All language subtitles for Up.the.Junction.1968.1080p.BluRay.x264-FUTURiSTiC.English.SDH

Good morning, miss.

SYLVIE: Here, Mum, lend us some
money till the end of the week, will you?

- What did you do with the last lot?
- Well, I've spent it, haven't I?

Well, give it back by Friday, anyway.

- RUBE: That's nice, innit?
- What do you do with your money?

Well, I'll give you back 10 bob.

- Bye, Mum.
- Bye, Mum.

(WHISTLE BLOWING)

(WHISTLE BLOWING)

Excuse me.

I…

I came to enquire after work.

You what?

A job.

I'll fetch the boss.

(TRAIN RUMBLING)

I was looking for work.

- Work?
- Yes.

- How old are you?
- Twenty-one.

Right, you'll get two and five an hour.
Hours 8:00 to 6:00.

- Do you want to start right away?
- Fine.

- All right. Give us your cards, then.
- Cards?

Your insurance cards.

I haven't got any card.

That makes no odds.
Get some Saturday.

- What's your name, then?
- Polly. Polly Dean.

Right-o, Sheilah, take her around.

Here you are.

- Have you worked here long?
- Nearly five years.

Keep saying I'm going to leave,
but I never do.

All set?

- This is your locker, right?
- Fine.

(WOMEN SINGING)

Start you off on the packing.
You'll soon pick it up.

Show her how to work it, will you, Edie?

Right.

- What's your name, love?
- Polly.

Right, Poll, watch careful.

Six in a box. Two, four, six.

A bit of tape.

Belt. Right? Off you go.

(WOMEN LAUGHING)

Dirty, old thing.

Oi, girls, anyone lend me
their husband for the weekend?

Yeah, you can have mine,
he's a dirty, old sod, on the quiet.

I'd let you have mine,
but it wouldn't be much good to you.

Send him.

Send him along, you know where I live,
just by the church.

(EDITH SPITTING)

- Are you all right?
- Got the catarrh.

Get it every summer. It's this place.

Used to be a laundry, you know.
That's why it's so damp.

Can't heat it.

They can't heat this place.
You see, it'd melt the chocolate.

- Are you allowed to eat any?
- You can if you don't get caught.

- Is that all right?
- Right.

Here, Joyce,
when are you getting married?

- Next month when I'm 16.
- Bit young, ain't you?

No use waiting till you're an old crab,
is there?

Here, you got your trousseau ready yet?

- Eh? Have you?
- No.

- You gonna wear your pink pyjamas?
- No, me birthday suit.

Hear that?
Joyce is gonna have a naked ball.

Here, don't be filthy.

It's nice though, innit? Filth?

Never mind, Joyce. It's smashing.

(ALL LAUGHING)

MAY: How do you like them, love?
Fair or dark?

It ain't their hair I'm interested in.

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

I nearly married a soldier.
I went with him two years,

then he showed me this letter
he had from a girl in the ATS.

Said it was just playing about.

But if they do it before marriage
they'll do it after,

so I told him I was through with him.

He cried like a baby.

I saw him once in Woolworths
when I was carrying me last child.

I had such a lump in me throat
I couldn't say nothing,

and I had to run out.

Me name would have been
Mrs Stacey now,

instead of Mrs Smith.

RITA: You can never trust them, love.

They always say the married ones
are the dirty ones.

You are so right, darling.

You know my husband, Ted,

well, I'd always know
when he was going out with a bird.

You know why?
He'd have his hair done. Straight-up.

He'd have a blow-wave put on it,
lacquer on it.

He'd come home,
lie on the bed, say to me,

"Don't you dare touch it, see." Like that.

Then he'd have a wash, use my talc,

my deodorant,
get me to scrub his back for him,

and all the time he's trying
to keep me chained to the telly.

Well, I always say
it's not what you are doing,

it's what you're caught doing.

- ALL: Yeah. Right.
- Yeah.

- Got a fag?
- Oh, God, smoke your own.

- Oh, go on.
- Oh, God.

- Here, who's the new girl?
- I don't know.

- She's a bit done up, ain't she?
- She's ever so well-spoken.

Ever so well-spoken.
What's she wanna work here for?

Well, she looks posh to me.

Won't do her much good around here,
will it?

(WHISTLE BLOWING)

(ALL EXCLAIMING)

Excuse me, is there anywhere
I can get something to eat?

Yeah, I'm going over to the caff.
Come with me if you like.

- Oh, thanks.
- It's all right. It's just around the corner.

- You a student, are you?
- No.

You worked in a factory before,
have you?

- No.
- Thought you hadn't.

- Hello, Jack.
- Hello, Sylve.

Here, see him?
His bird's got a bun in the oven.

Four months she was carrying on
with her girlfriend's husband.

Here, hang on while I put me shoes on.

I ain't seen you around here before.

You don't come
from these parts, do you?

Well, not far away. Just over the river.

Chelsea? You must be mad.

- What's your name?
- Polly. Polly Dean.

Mine's Sylvie. Coming?

What you want, then? Egg and chips?

I'll get them.
You save two places, all right?

(SING SONGS OF LOVE PLAYING)

You're not married, are you?

- No, are you?
- Well, I was.

Got married when I was 16.

Expected me to live
in a furnished room in Brixton.

I mean, what can you do in one room?

At least if you have two,
you can walk from one to the other.

He didn't even like me
going cleaning with me mum.

So, then he starts going to the dogs
every Wednesday night, see.

I meet up with this Fred fellow.
Handsome, he was.

Every Wednesday evening
in his 10-ton truck,

waiting on the corner.

In the winter,
he'd leave his engine running

and the heat in that cabin,
and the vibrations.

Here, now, look, I must tell you,
I must tell you.

I'm sitting on the steps, right?

Changing me shoes,
and you know that Fred,

that Indian gink?
Well, he comes up to me.

"Be careful, dear," he says,
"I can see your drawers."

You know how they talk.

"Oh, yeah," I says,
"Well, what colour are they, then?"

"Pink," he says.
"Oh, that's funny," I says,

"'cause I ain't got none on."

Do you know Rube? This is my sister.
Polly comes from Chelsea.

- Oh, you bohemian then?
- No.

- Got a boyfriend, have you?
- Well, no one in particular.

You should've been with the bloke
I was with last night.

That Johnny, back at the bomb site.
Oh, it was terrible

'cause he got so worked up, you see,

that he got this terrible pain
in his stomach.

Says I'm too hot-blooded.

SYLVIE: You all right, then?

Here, you know that Jim?

Told me he'd give me a flat
and £10 a week.

Says he loves me.

"What do you think I am,
some high-class tart?" I says.

You know, he's married. He's had more
girls than he's had hot dinners, he has.

You're not kidding.

Do you reckon you're going
to like it here?

- Oh, yes.
- Really?

- Why?
- Why is that?

This is the life.
All dinner breaks and no work.

What you doing tonight, Rube?

Oh, I got a date with two guys in a van,
but I'm not going.

- Why not?
- Don't feel like it, do I?

- Here. Do you fancy asking her out?
- What?

- Why don't you ask her out?
- No, she wouldn't like it.

- Why not? Go on.
- Well, what are we going to do?

Have a drink. She's all right.

Yeah, but I mean, I don't really think
it's her type of thing

'cause she's all posh, ain't she?

No, not stuck up. Go on, ask her.

- No, you.
- No, you.

Oh, my God.

- I'm going to the pictures, me.
- I fancy the dogs.

Are you doing anything tonight?

No, nothing really.
Just go home, I suppose.

Well, do you want to come out
with me and Sylve for a drink?

- Nothing special.
- Oh, I'd love to.

She says she'd love to.

Hello, darlings.

Tighten your belts, fellas,
look what's just come in.

- What, what?
- Well, three dollies. Look, over there.

- Get them over here.
- Where? Hang about, all right.

Hang about. I'll pull them. I'll pull them.

I say, did you get yours as you came
through the door?

Do you fancy them?

RUBE: They can buy us a beer,
can't they?

Come on, then.

SYLVIE: Here, watch it, love,
you're treading on the sling bag.

- Three browns, please.
- Three browns, Terry.

Don't worry, girls, I'll be back.

- Seen you before, haven't we?
- Might have done.

- You come from Battersea, don't you?
- Yeah, that's right.

Well, we do. She don't, though.
She's from Chelsea.

- Really?
- Yes.

- Lots of money over there.
- Can't buy you love.

No. But it can buy you a bit of the other.

Yeah, it was about 9:00 last night.

I saw the ambulance outside her house,

so I went over and I met
the ambulance man just coming out.

"Is it old Mrs Brown?" I says.

"Yeah," he says,
"she's beyond all human aid."

Oh, my God.

She's been a scrubber
all her life, that one.

Ever since she was 14,
she's worked in that bagwash.

Boiling hot in the summer
and freezing cold in the winter,

I'm surprised
it didn't finish her off sooner.

Anyway, she was paid up
on her insurance.

I mean, it's better
to pay your shilling a week

and know you're going to be
properly buried,

not in with some stranger.

Here, when I go
I'm going to have a horse and cart.

I mean, you get to your grave
too quick in one of them motors.

(SNIFFLING)

If you haven't got a hanky, Edie,
for God's sake,

use the back of your hand.

Here, I had this lodger once
that died in bed.

Trouble was he died
with his mouth open.

So when I goes to lay him out

I tied up his jaw
with a hanky to the bed rail.

When the old man comes in, he says,

"What've you done that for? They'll think
you've bleeding strangled him."

(ALL LAUGHING)

I was up in Hampstead last week.
Was cleaning a flat up there.

We just finished doing the bathroom

and I fancied a bath, you see.
It was beautiful, the bathroom,

all sort of pink tiles,
great like, you know.

So I gets in the bath
and I'm having a marvellous soak

when the woman
whose flat it is comes in.

And the fellas, instead of telling her
I was having a slash or something,

they let her walk
straight in on top of me.

And there I am lying in the bath,
soaking it up,

not a stitch of clothing
on me body, singing…

(SINGING)
Beautiful dreamer, wait unto me

It's Bing Crosby.
Have you heard of Bing Crosby?

Yes.

You ain't as uncultured
as I thought you was.

- What are you doing tomorrow?
- Having a bath.

- Is it your birthday, then?
- Cheeky bugger.

Here, Rube. You and Sylve get on
the mike and give us a belter.

(ALL CLAMOURING)

(ALL CHEERING)

MAN 1: You're regulars.
Come on, don't mess about.

- MAN 2: I want the clean version.
- WOMAN: Come on, then.

(BAND PLAYING UPBEAT MUSIC)

BOTH: (SINGING)
I need your love, baby

I need your love

I can read a book and drift away

Drift away

My mind will wander
where it wants to play

Wants to play

But in reality I always find

Always find

That nine times out of ten
you're on my mind

And I need your love, baby

I need your love

Sometimes I know
that my attention drifts

Attention drifts

My mind's a jigsaw puzzle
Nothing fits

Nothing fits

But when I turn the key
I'm through the door

Through the door

So happy to be in your arms once more

And I need your love, baby

I need your love

Love

Love

Love

Love

Baby, baby

I need your love, baby

I need your love

I dream of Caribbean holidays

Holidays

How I'd enjoy them in so many ways

Many ways

But when I think about you
then I see

Then I see

You're more important
than the sun to me

'Cause I need your love, baby

I need your love

I need your love

(ALL CHEERING)

Encore.

MAN 3: That was marvellous.

POLLY: It was fantastic.

MAN 4:
That one's got a pretty peach, innit?

SYLVIE: You're joking.

- RUBE: You liked it?
- Beautiful, love.

Here, where you going
on your holidays?

I'll go and see me sister.
She lives up in Nottingham.

We go out and we get
blown drunk every night.

We have a lovely time.

- I'd like to get you on me own, later.
- What?

I said, I'd like to get you
on me own, later.

Oh, you're a fast one, ain't you?

I got a lovely bike outside. A Triumph.
Do you want to have a look?

Yeah, all right.

- Here, I'm just going to see his bike.
- His what?

Bike.

- Heard that one before.
- Leave off.

I got a bike, too.

There it is.
What do you think of that, then?

Oh, it's smashing, innit?

- Wanna go for a ride?
- Oh, you safe?

Only when I'm driving.

All right then,
just once around the block.

Oh, shame.
I was going to kidnap you, wasn't I?

(ENGINE ROARING)

Let's have you, then.

Hang on.

(RUBE EXCLAIMING)

I sometimes get the call of nature,
you know.

And when I get the call, I listen.

I mean, I might be a bit wheezy,
but blimey, I'm still living.

What you doing afterwards?
You going to come up the junction?

No, not tonight, love.

You can take us home, though,
if you like.

All right.

- TERRY: Where we going, then?
- We're gonna take them home.

Lovely.

As far as the front door,
you cheeky bugger.

SYLVIE: Here. How do you think
I'm going to get on that?

Come on, cock your leg over.
It's not a Rolls-Royce.

- I'm not ruining me beehive.
- Get on.

Bloody hell. How do you get on it?

Come on, then, get on, it won't bite you.

POLLY: All right. Be nice.

SYLVIE: Here.

- JOHN: Right?
- Yeah.

- All right. You ready?
- Yes.

Here. Let's get off on our own, eh?
While I'm still in the mood.

You'll have to wait till they've all gone.

Tell you what, come back in about
10 minutes. That all right?

Well, I'd better be getting home now.

I'll drive you.

Oh, no, it's all right,
thank you very much.

- Come on.
- No, really, thank you.

- Well, I'm off now, then.
- Yeah, all right, then.

See you at work on Monday, love.

Thank you very much
for a lovely evening.

- Sure.
- Goodbye.

- RUBE: You off, then?
- Yes.

- Ta-ta.
- Ta-ta.

What have I got? BO or something?

JOHN: Told you to have
your hair cut, didn't I?

SYLVIE: He needs more than a barber.
He needs a bleeding plastic surgeon.

RAY: Well, why don't you give me
the address of your one?

He might do a better job this time.

JOHN: He would need to, mate.

- Here, I'm going in.
- Hold on.

No, I'm tired.

Hold on, I only want to kiss you
good night. I don't want to rape you.

Go on, then, but make it quick.

- Oh, come on.
- Eh, how about one for Oxfam?

I told you, didn't I?
Wait till they've all gone.

- Just one.
- All right.

All right.

Here, I'll save you
up till tomorrow, I think.

All right then, I'll meet you at the corner.
We'll go up the Common.

Yeah. You know what your trouble is,
don't you?

- What's that?
- You're sex mad.

- She knows me.
- Come on, Rube.

Are you coming or not?

- Blimey.
- JOHN: See you tomorrow.

- SYLVIE: What?
- See you tomorrow.

Yeah, if you're lucky, you will.

- Bugger off, then.
- JOHN: All right, darling.

I quite fancy him.

Do you know, I've got a feeling

that Terry can do
anything he likes with me.

What you hanging about for?

Oh, I just feel like a bit of fresh air,
don't I?

Dirty cow.

(RUBE LAUGHING)

Rube. Standing outside
with your coat undone,

saying good night. I've told you before.

Can't you bleeding see
I ain't got me coat on, have I?

Anyway, the alley don't belong to you.
It's a public convenience, isn't it?

Here. Ooh! Here, get off.

You went all rough.

Oh, I thought you were trying
to seduce me.

I got carried away, didn't I?

I'll get carried away, if my mum
sees this bite on my neck.

What'll my mum say when she sees
the blood on me teeth?

(RUBE LAUGHING)

(RUBE EXCLAIMING)

Get off. Bloody hell.

(EXCLAIMING)

You cheeky bugger.

Sure. All right. All right.

I know, but listen, Mrs Giuseppe,
not all coloureds are dirty.

No.

That's the Pakistanis. They smell.
At least their cooking does.

Sure, yeah.
All right, all right, no coloureds.

Mrs Giuseppe, still no Irish?

Still no Irish.

Can I help you, madam?

It's lovely.

CREELY: Really? I wouldn't have thought
it was your type of thing myself,

if you understand my meaning.

- No, it's just the thing.
- CREELY: Really?

These old houses, you know, I mean,
I wouldn't swear to the roof.

Might let the damp in.

There might be a touch of dry rot.

Put it this way, it's the blacks what
takes this kind of place as a rule.

Not that I've got anything
against them, mind,

but I've got a lovely property
up by Clapham Common.

How about a nice, span flat, eh?

No, this is perfect.

'Course, I take your point of view.

I mean, it has got
a lot of charm, I suppose.

People do seem to be going
more for the period stuff these days.

- Was you living local before?
- No, just across the river.

I thought so. Chelsea way.

A different world entirely.

Beautiful properties.

- When can I move in?
- Hmm?

When can I move in?

Straight away.
A month's rent in advance, of course.

Good.

Do you think there's any chance
of this becoming a trend?

I mean, Battersea becoming an up area,
as we say in the property world?

- MAN 1: Here, where's Nigel?
- MAN 2: Nigel's up at the ville.

MAN 2: What would you like, sir?
Yes, I've got it here.

- MAN 1: Here, where's Nigel?
- MAN 2: Nigel's up in the ville.

MAN 1: What's he doing?

Nigel's been nicked, ain't he?

- Pound of pears, love?
- EDITH: Yes.

I hope they ain't soft.

Soft? They're about as soft as my head.

Here you are.
Twiggy ain't got a pair like that, love.

- How much?
- Two bob.

- Ta. Where's Nigel, then?
- MAN 2: Up the ville.

God help Nigel.

- Excuse me. A banana, please.
- Yes, ma'am.

- One, madam?
- Yes, please.

Well, don't go mad, will you?

Here, have this one, it's got a zip.
Eight pence.

- Eight pence?
- Well, it's the squeeze, ain't it, love?

There you are, madam.
All nicely wrapped for you.

- Thank you.
- Thank you. What's he doing, then?

- MAN 2: Twenty-one months.
- God, poor sod.

(LAUGHING)

- What is the ville?
- Eh, madam?

- What's the ville?
- The ville, madam?

Oh, that's the prison, madam,
where they send all the naughty boys.

Come on, then, King Edwards,
10 for a pound then.

- WOMAN: Have you got the Beatles?
- MAN 3: I've got the Beatles all over me.

Don't worry about that.
There's the Beatles.

Look, do you want me to try it?

- WOMAN: Yes, could you try it.
- Honestly, I keep telling you,

what's the matter with you?

This ain't a café, love.

- Charlie?
- Hello.

She wouldn't sell.

What do you mean, "She wouldn't sell"?
Look, did you offer her a good price?

Of course I did.
What is this, dinnertime?

There's another one out there,
scoffing on the pavement.

What are you talking about?

There's a bird sitting on one
of your chairs, eating a banana.

On one of my chairs?

Oi. Come on,
this ain't no Joe Lyons, you know.

Oh, I am sorry.
I was waiting for someone to serve me.

I see, miss.
Oh, well, what can I do for you?

Well, I'd like some furniture, please.

You've come to the right place, miss.
If you'd like to come into the shop.

- May I?
- Oh, yes.

Ta.

Here's some. Here you are.
I've got just the thing for you, miss, eh?

Genuine antique. You couldn't get that

for love nor money
down the Portobello Road.

It's hand-carved.

Here you are. Look, have a feel. Go on.

Here, there's not many of them about.

Well, I was looking for chairs.
Something ordinary and plain.

Oh, yes. Well, how about this?

Is this ordinary enough for you?

But that's the real McCoy there.
Oh, you're lucky to find that here.

We generally get them
snapped up, you know.

I mean, your type of person,
you know what I mean?

Someone who appreciates it.

No, I… No, I don't think so.

- No?
- No.

- Let's see.
- There's a lot of stuff at the back.

Well, I bought a lot of gear last week.
It's in the yard.

I can't take a customer out in the yard.

Oh, I'd like to see it.

Yeah, well, come on, then.

Here we are.

What's that?

- Oh, that, it's a chair.
- Yes. I'll take that.

The chair.

Come here, come on. Here.

- Come on, pussy. Oh, is he yours?
- Yeah.

Oh, he's lovely.

- You can have him if you like.
- Oh, no, I couldn't.

Oh, go on, take him.

- Oh, that's very kind of you.
- Pleasure.

- Was there anything else, miss?
- No, thank you, just the chair.

Oh, well, if you'd like to come back
in the shop.

- Yes.
- Right.

Oi, what's all this about cats?

You can't stand the sight of them.

Leave off.
I'll take this up in the van, okay?

Yeah, you do that.

How much is the sofa?

The sofa?

Well, now, it's quite a nice
piece of work, this.

Not too pretentious.
Comes from a good home, you see.

Well, see, it needs a bit of covering,
the springs are in good shape…

£4.10

I'll take it.

The sofa.

- To go back to your place?
- Please. Thank you.

- You got a car?
- No.

- Do you want a lift?
- Please.

- Right.
- CHARLIE: Well, now, then…

£4.10 and 30 bob the chair. All right?

30 bob.

Oh, well, let's say 25,
and that's a bargain.

- All right, done.
- Right. Ta.

Six quid, right?

It's five bob change, innit?

Here we are, love.

Thank you.

Always getting fresh stuff in.
Drop in any time you're passing.

- A pleasure to do business.
- All right, fine.

- Thank you.
- Ready for off?

- Yes. Bye-bye.
- Bye-bye.

- Well, where to?
- Ingrave Street.

- Local, you mean?
- Yes.

- Do you come from Battersea?
- I've just moved.

Well, Ingrave Street it is, then.

What's its name?

Well, I never got around
to giving him one, like.

- What's your name?
- Peter.

Well, I shall call it Pete.

- What's your name, then?
- Polly.

Well, how do you do, Polly?

- Do you need any help?
- What?

- Do you need any help?
- No, that's all right.

- Would you like a cup of tea?
- What?

- A cup of tea?
- Oh, yes, please.

Would you like something?

How about some milk?

There.

Where do you want it?

If you could just put it there,
just for the moment.

Thank you very much.

Just moved in?

- Yes. Do you like it?
- Yeah.

- Do you want a cigarette?
- Oh, thank you.

- It's the wrong way.
- Pardon?

Oh.

Thank you.

Oh, I'll go and get the tea.

Here, don't mind me asking,
but what made you come to Battersea?

Well, I like it.

Why, what makes you ask?

Well, it just seems funny
for a girl like you.

Like me?

Yeah. Well, you don't
seem the type, I mean…

I see you in Belgravia
or somewhere like that.

Why are you so sure?

It ain't hard, you know.

You don't look like
you come from the backstreets.

Do you?

- Sugar?
- Yeah, two, please.

Ta.

- Don't you like it in Battersea?
- Oh, I'm mad about it.

- Do you live… Sorry.
- This… Sorry.

- Do you live here all on your own?
- Yes.

Bit risky, isn't it? It's none too tasty
around here, you know.

Still, if you ever want any help,

you know,
if you ever get into any bother…

Do you think I will?

Look, I'd better go back to work.
Thanks.

Oh, just a moment…

It's very kind of you.
Thank you for the kitten.

- And for all your trouble.
- Oh, think nothing of it.

- Well, see you, then. Ta-ta.
- Bye. Thank you.

Do you fancy coming out with me,
would you?

Tonight?

Yes.

Great.

(HUMMING)

Great!

Hello, darling.

SYLVIE: Yeah?

Oh, my God. I didn't recognise you.
What you done to your hair?

- It's nice.
- God's truth, who the hell's that?

How do I bloody know?
I'm not outside the door, am I?

- I hope it's no one coming in here.
- Here, look what the cat's brought in.

- RUBE: Oh, hello, love.
- Hello.

You've had your hair done all different.

POLLY: Yes, do you like it?

Yeah. It's nice.

Oh. I bought those for you,
Mrs Macarthy.

Oh, well, they're lovely.

I'll go and put them in water.

What you been up to, then?

- I've got a new flat.
- Have you?

Oh, that's nice, innit? Where's that?

- Well, it's just around the corner.
- RUBE: That's handy, isn't it, Sylve?

- SYLVIE: What, love?
- Handy.

Oh, it's handy, yeah.

- Can we see it?
- Whenever you like.

- Go around there now, can't we?
- All right.

Come on, ugly.

Here, now, hold on. 'Cause I got
to leave it on for 15 minutes.

SYLVIE: Here, see that fella?
June went with him

and he made her get in the back
of his 10-ton truck,

and he wouldn't let her out
until she gave in.

Charming, it was.

RUBE: Here, see him over there?
Well, he had it off with Patsy Chubb,

twice, while his wife was still carrying.

Yeah, Sylvie was thinking of going
and telling her, weren't you, Sylve?

- Here, you shouldn't do that.
- Why not?

She's got a right to know, hasn't she?

Well, I mean, it'd only upset her,
wouldn't it? What's the point?

Oh, you wouldn't understand, mate.

If you was married and your man
went off, it wouldn't matter, would it?

Her, she got nothing.
She'd have to go on National Assistance

and then she'd starve.

Nobody's going to help her, mate.

Well, what do you think?

It's very nice.

What's wrong?

Oh, nothing.

Why didn't you get yourself
a nice three-piece suite then,

up at Hastings?

- Well, don't you like it?
- Oh, yeah, it's very nice.

You know, if you like
this sort of old-fashioned stuff.

I mean…

I mean, we threw junk like this out
donkey's years ago.

Me mum liked it.
But, you know, we went modern more.

What do you think, Rube?

Yeah, well, I'm like Sylve, you know.
I like the modern sort of thing.

Still, it's a free country, innit?

Well, I like it.

And at least it's mine.
Would you like some tea?

SYLVIE: Oh, yeah, that'd be nice.

I mean, look at it.
Well, I'm terrified of sitting on anything.

I mean, you don't know where it's been.
It must be crawling alive with bugs.

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

Here, Poll, why don't you get yourself
a decent bit of furniture?

POLLY: What? On the money
I get from the Crindles?

Oh, come off it, love.
You must be worth a bit, ain't you?

- POLLY: But that's not the point, is it?
- She's a nutter.

Here's a nice bit of tea.

Here, Sylvie bought
a fabulous two-piece,

only a pound down. Where was it?
Cut-price shop around the corner.

SYLVIE: And do you know what?

I didn't have to pay
any more money on it, either.

- How come?
- Well… Well, you see,

when they sent her this letter
demanding more money,

she rings up, you see, she says,
"I'm Miss Macarthy's mum,

"and I'm afraid they've taken her
away to a mental home, you see."

So they says, "Oh, yeah?"
They send her a little red note

saying they're going to put it
in the hands of the solicitor.

So she phones up again and she says,

"Oh, it is sad 'cause I'm afraid
Miss Macarthy's just passed away,

"so please don't bother
sending no more letters."

I found a new boyfriend.
He's taking me out tonight.

What's he like?

- He's very good-looking.
- Come from Chelsea, does he?

No. Comes from Battersea.
Met him this afternoon.

- Oh, what's his name?
- Peter.

- Peter.
- Short, black, curly hair?

No. Straight, fair.

He gave me a kitten.

You, you'd better
get it doctored, you know, if it's a tom.

It'd go mad around here otherwise.

Poor little Tom.

(ALL LAUGHING)

Oh, hello, Peter.
This is Sylvie, Rube. Peter.

- Evening, all.
- Hello.

Hello.

SYLVIE: Shut up.
Here, come on, we'd better go.

- SYLVIE: I'll leave you two on your tod.
- Oh, don't go.

- We've got a date.
- Yeah, we've got a date.

Well, don't do anything I wouldn't do.

- Well, that leaves her plenty of scope.
- Plenty of scope.

I won't be a minute.

(SYLVIE AND RUBE LAUGHING)

- Here, what are you laughing at?
- RUBE: That was mad.

Cheerio.

- I'll just wash these up, all right?
- Yeah, fine.

Who were they?

Friends of mine.
I work with them at the factory.

Oh.

Here, I thought we might
go to the pictures tonight.

- Oh, lovely. Where?
- Probably West End.

Hmm.

Well, would you prefer to go
to a discotheque?

- Local?
- Of course not. Up at Kensington.

Hmm.

Well, we could do…

Well, couldn't we go somewhere
in Battersea?

What, on a Saturday night?
It's all pubs and singing and dancing.

- No, not pubs.
- Well, there's nothing else.

Well…

I haven't… You know,
I haven't been here very long and I…

I don't know the place.
I'd love to just walk around the streets.

Just walk around.

- Well, if that's what you want to do.
- Yeah.

Just the streets, you mean?
Just walk around?

It'd be lovely.

Yeah, all right, if that's what you want.

- I like your hair.
- Pardon?

- I like your hair.
- Oh, thank you.

POLLY:
Don't you think that's very beautiful?

- PETER: No, not really.
- Well, what do you find beautiful?

I don't know, lots of things. Not
too many of them around here, though.

- POLLY: Oh, there is, if you look.
- I'm looking.

Well, what do you see?

Poxy, little houses.

Some mum in bed, steel rods in her hair
and false teeth in a glass.

Her old man is snoring,
he's been out on a booze.

Every time a train goes by,
it rattles the house.

The old man starts coughing.
Out of bed and spit it in the pot.

A kid'll scream further down the road.

Someone further down having
a row with his missus,

calling her every name under the sun.

Up in the morning at 6:00, go to work.
Day in and day out.

Getting behind
on instalments for the telly.

Two weeks at Ramsgate once a year,

and a wooden box at the end of it.

You're the only beautiful thing
around here, princess.

Come here,
I want to show you something.

Come on, it's all right.

This used to be my bedroom.

What's that?

That's an Aston Martin.
Now, that is beautiful.

- What would you do with it?
- Drive you around in it all day.

Oh, what's that?

I cut that out of a magazine years ago.

It's a castle in Ireland.

I used to imagine I lived in it
all on me own.

- Wouldn't it be cold?
- I had central heating.

With servants waiting on me
hand and foot.

And I'd just drive
the Aston around all day.

Do you ever dream like that?

- Sometimes.
- What about?

- Oh, just fairy stories.
- Like what?

Well, like being happy.

Just simple things, really.

Like talking to you.

What made you
really come to Battersea, Polly?

Freedom, I suppose.

Freedom?

Come to Battersea for freedom?
Get more freedom in Wandsworth Jail.

You're free to go without, that's all.

No, you're free to… Well…

Well, you don't have hypocrisy.

I mean, nothing's all ironed out like…
Like where I come from.

People say what they feel.
If they're angry, they shout.

It's not all repressed or hysterical.

It's more real, more natural.

You're free to be yourself.

Well, what am I?

A working-class boy
with two shillings in me pocket.

If I want to be alone,
I have to come to a place like this.

It's ugly.

I want it clean and beautiful.

Sun, beautiful beaches,

and we could lie on a raft in the sea,

watch the fishes
swimming about, it's so clear.

Instead, we're in a poxy house
up for demolition.

I don't mind, Peter.

I've never been with anyone
like you before.

I mean, I can talk to you,
but I'm still nervous,

if you know what I mean.

So am I.

Are you?

- Here, you're not cold, are you?
- No.

- Do you want to sit down?
- Thank you.

You probably think I'm a bit
on the slow side, don't you?

I mean, with an ordinary girl,
I'd just say, "Come here,"

but I fancied you, you know,
as soon as I saw you.

Why don't you look at me?

Do me a favour, will you?

Seduce me.

SHEILAH: Tea up!

I said to Arthur, when I die,
bury me with me drawers on,

and he said, "Whoever do you think
is going to take liberties with you?"

(ALL LAUGHING)

Are you afraid of dying, Sylve?

No. You can't get hurt
when you're dead, can you?

- Here you are, love.
- Ta.

(EXCLAIMING)

- Here.
- Cor,

this tea is vile. What did you put in it?

I don't put anything in it.
I just wheel it along.

SYLVIE: Well, wheel something worth
drinking, darling. It's horrible.

(ALL CLAMOURING)

Here, look at that.
A full packet of cigs in the bottom.

Anybody seen my cigs?

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

You ought to join the Army in that outfit.

Here, Sheilah.
Tell you what, we'll cut the sleeves off.

It'll look much better.

Come on, darling.
You're gonna look sexy

when I've finished cutting this sleeve off.
You're gonna look so lovely.

Come here, then. Look. Flesh. Flesh.

It's gonna look lovely.

Who's going to look sexy, then?
Who's going to look sexy?

You are, ain't you?
Nearly got it off, don't I?

Come on, darling, turn around.
We'll do the other one.

It's gonna look nice.
It's gonna look so lovely.

- PAULINE: Oh, fantastic.
- Now, she's ready for the jazz-band ball,

aren't you, darling?

Here, Sheilah, I can see the scruff
under your arm.

Don't be rotten. Come on, darling,

I'll give you a low back,
it'll look smashing.

You've given her enough bother, okay?
Leave her alone.

PAULINE: Bloody hell.

Come on. Back to work, you lot.

- SYLVIE: Here, Rube, what's the matter?
- PAULINE: Here, what's up?

RITA: Is she all right?

FIGGINS: Come on, I thought I told you
all to get back to work.

- What's been going on here?
- Well, she got overcome. She fainted.

- Well, come on, give her some air, then.
- Here, get her a glass of water.

What is it, love?

- Oh, my God.
- What's the matter, love?

I don't know. I come over all faint.
I feel terrible.

Here, drink this.

It's water.

Well, me legs went all wobbly
and it all sort of went round.

RITA: I think you'd better go home, love.

I wouldn't be surprised
if it weren't that tea.

So, what was wrong with the tea, then?

Nothing, mate. It just had a full packet
of cigs in the bottom

when we emptied it out,
that's what's wrong with the tea.

- PAULINE: A packet of cigs?
- RITA: That's charming, innit?

Come on, Rube, love, I'll take you home.

Here, hold on a minute.
I'm not losing two of you like that.

There's a consignment to be finished.

Well, she can't go home
on her own now, can she?

I'll take her home.

Here, you're not pulling a fast one,
are you, Rube?

You've only got to take a look at her,
you silly sod.

All right, not so much of that.
Can you make it on your own?

- No.
- All right, then.

Now, you be back here sharp.

MAY: We could do worse
and get an ambulance.

Oh, I'd die of embarrassment
in one of them.

RITA: She do look a bit dodgy,
don't she?

Here, and make sure
when you come back,

you bring back a doctor's certificate.

- How do you feel?
- A bit better in the air.

I hope I don't throw up.

If you ask me, she's up the spout.

- Well, it's one of the symptoms, isn't it?
- Oh, I had terrible confinements, me.

PAULINE: Yeah, remember that Moira?
She said she'd never been with any man.

Reckoned it came through the post,
I suppose.

I'd do meself in if it was me.

Mrs Macarthy?

Mrs Macarthy?

Silly thing, it ain't that bad.
I remember when I fell.

We was love-struck.

We didn't care what we did
till I realised I was carrying.

Then I couldn't stand him.

The worst thing of all though,
was telling me mum.

"You," she said, "of all people."
'Course, she never expected it of me

'cause I was such a prude
in watching the plays on the telly.

Oh, and then she told me dad,

and he come into me bedroom,
but he told me not to worry.

We never used to talk about
those kind of things,

but now we can talk about anything.

Then he went along to the chemist
to get a stick of some kind

that they used to use before the war.

Hey, perhaps it was the tea.
I poured mine down the lavatory.

No, it ain't the tea.
I think I'm up the spout.

- Are you sure?
- Oh, look. I can't sleep, I can't eat,

keep feeling sick.

- Is it Terry?
- Yeah.

You could get married.

Oh, no.

No, I don't want to do that.
No, I'll get rid of it.

I know someone up
Wimbledon Common way.

But, Rube, it's dangerous.

It's not that, that worries me.
It's me mum.

I mean,

when she's in the kitchen,
and I get sick,

I want to go through,

I have to take this deep breath in,
hold me stomach in and run right past.

'Course, when I get into the scullery
I just let it all out.

Here, you'd laugh.

She comes to me the other day,
she says,

"You got ulcers in your mouth?
Your stomach must be upset."

And she gives me a look.

- Poll?
- Yeah.

You won't tell no one, will you?

No, of course I won't.

Will you come with me to get it done?

- Sure.
- Ta.

I mean, I'd appreciate it,
you know what I mean.

Here, you ever tried them pills?

Ain't you got anything better to discuss
than all this bleeding filth?

Hark at her. She's the world's worst.

And not so much of it from you, neither.

- I was only saying…
- Well, don't only say.

She's my sister, all right?
You just keep your nose out of it, cock.

- Sorry I spoke.
- Yeah.

RITA: What you got the bloody hump
for all of a sudden?

I haven't got the bloody hump.

Fancy yourself, don't you,
'cause you got a classy friend?

Tear your bleeding hair out
if you talk to me like that.

Come on. Get off, you.
Come on. Enough of this.

Well, yeah.

Hello.

- How's Rube?
- Oh, she's fine.

Bit of food poisoning, I think.

Food poisoning, me eye.

Do you want a fag?

She's up the spout, ain't she?

Go on, you can tell me.

That's bloody marvellous, innit?

Miserable load of cows.

I'll murder that bleeding Rita
one of these days.

She can't keep her nose out
of anyone else's business.

Don't know what she's talking
about anyhow.

She's been in the club more
times than Queen Victoria.

Yeah, mind you, it's that Terry's fault.

He's a love-them-and-leave-them
merchant, he is.

I thought he was quite nice.

Yeah, they're all nice, love,
till they get you in the club.

She'll have to get rid of it.

I'm taking her up
to Wimbledon tomorrow.

Oh. What you doing tonight?

- Seeing Peter.
- Yeah, you want to watch him as well.

- No.
- Yeah, they're all the same.

- He's very different.
- Ha!

SYLVIE: Bleeding British weather.

- Oh, hello, Peter.
- Hello, Poll.

Yeah, I'm off, then. I'll see you.
Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Pleb. I thought I had a double date then,
for a minute.

Don't be ridiculous.
Think I wanted to share you?

Where are we going, then?

- Up west. Over the water.
- Oh, not the West End.

I've had enough of Battersea
for one day.

Well, I'll have to change, then.

You're joking, aren't you?

- There's the game, love.
- What?

Lord Peter invites you for dinner
at his place.

Just look at them.

I'm looking.

Thought you were going to
take me out tonight.

Just window shopping, darling.

Hey. Hang on, Peter. There's Sylvie.

- Hello, Sylve.
- Oh, hello, Poll.

Here. Oh, here. Come on, here.

Oh, I'm a bit pissed, aren't I?

Here. Did you have a good time,
did you?

TED: Oi.
Where do you think you're going,

all dressed up like the bleeding
Queen of Sheba.

Oh, look, everyone.
If it ain't my ponce of an husband.

You dirty, filthy, bleeding whore.
Look at her.

Just look at it. It's like…
Get off, you crawling whore.

You're like the Salvation Army,
aren't you, love? An ever open door.

I know all about you
and your bleeding abortion

around the corner for £10.
And I can prove it.

SYLVIE: Oh, yeah, you prove it.

You can prove bleeding nothing, you…

(ALL SHOUTING)

Get out of here.
Crawl in a hole somewhere.

That's right, mate,
she deserves a good hiding.

She's not worth a bleeding light.
They're all the same, ain't they?

An old man, no.

- Me teeth, I can't find me teeth.
- Oh, you're too…

I know you went
with a sodding prostitute.

£3 you still owe for your pleasure.

The poor bleeding tart what went
and got herself killed.

I wish it'd been you what got killed.

Slut.

And what about that abortion?
Whose kid was it, anyway?

- You leave your bleeding wife alone.
- She ain't no wife of mine.

I had to bleeding well marry her,
didn't I?

Sylvie!

- You bloody married me!
- Get off, you!

Here, take your bleeding hands
off my daughter!

Stupid…

- Take your hands off my daughter!
- Get off. Get off.

Take your bleeding hands…

Why, you…

(SIREN WAILING)

We were on our way home.
We were on our way home, guv.

What are you doing
in your nightdress, missus?

- MAN: She was having a go at him.
- Never mind, love.

- MAN: She was having a go…
- Keep never minding.

It's only for life, innit?

Seen enough?

You needn't have driven off like that.
She might have been hurt.

What do you expect me to do,
get the Red Cross or something?

Great, drunken brute.

Well, your Sylvie ain't no oil painting.
She's not exactly a paragon of virtue.

So, you think it's perfectly all right
for that bully to knock her about.

Don't get aggravated.

All I'm saying is
she had it coming to her.

- And it was none of my business.
- You don't even like her.

And you don't know
what you're talking about.

They're married, ain't they?

- They haven't lived together for years.
- Don't make no difference.

She never stops talking about sex.
What do you expect?

- A little more sympathy from you.
- Sympathy?

Look, this ain't Lord Farnsbarns
having a ruck with his missus

in the drawing room,
all gin and cosy chat.

Look, you wanted to see life,
well, that's it. You've seen it.

Polly,

look, I haven't come here for a row.

We've had enough of Sylvies and Rubes
and rows for one evening.

Haven't we?

Eh, princess?

Come here.

It's my turn to seduce you.

RUBE: Oh!

Sorry, but the key was in the door,
and I didn't know you was here.

Didn't you?

Where's Poll?

Fixing breakfast for me.

Polly. One of your friends is here.

- Hello.
- Sorry for barging in, love.

Oh, that's all right,
would you like some breakfast?

No, thanks, I'm not very hungry.

Only I was wondering, you haven't
forgotten about Wimbledon, like?

Playing tennis are you?

That's all right,
I'll be with you in a minute.

PETER:
I thought I might take the day off.

And we could spend it together
down by the river or something.

Oh, that'd be lovely, but I've promised
to go somewhere special with Rube.

Thought you two were supposed to be
at work.

POLLY:
Well, this is something very special.

Look, it's all right by me, Poll,
if you don't want to come. It's all right.

No, it's perfectly all right.

I see. Well, if Rube wouldn't mind
looking out the window

or leaving the flat or something,
so I can get dressed.

(AEROPLANE HUMMING)

See you.

(DOOR SLAMS)

I wasn't in the way, was I?

- What's the matter?
- We're here.

But it… It's a shop.

Yeah, well, it's her sideline, innit?
Come on.

I said that'll be two shillings.

Here, here, thanks. Silly, old sod.

Yeah?

Yes, what do you want, then?

I've come about…

- I've come about having…
- You what?

Oh, I know what you've come for.

There's only one thing
good-looking girls like you

come to see Winnie for, eh? What?

Dear, you'd better come
in the other room.

Come on.
That's right, come on then, eh?

Where have I put me glass?
Here's a pretty little thing, that one.

Look, I am a bloody idiot, I am.

I don't know where I put anything.
Are you there? Oh, you're there.

Well, how far have you gone then, love?

- About three months.
- Three months then, eh?

Oh, then we've only got a little problem
inside there, eh?

What?

Where's me glass gone?
That bloody glass, I tell you,

me bloody head wouldn't…

Get out of here,
you bloody blooming thing you.

That bloody cat. It don't half smell.

Do you want to know
what it's done now?

Pissed on the potatoes.

I tell you, I've just about had
enough of that…

See, I can't keep it or anything 'cause
it's, like, me mum and that, you know.

You don't have to explain, love.
I mean, what's the use of explaining.

It's the most bloody difficult thing
in the world to explain.

Have you…
How much money have you got, love?

£4.

Oh, £4? Yes, well, give it over, then.

Yeah, £4.

Well. Oh, well. You don't mind, do you?

Shifts the phlegm out of me throat.
Got a bit of a frog.

You'll only be about 17 then, eh? What?

- Yeah, 18 next month.
- Eighteen. There, you see?

Wasn't far off, was I? Come on, then,

let's go upstairs. That's it, eh?

What? Now, then,
your friend can stop here

and wait for you till you come down, eh?

What? Come on, then, love.

Come on, love.

When she does the syringe,
there's a sort of weakening pain

- and it shoots right up you.
- You all right?

I don't know, it's me legs.
They're like jelly. I can't walk.

Look, come and sit here.

Look, I can't go on the bus.

Look, you stay here. I'll go
and fetch someone. All right? You sure?

Well, not the Lambretta. I've…

Look, I've hurt my leg. Do you think
you could get a van or something?

Oh, thanks, love.
But listen, soon, eh? Okay.

It's all right, someone's coming for us.
I think you should see a doctor.

No!

No, I don't want to see no doctor,

I can do without that trouble and all,
can't I?

We'll see.

How's your leg? You all right?

Well, it's Rube, really. She's not well.
We ought to get her home.

What am I,
an ambulance or something?

Oh, please, Peter.

Come on, then.

In you go.

(VEHICLE STOPPING)

Who's that?

Who is it?

Oh, God.

Polly.

I know what's happening.
I'm not a mug, you know.

Now, don't have nothing to do with it.

What's happened?
Go on, get her in there first.

- Do you want to get nicked, do you?
- I'll be all right.

- Polly, get in the van and come with me.
- Peter, I can't.

All right.

Come on, tell me, what is it, eh?
You got a pain? What is it?

Well, speak to me, love. I can't help you
if you don't tell me what it is. Come on.

She's in the middle of an abortion.

Abortion?

Mum, I reckon she…

I told you to keep away from him,
didn't I?

Yeah, I reckon she ought to
go to bed, Mum.

- But I told her. May I be struck.
- Yeah, but she's…

I warned her time and time again.

Come on, love,
I'm taking you to bed. Come on.

- RUBE: I never realised, Sylve.
- 'Course you didn't, love.

SYLVIE: You'll be all right.

Taking liberties with my girl.

Dirty bastard.

I'll break every bone
in his bleeding body.

I think she should have a doctor,
Mrs Macarthy.

Doctor? We don't need no doctors.

We can do without babies
from ginks like that.

Mum, I wish you'd go
and have a look at her.

- I'll have him. My God, I'll have him.
- Look, she's in pain, Mum.

- I'll screw him up rotten, I will.
- Look, Ray'll see to him.

- He's just as bad as the rest of them.
- RUBE: Mum! Mum!

Oh, Mum!

Right, love, I'm coming, I'm coming!

Sylvie, come on, we must get a doctor.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

(RUBE CRYING)

(SINGING)
I need your love, baby

Hello, Sylve. Rube in?

Don't you show your face
around here, mate.

- Not if you know what's good for you.
- What are you talking about?

- About what I'm talking about, you know.
- I don't, do I?

I hope you're bleeding satisfied,
that's all. I just hope you're satisfied.

Come on, Sylve,
do me a favour, will you?

I've got a bike here.
I'm taking Rube out, ain't I?

- You ain't taking Rube anywhere.
- Why? What's wrong?

'Cause she's up the spout.

- Up the spout. Come on.
- Because of you, you dirty bleeder.

- Don't come the innocent with me.
- Well, where is she, then?

And don't set foot over this door,
or else I'll kill you.

What are you talking about?
I've a right to know if it's my kid.

- If my mother sees you, she'll brain you.
- I don't care about mums.

- If he's my kid, I wanna see it, don't I?
- Look, she's getting rid of it right now.

Rube! Rube!

Get off, you stupid cow!

(RUBE CRYING)

You get out of my house,
you dirty bastard,

or I'll knock you sky-high.

I don't want no kid of mine
to go down the drain.

You ain't got no choice!
Now, get out of here before I brain you!

Get out and stay out!

- I got my rights.
- You ain't got no rights, mate.

Come on, get out. Go on, get out.

Anyway, she was nothing
but a cheap thrill!

- Are you all right?
- Yeah.

(RUBE SHRIEKING)

- She's got to have a doctor!
- RUBE: Sylvie!

Please, let me get the doctor, please.

There's no point.

It's all over.

I'm sorry, Mum. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

(HONKS HORN)

- Don't do that.
- Oh, I'm sorry.

Well?

- Do you want me to go?
- No.

- What are you doing?
- Checking the linkage.

Clever.

Would you like to take me
to a party tonight?

Whose?

- It's for Rube.
- No, thanks.

- Oh, come on…
- I've told you, no.

She's getting engaged.

- Go on, surprise me. Who to?
- Terry.

(LAUGHS)

Cor, marvellous, innit?

Here, I don't half feel randy tonight,

- I can tell you.
- Oh, Sylve.

Well, it's after going with him all that
time, innit? Tell you what, though.

There. Bloke over there, I really fancy.

Oh, look, stop causing trouble
'cause you'll get me at it.

I think I'll go and chat him up.

Here, you sure this ain't your brother?

MAN: Take your hands off her.

- Here, here, do you know what I fancy?
- Yeah, I do and all.

- Here, not that. No.
- Come on.

- No, I fancy going bowling.
- Bowling?

Yeah, I just fancy rolling
them black balls down that shiny wood.

I see. Well, I wouldn't mind.
Here, who wants to go bowling?

Yeah, come on.

- Want to go bowling, yeah?
- All right.

All right, listen, everybody.

All those who want to go bowling,
stick your hands up.

Where?

Up in the air. All right? Yes.

- Think you're bloody funny, don't you?
- Come on, let's go bowling.

What? What do you want
to go bowling for?

I've never been.

All right, if you want to go bowling,
we go bowling.

MAN: Come on.

Oh, here, listen,
I'm going in the Consul.

- Ah, come on, get on the back.
- No, I wanna go in the Consul.

I'll leave you!

Listen, mate, there ain't no wedding ring
on this finger yet. All right?

Here, do you wanna ride on this?

- Help yourself.
- Please.

Here, tell you what. The first one
at the bowling alley can have me,

can't they?

(ALL SINGING)

(GIRLS SCREAMING)

Mirror.

Here, you'd better get him
to an hospital.

They won't have him. He's dead.

(POLLY CRYING)

Come on.

Oi.

Oi, cheer up.

It was just one of those things.

Oh, it was awful.

One minute you're alive…

(POLLY CRYING)

Shh.

Look, it's no use upsetting yourself.

I mean, it couldn't be helped.

It's no use brooding about it.

Kids die every day on bikes.

It's such a waste.

I don't like it any more than you do.

You've just got to forget about it.

He's dead. I'm sorry, but what else?

- It could just as easy have been me.
- (SOBBING) Oh, no. Oh, no.

Come on, stop crying, please.

(SOBBING) Not you.

Oi. Don't cry, Poll. Poll, please.

Please.

Come here. Listen, listen.

Look, why don't we get out of London
for a bit?

I'll take you to the seaside
for the weekend, cheer you up.

Well, what do you say?

I'll fix it up, eh?

Where would we go?

You leave it to me.

Special treat.

Oh, you are nice. I'm…

I'm so stupid.

No, you're not.

It's a different world, love, that's all.

Come on.

Let's forget about it.

Bloody, aching Bedford. Bloody…

Oi. I'm not disturbing you, am I,
doing all this moving about here?

- No.
- No, what are you doing?

- Nothing.
- Nothing.

I'm not paying you for doing nothing.

Get up and do some work,
you lazy cow-son.

Here, Charlie, you using your van
this weekend?

- Why?
- Could you lend it to us?

- What for?
- I want to go away for the weekend.

What's wrong
with public transport, then?

- Leave off. I'll be back Monday.
- No, I can't, I'm using it.

- What's wrong with your scooter?
- Oh, that's no good.

No?

The trouble with you, mate, is you've
got too many big ideas, you know that?

Weekends away, eh? Eh? Eh?

Why don't you go on
like any normal lad?

I can do without that, thanks.

I'm giving you
a bit of good advice, mate.

That's all I need, innit?
Well, stuff your poxy van, you mug.

(HORN HONKING)

- Where'd you get that?
- Hired it for the weekend.

Flash bugger. Hold on a minute.

- Aren't we clever.
- 'Course I am, ain't I?

Hey, look at
all those lovely boarding houses.

I bet they've got
a great, big, fat landlady in there

and little mottoes on the walls,
"Cleanliness is next to Godliness."

Yeah, well, we're not stopping
in one of them.

- Oh, please.
- Who needs landladies?

Always worrying about
what your business is.

No, for us, it's hotels. The best.

- POLLY: Flash bugger.
- I've never been in a hotel before.

Yes, that will be quite all right,
that booking. Thank you very much.

- Yes?
- I want a large double room,

overlooking the sea,
with a private bath, of course.

- Have you booked?
- No.

Sign in, please.

- Two-three-four.
- This way, please.

WOMAN ON PA: Telephone call
for Mr Hancock. Mr Hancock, please.

"He's a crazy chap, that young fella…"

(POLLY LAUGHING)

The sea.

PETER: Well, it ain't exactly
the Riviera, I know.

POLLY: Oh, it's better.

Oh, look. Can I have some?

Oh, they're vile.

It's all knees-up-Mother-Brown
stout and bleeding whelks, innit?

Please.

- Can't take you anywhere, can I?
- No.

- Give us a plate of cockles, mate.
- Here you are, mate.

- How much?
- Nine pence, mate, please.

- There you go.
- Ta.

They're lovely.

You'll be wanting a paddle
and a stick of rock next.

- PETER: Here, are you hungry?
- Quite.

- Let's eat, then.
- All right.

No, not here.

- Why not?
- It's yuck.

What do you mean "yuck"?
It's smashing.

Stuffy.

Listen, I'm not having egg and chips,
you know.

"Stuffy."

With you, princess, it's the best.

- You won't like it.
- We shall see.

Come here.

- Leave off, I'm all clean.
- I know.

You smell lovely.

- Do you know what?
- Go to sleep.

I love you.

Really?

Mmm.

Honestly?

I love you.

I love you.

Oi.

Hmm?

Would you marry me?

What?

No, would you, though? I mean,
I'd understand if you didn't want to.

Well, I don't know. I mean, I… We…

- I don't know what to say.
- We could have a ball.

It'd be like this all the time.

- But it is a serious decision, you know.
- I know.

Do you really want to marry me?

Yeah.

I love you.

You'll have to get a better job,
you know.

- What do you mean?
- Well, one to support us both.

Polly, stop playing about.
The game's over. I'm being serious.

What?

Well, everyone in Battersea knows
what you are.

They all know you're a rich girl.

I don't believe you.

You don't really think you're the same
as Sylve and Rube, do you?

People like you don't come out
of the backstreets.

What difference does it make
if I have money?

Well, there's just no point
in pretending you haven't got it.

Look, I came to Battersea
to get away from it.

I just want to lead an ordinary life.
I want to spend what I earn.

I don't want to be a parasite,
and I certainly don't want to marry one.

Oh, so you think that living in a slum

and working in a factory
is good for you?

Yes.

You're mad.

Look, we could get a nice flat
in a nice part of London,

go to the sunshine
whenever we want to.

Take all the sweat out of life. Enjoy it.

Life's too short for all the aggravation.

- That's not what I want.
- Well, what do you want?

Us both working in a factory,
living in a two up and two down

with a zinc bath on Fridays,

egg and chips for tea,
living on what we earn?

- A lot of people do it.
- Do you think they want to?

Look, I know what money does
to people.

I know what it's like to be rich.

It destroys you.
It makes you false and useless.

- And I don't want to be any part of it.
- You just don't know, do you?

- Don't know what?
- Let me tell you something, Polly.

- They all want what you've got.
- No.

Listen. Why do they do the books?
Why do they hang about dog tracks?

A lucky number. A treble chance that's
going to make all the difference. Money.

You've got it and you don't want it.

- We don't need it.
- Think yourself lucky, Polly.

You'll never have to go without.
You'll never see the inside of a nick.

You'll never know what it's like
to be hungry or really poor.

Doesn't matter how hard you pretend
or play at it.

- Play at it?
- Yes, play at it.

Go out and make people happy
with your money.

Spend it. Do something useful with it.

But don't sit there feeling guilty about it!

Oh, God.

Yeah. Go on, look at me like that.

You're just like all of them, aren't you?
Like all the rich.

- Peter.
- Look at someone who hasn't got it

and all you see is a cheap hustler,

- just because…
- No, Peter, I didn't…

Don't play with people's lives, Polly.
Don't worry, I'll pay the bill.

Oh, Peter, no. It doesn't matter!

JUDGE: And you were found
in possession of a stolen motor car.

- Do you have anything to say?
- No. Nothing to say.

The trouble with your kind, Connors,

is you have no appreciation
of private property.

Or you don't seem able
to distinguish between

what is yours and what is not yours.

- What?
- Shut up.

I can't help meself, it's that judge.

He keeps making me want to laugh.

JUDGE: Your kind can't be given
the freedom of the streets

when you're incapable
of appreciating that freedom.

You're no more than a parasite.

I see no reason
why you shouldn't be sent down.

While you are there, you will have time
to consider the laws of property.

I am going to sentence you
to six months' imprisonment.

I hope we shan't see you
in this court again.

- I must go and see him.
- Oh, they won't let you, love.

But I've got to.

Peter?

Peter.

I'm sorry, miss, it's against the rules.

No, well, he's my boyfriend,
I've got to see him.

I'm sorry, you'll just have to wait
till visiting time.

Hello, Polly. What are you doing here?
How's your father?

He's fine. Look, a friend of mine's
just been taken down there,

and I must see him. And he won't…
Oh, please.

I think that can be arranged.
Just a minute.

You have my authority
to take that young lady down.

Okay, sir. This way, miss.

No more than a minute, miss.

- How did you get here?
- Friend of Daddy's.

Figures.

Why, Peter?

Why what?

The car, I didn't need it.

I did.

Oh, I'd much rather have gone by bus.

Yeah, that's your trouble.

(DOOR CLOSES)

MAN: All right, Polly?

SYLVIE: Shame about that.

That's the thing, you see. What you
don't get caught for, you are entitled to.

(NOSTALGIC SONG PLAYING)