk to them, or they're so stoned there's no point in talking to them.

All the rest are so new -age prissy that you're a threat to the environment

every time you fart.

They can't all be like that.

Girls my age think they know everything, and they know nothing.

And another thing, they take ages to put a condom on.

But they're not supposed to wear them, you are.

Well, there you go, Mum.

Told you, they know nothing.

Feeling better now, are we?

This is so expressive.

So raw.

So... So... So bloody filthy.

This is the sexuality of the repressed and the isolated.

The fettered and the chained. I can relate to that.

Yes. Well, fettered and chained used to be a speciality of yours, didn't it?

Filth is what you relate to, Dawn.

Filth. This is primitive man at his most... Well, primitive.

Being Greek was always his excuse.

I'm sure there's a market for this.

I'm sure a lot of bored housewives... I mean, a lot of literary critics would

laugh it up.

Give up. It's like talking to a brick wall. You won't talk to me about her.

I mean, am I being approved or...?

Well, I hardly think I'm the best person to ask.

What point getting in a state, Trace?

It's not like Garfield. He always talks to me. Look, Tracey, take my advice.

No, don't, Trace, don't.

We've heard that before and ended up in a mess.

Besides, she'll say anything she's bored.

Tracey, he is merely expressing his sense of self, defining himself, like

offspring, partly through parental disapproval.

What?

This is youthful revolt.

And if you continue to disapprove, Garth will simply dig his heels in.

He already has.

Well, there you are.

And the more important it seems to you, the more important it will be to Garth.

I hate to admit it, Trace, but she's right.

If you ain't careful, what should have just been a passing fancy could turn

the love of his life.

Disapproval, ain't it?

You're going to have to find another answer.

Well, I still haven't understood the question.

There you go, Dale. Another masterpiece.

Go on, read that.

I've told you. Show me another one of these and I'm putting in a request to be

sectioned. Now, buzz off.

I'm reading the proper writer. Look, Salman Rushdie.

Oh, yeah.

I say, he's great.

How would you know? You've never read nothing of his.

Look, anyone who's on a run is all right with me.

Go on.

Go on, read that.

I've told you.

Burn it.

Nobody's interested.

Ah, well, that's where you're wrong, mate. See?

I got a letter.

Who from?

Outraged officially?

Managed to offend someone before you've even got it to print, have you? No.

It's from the old goer next door to you and Tracy.

Doreen. Dorian. Yeah, that's right.

Want to know what she said?

No. She said, as a novelist myself, right, I recognise that the

repressed sexuality...

of the incarcerated male is still uncharted territory and would

urge you to unlock this Pandora's box.

Hear that, Del? Hi.

Wants me to unlock her Pandora's box.

Is that what Jewish women call it?

You're a walking definition of stupidity, aren't you? You ain't got two

cells to wrap together.

Can't interpret a letter even when it's in English. All right, what does she

mean? She means you should forget it, knock it on the head. No, she don't. No,

she don't. Listen, listen. She says, right, she says, send me all your work

now on, right, and mention me to any other repressed inmates who are working

a similar vein.

Well, she must mean the junkies on the next landing.

But I've got to find out.

I've got a fan. You've got a fan?

Yeah. I'll tell you what you've got, mate. You know those women who like you

talk dirty to them? Oh, yeah. Well, you've got one that likes it all written

down.

Be in my gang, my gang, my gang. Do you want to be in my gang? Oh, yeah. Oh,

Linda, don't tell me you were there and all.

Oh, wrong.

I was the one they carried out in the second half. I pretended to faint. Well,

missed the end.

Oh, I thought they'd take me backstage, didn't I? I thought that's where the

medical room was.

I ended up in an ambulance in the back of the car.

Dorothy.

Linda.

Linda rang this afternoon. We got chatting and I invited her round for a

Have a drink.

Come on. Yeah, come on.

like you're seeing more of her than Garfield.

Now, listen, Tracey, you're not getting in the way, are you?

I mean, he is still getting his leg over.

Well, thank God for that.

Anyway, what's your news? What's happening in there?

She never.

No. Oh, yes, please, Trace, make mine something sweet.

Trace?

Trace?

No, I'll tell her.

And you.

Love you.

Bye.

You'll never guess what.

Guess who's writing to Chris.

CSA asking him to cough up for half the kids in North London.

The Greek Cypriot community wanting him to do another eight years so they can

hang on to the good name they've built up while he's been inside.

Are there any prizes for this?

Dorian. What?

Yeah, she wants him to send all the stuff he's writing to her. Says she's

to read it.

She can't get enough of it, can she?

Feel, feel, feel every waking minute.

But her dreams ain't much better.

Anybody home?

In here.

I assume I'm not interrupting anything important.

You always do.

Well, I've just bought a painting by numbers kit.

My boredom must be peaking.

Problem?

Why are you writing to my husband?

Well, it's a free country.

Unless you happen to be in prison, of course.

Anyway, you never write to him.

Don't mean I want you writing to him.

But I was bored.

Of course you're bored.

You're always bored.

You've been bored more often than the bed of the North Sea.

Besides, you said you never wanted anything to do with a filthy little tow

ever again.

No, you said that.

What's all this about getting it published?

You can't be serious.

Of course I'm not serious.

That's not creative output.

It's the mental equivalent of a fall of soot.

So what's it all about?

All right, I admit it. I couldn't resist it, could I? After all, he did it to me

once.

Oh, I see.

You were getting your revenge.

Winding him up, getting him at it.

Trying to make my husband feel bad.

Well, yeah.

Well, why didn't you say so, George?

How's your drink?

What are you doing here this Saturday morning?

Usual.

Waiting for Linda.

What's she doing?

Usual.

Shopping with Tracy.

Deal, never mind.

It's good they're getting on, isn't it?

Right.

Do you want to talk about it?

Nah.

Nothing to talk about, really.

Well, I mean, it's not private anymore, is it?

You know, you have this image of someone.

Worldly, sexy, mature.

And they've got a past, and, well, that's sort of mysterious and exciting.

And in a way, you want to keep it mysterious.

Special.

You know.

I think so.

I mean...

The last thing you want to find out is that she was a Gary Glitter fan.

Well, it popped me off, I must say.

It's not that exactly. I mean, I used to like Michael Jackson.

That's all right.

As long as he didn't like you.

You mean the novelty's wearing off?

No, of course not. It's nothing to do with novelty.

You mean you ain't the talk of college no more?

Here. Have you heard about Garth and his older woman?

Cor, tell us about it, Garth.

What? There ain't been none of that going on.

Well, I might have mentioned it.

But nobody does wear off, you know.

Yeah, so does the make -up.

Don't women look rough in the morning?

It's great covered in stubble.

You don't wake up next to a flipping hedgehog.

It's not just that, though. It's all the other things.

She calls me Garthy now.

Never used to call me that before.

Seen too much of Tracy.

Yeah, well, they've got a lot in common.

They're quite similar, really.

Hello! We're back!

All right, you two?

Hi, Garthy!

You two took your time, didn't you?

Would have took us longer if we had more money.

Oh, don't get the amp.

I've got you a present.

Yes, but you're your favourite.

Those crappy little pink and white marshmallows covered in coconut.

Oh, there they are.

What? Crappy.

We've got pink women, eh? I thought you were pretty too.

Mmm, pack of wyferance.

Thanks. They're just like the ones I'll get you, aren't they?

Yeah.

I mean, this is the worst part.

The waiting.

Four days ago, I posted it to her. Four days. You don't know what this is doing

to me, Dale.

It's keeping you fit, if nothing else.

Typical. I knew you wouldn't understand.

You don't know what it's like to put your deepest, most personal thoughts

on paper, post them off, and then just wait.

Wait till someone out there gives you a sign.

I'll give you a sign straight off, but you took no notice.

You're just jealous because you've got no talent.

You watch.

One day, I will be a household name.

Yeah, like Sanilav.

In fact, that'd be better, wouldn't it?

Christopher Sanilav. I mean, it sounds Russian, doesn't it? Very commercial,

these Russians. I'd go for that myself.

You're just bitter because you've got no talent, mate.

I mean, I used to be like that.

But now I'm on this writing course, see?

Earning brownie points.

Early parole.

See, because I am educating myself.

And I'm growing.

Up here, see?

The only thing you'll ever grow up in there is mushrooms.

Well, I must be good at this writing, because people are taking me serious.

Well, I never did that before.

Look, this Dory, right? She says, she says, you will see your words in print.

No, no, she promised.

I say, one day, my name will be on everybody's lips.

Theo Doppelopados!

Yes?

Theo Doppelopados!

Of the Horny Pen Club.

Or is it Wet Dreams Anonymous?

What do you know about all this literary silage? Me?

Nothing, sir.

I'm superstitious about writing, me. Yeah, the last thing I wrote was my

statement to the police, and it brought me 12 years' bad luck.

So you're the one who slipped that large brown envelope into the post room the

other day?

Did it as if it contained something normal?

Yeah, well, it's not still there, is it? Of course it's not.

It's on the governor's desk.

Oh, yeah?

God, I didn't know the governor was literary -minded.

Neither did he, till he read your stuff.

This might be category B, old son, but we're a bit fussy what we let through

system. Hey, they're trying to censor me. Hey, they're trying to gag me. Well,

it won't work, because you know why?

You just drive me underground.

That's all right. The general opinion is that's where you came from in the first

place.

You dirty little worm.

Look, I am a writer. Tell them, Del.

Yeah, he's a ritter.

Eh? Well, that's how you spell it.

Look, I am a writer. Anyway, it was that Doreen who put me up to it. I mean, she

was the one who told me to post it to her.

You are a walking cesspit.

You must have a brain like diseased frogspawn upstairs.

What? You mean that... But the governor wants to see me.

Well, he doesn't want to. He just feels he has to.

No, but I mean, I'll still be all right, won't I? I mean, I'll still be on a

course, won't I?

Oh, you'll be on a course of something, I'm sure.

Bromide was mentioned.

Upstairs.

Marks is next door auditing the synagogue's accounts.

My front room looks like a scene from The Piddler on the Roof.

So, off to the cafe, then.

Can I give you a lift?

Well, it gets me out of Chigwell.

You know what they say, Dorian? When you're tired of Chigwell, you're tired

life.

You mean, when you're tired of life, move to Chigwell.

I thought you said Linda.

It's the programme from the Finsbury Park Astoria. She'll give her a laugh.

I'm not sure when I'll be seeing her again.

Eh?

We've got no plans to see each other.

Oh, you haven't fallen out?

No. We agreed we'd still be friends.

Oh, what a shame.

That means it's over, doesn't it?

Well, yes.

Men and women only decide to be friends at the last resort.

What brought that on?

Well, you brought it on.

But I think it was the Y France that finally did it.

Wrong pack of three, Trace.

But I liked her.

We had a lot in common. We were very similar, really.

Not quite.

That's why he was attracted to her in the first place. That was the Freudian

to the whole syndrome.

What?

She means what normal bloke wants to go out for birds just like his mum.

Exactly.

Garth was starting to confuse parental love with his natural bonding instincts.

Bonding instincts?

That's not Freud.

That's David Attenborough.

Well,

I'm gutted. That's all I know.

Oh, it's all part of being a parent, Tracy.

You see, you want to like Garth's girlfriends, but you don't want to like

too much because you know tomorrow they'll be gone. How did you become such

expert in parenthood?

By watching you make a mess of it so often.

These gentlemen knocked next door and got sent round here.

That's Mrs Green.

She's the old one hiding behind all the make -up.

Sorry to bother you, Mrs Green, but the prison authorities have intercepted some

rather dubious material.

It was destined for your address.

Well, some mistake, surely. It must have been this address.

Someone across the road.

Somebody in Tottenham.

Possibly, but we're keen to make sure that no other material has slipped

through. Shall we go next door for a chat?

Next door? Well, I'm afraid it's rather crowded at the moment.

Could you come back tomorrow?

I don't think you've grasped the point, madam.

I have here a warrant to search your premises for obscene material.

There you go, doll.

Taught you way out of that one.