Original subtitles

(ethereal music)

(bridles rattling) (hooves clomping)

(horses snorting)

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic music) (engine roars)

(punch thudding)

[Referee] One, two, three, four.

(solemn music)

I'll caution again.

(punches thudding) (fighters grunting)

(solemn music)

(punches thudding) (fighters grunting)

(solemn music)

(punches thudding) (fighters grunting)

[Billy] Put your arm out there, that's it.

Come on.

(punches thudding) (fighters grunting)

(solemn music)

(punches thudding) (fighters grunting)

(solemn music)

(punches thudding) (fighters grunting)

(bell dings) (dramatic music)

(crowd applauds)

Good round.

Well done.

Well done.

Well, I'm delighted.

This is good news, David.

It is indeed.

I'm so glad we were able to persuade you.

Your Mr. Digby made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

(Clive laughs)

What'll you have to drink, Joe?

[Joe] Oh, thank you, a dry white wine, please.

Dry white wine.

Let's see.

Champagne?

All right then, fizzy dry white wine.

(Clive chuckling)

You open it, David.

I was asking someone about you the other day.

"What about Joe Lampton?" I said.

"What do you think of him?"

And I got a very emphatic reply,

overbearing, treacherous, conceited, aggressive.

Seems you've been working against him, a loser.

Well, I'm glad to have you on my side, Joe.

Thank you, sir.

(Clive laughs)

(punches thudding)

[Referee] One, two, three, four,

five, six, seven.

[Harry] You mean they, uh, offered you a job?

[Joe] Something like that.

[Harry] Any good?

Not bad.

Managing director.

(Harry laughs)

You're joking?

Straight up.

Managing director?

Jesus wept.

Well, why you?

What the hell do you know about chemicals?

Pharmaceuticals.

Ah, chemicals, pharmaceuticals, don't give me that.

The only time you've been near a chemist shop is

to buy a packet of French letters.

Well, that's where you're wrong.

I get mine from the barber's.

[Harry] Well, I'm bloody glad

it didn't happen last month.

[Joe] What?

All this, I'm glad His Lordship didn't pop the question

before you'd made up your mind to join us.

Lord Ackerman doesn't do the asking.

All that crude stuff's done by his lawyer,

a fellow called Digby,

one of those smooth, young fascists

with a smile like a bacon slicer.

(laughs) Yeah, well, it's all right

if you like crawlin', I suppose,

if you don't mind lickin' boots 24 hours a day.

Go on, you wouldn't have lasted a month, Joe.

Well, we'll have to see.

I took the job.

Ah, now come on!

Look, Harry!

Nothing was agreed.

Nothing was settled.

Don't try to pretend I've let you down.

- You made it clear. - Nothing was signed!

No, nothing was signed.

I pity you, Joe.

If you're that ambitious,

it means you've got sod all else to live for.

Hilda asked me if you'd like to have dinner.

I'll tell her you had to get back.

(metal clangs)

In the parlance of we managing directors, Mr. Marshall,

(car door thuds) up yours!

(punches thudding)

(bell dings) (crowd applauds)

(crowd chattering)

(boxer gargling)

[David] Dry white wine?

Thanks, Digby.

Who are these people?

Oh, you know, friends, associates, just people.

All hired from Rent-a-Guest.

At the moment, the accent is on politics.

A few weeks ago, it was theatrical.

That was when his daughter thought she might like

to become an actress.

When Lord Ackerman issues an invitation,

people tend to accept.

So I gather.

I didn't realise he was serious about politics,

not seriously serious, at any rate.

The exercise of power isn't a spectator sport.

Well, you know that.

How are you settling in?

No complaints so far.

Good, splendid.

Come and meet Hugh Tarrant.

(guests chattering)

Hugh!

Joe Lampton, Hugh Tarrant.

[Hugh] Pleased to meet you, Lampton.

Hugh's the financial director

for the Ackerman Group as a whole.

You know that, of course.

Of course.

I'm sure he knows a great deal about all of us.

I know enough.

A man of few words.

Who's that?

[David] What?

[Joe] Over there.

[Hugh] He means Alex.

I'll introduce you.

Alex, you look absolutely wizard.

Oh, thank you, David.

I don't think you've met Mr. Lampton.

Joe, this is Lady Ackerman.

So you're the latest acquisition?

Oh, aye, I'm a pretty rare specimen,

unique in many ways.

So I gathered.

Oh, David, go and rescue the home secretary.

Clive's cornered him in the library.

My husband always tries

to monopolise the principal guest, I'm afraid.

Tsk, tsk, how tiresome.

I, um, I do hope you're enjoying yourself, Mr. Lampton.

Hmm?

Not much.

Are you?

Well, nobody's listening to anybody.

You realise that, don't you?

They might just as well have spent the evening

at home listening to themselves talking.

I'm listening.

Clive says you're very ambitious.

Nothing wrong in ambition, is there?

Oh no, not necessarily.

I, I just wonder why.

Why?

Yes, I mean, what for?

What are you ambitious for, power, money, influence?

That'll do for a start.

There you are, you see,

ambitious and greedy.

You're very different from your predecessor, Mr. Lampton.

Mr. Taranath?

Yes, Mr. Taranath.

He was so, oh, correct, so formal.

How long have you been Lady Ackerman?

Three years.

Married before, divorced?

Yes.

So am I.

You're not all what I expected.

Oh, is that good or bad?

Oh good.

I expected some sort of John Peel in drag.

(Alex laughs)

You know, I get the feeling you're making fun

of us all, Mr. Lampton.

Joe.

I, um, I think I'd better go

and mingle with the other guests.

Why not mingle with me?

How about lunch, next week?

I make it a rule never to have lunch with the employees.

(punches thudding) (fighters grunting)

[Joe] Hurry, up, Digby.

Where is it, love?

Along the landing, last door on the left.

Hello, Mrs. Langham.

Is Caroline there?

Yes, it's me, Robin.

Hello, Carrie, it's Robin.

Look, I'd better come over to you.

Daddy's having another one of his boring cocktail things.

[Caroline] How long will you be?

- What? - How long will you be?

Oh, at least another hour, longer probably.

Oh, can you hang on a minute?

(punch thuds)

Okay, stand away.

One, two, three, four,

five, six, seven,

wipe your glove down!

Box on!

(punches thudding) (fighters grunting)

Stand away.

One, two, three,

four, five, six, seven,

eight, nine, out!

(crowd applauds)

[Billy] Beautiful, beautiful (laughs).

You leaving, sir?

Yes.

Nothing wrong, is there?

Thank you.

Should there be?

Well, I just wondered...

I just thought that that message might have upset you.

My dear Joe, what a frightful worrier you are.

It's a killer, you know, anxiety.

I'll see you on Tuesday.

- Tuesday? - At the board luncheon.

I do hope you can make it.

I gather that the Americans are quite keen to talk.

How's His Lordship this evening?

Piss off, Tommy.

Seemed a bit worried, I thought, didn't you,

dashing away like that?

Why didn't he wait till the end of the fight?

Perhaps he caught sight of you.

(Tommy chuckles)

Scotch, please, double.

I wouldn't mind being Lord Ackerman.

That's a fact.

Hereditary power,

there's nothing to beat it, you know, nothing.

I mean, you're doing all right, Joe,

very nicely, but it's not the same thing, is it?

Hasn't got the same sort of strength,

the same sort of security, huh?

Tell me something, Tommy.

What's that, old boy?

How can a cheap slob journalist

like you afford a posh place the Cafe Royal?

My rich brother-in-law brought me.

He's very keen on boxing.

Go and watch some then.

I thought I might find more interesting things

happening down here.

What are you up after, Wisbech?

What are you sniffing around for?

Nothing in particular.

Just hoping some nice, juicy bit of gossip will fall

into your sweaty palms?

Now never despise a cheap journalist slob

for hoping for things like that.

What did I tell ya?

Piss off.

Why are you so aggressive, Joe?

Because I haven't time to be anything else.

Come on, come on, have another one.

Not with you breathing down my neck.

I do wish you'd tell me what's wrong, Joe,

you know, friend a need and all that.

- Wrong? - Yes, with Lord Ackerman

and his mighty empire. - Nothing's wrong.

Nothings wrong, everything's fine.

Then why did he hire you.

Thanks very much.

Oh come on, Joe, you're a bright lad.

We all know that.

But Ackerman land is way outside your class.

Class?

I don't mean class class.

What then?

Well, to begin with, you're no scientist, are you?

What's that got to do with it?

Well, if I was going to appoint a director

of Chem Export...

I've been hired to make profits, not pills.

Oh, eh, Joe?

- What's that? - My phone number.

Give us a ring if anything breaks.

You must be joking.

At the risk of being a bore,

some people are born great,

some people achieve greatness,

and some people have greatness thrust upon them,

all except Joe Lampton, of course.

His greatness is a gift from Lord Ackerman.

Now a gift like that would worry me, Joe.

I'd wonder what was behind it.

Thanks.

Things haven't been too bright lately.

I could do with something big.

As the actress said to the bishop.

(Tommy chuckles)

When I was a kid, I knew a fella

whose brother was trainee journalist on the local paper.

I envied him, do you know that?

I actually envied him.

Pathetic how stupid kids can be.

You don't hold a very high opinion of the British press,

do you, Mr. Lampton?

If I had my way,

all papers would be printed ready perforated

with a hole in the corner for the nail.

Isn't he here, Mr. Lampton?

- What? - Lord Ackerman.

Well, he pushed off about 10 minutes ago.

But he came here to see me fight.

He came here specially.

(solemn music)

(siren wailing)

(Joe sighs)

You enjoy doing what you're told?

[Waitress] Well, that depends.

Chasing around after people like me,

fetching the food, pouring the wine.

[Waitress] It's a job.

Just a job?

That's right.

It doesn't worry you then, serving people,

being a servant?

Well, why should it?

We're all somebody's servant, after all,

even you, sir.

I wanted English mustard.

This is French.

(knocks at door)

You better see who that is.

Yes, sir.

Whatever you say, sir.

Forget the mustard.

Yes, sir.

Goodnight, sir.

Well, surprised?

What did you tell him?

Tell him?

Oh, you mean Clive.

Yes, I mean Clive.

I'm just popping out for a quick poke with Joe Lampton.

Somebody rang up.

They wanted to see him.

Half past 11?

He told me to go to bed.

He didn't say with who, though?

No.

Aren't you pleased to see me?

Surprised, that's all.

How was the boxing?

Not bad.

Be nice, Joe, please.

Who rang up?

[Alex] I don't know.

Business, was it?

Well, yes, I suppose so.

Lucky you arrived when you did.

You saved that poor girl from a fate worse than death.

What poor girl?

Well, the waitress.

Didn't you notice her,

throbbing with shop-girl sexuality?

Arrogant with it,

that's what I like about her sort,

don't give a bugger one way or the other.

You can always pick 'em out.

There's that come-and-get-it look in their eyes.

Like you.

Like me.

Don't forget the light.

(gentle music)

[Operator] Switchboard.

- Hello. - Can I help you?

Uh, yeah, Mr. Lampton.

Can I have, uh, seven o'clock call

and the usual breakfast?

[Operator] Yes, we'll call you.

Thank you, good night.

[Operator] Good night, sir.

(gentle music)

You look so young lying there.

Oh, aye, not but a lad.

Oh, I wish I'd known you then.

- When I was a lad? - Mm.

(chuckles) Christ, you'd have run a bloody mile.

I didn't waste my time cultivating a rough-hewn,

working-class charm, you know.

I was the genuine foul-smelling,

nose-picking, graceless article.

You'd have run a bloody mile.

[Alex] I might not have done.

Oh yes, you would.

I was unpleasant, coarse,

poor, crude and resentful.

I hated the sound of middle-class voices.

I hated the sight of their neatly pressed trousers

and their crisp, white shirts.

I wanted to piss on 'em all, from a very great height.

(gentle music)

Well, now you can.

Oh no, I can't.

"I never lunch with the employees."

Remember that?

Oh, why must you keep dragging that up?

I mean, that was months ago.

Weeks, not months.

Bit overdressed, aren't you?

Am I?

Aren't you?

(gentle music)

Leave that.

Leave it.

You know, it does seem strange.

What?

I know so little about you.

Ask dear Clive for my personal file.

Even when we're together, it's in a hotel.

What's wrong with that, hmm?

It's warm, comfortable.

Food's not bad.

(Alex sighs)

Can't you get yourself a flat, Joe?

I'll find you one.

No, thanks.

Why not?

Because I like it here, that's why.

It's uncluttered, undemanding.

I like it.

Just because Susan left you, it doesn't mean...

I left her.

I left her, don't you bloody well forget it.

(gentle music)

(Alex sighs)

(objects clacking)

(muffled speaking)

Good evening.

(muffled speaking)

[Alex] What are you thinking about?

Your husband, since you ask.

(Alex sighs)

Someone slipped a note to him during the evening,

gave him quite a turn.

I just wonder what was in it.

When was this?

During the boxing.

Then he goes home,

gets a phone call about half past 11.

Does he often get calls that late?

Hmm, sometimes, not often.

I just wonder what's going on.

Something must be.

Never mind, I'll ask him tomorrow.

Oh no, not tomorrow, we're going to the country.

Tomorrow's Friday.

Yes, I know.

We're going to the country.

When?

First thing in the morning.

Huh, never told me.

Never told me until tonight.

Christ Almighty.

Well, it's a working weekend, Joe.

Hugh Tarrant's coming, and David.

Well, why not me?

Why not you?

Well, if they're going, why not me?

Well, perhaps it doesn't concern you.

What doesn't?

Whatever it is they're going to discuss.

It concerns me all right.

How do you know?

I just do.

(sighs) Do stop thinking everyone's against you.

Stop thinking that and you're dead.

I know.

You ask me.

What?

You invite me.

I'll come as your guest.

I can't do that, Joe.

What, it's not much to ask, for Christ's sake.

No, I, I, I can't.

Look, I need your help.

I can't.

Joe, I'm sorry.

I can't. - Oh, all right then, sod off.

Oh, Joe, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Please forgive me.

Please, I'll do anything.

Don't say that.

I'm sorry.

Joe, I'm sorry.

(lips smacking) (Joe gasps)

(dramatic music) (Alex gasps)

(solemn music)

[Joe] What's on your mind?

Taranath has killed himself.

Killed himself?

He drove into Hyde Park, got up onto the bandstand

and emptied a revolver into his mouth.

Christ.

But why?

What made him do it?

Well, that's it, nobody knows.

When did it happen?

Yesterday, some time yesterday morning, I think.

It can't be anything to do with us.

I tried to contact Lord Ackerman.

He's gone to the country.

So I discovered.

With Digby and Tarrant.

Yes.

You think it is something to do with us.

It's possible.

How?

Mr. Taranath left Chem Export,

because he wanted the production of D-50 to be delayed.

(chuckles) That was six months ago, seven!

But the only thing he'd got in his briefcase was a copy

of that letter, his letter of resignation,

no note, no explanation, just that letter.

What about his wife?

He wasn't married.

- You called me. - Hello, yes, look,

will you go down to records

and get everything they've got on Mr. Taranath and quickly?

(switch clicks)

How did you find out?

Well, the police rang.

They wanted to speak to you.

To me?

But I said you weren't in yet

and that I would deal with it.

But why me, for Christ's sake?

Well, I gather Lord Ackerman said

that you'd taken over for Mr. Taranath.

Well, they knew last night,

that's for sure.

Lord Ackerman?

Is there anything I can do?

Yes, there is.

You can cancel the lunch with the bank

and cancel the budget meeting.

Somebody's trying to land me in it.

I wonder who.

(phone rattling) (typewriter clacking)

Hello, it's staff records here.

Mr. Digby wanted to know if anyone asked

for Mr. Taranath's files.

Yeah, well, Mr. Lampton's just sent down for 'em.

Well, that's just routine pension bumf.

There's nothing there.

These were taken in Africa.

Taranath went out last year when D-50 was first introduced.

What'd he go out there for?

Oh, high-level chatting up, ironing out snags,

that sort of thing.

What's in here?

Uh, more photographs, some of the African people came

over here on a PR junket.

Empty.

Doesn't make sense.

What doesn't?

Taranath and D-50.

One minute, he's calling it the wonder drug

to save millions.

The next minute, he wants it all stopped, and resigns.

He wanted more tests.

He wanted more time.

But why?

Well, I don't know.

He didn't say.

Did he tell Ackerman?

Presumably.

Now what's in here?

Uh, reports, medical reports.

All D-50?

Yeah.

All from the same part of Africa.

[Massey] What are you gonna do?

No point in waiting for trouble.

I'm going out to find it.

(solemn music)

(engine revs)

I thought you'd buggered off with His Lordship.

Slight change of plan.

[Joe] I suppose you knew about this Taranath thing?

Tragic, isn't it?

What's going on, Digby?

[Digby] Going on?

All right, then don't tell me.

I'll find out.

Lord Ackerman expects...

That this day every man will sit still

and get shat upon.

(engine revs)

(dramatic music)

[Massey] I'm afraid Mr. Lampton has been called away.

We'll have to cancel... - Where's he going?

- What? - Lampton, where's he going?

I've no idea.

You're his PA, for Christ's sake.

[Massey] I'll call you back.

[Operator] Hello.

- Get me Lord Ackerman. - Where is he?

At Middleton Grange.

(dramatic music)

Find him and fast!

- Stop him? - What?

- Stop him? - No, no, no, just watch him.

[Digby] By myself?

Get Weston on to it.

(engine revs)

(horn honking)

[Reporter] Although no firm decision could be reached

until after the meeting between the prime minister

and union chiefs at Chequers, this weekend.

Police have name the man found dead in Hyde Park yesterday

as Mr. Harish Taranath, an eminent research chemist

and businessman who, until last autumn,

was director of Chem Export Developments,

one of the Ackerman group of companies.

No further details have been issued, although the police say

that they have ruled out any suspicion of foul play.

That's all the news we have now.

The next bulletin is in one hour's time, at 11:30.

6.90, please, sir.

- Here you are. - Thank you very much, sir.

(dramatic music)

(engine revs)

(dramatic music)

How far you going?

[Joe] All the way.

Thanks.

What do you call yourselves?

(Eileen laughs) - Joyce.

She's Eileen.

Joe.

You going home then?

Sort of.

That's my home too.

Leeds?

It's up that way.

(Eileen laughs)

Is she all right?

She's just barmy.

Shut up, you daft prat.

(Eileen laughing)

(rain pattering) (thunder rumbling)

What, this one here?

No, next.

Oh, that lights up when I need more petrol.

What's that one over there?

That one?

That shows how much oil I've got.

You're not going very fast, are ya?

Fast enough.

Well, you'll have to go faster

if you want to get there before it's dark.

I know.

Well, why don't you then?

Because I don't want to.

Funny fella.

Who's this?

Who's what?

This picture.

Just some bloke.

Let's see.

It's a picture of your dad.

(Eileen and Joyce laughing)

How long you've been in London?

Since summer.

August.

Well, that's summer, isn't it?

I didn't say it wasn't.

Silly cow.

How'd you like it?

What?

London.

Oh.

(Eileen laughs) It's all right.

We'd been before, you know,

but we hadn't stayed.

Well, we didn't think we'd stay this time.

Just sort of happened.

Yeah, that's right.

It just sort of happened.

London's all right, I suppose.

Nothing special.

It's all right, though.

What's that thing there?

What thing where?

Looks like a phone.

That's what it is.

A phone?

Not a real one.

Of course it's a real one.

In a car?

He's having you on.

I tell ya, it's a real phone.

Believe that, and you'll believe anything.

All right then, try it.

What?

If you don't believe me, try it.

Hello, Mum.

Mum, it's me, Eileen.

[Mother] Who?

- Eileen. - Oh.

What?

[Mother] You should phone after six.

She said I should have phoned after six.

Guess where I am.

[Mother] What?

Where I am!

[Mother] Euston Station, by the sound of it.

"Euston Station, by the sound of it."

No, I'm in some bloke's car.

I'm in a car.

The phone's in the car.

Silly old cow.

What happened?

She said disgusting and hung up.

(Joyce laughs)

[Eileen] What's that little light?

[Joe] What little light?

[Eileen] That one.

Sod it.

(Joyce and Eileen laughing)

[Joyce] Anyway, it seems daft to me.

Daft, what do you mean daft?

You know...

Everything seems daft to you.

Pointless, she means.

Yeah, pointless.

You think it's pointless to have money?

I didn't say that.

[Eileen] She just said it's daft

to keep worrying about it.

I bet you wouldn't say no to 1,000 quid.

Who needs it?

Everyone needs money.

- Not much, though. - Not that much.

Not what much?

Not what you've got.

You don't need it.

Cheeky bugger, how do you know what I need?

All sorts of things, I bet.

No, listen, shut up.

Now I've worked hard for it and all, and remember,

I started off with a damn sight less than you two.

Hearts and flowers.

[Joe] Worked bloody hard for it.

And I'm still working hard for it.

[Eileen] You sound just like me dad.

[Joe] Cheeky bugger.

[Joyce] I mean, there's no virtue in working.

There's no virtue in makin' money.

If you can get by without it so much the better.

That's where your lot's got it all wrong.

What do you mean my lot?

[Eileen] Your generation.

[Joyce] That's right.

Look, I've still got one foot out of the grave, you know.

People like you are no better than slaves.

Is that a fact?

Always working for things you don't want.

Christ Almighty.

Yeah, this fella we met,

he said money's an outmoded, what?

Concept.

Yeah, concept.

He said we'd all be better off without it.

Maybe, the trouble is, love,

the world isn't like that.

It needs money.

It needs sods like me.

That's your world, Joe.

We've only got one and as things stand,

at present, that's mine.

Things might change.

Oh, aye, pigs might fly.

Here, look, it's a picture of that bloke.

What bloke?

Look.

It says he killed himself, why?

Don't know.

It says he were mixed up with drugs.

Uh, medical drugs, medicine, it was his job.

What, making 'em?

Well, that and selling them.

What, like a chemist?

In a way.

What's D-50?

What's it say?

Uh, Mr. Tara-something was responsible

for the initial research and development of D-50,

a drug now widely used in several African countries.

Well, it's something that helps people

who don't get enough food.

Famine, you see, malnutrition has a lot

of serious side effects.

D-50 helps to make these side effects a little less serious.

You know a lot about it.

I got his job.

He resigned.

I took over.

Then he killed himself?

He looks nice, kind.

Was he?

He worried too much.

He was all right.

(gentle music)

(horse snorting)

(phone rings)

[Alex] Clive!

Hmm?

Clive, it's for you.

Who is it?

Weston.

I'll take it in the study.

He's heading north, sir.

Though, he doesn't seem to be in a hurry.

No, he's at a roadhouse, sir,

with a couple of girls.

(Joyce and Eileen laughing) (water pattering)

[Joyce] Help, help.

(Eileen squeals)

I'm drowning!

I can't swim.

(both laughing)

Stop that bloody racket!

What's going on out there?

What are you doing?

Come on then, Joe.

Come on.

(Eileen and Joyce laughing)

[Joe] Cheeky monkey.

[Alex] I, uh, I thought Weston was staying in London.

No, he's driving up.

Why?

Does it matter?

Well, he, uh, he said it was important.

You know Weston.

He always exaggerates.

Please tell me what's going on?

Going on?

What is it, Clive?

Nothing really.

Though, it's possible your Mr. Lampton may be driving

up to see us.

(chuckles) My Mr. Lampton?

Ours, if you prefer it.

Is that why Weston rang up?

Yes.

You'd better tell Langridge to prepare the Brown Room.

No doubt he'll be staying.

Why is he coming?

Oh, perhaps he's worried or frightened or both.

Is it about Mr. Taranath?

I would think so, wouldn't you?

Has something gone wrong?

Nothing can go wrong.

Perhaps a minor change of plan.

(laughs) You know what?

I can't think why you employed him

if you dislike him so much.

Lampton?

He's an excellent salesman, first rate,

damn sight better than poor old Taranath.

He was far too much of an idealist, I'm afraid.

Too good for this naughty world.

If you like.

I wonder if Lampton rides.

Perhaps, I don't know.

Oh, I find it difficult to visualise, don't you?

Lampton on a horse (laughs).

Oh do stop being so...

So what?

(sighs) medieval.

(chuckles) I was talking about his character,

not his origins.

To me, Lampton is essentially a city figure.

I can't imagine him living in the country, can you?

Oh, I daresay he'll survive.

I daresay he will.

They know how to survive, the Lamptons of this world.

He fights to win.

Well, indeed he does.

Is that why you dislike him so much?

Dislike was your word Alex.

I despise him.

I despise him for his cheap self-assurance,

his filthy manners and his ridiculous vulgarity.

And yet, because he's a shrewd business man,

he is useful to me,

useful at the moment, at any rate.

How my father would have loathed him.

He would never have forgiven me

for employing such a man.

I couldn't help smiling to myself the other day.

We were standing in the board room, Lampton, David and I.

Lampton was standing directly beneath my father's portrait.

It was exactly as if the old boy was looking down at him.

You could almost hear him snort with disapproval (laughs).

It gives me a curious satisfaction

to benefit from his talents

while despising him as a person.

I suppose it's like owning a valuable work of art

that you find distasteful and ugly.

Pleasure and revulsion so closely combined,

the deeper the revulsion, the greater the pleasure.

Presumably, it's the same in bed.

Huh?

(solemn music)

(footsteps clatter)

(horse snorts)

What are you looking at?

Hmm, just lookin'.

There's not much to see.

One day, they'll cut down those trees,

tear up that hedge.

They'll build a road right across that meadow,

then houses, then shops.

Then there'll be a fellow like me sitting

behind a bloody great desk,

wondering how much he can make out of a two-acre site.

You know, when I was a kid,

there was an old woman living up our street,

Mrs. Wallis, old Mrs. Wallis,

grey hair tied back in a bun,

tits like prize marrows.

She always wore dark clothes, black usually.

Strict churchgoer.

Now I was scared of her, yet she was always kind.

Mind you, I didn't know her well.

I didn't know her at all, really.

Then one day, she died.

I watched her funeral pass.

I was with some of me mates.

We were off to see United,

so we didn't hang about too long.

But then a few weeks later, I realised I missed her.

I missed seeing her about the place.

The street was never the same without her.

Never was, never again.

Same with all this.

You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?

Haven't got the first idea.

Talkin' about some old girl with big boobs.

(Eileen laughs)

Do you reckon they're all like you?

[Eileen] How do you mean?

You were talking about my lot, earlier on.

Well, what about your lot?

Do you reckon they're all like you?

Hmm, don't know.

There's no such thing as our lot.

We're all different.

Oh, really?

Yeah, that's right.

Christ, are you in for a rude awakening.

Who, me?

Aye, you, all of ya,

all the soft-skinned, moist-eyed, flaxen-haired brigade,

all those feeble, wanking revolutionaries

and their bell-bottomed denims

and all those art school Jesus Christs

with their pot-smoking, muddle-headed gospels

about candy floss futures where everybody fucks,

nobody fights, and human nature changes overnight.

Are you in for a rude awakening.

Come on, I'll drive you home.

And what's more, looking at all your smiling faces,

here tonight, I feel I must say,

where's me bleeding trousers, Mother?

Norma!

Where's me trousers?

[Norma] Hang on!

I'm just puttin' a couple of stitches in the flies.

We've been wed 20 year.

It's a bit late, isn't it?

[Norma] What?

Nothing.

Hurry up, will ya?

Jack's pickin' me up in 20 minutes.

I can remember when you were twice

as keen as that to get out of them.

I'll just go and iron your hankies.

(doorbell rings)

Go on, I'll get that.

It's a bit early for Jack.

Well?

It'll either be Eamonn Andrews, with a big red book,

or her from next door, come to borrow some milk.

Hmm.

Go get your ironing done, woman.

I'm working tonight.

Well, what do you want?

Table for three, near the band please, waiter.

I don't believe it.

- Hello, Dad. - Hello, Mr. Harvey.

I don't bloody believe it.

Dad, this is Joe.

He give us a lift.

In that, I suppose?

Joycey?

Joycey, you're back. - Hello, Mum!

Oh, come in, let me have a look at you.

Hold on, hold on.

Six months, she's been gone,

six months without a word,

and you'll let her walk in, just like that?

Leave her, George.

Leave her, leave her?

She bloody left us, didn't she?

How have you been, love?

I've been fine, Mum.

God give me strength.

She disappears for six months,

and you behave as though she'd been to bingo

for a couple of hours.

She's back, isn't she?

Aye and how she's back, in that, with him.

And what have you got to say for yourself?

Your flies are undone.

(Joyce laughs)

That's as may be,

but who do you think you are, anyway,

leading young girls astray?

I didn't take 'em away, Mr. Harvey.

I brought 'em back. - But what I want to know is...

And now I must be getting on.

Wouldn't you like a cup of tea?

Tea, you're offering him tea?

Unless you've got a bottle of champagne

you want to crack. (George scoffs)

I don't want him in my house.

I know his sort.

I know your sort.

I've met 'em.

You're... - Dad, please!

Dad, please?

What I want to know is what's been going off between...

Whatever's happened is over,

and it's nowt to do with Joe.

I'm home now.

Isn't that enough?

Aren't you pleased to see me?

Come in and shut the door.

Are you sure you wouldn't like something more, Mr. Lampton?

No, thanks, that were a grand drop of tea, love.

[Norma] Oh, thanks.

Aye, you'll not get tea like it down South.

Too true.

Down there, they can read your tealeaves,

while the cup's still full.

(Norma and Joyce chuckle)

I'll just clear this lot away then.

Oh, I'll give you a hand, Mrs. Harvey.

[Norma] Oh.

Care for a drop of this?

No.

Made it me self, matured in bath in seven minutes.

All right, just the one then.

That's all you were bloody well offered.

(both chuckle)

Aren't you gonna offer me anything, Dad?

Of course, my love, how rude of me.

What do you want, back of me hand or front?

Get out there and help your mother.

I want to talk to Joe.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

Don't be too hard on her.

She's a bright lass, and they know how

to look after themselves, these days.

I suppose so, but things were different

when I were that age.

Do you know, I said to her once,

you kids just don't what good clean fun is,

and she said... - No, what good is it?

Now, come on, George,

you're digging 'em up a bit, aren't you?

(both laugh)

Occupational hazard, I suppose.

[Joe] How do you mean?

Hellfire, you didn't think I were dressed

for dinner, did you?

I'm going to work in five minutes.

I'm a comic.

I do clubs around here.

(women laughing) - Oh, aye.

Do you enjoy it?

You what?

Driving 40-odd mile in pissin' rain, changing in bog,

going on between meat pie and raffles?

Better than working, eh?

Ever thought of going for the big time,

like on the box, for instance?

No, what for?

I make enough to live comfortable.

Like, I've house, wife,

(Joyce laughing) and her,

when she bothers to drop in.

You married, Joe?

No.

It's indigestion makes me look like this.

[George] Wedded to your job, eh?

Living in sin with it, more like.

[George] What took you to London, in first place?

Second-class single from Leeds Central.

(laughs) I asked for that, I suppose.

[Joe] You'll be putting it in the act, next week.

No, threw it out, last week.

Forget it, laddie.

It's none of my business, anyway.

No, George, it's quite simple really.

You just said that you're happy being a little fish

in a big bowl.

Well, when I lived up here, I kept banging me nose

against the glass and wondering

what the hell was going on out there.

And what did you find?

I found elbow room, if you're prepared to use your elbows,

and a foothold on the ladder of success,

if you're prepared to step on someone's fingers.

I seem to have two problems, George.

One, I think I'm a bastard.

Two, I think I like it.

Oh, aye.

Now come on, George.

You've only got two choices, get out

and go for the big one or don't compete

and make do with second best.

Which is what I've done?

Which is what you've don't,

and what have you got to show for it?

I've told you.

I've got the house, the wife, kid,

and I'm happy.

Well, I've had all that,

and I suppose I can do just about anything I want,

and I'm bloody unhappy.

Still, I can afford to buy myself a better class of misery.

I suppose so.

But if that's how you feel, Joe,

what's the golden secret?

What have they got in London they haven't got in Leeds?

Nothing, but they're prettier and more available.

Now listen, George, I, uh, I didn't know Joyce in London.

I only met them...

It's nowt to do with me, lad.

Our Joyce lives her own life now,

goes when she wants, comes back when she wants,

and by and large, we're always glad to see her.

First time she ran away, 14-year-old,

went out for three fish suppers,

came back two days later.

What did you do?

Opened a tin of salmon.

(women laughing)

I should've known.

Are you off then, Joe?

Aye.

Well, thanks again.

I'll see you again, sometime.

(lips smack)

Thanks, Joe, ta-ra.

Don't be so rude, you two.

Wait until your guest has gone.

Joyce, turn that thing off.

Well, thanks again for the hospitality.

Comes the next cricket season,

I might see you at Headingly, George.

Not if light's bad, old love.

Joyce, will you turn

that thing off? - It was here that the body

was found in Hyde Park.

- No, leave it. - Mr. Taranath left his home

at 6 a.m. and wasn't seen until his body was discovered

by an old woman who'd been sleeping rough in the park.

But why Mr. Taranath killed himself

and why he chose this particular way

to do it are questions still to be answered.

And now back to the studio.

[Reporter] Mr. Harish Taranath was well known

for his work on the development and use of drugs

to offset the effects of malnutrition and tropical diseases.

His death will be keenly felt in the world

of chemical research and the world health organisations.

[George] Poor little buggers.

(dramatic music)

(doorbell rings)

(door rattles)

[Joe] Mr. Lampton for Lord Ackerman.

[Billy] Yes, sir.

Perhaps you'd like to...

I'd like to go straight in,

if it's all the same to you.

Where are they, eating?

I've seen you somewhere before.

Yes, mm. (Sarah chuckles)

In there, I see it,

sometimes. (Alex laughs)

(guests chattering)

Joe.

I've come to talk about Taranath.

Yes, of course.

Do you know Mrs. Tarrant, by the way?

How do you do?

It's been a bloody long drive.

Yes, you'll want to wash.

I want to talk.

Ah, Weston.

Show Mr. Lampton upstairs, would you?

We're putting you in the Brown Room.

It used to be my study when I was a boy.

Do hope you like it.

You were expecting me?

Massey, your PA, rang.

Massey rang?

He obviously expected you much earlier.

Do you have any luggage, sir?

I've got a few things in the car.

Well, take some gear from my room,

you know, pyjamas, dressing gown.

[Joe] Thanks.

Excuse me, sir.

I've definitely seen you somewhere before.

Ah, Billy Weston.

You remember the name, surely,

used to be a first-class heavyweight.

Didn't you, Billy?

That's kind of you to say so, my lord.

(Clive chuckles) (door thuds)

[Clive] Ah (laughs)!

We'd almost given you up for lost.

Yes, I'm sorry.

You know Mr. Lampton, don't you?

Not formally.

(chuckles) Robin doesn't care much

for the formalities of life.

All she thinks about is horses.

Isn't that right, Robin?

I always thought Robin was a fella's name.

(laughs) I do hope you're comfortable.

I'll manage.

Ah, an old auntie of mine used to have a place around here.

Really, sir?

You could've got the whole of her house

into this hall and have room to spare.

You're supposed to laugh.

Yes, sir.

Shall I draw the curtains, sir?

Uh, no, leave it.

All right, that's all.

Thank you, sir.

I'll, uh, just get your things.

(phone rings) (Joe sighs)

[Massey] Massey here.

It wasn't very bright of you to ring me here.

I was hoping to surprise them.

I wasn't quite sure what to do.

You see, I've discovered something rather interesting.

You know those medical reports Taranath received?

[Joe] Aye.

Well, he received one, a few days ago.

Why wasn't I sent a copy?

Well, the only copy was sent directly to Lord Ackerman,

on his personal instructions.

All right then.

I'll be in touch.

(Joe sighs)

So you're not a feller, after all.

You shit.

Get out.

Well, we'll talk in my study, shall we?

Now, Joe, let's get down to business, eh?

Come in, Joe.

Do sit down.

Have a brandy?

Thanks.

Digby tells me you're a good judge of wines.

Aye, and I'm learning to eat peas with a fork.

(Clive laughs)

You're worried about Taranath.

Shouldn't I be?

Yes, well, it's most distressing, tragic, really.

That's what that note was about, wasn't it?

Note?

Oh yes, at the boxing, yes, it was.

Why didn't you tell me?

No particular reason.

You didn't know him, after all.

I didn't see much point.

Why did he do it?

Nobody seems to know, do they?

Perhaps because he retired early.

Resigned.

Life can become meaningless without work, you know.

He didn't retire.

He resigned.

Same effect, I daresay.

He resigned because of D-50.

Partly.

What do you mean, partly?

He resigned because he felt that some areas

of decision had been taken away from him,

a groundless complaint, I do assure you.

He wanted more tests on D-50.

This is all water under the bridge, Joe.

- Is it? - You know it is.

That's just the trouble, I don't.

[Clive] There's nothing for you to worry about.

Then why are you still getting those medical reports?

Medical reports?

[Joe] On D-50.

Routine.

[Joe] And why are they being sent to you and not to me?

Procedure.

Your appointment to Chem Export was made

on the strength of your business reputation.

Nobody expects you to make decisions

that require specialised scientific training.

I still want to see that report.

Very well.

I haven't got it here, you know.

Where is it?

You'll have to wait, I'm afraid.

Another brandy?

No.

It was my father's favourite cognac.

He had a very fine palate.

I don't like being kept in the dark.

Nobody's trying to keep you in the dark about anything.

Do have another brandy.

The trouble is I've always mistrusted people like you,

and I find it difficult to change my ways.

Yes, well, I've always disliked brash young men

who push themselves to the top

with all the delicacy of a runaway tank.

But then mutual dislike is often the best basis

for a business partnership.

Don't you think?

Will you be riding Mr. Micawber, tomorrow, Robin?

Yes, I expect so.

It's a divine horse, darling.

Have you seen him?

Not sure.

Do watch your play.

Oh, sorry.

Will you be riding, Mr. Lampton?

Yes, do if you want to.

We've got some gear that'll fit you.

Perhaps he disapproves of hunting.

No, I like being taken for a ride.

Another drink, anyone?

No, not for me, thank you.

No, thanks.

Alex?

Yes, a gin and tonic.

(Sarah chuckles) (Clive groans)

Did you hear about Hemsley's grouse?

Whose what?

Uh, Dick Hemsley.

Ghastly little man.

Property, frightfully nouveau.

Well, he obviously thought he ought to start eating game.

So he went to that place in Sloane Street.

Oh, what's it called?

Bailey's?

Yes, Bailey's.

Anyway, he went to the butcher

and asked them if they had any grouse.

The man looked him straight in the eye and said,

"No, sir, most of our customers shoot their own."

(group laughs)

How do you put up with all this?

It's like playing some parlour game

you grew out of years ago.

Look at 'em, just going through the motions.

I want to stand up and ask them very loudly

if they know that Chu Chin Chow is off

and Stanley Baldwin's dead.

Well, you're not being very friendly, are you?

I thought it was the hostess' duty

to be gracious and hospitable.

I told you to stay away.

Why didn't you?

Self-preservation.

His Lordship's busy, sharpening the long knives.

What's that supposed to mean?

He wants to cut my balls off.

Not the same here, is it?

What?

[Joe] Having me around.

Different in London.

Don't be silly.

Where's Digby?

[Alex] Digby?

You said Tarrant and Digby were comin' up for the weekend.

I don't know.

He, he's been delayed or something.

(men laughing)

(dogs panting)

(engine rumbles)

(dogs barking)

[Clive] Sabre, Kate, come here!

- I'm so sorry I'm late. - You're a bit late, David.

All right, come on in.

[David] Thank you, sir.

[Clive] Now you stay there, boy.

Yeah, it was something to do with the clutch, I think.

Anyway, all's well now.

[Clive] Good.

We'll talk in the study, shall we?

[David] Fine.

What time did Lampton arrive?

Much later than we expected.

We were having dinner, as a matter of fact.

Well, we'll go and have a drink, shall we, David?

(suspenseful music)

(solemn music)

(suspenseful music)

(door creaks) (dramatic music)

(footsteps clatter)

(tense music)

(door clacks) (solemn music)

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic music)

What are you doing?

What the hell do you think you're doing?

I told you, self-preservation.

That's Clive's.

What are you doing with Clive's...

He's been a very naughty boy, your old fella,

up to no good.

What are you talking about?

D-50, I think he put it into production

before all the lab tests were completed.

He'd never do a thing like that.

(scoffs) I think he had to.

Why?

Money!

Five African countries were prepared to buy that drug.

Now that adds up to an awful lot of cash.

Now supposing they were made to wait,

supposing there was a delay, what would happen then?

There are always plenty of other people doing the same kind

of research, and they're never far behind.

Taranath saw this report and killed himself.

A copy was sent to your husband.

He gave it to Digby.

Digby?

For an expert opinion.

He's a lawyer not a scientist.

All right then, an expert legal opinion,

to see who's liable for what and so on.

Well, that's for Clive to worry about.

Look, I'm the one that got D-50 into production.

Dear Clive made sure of that.

It's my name on the contract, my head on the block.

You're just guessing.

Oh, I may not be clever, but I'm quite sharp.

What does it say?

It says Joe Lampton has been framed, almost.

Go on then.

(Alex gasping)

No, no, Joe, no, Joe, please.

The door's not locked.

[Joe] So?

Suppose Clive came in?

Or Robin.

Or both.

(Alex sighs)

(bodies thud) (Alex gasps)

(birds squawking)

(tongue clicks)

(insects buzzing)

Lost something?

The process is called mucking out.

I thought you may have noticed your briefcase is missing.

I'll pay for the lock to be repaired, don't worry.

I may not know much about pharmaceuticals,

but the message was fairly clear.

There are things you don't understand.

I understand it makes women sterile.

Not anymore, D-50 is now perfectly safe

without any side effects whatsoever.

Presumably Taranath knew.

That's why he wanted more tests.

He didn't know.

Nobody knew.

Then he killed himself

when he was proved right, poor sod.

Listen, Joe, three things,

one, the drug is now safe.

Two, only a comparatively few women were affected.

1,000 women in one country alone.

In a remote part of Africa

where overpopulation is a major problem anyway.

Thirdly?

Don't try and be too emphatic.

None of us can afford the luxury

of an unblemished conscience.

And remember, anyone who sets himself up

above the rest tends to make an excellent target.

Oh.

In other words, know your place, Sonny Jim.

It's not the money.

That doesn't matter.

I can't afford a political upset, you see.

I can't afford to antagonise the self-righteous brigade.

Everything is going my way, at the moment.

The prospects are excellent.

All I ask is loyalty.

Stop treating my arm like a chorus boy's arse.

You common little lout.

Oh, common, I may be.

Lout, I may be.

But I'm nobody's fool.

I wondered why my appointment was pushed through so quickly.

Well, now I know.

Hard luck, old chap.

You picked the wrong sucker.

Nobody drops Joe Lampton in it.

not Digby, not Tarrant, not even you.

(Joe sniffs)

You know, for the rest of my days,

that smell will remind me of you.

(insects buzzing)

(dogs barking)

Madam?

Sir?

(horses snorting)

[Clive] Ah, steal a cup for you, Weston.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Weston.

[Billy] Sherry, my lady?

Weston, thank you very much.

(horses snorting) (horses neighing)

[Billy] Nice day.

Uh-huh.

Yes.

(horses snorting)

(hooves clopping)

(hunters chattering)

[Man] Here!

- Sorry, boy! - Here!

[Man] Oi!

[Man] It's not it.

(hunters chattering)

(horses snorting)

When do you think we'll...

Anything happening?

Oh yes.

[Man] You, you!

(horn wails)

(dogs barking)

(hunters yelling) (hooves stomping)

(horse neighs)

[Clive] Hang on!

- Hiya! - Yah!

[Man] Yah!

- Yah! - Oi, hey!

- Hah! - Hiya!

(dogs barking) (horn wailing)

This way.

Over here!

(solemn music)

(horn wailing)

They've lost him.

I knew they would.

Help me down.

(gentle music)

It excites me every time.

(solemn music)

(gentle music)

(Robin grunts)

(solemn music)

(Robin gasping)

(dramatic music)

(horse nickers)

(Robin sighs)

(Robin gasps)

(Robin sighs)

(gentle music)

It isn't a crime, you know.

(dogs barking)

Now you belong to all of us (laughs).

Don't be daft, don't do that.

Hey, come back!

Come back!

(sighs) Jesus wept.

(birds chirping)

(Joe sighs)

(horse neighs)

(hooves clomping)

(horse snorts)

(hunters chattering) (horn wailing)

(dogs barking)

(Joe panting)

(Joe grunts)

(dogs barking)

(Joe panting)

(hooves clomping) (horn wailing)

(Joe grunts)

(hunters yelling)

(Joe panting)

(horn wailing)

(Joe gasping)

(dogs barking)

Well done, Joe, well done.

Wasn't too rough for you, was it?

No, no, of course it wasn't, not for you,

not for Joe Lampton.

You bastard.

You ought to be more careful though.

Hunting accidents can be quite nasty, sometimes,

quite serious, so do learn from experience,

do take my advice.

The lamb to the slaughter.

Not necessarily, but whatever happens,

loyalty will be repaid.

If not?

Oh, don't let's be too pessimistic.

I know your heart's in the right place.

Not only my heart.

Don't think you've won anything, because you've not.

Time will tell.

Oh, you're the hunters.

You make the rules.

But I'm the hunted.

I break 'em.

(horse snorts)

So sod the lot of you.

Up yours.

(horse snorting)

(Joe laughing)

(knocks at door)

Don't do anything foolish, Joe, please.

[Joe] Like what, for instance?

- You know. - Do I?

It's not just Clive.

You'll, you'll be hurting me, too.

Don't I matter?

What about the poor bloody women who took that drug?

Don't they matter?

- Don't I mean anything to... - Oh, so that's it.

That's your function.

- What? - Appeal to his better nature!

Well, hard luck, I haven't got one.

What are you talking about?

You knew what was going on.

You played your part.

What do you mean?

Ask your old man to show you them photographs sometime,

you and Taranath grinning all over that bandstand.

Very nasty business, you know, a bullet through the brain.

Must've taken a long time to clear up the mess.

I didn't know.

I didn't know everything.

You knew.

I didn't know that would happen.

I didn't know you'd be blamed.

Well, it's called taking the rough with the smooth,

a hazard of our trade, love.

Whores can't hope for anything better.

(phone rings)

Hello.

[Announcer] A deep one again, watch...

Joe?

Well, what can I do for...

[Announcer] Oh, it's on the field, it's gone!

And Sunderland...

- Yeah. - The underdogs are

in the lead.

Yeah, well, thanks, Joe.

Thanks for ringing.

[Announcer] Scored in the Cup, this season.

What do you mean?

[Joe] What I say.

If I don't phone him within an hour,

the whole story will be spread all over Fleet Street.

Nobody'd dare print it.

[Joe] Want to bet?

What do you propose?

Well, there's this journalist I know

whose always fancied a well-paid, undemanding PR job.

Perhaps you could help him.

Yes.

And then there's the question of the chief executive.

What chief executive?

Sorry to keep you waiting, Massey.

[Massey] What's the matter?

Oh, all sorts of things.

It's been decided to appoint a chief executive

for the Ackerman Group as a whole.

Fortune smiled.

That means Chem Export will be looking

for a new managing director.

So, your office now.

What if I refuse?

It'd be a shame to lose all those fringe benefits,

especially at your age.

How many kids you got at university?

It's worth thinkin' about.

His Lordship values loyalty.

I wonder what made him hire a dirty little shit like you.

He needs me, that's why.

He can't do without me.

(gun bangs)

(solemn music)

(Joe laughing)

(sombre music)