Original subtitles

Captioning made possible by Acorn Media

All my life, I have made it an absolute rule

never to pass a hitch-hiker at any time of day or night

without giving him or her a lift.

Then, on a pouring-wet evening in September,

just outside Oxford,

I picked up two unhappy-looking young men

who were soaked to the skin.

Both had hair down to their shoulders and bushy beards.

One of them said, as they climbed into the back,

"What a relief. Thank you so much."

Suddenly, I felt the point of a knife pressing into my neck.

"Hey," I said. "Steady on."

"Get out," the knifeman said, "and hurry."

I got out.

They drove off and left me standing in the rain.

Since then, I have never given a lift to any man with long hair

or with a bushy beard.

The hitch-hiker in this story has neither.

[Bicycle bell rings]

DAHL: Paul Duveen had lived in Britain for 15 years.

He was a writer... a successful writer.

He liked living in Cambridge,

and he loved driving rare automobiles.

[Car horn honks]

[Woman sings on radio, then easy listening plays]

[No music on radio]

You wouldn't be going to London, by any chance,

would you, sir?

Sure I would. Hop in.

Uh-huh. Thank you, sir.

Very kind. That's OK.

You're a decent man.

All set?

It's a fine-looking motorcar.

Mm-hmm. Huh.

Brand-new, hmm?

Yeah. Pretty much.

I feel like a 10-year-old kid

with a new toy, you know?

Smells like a thoroughbred.

What part of London you headed for?

Well, I'll be going out through London

out the other side.

Epsom. Mm-hmm.

The races, you know.

Derby day, mister.

Oh, the derby!

Oh, I wish I was going with you!

I'd love to put a bet on the horses.

Oh, I never go betting on horses.

I wouldn't even want to watch them run, sir.

Huh. Why are you going to the derby?

Uh...

Oh, you work the betting machines, do you?

Betting machines?

Oh, no. That's worse again.

No fun there.

Oh, I guess so. I asked the wrong question.

Oh, you can ask any question you like.

In your own domain-like.

But you don't have to reply, huh?

Hmm.

Hey, wait a minute.

Are you one of those, um, buskers?

You know, entertain the crowds,

soft shoe shuffle, stuff like that, eh?

Can you imagine me running around

with a mouth organ?

Or banging me knees with a spoon?

Ha. Well, frankly, I can. Yeah.

Excuse me, mister.

Uh, would you mind letting me out here?

What? Well, listen,

would you just draw in here, please?

What are you talking about?

What did I say?

Thank you. Thank you.

Now, come on. I'm sorry.

No, no, no. I--

Look, I couldn't be bothered riding along

with a fellow that thinks so little of me.

Aw, now, come on. Huh?

I don't think little of you.

No.

I said I was sorry. Yeah.

Well--

Well, look, I really am sorry. Now, listen.

It's none of my business. I won't ask any more questions.

OK? [Car passes]

We--No, really.

I remember when I used to hitch-hike.

You know, I couldn't stand being cross-examined.

"Who are you? What do you do?

Where are you from?" You know.

I won't ask anymore questions.

You see, the trouble is I'm a writer.

And you know how writers pry, right?

It's just, I'm curious about people, OK?

Uh, a nosey parker.

Isn't that what the British call it?

Oh, I wouldn't know.

I'm from Donegal.

See, I'm no expert in the language

of Cromwell.

OK. Excuse me, just--

But did you say a writer, are you?

Well, yeah. I write books.

Oh, aye.

Anyway, I apologize again. I'll--

Just a minute, now. Ha. [Sighs]

No. Let's--

I--I accept your apology.

Oh, I'm glad. Hmm.

You say you write books?

Yeah.

You know, that's a skilled trade.

Oh, thank you. Of course,

mine's a skilled trade, too.

You know, I always say that

the whole secret of life is to get to be

very, very good at something

that's very, very hard to do.

[Chuckles]

Yeah. You've accomplished that, have you?

Uh, aye. Well, I'd say I had. Yes.

Like yourself, sir. Uh-huh.

70. Nice, huh?

Yeah.

It must have cost you a tidy bit,

this motorcar, huh?

It wasn't cheap.

Driving a good car-- my one indulgence, I guess.

Cut her--I mean, what would she be

capable of, now?

I mean, how many revolutions per minute

flat out? This?

129 to make its claim. 129 miles an hour.

Aw, you'd never believe that for a yarn, would you?

Sure she will.

They make a beautiful machine, these people.

Look at that. Heh.

129 miles an h-- Ah, she'd never do that.

No. I know. No, no.

I'll bet you anything you like

she wouldn't.

Well, I bet she will.

Aw, no. Not at all.

All these car manufacturers.

They're all bloody liars,

every one of them.

And I'm surprised, you know.

A smart fellow like you,

you know, believing all that jazz.

Well, in this instance, I do.

Do you? Yeah.

Yeah, well, prove it.

I dare ya. Do ya?

Aye.

Fasten your seat belt.

Aye.

With pleasure, mister. With pleasure.

Ah, that's beautiful. Beautiful.

You all set? All beautiful.

Oh! Oh!

Eh. 100.

[Stammers]

She's hit it.

110...115...go. Go on, go on.

Keep going. Keep going.

Plenty more where that came from.

[Honking horn]

[Chuckles] 120...

125.

Oh, 12-- [Speaking Gaelic]

What?

Oh, that's Irish. God bless the world.

Oh, no! Yeah. Yeah. What?

Oh, look. Aw, shit.

Ah, no. No, no, keep going.

Keep going. You can lose him.

Of course you can lose him.

Oh...

Oh, I don't know.

I give up.

You could have--

DUVEEN: Why did I ever listen to you?

Why?

Well, because you're a good gambler, sir.

That's why. You're a good gambler.

Didn't know a motorcycle cop could do 110.

Oh, he could. Just so. He could, indeed.

You see, his motorbike is

the same make as your motorcar.

Only it fizzles out at 112.

If you'd have kept going,

you'd have been OK.

Look at him.

This is real trouble.

Yeah. Ah, well, sir.

It's only your first offense,

isn't that right?

Oh, oh. He's a real mean-looking devil.

Want to watch out.

[Man hums]

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.

Oh, sorry.

What's your hurry?

No hurry, officer.

You mean you don't have a lady in the back

who's having a baby?

No. Obviously not.

But your house is on fire,

and you're dashing home

to rescue your family, eh?

No.

Then perhaps you're carrying

urgent medical supplies to a hospital, perhaps.

No.

I see.

You hold a current British driving license?

Oh, sure I do, officer. Yeah.

It's just that you sound American to me...sir.

Well, I am. [Chuckles]

Perhaps you can claim diplomatic immunity.

Ha ha ha ha! N-no. Heh.

I wish I could.

Then I'm not wasting my time, am I?

You are aware of the speed limit

in this country, of course?

[Thunder]

70.

Of course.

Do you mind telling me what speed

you were doing just now?

W-well, I was a little over that, I know.

That's putting it politely, sir.

I passed you at 112 miles an hour.

[Stammers] 1-1-2.

And that's not a speed I care to drive at, sir.

Except in the course of duty, that is.

Do you mind getting out your vehicle, sir?

What?

I must caution you, sir, that anything you say

may be taken down--

and used in evidence against me. I know.

Yeah.

Could I see your driving license, sir?

Oh, sure, officer. Yeah.

That's funny.

Uh, mister.

Ooh! You left it in the glove department.

Here. Take it, sir. Quick.

Don't know what I'm doing.

Ha. Right, sir.

I do hate these little plastic envelopes.

Yeah.

Well, well, well. Two convictions already.

And one of them's an SB-60.

You make a habit of exceeding the speed--

That was--that was a couple of years ago.

Well, you're gonna lose your license for 12 months.

You know that, don't you?

That's up to the magistrate, isn't it?

Not with two endorsements already; it's automatic.

Not to mention, this third offense took place

on a motorway.

Now, we do take a very firm line about excess speeds

on a motorway.

The last bloke I booked on this same stretch of motorway

got 5.20 pounds for every mile he was over the speed limit.

No kidding.

Now, you were 42 miles over the limit.

You can work that out for yourself.

Well, it's well over �800, huh?

Right.

Could I have your full name, sir?

Uh, Duveen.

Paul.

George.

Thank you, sir.

Now you. Who are you?

Well, he's all right. I picked him up.

He's hitch-hiking; he's got nothing to do with this.

I didn't ask you.

Well, what have-- what have I done?

You're a witness, if nothing else.

Out you get.

[Chuckles]

You're a hard man, mister.

You know that? You're a hard man.

Look, I don't see what all the fuss is.

I do my job, sir. Aye.

Why don't you get back in your vehicle, sir.

Recover your breath, as it were.

This won't take a minute.

All right. Let's have your full name.

Michael O'Brien Fish.

Address?

14 Gladstone Road. Royston.

Occupation?

Unemployed.

Herder.

Hog courier.

Don't get funny with me.

I'm not getting funny with you.

That's the truth. I'm on the welfare.

You've only got to ask.

Oh, I shall. I'm gonna check you out.

Shall I--Look, I've done nothing.

What have I done? [Stammers]

I just don't like your face, that's all.

You bloomin' person.

We must have a record of it on file somewhere.

Well, I don't like your attitude. No.

It's most-- most insulting.

Now, here am I just getting a lift

from this nice, kind gentleman.

Excuse me, mister. Are you--

All right. Enough said.

Listen, don't you lay a hand on me.

If you--Look, don't you lay a hand on me.

In you get!

You saw that, didn't you?

No, that constitutes an assault.

So I'm reporting you, boy.

I am going to report you.

Aye. Are you?

And this gentleman is my witness.

Wrong. You are my witness

to a very serious offense.

Oh.

I'll see you both in court.

Good morning.

Well, there he goes now.

Mean as a knacker's yard, a regular--shit.

A regular peacock.

DUVEEN: �800 and a suspended license for a year.

Thought this was gonna be a good day.

And you, with two endorsements already.

Oh, that's bad. No, that's bad.

My license.

Did I really leave it in the glove compartment?

Did I?

Well, I think you must have.

I think you must have.

[Starts engine]

Uh, tell us, what are you thinking of doing now?

I'm thinking of getting off this cop-infested motorway

and finding us a place to dry off.

Oh.

[Sighs] Well...

Better luck next time, old fella.

Yeah.

Why don't you take your wet coat off.

No, no. That's all right.

You know, I told him a bit of a lie.

Darn policeman.

'Cause I'm not unemployed.

I'm going to be very busy this afternoon

and tomorrow, too.

Ah, yeah. That's right.

At the derby.

You writer fellas.

You're such a pack of nosy parkers, you know that?

You know, I know you'll never be satisfied

till I come out with what I do.

Isn't that so?

Not really. It's up to you.

Go on.

You're just itching to know.

Nah. Can tell by the look on your face.

Not--not really.

Look, drink up and let's get out of here.

Come on. We're dry.

[Stammers]

You're in a desperate hurry.

Doesn't pay to hurry, you know.

No, it doesn't.

That's why I'm gonna drive very, very slow.

Now, come on. Come on.

Hold hard, now. Hold hard.

You're not drunk, are you?

On two whiskies?

Irish. English measures.

[Sighs]

Oh, boy.

Lord only knows what my wife's gonna say.

That was quick.

Ah, you noticed it, did you?

Well, sure I did. That's fascinating.

I never saw anybody roll a cigarette that fast.

Fingers. Uh-huh.

Yeah, uh-huh. I know the joke.

Fish fingers.

Look, you see them fingers there. Huh?

You wouldn't think it to look at them,

but there the quickest, thickest fingers

you ever seen in your life, boy.

Are you a concert pianist?

My job's 100 times more difficult

than piano playing.

Any fool can learn the piano.

Well, I can tell you, not 1 in 10 million

can learn to do what I do.

I'm telling you, boy.

You've been telling me. I heard you.

Oh, I'm telling you, boy.

I got it.

You're a kind of amateur magician.

[Chuckles]

You're a card player, aren't you?

You're a card shark, eh?

Now I know you're insulting me.

All right, then I give up.

Ever seen this before? Hmm.

Looks the same as mine. Where'd you get that?

Uh...

Took it off the top of your trousers.

Heh. You took that off me while I was driving?

Uh, why wouldn't I?

You undid the buckle, and you slid it through

all the loops while we were driving?

[Scoffs]

Uh...

Well, seeing's believing.

Hmm.

What about this, then?

What about it?

Is anyone around here missing a shoelace,

I wonder.

Did you mind that time that I missed me step

coming out of the pub-like?

Yeah, I remember. I didn't see anything.

Ah, well, no, I know you didn't.

Well, you weren't-- you weren't meant to.

Just--it's fingers, you know.

Fingers. All from the fingers.

Hmm. What's the time now? What's the time?

The clock's right there in front of you!

Ah, no. I hate them car clocks.

No, I like to get the right time,

you know, off a decent gold watch.

Like this, now.

Isn't that a beauty, huh?

Isn't that a beauty?

Do you know what, you could flog that

anywhere, couldn't you? Fish!

Put the watch down!

Aye.

Hey.

What are you stopping for?

What else have you got of mine?

A joke's a joke. Come on. What else have you got?

Look, I'm only answering your question, mister.

You asked me what I did for a living,

and here I am-- I'm showing you.

What else have you got of mine?

Are you a policeman?

I'm not a policeman, but if you don't show me

what--

Special delivery.

OK, now get out.

Out? Me? Out?

You. Out.

Out. I don't give rides to pickpockets.

If you want to know, I'm a fingersmith.

A what?

A finger--a professional fingersmith.

You know, like a goldsmith

or a silversmith.

And I can tell you I follow my own

professional code of honor.

I always gives back items of no use to me.

Oh, you mean, you're Robin Hood working

the racetrack?

Look, I--I know what you must be feeling, mister.

'Cause it wasn't a very good morning

for you, was it?

Well, it's still out. Come on. Fingersmith.

I mean, what with me making you go over

the speed limit and the police and all.

And now you're disapproving of my vocation-like.

Exactly. Now, get out!

[Stammers] Out. Out, I said.

That's--oh, dear. Isn't that...?

Very funny.

I couldn't resist it. Out!

That's no fun, there.

You know, you're--

Would you give me me hat, please?

Here.

You know, you're a hard man, mister.

You're worse than darn policeman.

Yeah, and he's checking on you right now.

Oh, no, no.

Nobody's checking on me, mister.

He's got your name and address, Fish.

Uh...

He wrote it all down in his little black book.

Aye, well, wait till you see, now.

What about this, sir? [Clears throat]

"Michael O'Brien Fish. 14 Gladstone Road.

Royston. Unemployed." Them's my particulars.

Now here's your particulars, you see.

"When cautioned, Mr. Duveen replied..."

You took that from a cop?

Oh, it was easy. It was dead easy.

Good Lord.

But he'll remember our names, registration numbers...

Ah, no, no.

He won't remember it because he wrote it down.

You see, he won't remember because

he didn't think he'd have to.

Now do you see?

I--I don't know.

Ah, well, I do.

'Cause I've been booked before, you see,

and I always took the wee book.

Never heard a word after.

Well, I'll tell you what now, I think

the two of us should get out here,

and we build a wee bonfire and burn

all them things.

And then after-like, if you insist,

I'll walk, you know.

Oh, no, no. No, no no.

If you want, I'll walk. I don't mind.

Really. Ha ha. No. R-right. Right.

Bonfire.

[Duveen laughs]

Brilliant, Fish. Brilliant.

Yeah. How, you know, it's nice to be appreciated.

Well, that's... All right. Ha ha.

Hey, Fish. Yeah.

Wh-what if it doesn't burn?

I mean, it's starting to rain again.

Yes, but if you could get just a few dry twigs.

Dry twigs. Dry...

[Bicycle bell rings]

Dry twigs.

[Chuckles]

That...

[Cries]

He couldn't resist it.

[Crying]

Captioning made possible by Acorn Media

Captioned by the National Captioning Institute

--www.ncicap.org--