All language subtitles for Sam S3 Ep. 4 - Bonfire Night (1080p) (1080p_25fps_H264-128kbit_AAC-engelsk)

You take that side.

I'll take this.

Leave off, will you?

Oh, come on, Guy Fawkes.

Paying me compliments now, is she?

Compliments?

There was only one thing wrong with Guy
Fawkes.

I know.

He tried to blow Parliament.

It weren't that he tried, he didn't bloody
manage it.

Hey, I'm in there, you know.

I know.

I do know.

I blame myself for the way I brought you.

Oh, you're wicked, Jude.

You know that.

And I was going to ask you in for a cup of
tea.

I shall come.

Choose whether I must or not, I shall
come.

Don't start to get out when the bloody
car's moving.

I was about to back up.

Go on, get back to work.

Sarah?

Um... Look, if Ethel rings,
tell her the cheque's on its way.

I promise to look into it for her.

What, George's compensation?

How much?

3,700.

It'll bring her an income in as long as
she doesn't spend it on riotous living.

Been over a year now, they don't rush it,
do they?

Will you be late again?

I'll try not to be.

Can't blame Stan these days, can you?

I'm Works Manager now, you'll have to
blame me.

We've, er, we've a problem or two.

I know.

I get it too, don't I?

Remember what Peter Crossman used to say
about leaving your work at the office?

Oh, and he died of an ulcer.

Well, don't be late tomorrow night,
for Tom's sake.

Bonfire night.

Aye, I know.

I should do, I've been bloody nagged about
it enough.

And now you're forbidden him fireworks?

Because he was careless last year,
and only if I can't come, I'll be there.

I can rely on that, can I?

I've just said, haven't I?

Oh, the washing machine's broken down
again.

Shall I get the man in and ask Sam to have
a look at it?

Sam, you can't ask a Works Manager to man
your washing machine.

The country can't afford it.

They're one of the little stalwarts of the
export trade, Crossmans.

You wouldn't think so to hear Sam talk.

Going down the knick, he says.

They've had a lot of trouble the last few
years.

Now, they're an antiquated board,
Crossmans.

There's only Sam and Murray Snail,
they're under 60.

And they stopped pulling together when
Peter Crossman died.

They're not exactly what
Crossland had in mind

when he talked about the
new managerial classes.

Crossland?

Aye, C.A.R.

Crossland.

Have you not finished reading The Future
of Socialism yet?

Oh, I'm halfway through.

Oh, well, plough on.

He only wrote it in 1956.

If you finish it by the
end of the decade,

you'll be able to tell him
where he went wrong.

I serve on six committees and keep your
shirts in order.

In between running the home and answering
the telephone 20 times a day.

All right, I get the point.

I'd like to read more.

I've always wanted to read more books.

Just you tell me what you'd like to do
with that and I'll be happy to oblige.

Or maybe that lot that
pay your petrol will pay me

a wage and I'll try getting
14 days out of the week.

They get me for free.

Do you know that, the Labour Party?

Right, I said, I'm sorry.

Workers.

What would you class me as?

A worker.

You'd better, mate.

And I don't want any comments from you
either.

Nay, I'm on your side, I am.

I must be.

I'm against him.

All I did was ask her if she'd read a
book.

Books?

You read too many books.

How many pits have they closed while
you've been reading your books?

It's all done by agreement between the
unions and the coal board, Dad.

In whose interest?

Well, it's in the interest of economic
working, isn't it?

I would have thought that was everybody's
interest.

Except for the poor boogers that get
thrown out of work, you mean?

There's plenty of employment round the
country.

Telling us all to up sticks again,
are you?

No.

No, it's rough, I know.

You're on a sticky wicket, aren't you?

Aye.

It's not easy.

They'll rue it, you know.

And there's another lesson to be learned
in all.

When the union walks
hand in glove with the state,

who stands between the
government and the working man?

Answer me that if you can.

You can't, can you?

I know you can't.

So you didn't bother trying.

I shall not listen if you do.

Give me him.

No, you're not having him.

Give me him.

No.

I'll eat you as well.

Shh, quiet.

You're not having him.

You're not having him.

You're not having him.

You're not having him.

Quiet!

Good heavens, it worked.

I'm glad you came.

Sam asked me to let Ethel know the
cheque's on its way.

Cheque?

The compensation for George.

Oh, that.

I don't think I want to be reminded about
that.

Look, you were right not to take it to
court.

I don't mean from Crossman's point of
view.

But the evidence could have
suggested that Grandad's

row with George made
him careless, couldn't it?

Careless of life?

I don't think I was right.

I think I was wrong.

Half marks for trying and a scribble in
the margin do better next time.

There's a chop in here, won't you,
Liz?

Oh?

Up there.

No, Sam, not at work.

We agreed.

Nobody comes here except mornings,
love.

It's not that.

It's... You know what it is.

Sorry.

My fault for letting it start in the first
place, isn't it?

Sam?

What do you want, Billy?

Advice.

What about?

Can you nip in at my place tonight?

A bonfire night tomorrow?

Have a job or two at home?

Well, it's... something
that I really can't wait.

All right, then, Billy, if you say so.

Now, you just play it quiet, will you,
understand?

Fucked chance.

Hey, does that talk to me all right?

Mm.

Sam usually complains that his teeth stick
together.

He reckons I put glue in it.

It's fine.

It's as good as old Marduk used to make,
and there's never been better than that.

Well, thank God something's all right.

What's up?

Oh, bonfire night.

I'm fed up with it already.

And it'll probably rain.

Coming?

Expect so.

Recapture my youth.

Worth recapturing, was it?

Some of it.

Why, it wasn't yours.

Yes, that part of it, perhaps.

Yes, I suppose I ought to know what the
ingredients of a happy childhood are.

A solid marriage, for one thing.

That takes two, doesn't it?

What's up?

Duh.

Just one of those vague feelings that
women seem prone to.

It's the ageing process, I suppose.

Forget it.

You on duty at the hospital this weekend?

No.

Good.

You'll be coming round, then?

Of course.

Some of the time.

Why?

You usually manage to
coax him into a good mood

if you're here when he
gets back from Crossmans.

Sam!

I wasn't aware I did any coaxing.

All the way round, if anything.

How many times have I said I told you so
when he complains about the rat race?

He gets no sympathy from me.

He did it for me, Pat.

Rubbish.

Yes, he did.

Mostly for me, anyway.

He never struck me as being desperate to
keep up with the Joneses.

Oh, come off it, Pat.

If you ever have three
kids, you'll realise you look

to the future more than
somebody who hasn't any.

You work for security, mostly.

Most people do, anyway.

Having kids is another world from yours,
you know.

If you don't believe me, you find yourself
a husband and get cracking.

I'm a career woman, aren't I?

That's what you want, is it?

That's what I seem to have got stuck with,
isn't it?

Morris is coming tonight.

He's coaching Tom, helping him with his
maths.

Old reactionary.

Just as well I won't be here.

You won't?

No.

No, I've got something on tonight.

Can I see you tonight instead of tomorrow?

Why tonight?

Bonfire night tomorrow.

Family.

Kids.

Sam?

I've put the cheques out for you to sign.

There are one or two letters as well.

Thanks, Liz.

Billy Tripp wants to see me tonight.

Oh?

He wants me to come round to his place.

Why?

Well, he'll have good reason.

It's not often he has to see me outside
work.

It's happened before, then?

Once or twice, yeah.

It's works business, though.

I think so, yes.

Well, shouldn't you be seeing him at the
works, then?

I do, usually.

I'd rather you didn't, you see.

See him at home, I mean.

Oh, I see.

You'd rather keep it here, would you?

Across a desk, him on one side,
me on another.

You're old-fashioned, Morris.

Not that you're on your own.

I can remember the colliery manager coming
to see me grandad when I was a lad.

He'd have come at night, so he wasn't
spotted.

If it had got known, me grandad would have
been marked for life.

Though he never sold his own out in his
life.

God, you'd think those days were past,
wouldn't you?

It's the chairman who's old-fashioned,
Sam, not me.

Do we have to wait till he retires to come
up to date, then?

Do you reckon we can afford to wait?

I don't.

That's why I do it my way.

It's what they hired me for, isn't it?

It's worked everybody's satisfaction up to
now.

Theirs and the lads'.

I don't know about this time, though.

It'll be the redundancies he wants to see
me about.

How can you know about that?

Will you keep being quiet until the new
year?

You tell me how it looks.

Don't look at me.

I've said nothing.

I still don't think it need happen.

We've not heard from the Ministry of
Defence yet, have we?

No, but I'm not optimistic.

The cutbacks they made after Suez haven't
reached us yet.

They're nearly as slow as we are,
the government.

We should have done what Jameson said.

Diversify for other industries.

Run complementary production lines with
the marinizing firms.

The chairman voted that one down,
didn't he?

Using Cassie's vote.

Yes, well, apart from Jameson,
there was only me and thee, as they say.

It's time Cassie was back from Australia.

She's two kids at school here, apart
from her responsibilities to this place.

Have you heard from her lately?

Last week.

Nothing about coming back, though.

She'd ordered her brother a car and wanted
me to organise shipment.

God, I better not let Billy know we've
bought Cassie's brother a bloody car.

They're her shares, Sam.

They're doing very reasonably,
too, until this last year.

Has she sold any more?

No.

No, she's still got controlling interest.

I'll be round tonight, by the way.

I'll hang on until you get back.

I'll be late.

We usually go for a jar or two,
you know.

I'll pop me head round the door in the
morning.

See you later, then, eh?

More...

You'll have that typewriter of yours
easing up.

Will you be in tonight, by the way?

I left that address you were asking me
about by the telephone.

Always forget to bring it in somehow.

No, I won't be in this evening.

Oh.

Oh, well, I'll try and remember it
tomorrow.

Or perhaps you could ring me.

Memory like a sieve, haven't I?

You still don't want me to tell anybody
that you're leaving, I suppose?

If you don't mind.

This means I can't go begging for
sympathy?

I'm going to be lost without you,
you know.

They've run out of those bed jackets I
wanted for Ethel.

How long's he been like that?

Oh, an hour or more.

Sleeping beauty.

Hey, he is off, isn't he?

He'll have your card marked after that,
if he isn't.

It'll take a bomb to wake him before he's
ready.

He's not come round first time yet,
any road.

First time?

Aye.

He opens his eyes, looks
round as if he don't think much

of it, and then goes up for
another five minutes or so.

Why don't we pick him
up and shunt him around

to his own far side
while he's still asleep?

He'd know no different.

Yeah, we can't grudge him company.

He doesn't see much of me these days.

You've a soft spot for him, haven't you?

Well, it's what I'm in Parliament for,
I suppose.

Though I've done precious little for him.

I remember George once saying,
round about that first polling day when

they put me in, I wish you'll depend on
me, he said.

I've never lived up to that.

You know what you've lived up to,
and you know you've done your best at all.

I'll go.

Hello, Annie.

Oh, come in.

Come in, love.

It's Tad.

Tad.

I haven't seen you
since that CND sat down

in Trafalgar Square
when they carted Pat off.

I will, er, sit down.

Oh, thanks.

Don't you come back home much?

Well, I've nobody round here now,
Frank.

He's come to see Pat.

Oh, don't worry about him, he's fast
asleep.

I came round the back in case her mother
saw me.

She wouldn't know you, would she?

Well, she might, from the picture on the
back of that book of his that you lent her.

Yeah, the bit underneath gives all the
sordid details, doesn't it?

Who told you I'd lent Ethel your book?

I did.

You rang me up last week, didn't you?

I'm sorry to have involved
you, but you see, I promised

to get a message to Pat,
but she's not on the telephone.

Oh, she is now.

They've put it in for her work.

Look, I'll tell you what, I'll tell her.

Why not be in the brown car tonight at
7 o 'clock and we'll bring her round, OK?

Yeah, I'm sorry about this, but you know
she's like where her mother's concerned.

Well, I'll see you in the brown car at 7.

Bye.

Thanks.

You're going to put Eileen's nose out of
joint, aren't you?

Dressing up to kill like that.

Who is?

You are.

I'd think you were meeting a man if it
wasn't for his spots.

Spots?

Well, the only one you ever pass two words
with, the milkman.

He looks like scarlet fever.

It's time we got a bungalow or something.

How would you like a nice little modern
bungalow?

Seeking to set us apart, are you?

To what?

That's what that old misery next door
would say.

Setting yourselves apart, he'd say.

Proud, he'd say.

Anyway, I thought you were a black shirt.

A what?

A black shirt.

Do you know what a black shirt is?

Yeah, well, I've had them all round here.

Black shirts, red shirts, brown shirts.

They're all the same to me.

But they've all got dirty underwear.

Show me your knickers.

I most certainly will not.

No, well, I don't care so long as you
don't have an accident.

You can call it hypocrisy if you like,
but it's how I was brought up.

Cleanliness is next to godliness,
in case you didn't know.

Ready?

Just about.

Where you off to, then?

Cherry cake, isn't it, Frank?

Aye.

Ooh, they say it's very expensive there.

Nice, but expensive.

Course, I've never been myself.

Well... Don't wait
up for me, eh?

I'll not, I promise you.

Night, love.

Enjoy yourselves, then.

Goodnight, Ethel.

Night.

Oh, the tangled web we weave.

Why didn't it cross my mind?

She'll wonder why we're not taking her.

It's her birthday tomorrow.

Oh, she'll not think that.

She will, you know.

And she knows I'm coddling her about
something.

She'll be quizzing you sooner or later.

I'm... I'm sorry I got you involved.

I was trying to protect her with a lie and
I've ended up hurting her.

Don't look now, but the curtain moved at
number six.

Somebody else is feeling deprived.

What was it they said they spent when they
went out that time?

£2.10 for a meal for the pair of them?

That's seven and sixpence less than my
bloody pension.

We were born too soon, Polly.

But at the wrong time.

We were born too soon.

What are you doing?

Maths.

I didn't know you'd got to that stage.

Mum's back tomorrow.

You'll be there, won't you?

You mean, will your fireworks be there,
don't you?

Will they?

You should have behaved yourself last
year.

Where did you say you were going?

Billy's trips.

For long?

Well, we'll have a jar or two.

Morris is coming, you know.

Well, what's fresh about that?

You don't need protecting from Morris,
do you?

I wouldn't worry you much if I did,
would it?

Tom, love, my jacket's on my bed.

Fetch it for me, will you?

I'm a bit cold.

And wash that ink off your fingers,
hmm?

It's a leaky pen.

I hoped you'd be in when Morris came.

He, er, he doesn't, does he?

Doesn't what?

Well, you know, bother you.

Oh, you're joking, aren't you?

Well, you said it, not me.

Said what?

Well, you asked me to be here when he
came.

Oh, don't be stupid.

You know why it's about this...

It's about this other school for Tom.

Now, look, Sarah, we've been through all
this before.

I can't afford it.

Morris should know that better than
anybody.

He's the bloody company secretary.

He knows I don't get that kind of money.

And even if I did... There's
no problem with the money.

No problem?

I've had a letter from David.

He says he'll pay half the fees.

You've written to David?

Well, it seemed to me old Tom something.

After all, he brought him into the world.

Why didn't you tell me you'd written to
him?

My God, you women!

You cling on, don't you?

Grained in your flesh and blood.

The fruit of the womb we used to read in
Sunday school.

I didn't know what it meant then.

By God, I know what it means now.

What's grinding at you, Sarah?

What are you riding me for?

Have I not cared for him then?

The fruit of your womb, David's flesh and
blood.

Have I not cared for him as if he was one
of me own?

Yes.

Do I have a say in this?

Oh, Sam.

Yes, I know, Sarah.

Of course you have.

You and bloody Morris cooking it up
between you.

We haven't cooked anything up.

I wrote to David.

Morris doesn't even know I've heard from
him.

Doing the right thing hasn't worked for
you, has it, Sam?

The right thing?

What's the right thing, Sarah?

Sacrificing yourself on the altar of
domesticity, or you thought it was at the time.

Oh, don't let's go into that again,
for God's sake.

It's true though, isn't it?

You married me because
you thought you'd taken

advantage of me and because
I was broke and miserable.

You've got a thing about women on their
knees, haven't you, Sam?

I knew that even then.

I can remember trying to pretend I was fine
and independent and not in need of you.

The night you broke the kitchen window.

Remember?

No.

Yes, you do.

Fatal night for you, wasn't it?

I thought you were off for good.

And then at the door you said we'll talk
about the wedding in the morning.

I could have said no then, but I didn't.

I'm sorry about that, Sam.

You're talking rubbish.

No, I'm not.

When I told you Tom wasn't yours,
you only half believed me, didn't you?

You thought you were your father again,
walking out.

All the old clutter we carry about in our
heads that makes us what we are.

Things we do without knowing why.

Because of an old pain buried somewhere.

And we say it in somebody else and it
hurts, but we don't know why.

There's another word for you there,
Sam.

I looked it up the other day.

It's called empathy.

It's the ability to put
yourself in somebody else's

place and know what's
going on in their head.

You think you know all about me,
don't you, Sarah?

Like a good few others.

I meant you, not me.

You're the one that lives with an old
pain, Sam, not me.

I don't think I know all about you.

I don't understand your
objection, though, to Tom going

to a better school because
he's special and he needs it.

And my two aren't special, I suppose.

He has a talent.

He's a special case.

Don't say my two like that.

How do you think they're going to feel
about it?

If they grow up as I hope they'll grow up,
they'll be glad for him, not envious.

We're all different, Sam.

Well, I'll give you one thing,
Sarah.

Your reasons are better than Cassie's.

She just didn't want the inconvenience of
having her kids around.

That's a cruel thing to say and it's not
true, either.

Hard as bloody nails, Cass got,
even before Peter Crossman died.

She's in no great hurry to get back to them
from her brothers in Australia, is she?

Sam, why are you trying to make me fight
you?

I'm not.

Yes, you are.

You just want me to blow up at you,
don't you?

Why, Sam?

Want to leave us, then, do you?

Sam!

Want to go to this school your Uncle
Morris thinks such a lot of, do you?

Yes.

Stupid bugger.

What is it, Billy?

Tapestry.

Well, a couple of square inches of it is.

The rest, bloody canvas.

You've seen them tapestries in the
museums, haven't you?

Yards long, some of them.

You've all been for a lifetime there,
Billy.

History of the working class, boy.

That's the theme.

Too much for one bloody lifetime,
isn't it?

I could do with hobbying meself.

Well, you want to join the Bowls Club
again.

It's time, Billy.

We need more hours in the day.

Time.

We're all on overtime.

It rules us.

I know it does me.

It has to.

I couldn't manage without it.

Still, it's there, the work.

Better that than it shouldn't be.

We live in fear of other days,
my generation.

It's rooted up here.

We'll never be rid of it.

Choose how things change for the better.

An old pain, eh?

You could call it that, I suppose.

They laugh at me, some
of the younger end in the

foundry, going on about
the old days the way I do.

There were bad times, I tell them,
and bad times will come again.

But they won't have it.

They've nothing to set it against,
see?

Well, they could be right, I suppose.

Let's hope so, anyway.

Hey!

For God's sake, shut him up, will you?

Charlie's trying to do his homework up
there.

Hey, he sits next to your boy in school.

Did you know that?

No, no, I didn't.

Aye.

Gee, how do you help him these days?

They do things I never did.

How do you get on, sir?

Well, I don't get much time with Tom.

He's usually in bed when I get back home.

Charlie gets a lot of help from him,
you know.

He does.

Tom's the brightest lad in the class,
Charlie reckons.

Brighter than the blooming teacher,
he says.

Well, what do you want to see me about,
Billy?

I'm not supposed to settle work problems
outside the office.

Neither am I, come to that.

You don't do much entertainment on the
job, then?

Leave that to the sales lads.

Can you offer me a cup of tea,
will you?

I'll put the kettle on if you want one.

No, I'm pulling your leg, Billy.

I'm off out to eat after this.

I suppose you've heard about the
redundancies.

Been going round for a week or two now.

Is it right?

No.

You sure?

I mean, dead sure?

Well, I can't be dead sure, Billy.

Well, I can't scotch the rumour,
then, can I?

We need to diversify, don't we?

Who told you that?

There's a new chap in assembly.

He'll be a sharp steward after the next
ballot, I shouldn't wonder.

On the committee.

He knows his stuff.

You were side of it as well as mine.

My side?

Well, the board, you know.

Economics and so on.

Finance.

I never paid much attention to that side
of things.

Nor me, apart from Costi.

Look, suppose I said that there's a 90%
chance that we'll diversify.

And there'll be no redundancies?

No redundancies.

Or a 90% chance there'll be no
redundancies.

You're sticking my neck out.

So am I.

90% is worth.

It can wait for a bit, can't it?

There's only 40 shopping days to
Christmas.

They'll be spending their bonuses already
in their heads.

They're worried.

You've had it all but you, sometimes in
your life, haven't you?

Aye.

I know what it's like to have the wind up.

Hey!

Bloody hell!

You'll have to make it into a holy picture
now, Billy.

Aye, well, I'll tell the lads it'll be all
right then.

There's a 10% doubt there.

I'll put that to your credit.

You've got me worried now.

Well, I'd chance it with nobody else.

You sure you don't want a cup of tea?

No.

I'll be drinking champagne tonight,
Billy.

You're pulling my leg again, aren't you?

Happen.

So Tom helps your lad at school,
does he?

Oh, aye.

Yeah, I was bucked when I first heard he
was going to the same school.

May wouldn't believe it at first.

She thought he'd have sent her to the
Grammar like a lot do round that way.

No, it bucked me, did that.

Well, it puts us on a good footing,
boy, doesn't it?

Pity he's leaving, though.

I mean, why do you change your mind,
like?

Don't you reckon that school's any good?

Who told you Tom was leaving?

Well, Charlie did.

He told Charlie he was leaving because he
wanted him to.

Expecting me, were you?

There's half a dozen tin tacks in here.

What's that for sale notice doing outside?

It's supposed to indicate to passers-by
that this desirable residence is for sale.

Why is it for sale?

If you had to clean it, you'd know why.

I'm a working woman.

I can't live in a place this size,
just me.

I'd have sold it after my parents died if
I'd had anywhere else to go.

Where are you going now?

Oh, I shall find somewhere.

I have to wait till I'm sure I can sell
this first, haven't I?

I'm ready if you are.

We should have stopped in tonight.

And I insisted on going out.

Spoilt sport, aren't I?

Sit down.

We'll be late.

I'm a good secretary, I book the table.

Sit down, I said.

You think I'm just after sport,
do you?

Well, do you?

Perhaps not.

Perhaps not?

What's that supposed to mean?

Well, sport's part of it, let's face it.

I'm not complaining.

In a way, I wish that's all it was.

Makes it easier to find a replacement,
doesn't it?

For me?

For me to find a replacement?

Is that what you mean?

For both of us.

Well, if it's not just sport, what else is
it then?

For me, you mean?

We can take you first, if you like.

You're the kind of man...

the man I'd like to have married.

The fact that you're married already.

I was always dead against women who do
what I'm doing.

I don't seem to have practised what I've
preached, do I?

Well, you're not the first, are you?

No.

But what sort of a world would it be if we
all said one thing and did another?

Ah, but we don't think of that,
do we?

The world.

We think we're all special cases.

Nobody feels as we do.

Nobody's got our problems.

We think we're all unique, don't we?

I suppose, in a way, we are.

You're an anarchist, do you know that?

Am I?

Thank you.

It's nice to know what I am.

What you think I am.

Sam.

We'll be late.

I've made it worse, haven't I?

Not better, as I wanted.

What?

What have you made worse?

Your life.

It's a hobby, isn't it?

Eh?

Politics.

It's a hobby.

Well, for some it is.

They enjoy it.

You can tell.

They'd not do it if they didn't.

I mean, every single one of
them that stands up knows

that half the population
could tell him to drop dead.

Half that doesn't agree with him,
I mean.

I wouldn't like to think that half them I
knew thought that about me.

How do you know they don't?

Did you used to enjoy it?

Standing up, making speeches, I mean.

No, I did not.

Neither do most of them.

They do it for what they believe in.

What did you believe in?

I believed that folks
deserved from life as much

as they were willing
and able to put into it.

I wanted a fair society.

That's what I wanted.

That's what our Pat wants, I think.

She wants us all to be equal, she says.

Equal, does she?

She's a dumb sight farther from getting
what she wants an eye on, then.

Oh, I don't see the difference,
meself.

We're all equal in the sight of God.

By the living daylights.

I wouldn't have thought that up.

Why shouldn't we be?

It's a benefit to us, is it?

Well, it will be, won't it?

When the last call comes.

When us vile bodies are changed and so on
and so forth.

By the living daylights.

Well, what's wrong with it as a thought?

As a thought?

Yes, as a thought.

What's wrong with it?

Well, it takes us minds off things as they
are, I'll give you that.

Things as they are?

In what respect?

In respect of you and me, for one thing.

Would you say as we were equal?

Well... Yes, I would,
as a matter of fact.

I mean, we live in the same sort of house,
don't we?

I've got more to manage on than you have,
well, I will have, than you.

On account of George's
compensation, but... Yes.

Well, there's not that much between us.

Oh, say not about you as again me.

I meant you and me as compared to others.

We were both born equal, I'll grant you
that.

We were both born as ugly as sin.

I never met anybody who could put that
right.

Remember old Maxwell?

Maxwell?

Yes, Maxwell's farm this was.

They used to milk cows in here.

Can you smell cow clap?

Don't be revolting.

Well, nature's not revolting.

What?

Now, we used to come
and pinch tonjis from the field

at the bottom of the hill
outside that window there.

And that's all we'd eat in a day
sometimes.

Tonjis.

Tonjis?

Turnips.

You remember old Maxwell, don't you?

Big red face, white hair, carried a stick.

Used to wave at us and call us bloody
black puddings.

It's before my time.

You seem to forget I'm ten years younger
than you are.

I don't forget, you won't let me.

Look, it's...

Thank you.

That was meant as a simple statement of
fact, not something for you to brood over.

I only remember because I know that you
and Sam are about the same age.

Have you ever told Sam that we know each
other?

No.

I don't know why, I tell him most things.

I almost told him once after we first met
in London.

I don't know why I didn't.

Well, he'll likely not remember me anyway.

Oh, he'll remember you.

He's one foot firmly in the past,
Sam.

He's my generation after.

Why is that?

Well, change, I suppose.

You know, born and brought up in the 30s,
hungry and half-educated.

Landed in a wall, we learned
to like poetry and listened

to the London Symphony
Orchestra and Dame Myra Hess.

Discharged at the end of it with no school
certs to help us into the promised land.

And a lot of half-digested
political ideas that we'd

been fed by the army
education corps enthusiasts.

And now we are in never, never had it so
good land.

Well, what comes next, Josephine?

You've done all right.

You reckon?

A successful novel.

Yeah, by whose standards?

Yours?

It wasn't bad.

Thank you.

They've made it into a film, haven't they?

There's another one on the way,
isn't there?

Yeah, more or less.

What's it about?

What do you think it's about?

Me?

Yeah, in a way.

Helps you, does it?

To write about me.

It doesn't get it out of your system,
does it?

Well, no, not really.

I mean, it's more of an escape.

From me?

Well, from life, I suppose.

Well, maybe not escape.

I mean...

Well, it hurts when I write it.

Good?

Sadist.

Would you like to order now, sir?

No.

Well, why should you escape when I can't?

Looking down a bloody microscope doesn't
help, you know.

I do know.

But more to write.

You use me to write.

That's what writers do, don't they?

They use people.

Well, in a way.

But not you.

In that way, not you.

What's so different about me?

I love you.

Shut up.

Oh, well, shut up.

You're a turncoat.

Am I?

At least I know what I believe in.

I've not turned my back on that.

Politics.

Oh, yes, that's all life, isn't it?

The sum total of the human condition can
be deciphered from the brain of any

political or contemporary left-wing
politician.

Look, you're weak.

You let go because it's too uncomfortable
to hold on.

The other way round, as a matter of fact,
but you wouldn't understand that.

Which means we're not supposed to talk
about it.

Well, you might at least try to defend
yourself.

I can't.

Not against you.

That's great, that is.

It's like being asked to kick a jelly.

Oh, well.

Had any affairs lately?

Shut up.

I have.

I have the milkman twice a week.

He's spotty.

Mum says he looks like scarlet fever.

Why is it chickenpox?

You shouldn't have come.

I've learned to live my life for what I
believe in.

I don't need you.

I don't need you.

I don't need...

We need more discipline in schools.

Oh, no, no.

You're old-fashioned, Maurice.

You're out of date.

Look, Tadcaster Grammar School Governor's
proposed the first comprehensive in the

West, in Tories, to a man, as far as I
know.

1944, that was.

It was a fact by 1955.

Yes, yes, yes, and it's a damn good school
and it works.

This we've got here doesn't.

And parents who can pay are sending their
kids to the direct grant schools.

Ah, if there weren't
any direct grant schools,

they may be pitching
and make this one work.

Parents' pressure, that's all it needs.

And a new headmaster.

Maybe.

Look, the parents who care are in the
minority.

They don't get listened to.

They should shout louder, but they don't.

And they come up against
the solid indifference of

the apathetic majority
and they say, to hell with it.

And they opt, and they opt out of the
system.

And I don't blame them.

They defend their right to opt out to
anybody, including you, Frank.

Look, the school hasn't worked as well as
it could have, I'll grant you.

But there's absolutely no reason why it
shouldn't, given the necessary changes.

And how long will that take?

A couple of years, obviously.

What happens to Tom in the meantime?

He suffers because of our failure to make
the thing work.

How many of your fellow MPs send their
kids to public schools, Frank?

A fair number.

You may as well admit it.

Aye, in urban areas mostly.

Now that's where the real problems are.

I'm at a disadvantage.

I don't have kids.

You can't make them suffer for what you
believe in, you mean.

Morris.

I'm sorry.

I don't understand him.

Well, I do.

He was a late developer, Sam.

If there'd been no 11-plus in a comprehensive
system, he'd have had an education.

University, probably.

He was bright enough, except...

Except what?

Well, he was affected by his father going
off, and then Dora dying.

Spent all his time gazing out the window.

I could never get him to concentrate.

Well, he's done all right.

What's wrong with him?

He shares your husband's peculiar ideas
about the educational system.

That's all.

His grandad Toby wanted to pay for him to
go to grammar, but Dad wouldn't have it.

I didn't know that.

Well, it doesn't solve the problem anyway,
does it?

What does he think now?

Does he think he was right?

Dad?

I don't know.

After all, like Eileen says, Sam's done
all right, hasn't he?

By whose standards?

By any standards, I'd have thought.

Look at the way he works.

Yes, the way he works.

I've finished.

Off to bed, then.

Bath first, hmm?

Good night.

Good night, love.

Good night, Tom.

And what does he want?

What does he want, Morris?

You know, the one he talks to?

Well, he knows not a damn bit of use
talking to Sam and me.

Because when it comes
to politics and high moral

principles and so on and so
forth, I'm way down the league.

We don't have discussions in this house,
we have lectures.

He's just trying to prove something,
that's all.

To prove something?

What?

I don't know.

It's just something I've always felt about
him, that's all.

Oh, we don't want that on, do we?

Don't we?

Do you?

I might like to be asked.

You want it on, do you?

No.

You're just being awkward.

You've got a book I've been told I should
read.

That young lad that went to school where
our Sam wrote it, they tell me.

It was at that school he got him into
after his mother died.

And this lad was here.

He'd come from round here, his
dad worked at Scullers and Mine,

he was killed in the fall and
his mistress died soon after.

What was his name?

That's him, that's the one.

About this place, innit?

Well, some says it is.

It's not like any place I've ever lived
in.

You should read it, it'll open your eyes.

About what?

It's suggestive.

Go on, what's it suggesting?

You know what I mean.

You mean it's mucky.

Read it and find out.

I wouldn't have thought she'd have gone
out with a chap like that.

Met him in London, I suppose.

Who did?

A chap that writes mucky books.

What's going out with him?

Our pot, didn't she?

Cheer up, Liz.

I'm all right.

You're the one who's supposed to sweat,
aren't you?

Caught red-handed out with your bit of
stuff.

Liz.

I'm sorry.

I feel a bit... well, you know.

I don't give a damn.

Yes, you do.

I don't.

Why did you ask to see me tonight instead
of tomorrow, then?

I said, didn't I?

It's bonfire night tomorrow.

I told young Tom he couldn't have
fireworks unless I was there.

He thinks I'll not be, but I've got to be,
haven't I?

We can't just sit here passing glances all
night, can we?

There's an old friend of yours over there.

Why don't you come and join us?

Have you got to the mucky bit yet?

It divides society, Maurice, and it starts
with education.

Until that's right, nothing else can be.

Frank, Frank, Frank, what do you want?

Equality or equality of opportunity?

Well, one leads to the other, doesn't it?

I'd better see if Tom's got a towel.

You're a great help, aren't you?

Who, me?

Both of you.

She didn't ask you to set the world to
right.

She just wanted advice about one little
lad.

Now, what about all the other little lads?

Would you say that if he was yours?

I hope I would, yes.

You think Sam's right, then?

No.

Yes, I do.

Well, I think you're both wrong.

You've got the answer, have you?

Oh, I've got more than one answer.

I've got two.

I think you're right in the long run.

But I think he's right now.

You can't have it like that, love.

Maurice?

He's not there.

Or his bedroom.

He's not in the house.

Tom?

That orphanage we went to when we were
kids.

Like a jail.

Bars on some of the windows.

Dad slept in dormitory B, didn't you?

If you stood on your bed and you looked out
the window, you looked down on the house.

We used to watch them, didn't we?

The kids and their mother and father.

In the winter, when the lights were on.

A family living in a house.

I, er... I went past
there a year or two ago.

I stood in the street.

And I looked across at the doorway where I
said goodbye to my gran.

Homesick, before she left me.

I stood there looking at me and my gran.

And I wanted to say, It's alright,
don't feel sick.

Look, you're here now.

You're alright, aren't you?

Everything passes in time.

It's rough on you when you're young.

Making sense of a grown-up's world.