All language subtitles for Jonathan Creek - 05x02 - The Sinner and the Sandman.DVDRip-RB58.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

So just to fix it, it's
Dr. Chrissie and Crispin Gilpin.

It's too tricky, I'm sorry.

I'm going to call him
Dr. Crippen, I know I am.

He's a wrestling critic
for Sky Sports.

Played a lot of golf with my dad.

And she's also a very
talented artist.

Working on some big painting for the
church at the moment, I think she said.

So no, they're very nice,
they're very down-to-earth people,

so there's no way you're going
to lower the tone, I promise.

A wrestling critic for Sky.
That's like pointlessness cubed.

Chrissie? Crispin?

Okay to come in?

We're a little bit early.

Hello? Anyone at home?

Very odd.

I might just try her studio, which
I think is out the back somewhere.

I'll be two secs.

Oh, God!
Hang on a second, hang on!

- It's okay, I've got it.
- Right.

What's going on?

Ah, Polly! Yeah, sorry, what's going
on is we've had a break-in!

I just came downstairs, found
these two characters in masks.

Going through the bloody safe.

- It was unbelievable!
- I managed to clobber the pair of them

from behind, got them secured
till the police get here,

but it's like what Chrissie says,

what if there's more of
them waiting in the van?

Dare say they'll take a
minute to get here, but...

How far is the nearest police station,
anyway? It's got to be ten miles.

Oh, not getting a signal.

Oh, bugger.

Jonathan?!
Whatever you do, stay put!

There are two burglars in the
house and they could be...

Oh, good. Well, that's
all under control, then?

We'll just get the sprouts on.

Well, this is shaping up for a really
fun-packed evening, I must say.

- Better check the safe.
- I suppose they've taken everything.

What does Japanese
knotweed look like?

Sorry?

Think I just found some,
down in the wood.

It's absolutely lethal, that stuff,
once it starts to spread.

We may have to get someone in.

What?

No, it's just where I broke my
wrist a couple of years ago.

I think I might've just
set it off again.

Great.

Oh, hi, Chrissie, hi!

Listen, I'm so sorry
about last night.

I don't suppose the police
have managed to...?

No, no.

Not sure, but I can check.

Asking if you've any plans to
spring the Yorkshire Ripper

from jail this morning.

No, no, I think he's
learned his lesson.

Sorry?
What time would that be for?

Oh, no, it's the least we can do!
Yes, definitely!

I can't, sadly, but I'm sure Jonathan
will happily step up to the plate.

Yes. Leave it with me,
Chrissie, and I'll sort it.

Okay. Bye.

What plate is this I'm
stepping up to now?

The volunteer drivers
who ferry people up

to the surgery for
their appointments.

They're a bit short-staffed
this morning,

and there's a patient of hers,
Mr. Ipswich, he's about 150.

Obviously I would if I could, but I've
got the village hall committee at ten

so um, go on, you'll be
rewarded in Heaven.

Mr. Ipswich. Why do I know
I'm going to regret this?

- Morning, Hugh! Are you well?
- Hi!

How's the new arrival, still
keeping you both up all night?

Yes. I'm beginning to see
the appeal of a manger.

You must come round,
both of you, and say hello.

Alison's practically
selling tickets.

Oh, well, put me down for two.

All looking super-duper.

Yes, they've done a marvellous job.

Wonder why Mr. Greeley sounded
so down about it on the phone?

Welcome, everybody.

I think we have a quorum.

If I could start by introducing
my nephew, Warwick,

who's over here from New
Zealand for a few weeks.

He'll be helping us keep
track of our discussions.

Now I'm sure we've all had a chance
to admire the really splendid

efforts of our builders
and design team,

who've worked tirelessly to give
the centre here such a facelift.

Hear, hear.

As you know, this has all been
largely made possible by the

generosity of a local lottery winner

the businessman and chairman of the
Rotary Club, Sir Leonard Corbyn.

His donation to our project
was a handsome one

and in recognition of this it
was decided, unanimously,

to re-dedicate the
building in his honour.

Which presents us
with a slight problem,

as he's just been arrested
and charged with molesting

several senior members of
the Women's Bright Hour.

Warwick?

Yes, details still
coming in on this one,

but it seems to have occurred
at a recent garden party

where his passion for pressing
the flesh got a little out of hand.

Oh, please.

And since that news broke,

more women have come forward with
similar accounts of sexual misconduct,

including a dental
hygienist who claims

that he used to put his
hands in his pockets and

floss himself during treatment,
and also an air stewardess,

who caught him once using the
vomit bag for other purposes.

Yes, well, this, this is...
not a little embarrassing.

Which is why we need to look at
some bold cosmetic adjustments

to repair the damage.
Warwick?

Yes, so another name
now obviously required.

And we were thinking,
why not the Conrad Bloyner Centre?

Sorry, Conrad Bloyner?

Not a gentleman
I'm familiar with.

Well, no, obviously there's no such
person called Conrad Bloyner.

But given that the letters on the
wall out there for "Leonard Corbyn"

have all been individually cast
for us, at considerable cost,

I think it would be somewhat
profligate to just throw them away.

People are rarely bothered
about the provenance of a name,

as long as it's crisp and
memorable. Warwick?

Yes, there are other contenders
you might want to consider.

For example,
the Orlando Crenby Centre.

A possible Eurosceptic, we thought,
in the John Major government.

Or Rodney Claborn,

could have been a local
soccer hero in the 1950s.

Or what about alternative
comedian turned Daily Mail

feature writer Brendan O'Clory?

I mean, I'd buy it.

Yes, look. While I agree there is
a problem here to be addressed,

I'm not sure that inventing local
benefactors with silly names

is quite the way forward, is it?

And if we're talking silly, Mr. Greeley,
I've got a bone to pick with you

about this piece in your
latest parish newsletter.

"Subsidence in the south
transept of the church."

"Could it be linked to my predecessor
turning in his grave?"

If that's meant to be a joke,
it's a rather lame one.

Oh, you know you could
have is Ronan Clodbery,

which would be...

No, no, rubbish, the whole thing.
Completely ridiculous.

No, we've definitely
got to uh... re-think.

Morning! Mr. Ipswich?

You ready?

It's Jonathan!

Mr. Ipswich?

You ready?

It's Jonathan.

Mr. Ipswich?

You all right?

It's Jonathan.

Come to take you
up to the doctor's.

You need any help at all?

Get your hands off.

I've come to drive you
to the doctor's. 12:30.

Oh, I can't be doing with all that.

I've got to go to the doctor's.

They'll be here in a minute
to pick me up.

What a waste of time.

There's nothing wrong with me.

And who are you, anyway?

Right, why don't I leave
you to get ready, and...?

Oh, is this you out here, in your
younger days? Very impressive.

Very similar actually to the kind of
stuff I used to get up to before...

Oh, God.

So what did they say,
the paramedics?

Did they think it
was a stroke, or...?

How serious, we'll have
to wait and see, but...

It will be no hardship getting
out of that house for a while.

Place hasn't seen a lick of
paint since his wife died.

That's got to be 50 years ago.

Be the perfect time now actually,
to try and get in there,

while he's not around and blow
away some of those cobwebs.

Oh, yes!

Now then, what do you think?

Specially commissioned
for the church vestibule

by our very own Dr. Gilpin.

Such a talent. People amaze me.

Yes, think I saw this through
the window in her studio.

And you see what she's done?
Very clever.

All the figures in the crowd,
she's made into local parishioners.

There's Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs,
look, from the butcher's.

And Mrs. Prosser...

Mr. Greeley...

Yours truly, and Hugh.
And, look!

She's even managed to squeeze the
two of you in at the last minute.

How sweet is that?

- Yes, it's, erm...
- Such a cute little twist.

What do you mean?

Giving you pride of place
among the cherubim.

Obviously saw your angelic qualities.

Jonathan, how are you?

- Are you well?
- Yes, I'm good.

- Ow!
- Sorry. I'm so sorry!

No. It's just...
since this morning.

I think I overdid it a bit,
whacking the ketchup bottle.

- No, it's fine.
- Yes.

Shall we, um...?

Oh, isn't he divine?

Well, not literally, of course,

I have to be careful what
I say around here.

And you've got all the toys, look,
and gadgets and paraphernalia.

Oh, gone completely overboard.

What do you expect, I know...

Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Chater,
but there appears to be a man

down there relieving
himself against your hedge.

Oh, yes. He looks as if he's
starting to flag, doesn't he?

Perhaps I'll just pop down,
see if he needs a top-up.

Ah, I feel I must explain.

This chap, who's come to do
some garden work for us,

I happened to mention, we've got
a plague of badgers at the moment,

churning up the lawn every night.

He said the one thing that
deters them, apparently,

is male human urine. So...

What with that and this
other strange creature

that's been seen on the prowl,
yes, it is quite scary.

Strange creature?

Oh, yes, he's a "beast from Hell"

according to
Mr. Stebbings from the corner.

He says he was coming home
from the pub the other night,

and as he passed our house,

he saw this huge, hump-backed
thing crawling across the grass.

Far too big for any dog.
Or a small deer, even.

He says it looked at him
through the bushes for a moment,

with these demonic,
glowing green eyes,

and then... vanished.

One for your collection maybe?

Didn't they say you're a
bit of a mystery-solver?

Wonder if he could help us, your
man, with our Japanese knotweed.

Cos I think we might
have a slight problem.

Oh, no, really? You might want
to keep that one to yourself.

They get so much as a sniff of
anything like that round here,

we'll have a mass
panic on our hands.

And I know someone else
who'll start panicking,

if we don't let him
get his 40 winks.

So, time to leave you
to the Sandman, I think.

Let him work his magic,
and bring you lots of nice dreams.

So that's that, then.

I might as well walk about now with a
large white arrow pointing at my flies.

And painted by a doctor!

What are people going to think, I've got
some unfortunate hormone deficiency.

You see what I mean,
it's very worrying.

- And Ancient Palestine...
- But what do we do about it?

you can't even claim it was a cold day.

I'm sorry, it's just
pure vindictiveness!

Are you listening to me?

Sorry?

Whereabouts?
These look like carrots to me.

They are carrots.

And before you ask me why, my
father would grow carrots in a wood,

he just did.
As long as I can remem...

- What?
- No, I just got that thing again.

That kind of cold shudder
I had in the bedroom.

When he mentioned the Sandman?

Yeah, to do with a dream
I used to have.

Like this nightmare...

...about the Sandman.

Who I know's supposed to be
this friendly old character,

who sprinkles sand in your eyes,
and sends you off to sleep.

In my dream, he's not
a nice person at all.

But this...

...terrifying figure of evil

who calls round your house in
the middle of the night and...

And does what?

I don't know.

I don't know.

It scared me so much, I always wake
up at that point in a cold sweat.

How do we feel about this?
Message from Alison.

She says while he's away in
hospital, old Mr. Ipswich,

she's going to get a little
decorating party together.

Try and make it a
bit more welcoming.

We'd be up for that, won't we?

Suppose so.

10 Rillington Place
would be more welcoming.

Come on, it's what people do.

You're not living in a
windmill any more.

You have to engage
with the community.

Yes, what community would
that be, Twin Peaks?

What happened to that quiet
little haven of rural serenity

we were going to escape to
after a busy day at the office?

I know, I know.

- You going to be long?
- Two secs.

So, how much longer do you reckon?

Cos I'm slightly
going off the boil here.

I know, but very important to stretch
before any physical exercise.

Don't want to get cramp.

It's good for getting the blood
flowing into the tissues.

It's having the opposite
effect on me, I have to say.

And will you stop with that
constant inspection?!

I'll have a quiet word
with her tomorrow.

See if she can put a tiny wisp
of gauze over it or something.

Why a TINY wisp of gauze?
Why do you say that?

No need to be
stingy with the gauze.

Plenty of gauze to go around.

Were you like this as a child?

- Insecure or what?
- Well, I just think...

Oh, this is a joke, surely?

What now?

Latest edition of Mr. Greeley's
parish newsletter!

"Fears of massive Biblical retribution
swept through the village this week,"

"after a local businessman became
embroiled in a sleazy sex scandal."

"The Book of Revelation talks of
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse"

"Death, War, Pestilence and Famine,"

"three of which have
already materialised."

"Death, the sudden passing on Friday
of Mrs. Enid Spackwell, age 94."

"War, the boundary dispute
over who owns the ditch"

"next to the Angler's Arms."

"Pestilence, a plague of badgers near
the church, and more alarming still,"

"the threat of Japanese knotweed
engulfing the village."

"It's stressed there is no
sign yet of any famine,"

"and no reason whatever
to resort to panic buying."

We can guess what the
result of that will be.

How the hell did
he get hold of that?

- That's just creepy.
- Isn't it?

As is the curious account
of that strange wild beast

that was sighted in the vicarage
garden the other night.

But there's no account
of that in here.

That is what is curious.

It's all right, darling,
it's only the Sandman.

It's all right, darling,
it's only the Sandman.

It's just the Sandman.

The Sandman.

It's just the Sandman.

It's just the Sandman.

Morning!

Thanks a lot, cheers.

Oh, hi.
Welcome to the Middle Ages!

Think we just found some more bits of
Richard the Third in the guest bedroom.

I can't be totally sure, but...

Wow, he's going to be in for a
surprise, when he gets back.

Oh, no, he's well aware
what we're up to.

I mean, he was looking
a poor old soul last night,

when I went to visit,
but you know what?

I'm hoping this will give him
a reason to pull through.

So, what do you fancy?

You've got five layers of
wallpaper in this room

we are currently chipping
our way through.

Or if you want to make sense
of all that lumber out there

which is like bills and bank
statements and Christmas cards

dating back 20 years or more.

Yeah, give that a go.
This wrist is still giving me grief.

Can you believe, just from
smacking the sauce out?

How many days ago now?

So, Astrodamus, what was that,

some kind of fortune telling
act he used to do?

- Ringing a slight bell now.
- Apparently the world's worst.

If you read some of those
scrapbooks and cuttings,

talk about him being booed off the
stage every night, it's very sad.

Didn't Jonathan used to be
involved with that sort of, erm...?

Yes, for years.

But then, you know, it's that
thing with creative people.

So easy to get into a rut.

So important to maintain
the stimulation...

As he never tires of telling us.

- How do you mean?
- Well!

I'm broad-minded, Polly,
but there are some things

I don't think you need to keep
sharing with everyone, do you?

What does he call it?

"Whacking the ketchup bottle"
and "smacking the sauce out".

What on earth are you talking about?

I think we get the drift, don't we?

Scattering his seed?

You want me to spell it out?

Oh, look, can we just drop the subject
and pretend I never mentioned it...

Hello?

What's this?

Looks like some writing.

"Will Win."

What will win, I wonder?

Load of numbers.

Must have meant something
once, I suppose, to somebody.

Yes.

- What?
- No.

Oh, no, come on.

Going right off my
trolley now, Alison,

I'm sorry, but I just have to...

How many layers of paper
are we saying here, five?

So we're thinking this writing
has been under there for what,

anything up to 50 years?

Oh, well, no, this is really freaking
me out now, I'm sorry, because...

Because what?

Leonard Corbyn.

Our disgraced local
benefactor at the village hall?

These are his winning
lottery numbers.

I mean, all this stuff, this mind-
reading and astral prediction stuff,

is all just a trick, obviously?

- This is a trick. It has to be.
- I don't know.

Even if there's any way of
faking all that wallpaper,

which, remember, the whole
room's then got to match,

how does he know you're going to
come in here at some vague point

in the future and take it all off?

To have come up with
the exact six numbers?

Decades before it happened.

Would make the Amazing
Astrodamus, AKA Eric Ipswich,

the most impressive
clairvoyant who ever lived.

This small piece of plaster come
off here, between the two words.

Still stuck to the paper maybe?

And that's significant?

Always safe to assume, Mrs. Chater,
there's nothing that's insignificant.

You still got that local
press report there?

Just said the whole thing
was a complete one-off.

"First time ever he'd done the lottery,
just went out and bought a ticket,"

"completely random
numbers on a total whim."

"Said his wife Rebecca, 51,"

" 'it was such a shock, and so
unlike him in the first place.' "

" 'I'm still waiting to come
back down to earth.' "

Ah!

Now...

I think...

Looks like a small cross.

Oh, good!

So that tells us everything, then.

I think I'm ready for a
strong cup of coffee.

And? Does it tell us anything?

Well, depends how you look at it.

Quite literally.

It does at least suggest

one very slender,
possible line of inquiry.

I mean, what on earth do you
think we're looking at then,

some sort of amazingly
elaborate set-up,

designed to just
freak us all out, or...?

Well.

A very calculated deception
is certainly part of it, but...

strangely, I can't help feeling

it has nothing to do with
this writing on the wall.

And now!

By means of collusion

with the celestial forces
that shape our destiny,

I shall make my prediction!

And place it in this envelope,
which I will hand to the lovely Delia.

And, Jessie.

If you would peel
off the cellophane

from that deck of playing
cards, thank you.

Break the seal,
and carefully slide out the pack

and place it on the table.

Cut the pack,

and show the card you have
just chosen to the audience.

No wait, that was...

Please, don't go. Please...!

So he WAS just completely
rubbish, basically. Well...

Anyway, thank you, Mr. Greeley,
for fishing that out.

One of his last ever
performances, sadly.

Just before he gave it all
up to go to work in a bank.

Why all the critics
had to be so cruel.

We all have our off-days.

No doubt this whole affair will
be featuring prominently

in the next edition of
your parish newsletter?

Well... A more astonishing
phenomenon would be hard to imagine,

and when a man of YOUR reputation
is baffled, what else are we to think?

That his powers of clairvoyance

were more remarkable than
anyone gave him credit for?

That now, 40 years after
Astrodamus retired,

we may be witnessing
his finest hour?

Erm... I don't think so. Do you?

Well... time will tell, Mr. Creek.

Remember, not everyone
shares your cynicism.

I think you'll find that round here

most people's minds are
still very much open...

to all sorts of
wondrous possibilities.

Yes, I had noticed.

In the words of Ebenezer
Scrooge, I'll retire to Bedlam.

That's why we call them
your flock, darling,

because they behave like sheep.

- Did you get bread rolls?
- Last two in the shop.

Like a plague of locusts
had been through.

Now, that's awkward.

The rector at St. Mark's
has got whooping cough.

He's asking if I could step in
tonight for their evensong.

Well, how is that going to work
with my hospital visits?

You know Sally and Frida are
both tied up on Mondays.

Where are we going to find a
baby-sitter at this short notice?

So, you know where everything is.

I'd imagine Hugh's going to be
back probably nine at the latest,

and honestly, I don't think
you'll have any trouble,

but you've got both our mobiles.

Yes. Yes.

No, no, if it's any help to you in
your deliberations, be my guest.

I think those will be the parish
records for the period you're after.

Births, deaths and marriages.

I'm amazed they were all
still here, to be honest.

Well, it's definitely
a long shot, but

pre-Google, I wasn't sure
where else to look, so, thanks.

Listen, we can't tell you how
much we appreciate this.

No, no, our pleasure.
And we'll be fine!

Bye, Polly. Bye, Jonathan!
You're an angel!

Fast a-kip up there now, bless him.

Such a shame they have
to grow up, isn't it?

And become people.

You know, I don't know how
you could take offence at this.

It was so tastefully done.

Yes, I was talking to a
woman in the post office

this morning who'd
been in to see it.

She said she particularly liked the way
my penis followed her round the room.

What is it you're looking for in there,
anyway, or am I not allowed to ask?

What's that, marriages you're
on now? From the '60s?

It's the most tenuous
of theories, but

unfortunately it's the
only one I've got.

If I'm wrong, I'm just
going to look like a pillock.

But on the other ha...

hand...

Ah-ah-ah! There you go.

Just goes to show, if you look
long enough and hard enough,

you'll find it.

Hooray! The God particle.

- Watch your language in here.
- Sorry.

Still a long way from
locking it up of course, but

proof at least we could
be on the right track.

Oh, good.

Very obvious to YOUR
eyes, I'm sure, but...

No?

Isn't it funny,
you still can't see it?

- What?
- No, it's... out there.

I thought I saw something.

What WAS that? What did you see?

Too quick. Soon as I got near
it was off through the bushes

and then... I dunno,
into those trees somewhere.

What IS that?

It's like a giant paw print.

Not like any paw print
I've ever seen.

This was made by a human hand.

Oh...

Oh, dear...

Oooh...

Oh, think we might have
a bit of a leak here actually.

Remedial action definitely required.

Oh, of course.

That's exactly it,
what's been going on.

Clear as crystal now.

What is? What have you seen now?

Nothing we didn't see the first
time we came in this room,

only now of course
it's screaming at us.

Yes, well, not the only
thing that's screaming?

Oh, yeah. Sorry.

What an extraordinary thing.

So, what do we think?
The plot just thickens then, basically?

Or not, actually.

If you're in any doubt still about
Mr. Stebbings' "beast from hell"

then this bin bag should
pretty much seal it.

Even the most
prodigious of carnivores

don't tend to be THAT handy
with a Stanley knife.

And you put this together with
that handprint over there,

and the two glowing green eyes...

Good Lord.
What on earth are you suggesting?

Oh, my God, what a night.

This is doing my
nerves no good at all,

waking up terrified to
death every morning.

Sandman again?

Didn't help, all that
business in the garden.

Strange apparitions in the bushes.

And whatever time
did YOU get in finally?

I looked at the clock, half past
five, you still weren't there.

Can't believe you had
to go back to that place.

Ferreting around at
all hours of the night.

Yeah, got back about six,
I think it was, in the end.

And how come you're so bloody fresh
on one-and-a-half hours' sleep,

when I've had eight and I'm wrecked?

So what am I looking at here?

Three old Christmas cards from...

Captain Ian Amery-Cooper?

It's a drug, isn't it?

We're never going to wean you off.

Pointless, I suppose, to even try.

Could have been a dead end.

There's no guarantee.

The old mental flow chart. You know,
one black bin bag led to another.

20-odd years' worth
of Christmas cards?

If you're looking for
an old family friend,

seemed like a good place to start.

An old family friend...

Who the hell is Ian Amery-Cooper?

Someone who's going to explain
how a set of winning lottery numbers

were painted on a wall 50 years
before anyone picked them out?

That's what I'm hoping.

I would try and take
you through it, but...

first day back at the office?

I know you don't want to be late.

Definitely. We'll have that storyboarded
up for you by Monday at the latest, so

talking figures middle
of next week. Bye-bye.

...by means of collusion
with the celestial forces

that shape our destiny...

I shall make my prediction!

No, wait, that was...

Please, don't go. Please!

Yes...

Yes, yes.

Thank you, Mr. Greeley.

That could well be more
helpful than you imagined.

No, no, that's fine.
What time would be good for you?

Okay. Great.

No, I'm hoping actually it'll be
very much to your advantage, so...

Yeah. See you then. Bye.

Very much to whose advantage?

How did it go with the
number crunchers?

Erm... yeah, good, good,
that's all going to work out.

What are your plans tonight?

No idea. But I've got a feeling
you're about to tell me.

Well, if we can get
everything to slot together,

I think tonight might just see
a resolution to our puzzle.

Though I'm going to need a bit
of help from you in the meantime.

Go on.

I think we've got quite
enough ammunition now

to flush him out, but...

something tells me that
Sir Leonard Corbyn's

going to pay more
attention to a woman.

We've definitely come
to the right place here?

As per the instructions.

Think that tells the story.

Mr. Creek. Good evening.

Ah. Polly, can I introduce
Captain Ian Amery-Cooper?

Mmm... This is welcome.

Homeless, rudderless, but not
yet hopeless, we like to feel.

And culinary discretion
certainly unimpaired.

They won't put up with any slop.

Premises far from ideal, of course,

but until that spanking new
hostel lands in our lap...

So. Yes, I'm sorry I seem
to have proved so elusive.

The "captain" bit had
pretty much defeated me.

Armed forces, serving and retired,
not an Amery-Cooper in sight.

Till it came back to me,
a fleeting image of a

different kind of uniform
in that old bit of film.

I imagine would have been...

Yes. My father, God bless him.

Which is what led you to us.

But what a strange and
convoluted business.

I've no idea how you made
all those connections.

Obviously very happy to
fill in the gaps for you,

but did you say you'd
also invited, erm...?

Well, not so much an invitation,

more an appeal to his conscience,
if he had one.

And it appears that he has.

So, in addition to all
the other charges

currently being levelled
against you, Mr. Corbyn,

would it be fair
to add one more?

The charge of fraudulently depriving
this man of his lottery winnings?

All right. I'm here, aren't I?

That tells you everything
you need to know.

I never imagined this
was going to be pleasant,

so let's just hear what
you've got to say,

and skip the rhetorical questions.

A miraculous prediction,
discovered a few days ago,

of your six random numbers

was clearly never
anything of the kind.

Odds against that happening would be
astronomical, even for Astrodamus.

But people do pick lottery numbers
all the time that aren't random.

And those numbers come up.

And the only way this made sense

would be if the winning
line on that lottery ticket

had actually been chosen
in the first place

because it appeared on that wall.

Which would make your claim
of a chance selection

purchased "on a total whim"...

...suddenly rather suspect.

And might well raise the question,

was that gift to the village hall
made more out of guilt than charity?

So what was the real story here?

The words underneath
had to be the trigger.

"Will win".
Just a bit too good to be true.

But with that little symbol
in between them...

not a cross, I would suggest,
but a plus sign,

all a bit more mundane.

Two screw-marks in
the skirting board

suggested a nearby phone point
in the bedroom, years ago.

Mid-60s, probably not
something that common.

Then how much of a stretch is it
to imagine our young Mr. Ipswich

there one day,
redecorating the bedroom,

walls all just nicely plastered,
waiting to be papered,

when he gets a call from
a friend in the village.

Hello?

Can I suggest one of your parents?

My mother's family and my father's,

would both have been connected
around the same time.

So we'd be talking three years
before they were married,

five before I was born.

One of them, at any rate,

has just called to give him
the two new phone numbers.

He's standing there
with his hands full...

what does he do?

So a couple called William
and Winifred, as it happens,

weren't that hard to trace,
when it came to it.

And obvious candidates for the
real owners of that lottery ticket,

if they were still around.

If not, maybe someone
closely related

might have kept in touch
for a while, at Christmas...

Well, I never knew, obviously,
about that writing on the wall.

But I'd seen something similar once

in an address book an old friend
of the family fished out.

The way those figures fell, and
the thing with my parents' names,

well, it was just
meant to be, wasn't it?

"One day," I thought, "who knows?
Maybe I 'will win'."

And then, after 12 years,
every week, of trying,

the ultimate cruelty.

I won't repeat what I said
when I watched the draw.

The following three
weeks, thankfully

I was out of the country
in Southern Angola.

Helps to put things
into perspective, rather.

The most bizarre thing, you know,

when something like
that lands at your feet.

From the way I lead my life,

I might have expected some
kind of censure or reckoning.

But instead, here was this,

a sudden, overwhelming
endorsement.

...coming from now is number 32.

It's number 47!

And finally, our jackpot number
this week, it's number 30!

'What other message to
take from that but "enjoy"?'

Foolish, I suppose, to think
that's how the world works.

Much of the time, sadly, it does.

But that's the challenge

for those of us who believe
in more than this world.

The sordid question of...

Yes. Er, no. To be addressed. Sure.

You said something about
a... spanking new hostel.

Goodness, yes.

The Bernard Cloony Centre, perhaps.

Sorry. No. Stop it!

Just off then now, darling,
see you later!

Yes, take care! Bye!

Hi, it's me.
Where are you?

Yes, sounds perfect.

So, that little thing we discussed...

do you think now would be
the right time to go for it?

Wonder how he'll be,
after everything.

Well, according to the
sister on the ward,

they're really thrilled
with his progress.

Ironically, once the word got through
about this big prediction

it seemed to be a bit
of a turning point.

She said he's virtually
back to his old self.

Oh, dear.

No, it's been quite a triumph
all around, indeed! Hmm.

Mr. Ipswich. Hi, how you doing?

Exceedingly well, since you ask!

You remember Jonathan?
And I'm Polly.

He's had quite a busy time of it
since he got back, haven't you?

Visits and phone calls from
neighbours and well-wishers.

Local TV news team,

cameras and lights, the lot.

All wanting to know how I did it.

But that would be telling.

Yes, I'm considering
making a comeback!

Well, let's not get carried away.

- What do you mean?
- Great idea!

Whole new fan base out there,
don't want to let them down.

Mr. Creek was a bit of
a sceptic, of course.

But he's laughing on the
other side of his face now.

Small mark of your genius

that even he's had to cry
off in ignominious defeat.

Hmm. Yes.

Mr. Greeley, have you got a second?
I wouldn't mind a quick word.

Mr. Greeley, much as we all value
the role of your parish magazine

in keeping us abreast of local news,

I just wondered if you'd agree

there are certain codes of
practice to be observed

in the gathering of that news.

Well, how do you mean?

Of course, one would never want to
cross the line into any, shall we say,

unethical behaviour...

Oh, good. I just wondered
how you felt, Mr. Greeley,

about the professional ethics of,

for example, hacking into
someone's baby monitor?

Yeah... erm...

How would that work, exactly?

Well, from your point of view,
quite easily, I imagine.

The stories come in, no questions
asked, you just print them.

Stories based on intimate
conversations about badgers,

and Japanese knotweed, in the
privacy of someone's bedroom.

Obviously I can't reveal my sources,

but it would appear that
only 15 minutes ago

a "rogue reporter" was
actually caught in the act.

Hi, it's me. Where are you?

Yes, sounds perfect.

So, that little thing we discussed,

you think now would be
the right time to go for it?

The coast is clear.

I think we can settle this
once and for all, don't you?

No problem. I'm on the case.

Oh, would you believe it,
it looks as if Mr. Creek was right.

So, you'll be the man who's been
going through our rubbish.

And that large shape that was
seen crawling into the bushes...

...through the eyes of a passer-by

well tanked up from
a night at the pub...

Not really mysterious
enough, did you think,

to be worthy of inclusion?

Good grief! Well, I shall certainly
look into this one, rest assured.

And if I hear there's been any hint
of chicanery on anyone's part...

You wouldn't be in
the least surprised.

So anyway, lovely fresh bedroom,
Mr. Ipswich. Are you pleased?

Brought you some fruit, look.

And uh... also some magazines...

and puzzle books.

Nothing of any practical use, then.

And who are you?

Want to make this
quick and painless.

Tell us what you got that's worth
taking, and where we can find it.

Bollocks to that.
Get out of my house!

Or you'll do what, Grandpa?

Or I'll do this.

Think you'll scare us
with a toy, do you?

Why don't we find out?

Shit!

Shit!

Panic over. Take care. All the best.

So, Japanese knotweed not knotweed,
according to our garden expert friend.

Just something very similar.

Panic over, good result.

What?

Oh, no, it's just the way
it keeps on coming back.

Goes away for a bit, and then...

This morning, in that
room with Mr. Ipswich,

I just suddenly just saw it.

Isn't it funny? The whole thing.

The Sandman.

I must have been,
I don't know, about five or six.

I had this rabbit, Twitcher.

And then that awful thing.

One day they told me I had
to be brave and say goodbye.

Polly...

This nice gentleman was going
to come round, the Sandman,

and quietly put her to sleep.

Well, I didn't know what a vet was.

To me he was just the most
frightening person in the world.

And of course, this is
where we buried her.

I had this stupid idea
if we grew carrots here,

she'd always have
something to eat.

And that's how it started.

How many fathers would do that?

Every year since.

Right up to the end,

he's been coming out here and...

Scattering his seed.

Has... she been saying
something to you, about...?

Yeah, where did that come from?

Some weird remark she made.

I just happened to mention how my
hand was feeling a lot better now.

One more little mystery, I suppose,

I'll get to the bottom of, eventually.

Yes.

Please don't.