All language subtitles for The Missing Postman Part 2a

Escape and adventure.

The missing postman is supposed to
personify escape and adventure.

This place does not say that to me.

Right come on, I want a creative idea
out of each of you.

Hello. My name's Sarah Seymour.
I'm a journalist with the Daily Mail.

I wonder if you could help me
and tell me if this man

has been in your shop recently.

It's that missing postman,
Mr. Gourock.

I want this kept low-key, okay?

If and when he gets here,
keep that ----- out the way.

Leave it to us.

There's just one thing.

You're on a double-yellow.

The traffic wardens
are very keen ----- here.

Are you asking me to move my car?

One of them booked
his own wife last week.

There's a pay and display
not far from here.

There he bloody is.

- Where's my keys?
- They're in your pocket!

No, they're not!

Come on.

I'll take this side.

Sorry. I'm desperate to go.

Oh, shit.

Well, that's ten Hail Marys
for a kickoff.

Oh, no.

What are you doing there?

I dropped my glasses.

Just tell me your sins,
there's a good man.

What sins do you mean exactly?

I don't know what sins.

Start with bad language
and work your way up.

Bad language. Right.

And um...

I've stolen something.

You'll say five Hail Marys
and five Our fathers

and you will give
those letters back.

- How about if I deliver them?
- What?

Wouldn't that be all right?

Yes, all right.

Every one of them, mind.

Now make an act of contrition
then go in peace.

God be with you.

You need help.

I haven't got the equipment to replace
these over the counter, Mr. Peacock.

They need to be sent away.

Take a fortnight to get
a new pair, I'm afraid.

Hang on. I'm thinking,

if there's someone with a
similar prescription to Mr. Peacock's.

Someone who lives locally.

Maybe they can
loan 'em up here.

- I don't want to impose.
- You're not imposing, Mr. Peacock.

But they said you'd get the support
of everyone who wears glasses.

They haven't had somebody like you they
could champion since Eddie the Eagle.

You're heading for Allen,
is that right?

Yes.

Mr. Sinclair, Glenloom Cottage,

about a mile from the ferry.
Similar prescription.

No telephone number,
but you can always call in.

Worth a try.

Thank you very much.

You'll find us a helpful lot
in the general optical council.

I'd like to think of it as sort of

RAC for the visually impaired.

If you're ever in need
of any assistance

don't hesitate to call
any one of us.

Thank you.

Hello.

Anyone home.

Mr. Sinclair.

...one-lane higher.

Both of these these guys really...

...I know they both
want to make it to the final...

so they talk to their coach,
Terry Dennison...

after the heat this morning and

very confident that both these lads
can go very fast indeed here...

Mr. Sinclair?

Oh, there you are.

I'm sorry to disturb you,
Mr. Sinclair.

Um...

you don't know me...

You're missing the end of Grandstand,
Mr. Sinclair.

Wake up, Mr. Sinclair!

Oh, I'm speaking for Mr. Sinclair.

No, I'm just a neighbour, but I think

the doctor should see him
as soon as he can.

No, he can't come into surgery.

Thank you.

Ahhhh...!

Ooh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Ooh.

Oh.

It's me...

the missing postman.

Ooh.

Oh.

Ohh.

THE LOVELY LINDA

Oh, you're awake, are you?

And how are you feeling now?

Fine. Where are my clothes...?

Your clothes are drying,
now don't you worry about them.

Oh, that curtain rail's
fallen off again.

It's on my list of things to do.

Would you look at it out there.

It's the tail end of hurricane Lucy,
you know?

You were in a state.

I almost called the doctor, right,
you had such a temperature.

All that way with a letter.

And it was just someone wanting bed and
breakfast on the bank holiday weekend.

I'll have to say no, as well.

Doesn't everyone look stupid with
a thermometer in their mouth.

Where do you think you're going?

I've got to get moving.

You don't understand.
You won't got off the island today.

The boats won't cross in this.

Besides,

you look as if you could
use a day off.

Come on.

I thought you might
have a letter for me.

I thought if anyone deserves one, I do.

I'm a great letter writer,
you see.

I write at least one a day.

Who to?

I write to my MP.

I write to the local
bus company a lot.

My pen friend in Canada.

I'm writing to Rowntrees
at the moment,

about the new
orange flavoured KitKat.

It was a bold move to meddle
with something so popular

but they did and it worked.

You've had a lark, haven't you?

What does your wife say?

She looks after herself.

You sound like my husband.

Where is your husband?

He's at sea.

He's a fisherman.

He wasn't out last night.

Somewhere.

Linda.

What?

I just wanted to see
if your name was Linda.

Here's me and Howard
on our honeymoon.

We took The Lovely Linda over to Skye.
We had a beautiful week.

Here's me gutting fish, look.

What's this?

That's me one Christmas.

You've got a black eye.

Howard hit me. He was drunk.

They all drink too much
when they're home.

I made my friend, Trisha,
take the picture.

She didn't want to but I insisted.

I think a photo album should
reflect the unhappy memories

as well as the happy ones.
They're all part of life.

There's Howard
burying the dog, look.

When's Howard due home?

Would you like a whisky,
Mr. Peacock?

Why not, Mrs. Taylor.

I wrote to this distillery and they
sent me a free case of this stuff.

It must have been
a particularly good letter.

I told them how the product got me
through a difficult time in my life...

when the rescue
stopped looking for Howard.

What are you saying?

I'm saying...

that he's lost at sea.

They never found him.

Never even found the boat.

He's been lost for 2 years now.

I've got a picture of the helicopter
crew somewhere, if you'd like to see it.

No, no, that's all right.

Has anyone stayed here
since Howard disappeared?

No. The house needs too much work.

We were in the middle
of fixing the place up.

I used to save up jobs that
needed doing while he was away.

I still write them down on
bits of paper and put them in here.

When he was home

we used to take them out
one by one and do them together.

"Erect cling film dispenser
in kitchen."

Well, don't look at me,
I'm no good at DIY.

My wife looks after
all that kind of thing.

- Did she never show you how?
- No.

How do you expect to be any good
at something if nobody shows you how?

Come on.

You'll soon pick it up.

Well?

"Grout the splash tiles
around the bath."

Come on.

Need to do that window, as well.

- Would you do me a favour, Mr. Peacock?
- Certainly.

I've got an itch on my back,
would you scratch it for me?

Half way up,
over to the right-hand side.

Up a bit.

Left a bit.

Up a bit more.

Oh, yeah.

Lucy's such a gentle name.

A child's name.

I wouldn't call her Hurricane Lucy.

I wonder who makes up
the names for hurricanes.

Why are you running away,
Mr. Peacock?

Something I'm good at,
Mrs. Taylor.

Ooh.

Pins and needles. Hah.

Oh.

Thank you.

Heard the news?

Plane crash in Colombia, 93 dead,
including crew.

Morning, Frank.

This is a friend of Howard's,
he got stranded by the storm.

You'll be pleased to know that
the ferries are running again, then.

I thought I'd stay and, uh,
finish the job.

Who are you writing to now?

Zanussi

Who?

Zanussi, the washing machine people.

I bought on of their models recently
and I really like it,

so I'm writing to tell them.

I love the taste of envelopes.

Just scratch your back again.

I was just thinking,

if I was to post a letter
to my pen friend in Canada,

I could give it to you to deliver

and then I could sit on your crossbar
and we could head off together.

Better still,
we could get a tandem.

And then from there

I could write a birthday card
to the Brazilian prime minister

and we could cycle down to Rio.

From there,

I'd write to the
East and Orient Hotel in Penang.

Ordering a double room
with a bath and sea view

and we could head out east.

We could travel the world
on the price of a stamp.

Postal service isn't to be abused,
you know?

I know.

I was just thinking,

what are you gonna do
when you run out of letters?

That bone marrow woman's dead.

Oh, dear.

Uzbekistan's flared up as well.

It's all gloom and doom.

Where is Uzbekistan?

I don't know.

I just listen to the wireless.

I've only been off this island
the once,

when I bought my
Reliant Robin in 1977.

Switch on the wireless
and the world comes to you.

That's my motto.

It's a nice spot you've got here.

That's what they say
on the tourist brochure.

"An idyllic fishing port
where time has stood still."

Get a lot of visitors here,
you know?

They're going to put traffic bumps
along this road soon.

Have you ever been unfaithful before?

This doesn't feel like
being unfaithful.

No.

Feels like something
I should've done a long time ago.

Good.

I've always wanted to lie awake
with my lover in the dark.

And tell her things
I've never told anyone else.

Like what?

Things.

What things?

There actually was something
that happened 22 years ago.

Yeah.

When my wife was pregnant.

About 6 weeks
before the baby was born.

- You never said you had a...
- I don't.

You see...

I was using the step ladder
to change a light bulb.

And one of the steps
gave way and broke.

Third from the bottom.

But I didn't repair it.

I just slotted it back together

and left it for the next person
to take the blame.

As a child might.

Well, the next person was my wife.

Eight months pregnant and she
still insisted on decorating the house.

I kept asking her to take it easy.

We'd been trying to have a baby
for some time, you see.

She'd already had one miscarriage.

But she said decorating relaxed her.

She was doing the bedroom
for the baby.

Anyway, she climbed the step ladder and

when she got to the third rung, it...

gave way and she fell.

She...

she was a bit shaken but she
didn't seem to have hurt herself.

But then she stopped
feeling the baby kick.

We went to see the doctor and
he spent a long time examining her and

we called in another doctor and

finally they told us
they were very sorry but...

they could find no heartbeat
for the child.

We were sent for an x-ray and

there was the umbilical cord
knotted around its neck.

Baby still had to born of course.

Christine still had to
go through labour.

We went into hospital one dark,
stormy night in November.

I packed a bag
and made some sandwiches.

Christine went through all the pain.

When it was born,

a little boy,

we never even saw him.

We never got to hold him, even.

Midwives whisked him away and...

we were left alone in this
pale green room.

We thought about
giving him a name, but...

decided not to in the end.

Later...

one of the nurses told us
he'd been perfect.

Christine had to stay
in the hospital overnight.

She said she could hear the cries of
the newborn babies down the corridor.

I remember I had to walk home,

'cause I only had
a provisional licence.

I couldn't drive unless someone

who'd passed their test
was sitting in the passenger seat.

When I got home, I...

I made a cottage pie, to keep busy.

I couldn't look in the mirror for days.

Looking back on it now, I...

I wished I'd got the next door neighbour
to come and take a picture of me,

like you would've done.

'Cause I've nothing
to remember it all by now.

I'd do a course in cycle maintenance,
to keep my mind off it and

Christine did one in plastering.

We never talked about it.
That's not our way.

Anything unpleasant happens to us,
we just try and forget about it.

So, you see...

I've never owned up
about the step ladder.

You're the first person I've told
in 20 years.

This is about as emotional as I get,
by the way.

# OPERA PLAYING... #

They're only journalists.

Police are never far behind.

I can't stop now. I need to...

Oh, finish the job.

Go on.

Turn right at the house.

Take the bike lane and
you'll be on road to the ferry.

You'll catch the 8:00.
I'll stall them for as long as I can.

Here.

What's this?

Just open it in an emergency.

Mrs. Taylor.

Hi. You'd be looking for
bed and breakfast.

Well, you'll be pleased to know that
we've just opened again after, uh...

an extensive refurbishment.
Come on through.

He never mentioned anything
about being a postman.

He said his name was Mr. Smith.

He kept showing me
a picture of his wife.

He was the perfect guest,
I might add.

A real gentleman.

I was quite sorry when he left...
yesterday afternoon.

"To my lovely Linda,

"bed and breakfast will
never be the same again.

Clive."

Yeah, Maughan.

Oh... thank you.

Stone me,
what a stroke of luck.

The missing bloody postman!

Trevor Ramsay...

Trevor Ramsay, Public Relations.

I handle Carlton Hotel. Prestige chain.

We've got a property on the island.

- Could've put you up there,
if I'd known. - Thank you.

Clive, let me buy you breakfast.

There's a little cafe
over by the booking office.

We need to talk.

It's very kind,
but I'm catching a boat.

Clive, come on, you've done very well.
You've strung them along, but

you're gonna have to cash in soon.

And then you're gonna need
professional help.

Which newspaper you dealing with?

Um... I'm not interested,
thank you.

Oh Clive, you've got to tell
your story to a national newspaper.

You owe that much to your public.

And-and what about
merchandise, huh?

I don't suppose you've even thought
about that, have you? What about this?

Right off the top of my head:
The Missing Postman board game.

Six players, one person's the missing
postman, he throws to start

and the others have to catch him
before he's delivered all the letters.

Be perfect for Christmas, that would.
What's the matter?

Ah, my friends, the media.

You stay here,
I'll take care of them.

And, uh, how much are Bick's Narrow
Boat Hire paying you, by the way?

- Nothing.
- Nothing?

Bastards!

I'm not having a client of mine
treated like that.

I'll fix you up with ----- or someone.

Clive decided it was time
that somebody made a stand.

He wouldn't be cast aside
like some used part.

He knew that he had something
that no machine could ever have.

- A soul.
- There he is!

Give us a wave, Clive!

Give us a call, Clive!

Page 3, look.

We're getting there.

I went to school with him.

- Does that cobweb look real to you?
- Yes.

Doesn't to me.

Look at that!

That woman from Palmerston Road.
The one who can't stop sneezing.

She's got herself in the nationals now.

Only page 7, mind.

How do get spiders to adventure out,
do you know?

- No.
- Ooh, guess what?

Guess what?

I've been asked to decorate
a hairdressing salon in town.

That is wonderful news, Christine!

Peacock Interiors is taking off.
I feel inspired.

You've changed, you know?

That's the most philosophical thing
you've ever said to me, Ralph.

Oh, sorry.

Oh, guess who else phoned?
The Tourist Board.

They want to put a plaque
outside the house, saying

the missing postman lives here.

- Can you believe that?
- You're kidding!

I said to them: "but the missing postman
doesn't live here, he's missing."

I reckon this Tim Rice
is very underestimated.

I mean, have you ever really
listened to the words to Evita?

What the hell was that?

This is the night mail
crossing the border.

Bringing the cheque
and the postal order.

Letters for the rich,
letters for the poor.

The shop on the corner,
the girl next door.

Letters of thanks, letters from banks.

Applications, situations,

and timid lovers' declarations.

And gossip, gossip
from all the nation.

Hello. Um, you don't know me...

Oh, yes I do.

You know, I've always wanted
a Giant Bronco.

They're dependable machines.

Do you think the carbon fibre
production process

really makes a difference
to performance?

A bit.

What about the laser revs?

Do they enable you to create
the 4-wheel drive effect?

Sometimes...
uh, now and again.

You know...

you should think about
contact lenses,

an adventurer like yourself.

New circumstantials,
news financials.

Letters with holiday snaps,
to enlargings.

Letters with faces
drawn in the margins.

And the farmers he passes,
no one wakes.

But the jug in the bedroom
gently shakes.

Excuse me. Sorry.

Excuse me!

Staff announcement,
Staff announcement...

Two months non-stop sneezing.

I wouldn't fancy that.

She's going for the world record.

What about that missing postman?

What about him?

Said in the paper that a letter
delivered and cancelled by him

is worth £300.

You're kidding?

No, I'm not.

He's got a letter of mine,
you know?

Has he?

I posted it in that box

at 7.30 on the morning he
disappeared with the 8.00 collection.

So he must have it in his bag.

Excuse me...
that letter you mentioned,

do you remember
where you sent it?

- Who are you?
- He's our policeman officer.

It would really help me know
where you addressed that letter to.

Uh, slow down, love.

- It was to Points of View.
- The TV show?

I said, would you slow down,
I can't open these stupid bags.

It was about Paul Daniels,
how he brings a mountain of ash.

Are you sure you
posted it that morning?

Look, would you slow down,
you stupid bitch!

I want to see the manager
about these bags.

Now look what you've done.

Are you sure you posted it
that morning, before 8.00

to the BBC?!

You sure about that?!

Points of View?

You know, the TV show.
Viewers write in...

I know what bloody
Points of View is!

What I want to know is
what it's got to do with anything.

It's the break I've
been waiting for, sir.

Peacock has got
that letter in his bag.

At last,
I'm one step ahead of him.

I know where he's going.

Now, if I take a surveillance van,
stake out TV Centre. I've got him!

No.

Sir, I really think
it would be good for this town

to bring Clive Peacock home.

Do you?

Well, that's fine.

'Cause I think it would be
much better

if he never came anywhere
near this place again.

If you really want to do
something for this town, Pitman,

go and find the hooligan
who loosened

the chief traffic planning
officer's wheel nuts!

Now, I could use police officers but
I don't want a heavy-handed approach.

I want us, his neighbours

to reach out to him and
bring him back home safely.

Is this part of the community
policing initiative, Lawrence?

You could say that, Ron, yes.

- You can count me in then.
- And me.

And me, dear.

Are we going to be armed?

What?

Well, what happens
if he resists arrest?

We're not going to arrest him, Len,

we're gonna bring him home.

How?

Right, uh, well,
this is what I intend to do:

Five volunteers, myself included,
will take a van and

taking shifts, we'll stake out the BBC
Television Centre until Clive turns up.

- I'll be one of them.
- And me.

- Me too.
- I'll make some devilled eggs.

Good, right, very good.

Right, so, uh, I'll get
the surveillance van

and we'll set off
first thing in the morning.

Spend all weekend up there
if need be.

- Well, what?
- This weekend?

Clive was last seen leaving an
opticians near Leeds 2 nights ago

and the rate he's travelling, he could
be in London tomorrow afternoon.

Well, that would prove unpopular
I think, Lawrence.

- Yes!
- Certainly would.

Out of the question.

Why?

This weekend is the outing.

He hasn't been paying attention,
has he?

There's an itinerary
displayed in the newsagents

with a menu from La langoustine
and a list of those going.

I noticed your name isn't on it
by the way, Lawrence.

Sod the stupid outing!

Would you like your bath now,
Mrs Atheron?

- Hello.
---

What's that for?

Celebrate.
Your hairdressing contract.

There's something different
about you tonight, Ralph.

Oh, yeah.

What?

Well... I don't know.

Of course...

not carrying your metal detector.

I've only just discovered pasta.

Could virtually live off it.

It's so versatile.

I've an idea to decorate a wall
with tagliatelle.

What do you think?

I think you're a very
creative woman, Christine.

Thanks.

Just wish I'd started all this earlier.

Never knew what I was capable of.

Are you alright?

Fine.

- I was wondering if I... oh...
- I...

No... after you.

No, no, after you.

Alright then.

I was just gonna ask...

if I could spend the night with you.

Oh.

What were you gonna say?

I was just gonna say that...

the hairdresser that I'm
doing the job for,

has got a whole chain
of salons and he

might ask me to redesign them all.

- That would be wonderful.
- Yeah, it would, yeah.

I mean what I really need to
get the business off the ground

is good publicity.

Oh, I know.

So...

what do you think, then Christine,
about me...

spending the night?

Look at these.

Clive used to look after them
and I've neglected them.

Think you better go now, Ralph.

Right you are then.

Well, thank you very much,
supper was very nice.

See myself out.

You did it!

Kid, you did it, after 22 years,

you finally asked her.

You didn't muck about.

You came straight out with it.
I'm proud of ya.

That is called being honest!

Morning, Lawrence.

Morning.

You're... sure you're happy
about doing this now?

Yes.

I mean it's your Saturday off
and everything.

I weren't doing anything special.

We could be there all weekend.

Good job we're fitted out then.

Yeah.

Ooh.

I can take the first watch.

You can get some rest
on that mattress if you want.

No. I'll stay and keep you company.

You see, I enjoy my job.

I like the people I work with.

I've enjoyed getting to know you
on this case, Lawrence.

Right.

At first I thought you were a bit,
you know, stand-offish.

But you're just a loner really,
aren't you?

I suppose I am.

Bit shy.

Is that why you've never called me
by my first name?

I have.

Haven't I?

- Haven't I called you...
- Rachel.

No, you never have.

I tell you what... Rachel.

Why don't you nick down
to Shepherds Bush

and get us something to eat
from that Mexican takeaway we passed.

Why don't you do that?

Rachel.

See,

it's the spiritual ingredient
of sex that fascinates me.

Men never seem to understand that.

That's 'cause the pleasure
they derive is so one dimensional.

Goodness, these burritos are tasty.

Seems to me that

men experience sex
from a purely physical basis.

Whereas women experience it
on a number of different levels.

That chilli sauce makes your
nose run, though, doesn't it?

Don't you agree, Lawrence?

Up to a point.

Maybe it's because men
are so wrapped in role play.

They can't be themselves.

That's what I like about you,
Lawrence.

You're not the self-conscious type.

You let women come to you,
don't you?

What?

Sure you don't want some of this?

No thanks.

Don't let me drink it all now.

Oh, right, well, maybe.

Got to enjoy your Saturday nights.

That's what I say.

What do you normally do for fun
on the weekend, Lawrence?

Oh, I... try to unwind.

Doing what?

Tidy up and stuff.

Sometimes my boys come over.

- How old are you Lawrence?
- 51.

You'll be up for retirement soon then,
won't you?

Yeah. Next year, in fact.

What are you gonna do then?

Oh. Haven't really thought.

Don't tell me you're gonna
become the missing policeman.

No, I'll get a part-time job,
I suppose.

I know a lot of
retired police officers

gone into supermarket security.

Read more, watch documentaries.

Get more involved
in the local community.

I'm looking forward to it. (!)

You know Lawrence, I said
you weren't self-conscious?

Well, you could loosen up a bit.

- Do you think so?
- Without a doubt.

I suppose you're right.

Always wanted to play
boogie-woogie piano.

Just well enough to get a few
friends around for a session.

A few beers.

What are you doing?

I mean, you've got integrity.

I haven't met a man with integrity
since I was 30.

But you've got to stop behaving
like a grown up all the time.

Rachel, please!

Shut up, Lawrence.

Just come here and
do something instinctive.

No...

you're the first man I've ever met

who hasn't tried to hold his stomach
in while he took his shirt off.

No...

Oh, no...

Lawrence,
where are you going?!

Clive!

Clive!

Clive!

Let me through, Police.

Oh, Clive, oh don't go, please!

Look...

I am a policeman...
honestly, god.

You let him through,
he's a postman!

- He's the missing postman.
- I know he's the missing postman!

I'm the bloody policeman
who's been trying to catch him.

I'm definitely not letting
you in then. He's one of us.

Look... Clive,

it's me, Lawrence Pitman.

How are you?

Alright.

Good.

It's good to see you...

I'm not gonna arrest you.

I just want to speak to you.

Speak to him, then.

I'm going to.

Clive, listen, look...

this has gone on long enough.

People want you back home.
Your wife wants you back.

Your friend with the metal detector,
he wants you back.

The neighbourhood watch
were saying just the other night

how things aren't the same
without you.

There's a lot of sympathy
for you, Clive.

But don't push your luck, OK?

Excuse me, Lawrence,
I think you're forgetting something.

You're forgetting me.

You tell him, Clive.

The truth is I've been trying
to come home ever since I left.

Every day I wake up and like you,
I think: "This has gone far enough, Clive."

"Time you went home now."

"Home to your wife,
your friends, your retirement".

And then I think about it
a bit more and I...

I get this knot inside my stomach,

and I can't bring myself to do it.

All I know is that all I have to do,

is put my hand in my bag,

and bring out a letter,

and everything's fine again.

What've you done to yourself?

You look different.

What have I done?
I'll tell you what I've done:

I've gone and jumped off a cliff

but instead of falling,
I'm flying.

That, and I've got myself
contact lenses.

A bit itchy but apparently
I'll get used to them.

I've gotta go now.

Screwed that up, didn't ya?

- What's your name?
- I won't tell you that.

Monday morning, you're
gonna be out of a job.

- I'll see to that personally.
- Suits me.

I'm getting my redundant, Friday.

Points Of View.

Don't suppose you've got
any letters want posting?

No.

Bollocks.

Clive!

Clive!

Put this on for the photos, Clive.

Come on.

Put your bike in the back,
hop in.

I've booked you into a hotel
in the West End.

Mini bar, cable TV, you'll love it.

BY THE TIME YOU GET THIS
I WILL BE HOME.

That's what I call publicity.

To tell you the truth I could've
picked you up before they got to you.

But I thought why waste such a
perfect photo opportunity.

I'd like The Full English
if I may, please Trevor.

"The Full English", I love it.

It's just the image
I want for you, Clive.

Full English breakfasts, red telephone
boxes, Morris Minors, village cricket.

- How many letters you got left?
- One.

- Where to?
- Home.

Postcard to my wife.

Ah, that's beautiful, Clive.

Beautiful!

God...

got a tear in my eye.

It's a real one.

Um, Full English, please.

'Postcard to his beloved wife,

who'd stood by him
through thick and thin.'

- How'd you like your eggs, sir?
- Scrambled, please. And, um,

I'd like some fried bread
if you can manage it.

Bloody poignant, Clive,
you know, that's what it is.

Go on, I'll have a kipper, as well.

Now...

mobile phone,

keep it handy at all times.

Once the newspaper
deal's sorted then

we need to talk about a book, OK?

We'll get that Sarah Seymour
to ghost it.

- Whatever you say, Trevor.
- The wheels.

And, uh, are you certain
you want to cycle home?

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

You can't be tempted by a first-class
rail ticket, no one'll know.

Well, thank you, Trevor. Bye.

You're stuffed with mystique
you are, Clive.

That's good.
Housewives love mystique.

Hello, Mrs. Peacock.

Trevor Ramsay.
Trevor Ramsay Public Relations.

I love your house.

- Hello.
- Ahh!

Who the hell's that?

I think we've met before.

Early this summer,
near Cirencester.

- I had a puncture.
- I remember you.

European Ice Skating Championships
were on, weren't they?

- Yes.
- You've lost weight.

You remember:

you asked me who would
play me in a film of my life?

Did I? Who did we decide?

- You said Ronnie Corbett.
- Never!

I would never have said
Ronnie Corbett.

He's not you at all.
You're much more...

- Dustin Hoffman?
- No, no, no.

You're more...

Harrison Ford. Yeah.

Good actor, Harrison Ford.

Good at action but got depth.
Excuse me, I'm bursting!

Grrr!

Grrr!

It's me.

Clive?

I'm home!

Oh.

Yes you are, aren't you?

Get out of the way
you bloody stupid....

- What time is it?
- It's almost 8.

Oh my God, I've overslept!

They'll be waiting for him.

Oh, there you are. Perfect timing.
We'll get you on the 8 o'clock news.

Now, there'll be plenty of time
for that later.

Christine, get that uniform on him.

Clive! Clive...!

Oi!

Why don't you all come indoors.

Yes!

Ah, excuse me, you can't leave
your vehicles here, I'm sorry.

It's residents only.

W-was it really a protest against
being replaced by a machine, Clive?

Um... not really.

Was your aim to bring attention to the
plight of workers cut off in their prime

by redundancy and early retirement?

No.

What he means is, his journey
was really much more of a quest.

Clive had his back against the wall,
there was nothing else he could do.

Is that fettuccine on the wall?

Oh no, it's tacky telly. Um,

I tried fettuccine
and vermicelli but

I just thought that...
that this had more-more texture.

It's great.

- Is that a real sycamore tree?
- Oh yes, of course.

Isn't she talented?

She could've just sat indoors
and felt sorry for herself

and no one would've blamed her.
Not Christine Peacock!

You should see upstairs!
It's like Camelot, I'm not kidding!

Is that real spider up there?

Where'd you get your ideas from,
Christine?

Hello.

I was just wondering if, um...

you know,
one evening we could...

go out for a drink or something.

Rachel?

Ah, we haven't really
spoken much,

the last couple of weeks.

Sir, it's very sweet of you, Lawrence.

But there is no need.

I know you're just trying to be nice.
But it's all my fault.

I'm not trying to be nice.

And it wasn't anyone's fault.

I always fall for enigmatic men.
That's my problem.

I'm not enigmatic!

Bye, Lawrence.

If you ever put another through my
bloody door, I'll shove it up your...

Sorry.

I am sorry.
I didn't know it was you. I'm s...

I've had a hard day.

Sorry.

So...

you decided to come back after all.

You told me to come back.

Yes I did, didn't I?

And you got a new job.

Good job.

Local newspapers are
very important to the community.

- You don't want yours.
- No...

oh, yes, yes, of course,
I do, I do yeah,

it's just I thought it was a circular
from that lot from Birch and company.

Thanks.

I see you're wearing
your glasses again.

Contact lenses didn't agree with me.

Oh.

Well...

you're beginning to look like
the Clive we used to know.

Thanks.

Christine.

Oh good, just in time.

Pass me that drill bit,
would you?

Just there, yeah.

Thanks.

Christine, I wanted
to ask you something.

Eh, you'll never guess what.

Homes and Gardens want to do
a feature on me.

How about that?

What's the matter?

You know when I was away?

I thought we'd agreed
to forget about that.

I've tried but I don't want
to forget about it.

I want to remember
every minute of it.

It's already beginning to feel
like it happened to someone else.

Look, it'll take a little bit
of time and then,

you'll settle down again.

Christine, I can't spend the rest of
my days passing about pots of paint.

Then you'll have to learn to cope!

Like I did.

You left me without a word.

I'm not letting you upset me.

I've got work to do.

- Did you miss when I was gone?
- What?

Of course I did?

But did you really miss me?

Yes.

Did you ever stop what you were doing
and wished that I was there?

I...

I had a lot to do.

House, now all this.

I couldn't just stop what I was doing.

And are you happy?

Yeah, of course.

I'm doing what I want.

You're doing what you really want to do
more than anything in the world?

Yep.

Good.

We could travel the world
on the price of a stamp.

Just open it in an emergency.

K.