All language subtitles for Hetty Wainthropp s01e06 Save as Houses.eng

[Siren]

[Indistinct talking]

[Horn honks]

[Baby crying]

A job?!

Part-time.

3 days a week
collecting trolleys.

The detective business
doesn't pay, Hetty.

We've been eating into
my redundancy money.

Something had
to be done.

You can give it up

the moment we
can afford it.

I'm not having
a husband of mine

going out to work!

Your job's here!

She'll take him.

Come on.
Sit in the back.

Good boy.

Yep, I've got him.

[Baby crying]

[Engine starts]

Come on, boy.

Let's get you home,
shall we?

Mrs. Baynes?

Label attached?
She always writes a label.

Right.
Thank you kindly.

I'll take him in.

[Baby cries]

You're all right,
yes.

[Honks horn]

HETTY: Yes.

I'll be there.

Rely on me.

Chrissie Hedges,

age 16,

been in care since
she was 2 1/2.

5 foster placements,

6 children's homes,

4, maybe 5 suicide
attempts.

Real ones?

Oh, you can tell
the difference then,

can you?

Sometimes it's just what
they call "cutting--"

watching the blood
spurt out--

so they know they're there.

Proof of existence.

It's the girls mostly.

Boys have other ways.

You know a lot about it.

Kids from
a children's home

used to come
to our school.

It's depression,
you see,

and low self-esteem.

They've been
in care so long.

Not so much
a death-wish,

more of a life-wish.

Wish for
a different life.

Yeah.

So, she leaves
her young baby

hidden among
the crisp packets

at the railway station

and legs it to
God-knows-where.

[Whistle]

Am I not coming
with you then?

Not this one.

Not today.

You need me.

This is our
first job for...

for a long time.

And maybe we
won't get it.

But it's beyond Bolton.

We can't afford
your fare, Jeffrey.

One of the few advantages
of reaching my age

is the bus pass.

I'll hold
the fort then.

You hold the fort.

The phone may ring again.

Oh, one small thing
you could do for me...

but only if you
find your board,

is peel a few potatoes
ready for tonight.

Come on.

Good morning.

Hetty Wainthropp,
private investigator.

Oh, no, you're not.

Oh, yes, I am.

Quick! Inside!

Oh!

One evil eye from that
window over there

and you'll wither
on the spot.

We've got one of
those where I live.

A private detective.

Ha. I don't believe it.

I suppose I should
have brought

a recommendation from
the chief constable

of Lancashire.

Fetch me
the Magna Carta

signed by
Barry Manilow,

and you still couldn't
detect a gas leak

with a blowtorch.

Then why did you phone me,
wasting my time and money?

You were the cheapest.

We're doing a special
rate at the moment.

Course you are.

You'd have to,
wouldn't you?

[Plays piano]

I've got an apple
in here.

� Why does the cow
wear 4 legs? �

� Why, oh, why,
oh, why? �

My hat!

If you're a detective,

tell me who I am?

Alice Endersby.

I's was.

Alice Baynes now.

[Both laughing]

Oh, I might have known!

You never could get
the words right.

Play!

� Why has a cow got 4 legs? �

� I must find out somehow �

BOTH: � You don't know �

� And I don't know �

� And neither does the cow �

What do the initials
"S" and "M" mean to you?

Sausage and mash?

Why? Is there
room service?

HETTY: Oh!

Ho, ho!

[Laughing]

Hetty Ponselby,

A.K.A. Little Miss
Chuckles Chinchilla.

[Laughing]

All that wriggling
about in fur

and fishnet tights!

And that squeaky
voice you put on

when you wrinkled
your nose to giggle.

Oh, I had the devil
in me in those days.

Oh, still have,
by the look of it.

I saw your picture
in the local paper.

They used
the wrong profile.

"Super-Gran Sleuth."

All right.

Showed 'em what to
do with an old woman

dead on the stairs.

I cut it out
and kept it.

Then when I needed
a bloodhound myself,

I remembered
Chuckles Chinchilla.

[Laughing]

MAN: It's nothing
untoward really, you know.

Just adds to the excitement.

[Baby cries]

HETTY: It must be
quite a challenge

being a foster
mother.

When did you start?

When we knew we couldn't
have any of our own.

After Jim died,
I just kept on.

Would you like
to change him

while I do his bottle?

Well, uh...

It's like riding a bicycle.

You never forget.

Ha ha ha ha.

Now the social services
seem to take a delight

in me sending me
the difficult cases

like Chrissie.

Total cost of
damage by age 13:

�16,864.

The precise way
they total it up.

They must know
it will make

the kids
competitive.

She reckons the best
year of her life

was the one she spent
in a secure unit

when she were 9.

Knew who she was,
what she was.

Didn't have to
think about it.

Rest of her life
has been spent

either on the run
or being returned.

Was she pregnant when
she came to you?

Mmm. 5 months.

We knitted and shopped
and planned.

First I thought the baby
would be the making of her.

She was too heavy to
run before she had him,

too tired after.

But now she knows
perfectly well

that your besotted
with him.

As far as she's
concerned...

you've got two
foster children,

so she can come and go
as she pleases.

Right.

You're not such a bad
detective after all.

Hey, he saves up
his wee-wee

until you start
changing him,

so watch his
line of fire.

Ha ha ha ha ha!

You want me
to find her?

No, she always
comes back.

That's not the problem.

Watch out! Rawhide!

Oh, yes!

Oh, that's
the spirit.

Oh, oh, I love you.

Yes! Oh.

Sting me, hurt me,
hurt me!

Oh, yes, yes!

Oh, oh, oh!

[Moaning]

[Door closes]

ALICE: I wanted
the Paul Newman film,

but I set the damn
thing wrong as usual,

and got the local news.

That's the problem.

That's your Chrissie?

That's the fire at
Preston last week.

What's Chrissie
doing there?

Watching.

Why?

People do.

That year she spent
in the secure unit

was for setting fire
to a school.

There have been
two house fires

in the Northwest
within two weeks,

both started
deliberately.

But nobody hurt.

They were all
away on holiday.

And both times...

Chrissie was doing
one of her roamers.

MAN: Somebody
help me please!

Help!

What do you
want me to do?

Prove she didn't do it.

You can't prove
a negative.

You can if you find
the person who did do it.

And if Chrissie did it?

Alice?

I can't shop her.

I'm the only person
she trusts.

If I shop her,
then she's nobody.

If I find out she
setting fire to house,

I'll shop her.

Next time there might
be somebody home.

That's your decision.

You're taking a risk.

[Lock opening]

There's a perfectly
simple explanation

to all of this,
I assure you.

MAN: Where are you going?

Anywhere.

I could try to find
out where she goes

and what she gets up
to when she runs away.

Well, it's a start.

A lost children's home
is 10 minutes away.

She still has
a few friends there.

I'll get you
the address.

I hope you don't
mind me asking...

I couldn't help noticing...

that hair is not
your own, is it?

[Giggles]

So...

cooking isn't throwing
in a bit of this...

BOY: If you
do find out,

wouldn't it
be smashing?

I'm told she won't let
on who the father is.

No, she won't.

Is that because of this
child-support what's-it,

making the father pay,

or she because she
slept around so much

she doesn't know who
he is herself?

She knows.

She just
won't share.

And you want to share.

You won't tell
anyone, will you?

She won't let
anyone share Fred...

but she keeps
keeps dumping him

and running away.

Why?

Well...

when they first
put you into care,

you're nothing.

So, you have no respect
for anything right.

Maybe.

...swallow up your whole
food budget for the week.

You will now remember that
there are alternatives

to mince.

Thank you.

He's all yours,
Mrs. Wainthropp.

Get him to write
down cooking terms

and ingredients.

He'll never guess
at prices.

Right.
See you.

See you.

When you're free
after years

in a place like this,
it's a bit of a shock.

You get into
everything...

drink, drugs,
shoplifting,

quick fixes.

They take us into care
because we've been

deprived of
love or money.

And then they wonder why
we end up in the game.

[Rock music playing]

ANNOUNCER: News flash for
all would-be Sherlocks.

Someone's setting
the Northwest alight--

it's official.

Police are now convinced
that house fires

in Preston and Bolton
were deliberate

though seemingly
motiveless arson attacks

almost certainly by
the same person.

The insurance
companies concerned

have combined to offer
a reward of �15,000

for information leading
to an arrest.

[Music resumes]

WOMAN: A week?

I hardly ever use
it these days,

but even so.

All right, Jeff,
a week.

And a full tank
and a clean plug

this time please when
you bring it back.

Two helmets,
I suppose, as usual.

One will do this
time, thanks.

Put it on.

Let's have
a look at you.

What, now?

Well, I'm not making
an appointment of you.

Yes.

That should do nicely.

Many's the time
I've turned from

3 C's blackboard
to glimpse you

ducking behind Deirdre
Turner's hairdo,

and thought,
"one day, that boy

will have his
moment center stage."

If you'll be kind enough
to stand in this hole

with just your
head protruding

while I snap at you with
my faithful Instamatic.

I was going to get
down there myself.

But you and that helmet
wearing your famous

"please help me 'cause I'm
only small" expression

is a much better idea
for the "Record's"

funny photo competition.

This is to be my year
for winning, Jeffrey.

I'm relying on you.

Does Chrissie know
who her mother is?

No.

She gets notions.

Someone out
of her past

who's been
kind to her.

No real reason.

But Chrissie will
track it down.

Hang about till
she's been rejected,

then give up,
then start all over

with someone else.

Does her foster
mother know?

Mrs. Baynes?

No.

I think she's
a bit caught up,

I mean, she's more than
a usual foster mother.

Fred's special for her.

Chrissie don't
talk about it,

just runs off
and comes back.

Now we turn bits
of meat over.

But you know.

Yeah.

What would she do if
she found her mother?

Ask questions

and hope to believe
the answers.

Stock in, please,
with vegetables.

And you swear on
little Fred's dimples

that you have no idea where
Chrissie is right now.

Casserole cover on...

and into oven.

Better call it

"Wainthropp's
Winter Warmer"

since it was
supposed to be

grandmother's
secret recipe.

Total cost:

�1.50.

Not that you'd
even bother to do it

for one when you
could always buy

a bag of chips.

Well, I've certainly
learned a lot today.

[Grunting]

[Shutter clicking]

I'm not sure
that amount of panic

is more humorous than a
straight face, Jeffrey.

You haven't asked
me why I'm here yet.

I could have the name
of a mass murderer

in my pocket.

If you'd shrunk
the miscreant

and given him house
room in your handbag,

I'd still find it hard
to summon up surprise.

These fires,
this arson...

You want the times
they were reported

and by whom,

names of next-door
neighbors,

addresses of
nearest relatives,

and any other
information

the police are
prepared to give.

How did you--

Let's just say I
may bring a charge

of wasting police time
against Radio Northwest

for all the D.I.Y. detectives
they've sent round here

asking questions that could
easily have been answered

by 10 minutes with the last
week's local papers

at the reference library.

It's closed.

It was open when local radio
told the listening public

about the reward, and it
around here in a bobby.

So, what kept you?

I've come straight
from a client.

Nobody told me
about any rewards.

Straight from a client?

And you want to know
about these fires...

with no hope of a reward?

I don't know what
you're on about.

Then what is the connection,
Mrs. Wainthropp,

between your client
and these fires?

None, I hope.

But if my investigation
is to be blocked

by petty officialdom,

and the fact that
you're manhandling me,

then we may never know.

And the name
of this client?

I said I wasn't
after a reward.

Not that I'm about to
throw in my job and fee.

You know damn well I'm
not the sort of woman

to sit on fires.

If what I find is
a criminal offense,

then you'll be told,
and quickly, too!

What do you want?

If there's another fire,

I want to know at
once and where.

I want to be there.

I want to be sure that
somebody in particular

isn't hanging
about watching.

And if somebody is
hanging about watching?

Client confidentiality stops.

There's her phone number.

As soon as we know,
she knows.

A member of
the public?

She's an extraordinary woman.

Not exactly
Miss Marple, but a...

Mind like
a steel trap.

More like a plate
of pilchers.

You think you've
finished with it,

but somehow it persists.

Oh.

[Man snoring]

HETTY: I'd do that.

It's only shirts.

I don't mean
the ironing.

Oh, my need is greater.

If you've taken over
the laundry as you fancy,

there's a pair of
long johns soaking

in a bucket in the kitchen.

I've done the stairs
as well.

Well, we've
got the case.

Don't suppose it will
make us rich though.

Have you been listening
to local radio

by any chance?

On the bus?

These fires...

There's a reward.

I know about the reward.

We're gonna need
that scooter.

Do you think your friend
will let us have it

for a few days?

Well, funny you should
say that, Mrs. Wainthropp,

just by chance, I have
actually borrowed it

for the entire week.

While you were stuck here
looking after the phone?

The only problem is...

There's only one helmet.

Are you telling me...

You always said I should
use my initiative.

Hell's bells
and little fishes.

I've only to turn my
back for 10 minutes

and Robert's at
the Dubonnet,

and you've started taking
on cases of your own.

Oh!

Oh!

It's probably
doing him good.

Getting out
and about and making

new and exciting
friendships.

Mmm!

Are the staff allowed
discounts at that place

do you know?

[Sirens]

[Telephone rings]

[Ringing]

Wainthropp
Detective Agency.

Huh? Who?

Oh, right.

Police.

WOMAN: Stilettos they were.

Well, I don't sleep,
you see.

So, when I hear this
"tippy tap, tippy tap,"

going up the front
path next door

and then a little
at the letter box,

I thought, "I better go
and have a look see."

Now, you can only see
the front door of number 27

from the spare room.

And I could hear them
still at it again,

tippy tap, tippy tap
down the path

and into the streets.

So, I scurries to
the spare room.

I looked out the window,

and--whoosh!

Up goes the front door
in a sheet of flame!

MAN: Come on, move back.

Move!

What are we
looking for?

Not broken stiletto heels,
I can tell you that much.

Who in their right mind
would wear high heels

to go starting fires?

Oh!

I'm looking to
see where I'm going.

I think I may have
trodden on something.

They walk their dogs
on this estate.

You didn't see anyone
like Chrissie Hedges

back there, did you?

No.

She wasn't there...

thank goodness.

[Siren]

I can give you food
if you're hungry.

Hmm?

I did those people
an injustice.

It's not dogs,
it's plastic.

It's all shriveled up

and there's something
written on it.

Interesting.

I can feel
the little gray cells

beginning to stir.

You want direction,
Mrs. Wainthropp?

How were those other
two fires started,

and probably this one?

Rags soaked in petrol.

And how would
you carry

rags soaked in petrol

to the scene
of the crime?

Plastic carrier bag.

But plastic
doesn't burn at once.

It shrivels up first,

and bits of it
could blow away

and stick to
somebody's shoe.

But that's
forensic evidence,

Mrs. Wainthropp.

If we found anything,

the police
should have it.

And so they shall,

but I've got my own
job to do.

I've taken on a case
in good faith,

and there's
the little matter of

the reward, Geoffrey.

See if you can
make out that writing.

Use Robert's specs
as a magnifying glass.

"Family."

Hey.

We're dealing with
a maniac here.

"Family Butcher."
Burnley, I expect.

It's just a manner
of speaking.

I don't think
they ever do

butcher families
these days.

Not even in Burnley.

Ready for breakfast?

MAN: Are you one of
them amateur detectives?

Just a few questions.

It's 50 pound
for an interview,

15 if you take photos
inside the house,

and 10 for an Eccles
cake and a mug of tea

in the back garden.
No credit cards.

Can you tell me
where they went on holiday?

5.
It's only a fire,

Mr. Nygate,

not a mass murder.

If you've told
the local press,

I can find out for
the price of a newspaper.

One, then.

One pound in me hand.

50p.

Done. Tenerife.

Excuse me.

I'm doing a survey
on the habits of

the Ribble Valley
meat eater.

I wonder if you can
tell me, roughly,

how many carrier bags
you give away each week.

None.
They're 5p each.

How many do you
sell, then?

Oh, not many.
Folks don't like

to pay for them,
you see.

Are your bags
ever stolen?

Who'd steal
a carrier bag

when you get it
from supermarket for free?

I'll ask the questions.

You concentrate on
the answers.

Can you remember

how many bags
you sold yesterday.

as between
men and women?

No.

Well, there have been
more women.

Always are.

I'd like you to look at
this picture.

No, don't get
blood on it.

I'll hold it for you.

Have you seen
a young woman like that

come in recently?

No.

Thanks for
your cooperation.

Now, I'd like
a bag, please.

5p, you said?

I hope you don't mind
me saying this,

but speaking as an expert
in market research,

if you really want
to sell those pork chops,

you'd do better with
all that fat cut off.

What's she want?

Taking down a peg,
in my opinion.

Met at
Manchester Airport

by a man from
the insurance,

holding up a card
with their names on.

"I'm sorry to say

you're underinsured,"
he said.

"We can't pay out
in full."

"But where are we
to live?" says Muriel.

"Our house is
all burned down.

"We should be accommodated

"in a 4-star hotel

while they rebuild."

"It's not in the policy,"
he says.

and the upshot was,

they've ended up on
a trailer site

outside Padiham--

[Brakes screeching]

[Crash]

[Horns honking]

You're back early.

Ma'am, I got the sack.

What for?

Oh, a bit of
a misunderstanding

with some trolleys.

There's plenty of tea
in that pot.

[Exhales]

I've been
all round Burnley.

Back streets,
town center.

I don't know
what good it's done.

None.

You can't know that.

Yes, I can.

Look, just take
the supermarket.

There's
recycling bins,

and litter bins
all over town.

If I wanted
a carrier bag

to burn down
someone's house,

I wouldn't use
one of me own.

You're too logical sometimes.

It'll make you enemies.

That's as it may be,

but I've found
a piece of your jigsaw.

You what?

One of them couples

whose house burnt down
last week.

They're on a caravan site
near Padiham.

We'll finish our tea

and have something
to eat first.

[Laughter]

[Man coughs]

HETTY: You don't seem
too upset

at having your house
burn down.

MAN: It's only
possessions, isn't it?

You've really no idea

who might have a grudge
against you?

No clue.

Not the Mitchells,
you know.

They thought
their clan

might have something
to do with this.

Well, they've got
a loony nephew, you know,

but he's doing time.

Yeah, and
the Saunders wondered

if theirs was political
in any way.

Oh, well, they used to be
on the local council.

HETTY: Are you saying
you know these other people

whose houses have burned?

There's some connection?

Of course we know them.

We all live in
the same apartment block

in Tenerife.

Eureka.

Uh, excuse me,
Mrs. Wainthropp.

Before the little
gray cells

settle into their stride.

Do the police know about
this connection

between the 3 fires?

Oh, yes.
We've told the police,

who were
very interested.

I mean, 3 fires

in different parts
of Lancashire,

and all of us in
the same apartment block.

Well, it's hardly
a coincidence.

[Fred fussing]

Look, Fred.

Look what the police
sent home.

You've been away
two nights.

Who's counting?
I am.

You've been
with someone.

If you like.

Did he use anything?

[Fussing]

Did he use
a rubber?

What for?
To rub out a mistake?

They can do you for
child abuse these days,

Mother Hobbit.

[Fussing]

Did she feed you?

[Fussing]

[Clears throat]

It does seem
quite clear,

Mrs. Wainthropp.

Apart from that
piece of plastic,

everything we've
managed to find out,

the police
already know.

That plastic
won't run, Hetty.

I told you.

All 3 in the same
apartment block

in Tenerife.

We can't afford
the airfare.

Let's not do this,

since the bus to Bolton

was a major
stumbling block.

I have to say,
Mrs. Wainthropp,

the agency went into
this to prove--

was employed
to prove...

A negative?

And we've
proved it.

If the answer's
in Tenerife,

then Chrissie
can't have had

anything to do
with it.

It'd be dishonest...

to go on taking
the client's money.

Very well.

I shall take this
bit of plastic

to the police station
in the morning,

then go to Alice Baynes,

tell her Chrissie
has got to be in the clear,

and collect our fee.

Geoffrey will return
the scooter.

Case closed.

[Door opens]

[Door slams]

[Fussing]

You want to feed?

I'll give him
his bottle.

There's no need.
I'm back now.

I've got milk.

Your milk stays
where it is

until some tests
have been done.

There's a hot bath
for you upstairs.

More than
your job's worth, eh?

To let me feed Fred,

but you don't know
what I might have caught.

That's right.

Well, me and Fred
aren't much of a job

for someone
with your talents.

Not for someone who
doesn't like failure, no.

You know you're going to
lose him, don't you?

He's a child of
the state, Mrs. B.

A ward of court.

He was never really mine
in the first place.

[Fred fussing]

You found it at
the scene of the fire,

and you took it away.

Trod on it.

I didn't find it
till we got home.

And you kept it
for 24 hours.

You did not keep it
under sterile conditions.

What sterile conditions?

It had been in all
the muck in the street.

Who else
has touched it?

My assistant Geoffrey.

He wanted me to hand
the bit of plastic

over to you.

I took the decision
to keep it.

I may have acted rashly.

And, consequently,

you have forfeited
all cooperation.

I'm asking you
now, officially,

for the name of
your client.

It's confidential,

and, anyway,
I'm now satisfied

that my client had

nothing to do
with these fires.

Look, you know
perfectly well

the connection's
somewhere in Tenerife.

I know the fires
weren't started in Tenerife.

Are you refusing
to assist me

with my inquiries,
Mrs. Wainthropp?

Very well.
Go now, please.

You and your
potty little business

exist on my sufferance.

Remember that.

[Piano playing]

[Dial tone]

[Beeping]

[Indistinct chatter]

It's my mother.

[Machine beeping]

HETTY: Look at this.

Look.

Did you ever see
anything so ridiculous?

"Dunroamin"
on a grave.

It's not at all funny,

and in
extremely bad taste.

Can I just see
the photograph

on the front page?

What?

That's not a bit
like Chrissie.

Is it even a her,
I wonder.

Remember
Percy Higginbottom?

With some reluctance.

We used to have
to strike poses

at the back of the stage

while he pretended to be

Gladys Camiknickers
or some such,

doing that, uh,

"over the garden wall"
patter

he pinched off
the radio.

He stood just like that.

You're right.

Those knees don't belong
to a woman.

Too many knobbly bits.

[Telephone rings]

[Ring]

Hello.
Alice Baynes speaking.

[Singing indistinctly]

BAYNES: Yes, right.
Right. Thank you.

[Hangs up telephone]

She's been arrested.

Something to do with
a credit card.

And for the fires.

You've made a mistake.

Using a stolen
credit card

to obtain goods for which

she was not in
a position to pay.

I don't deny that.

The girl who
stole that credit card

was wearing this wig
and these clothes.

We have
a positive identification.

She wasn't there!

Can you prove that?

Look closer
at that photo.

Look at those knees.

It's blurred.

Taken by an amateur
at night.

You wouldn't know
those knees were knees

except for
their situation

below the thighs
and above the calves.

And your concert
party comedian

used to stand
the same way.

And you're suggesting
he started the fires.

Come along,
Mrs. Wainthropp.

What did I once
try to teach you

about cost effectiveness
in police work?

You won't do
what you can't afford

unless you're forced.

Right.

The first principle
of police detective work

is once you've
settled on a suspect,

don't waste time and money

looking for reasons
why that suspect

should not have
committed the crime.

All suspects are guilty
until proved innocent,

usually some years after
they've been sent to prison,

or, in earlier
times, hanged.

I never know
when you're serious.

I don't always
know, myself,

to tell you the truth.

They're trying to find
a secure unit for me.

Well, you'll know
where you are, then.

Yeah.

Are you sure you don't
want to see Fred?

[Indistinct voices in distance]

I better start trying

to forget him,
haven't I?

Not sure
that's possible, is it?

You really are an old bat
on a broomstick

when you want to be.

She's not guilty and I
intend to prove it.

We'll need the scooter.

I took it back.

Then get it again.

The trouble is,
Miss Apthwaite's

not very pleased
with me.

I didn't look enough
like a tulip

when the chips were down.

Don't prevaricate.

Look. I'll show you.

It was the funny
photos competition.

I wasn't funny enough.
See?

That was the one
that won,

but it
should've been me

with me head poking
out of the flower bed.

Miss Apthwaite's
very disappointed.

No time for
funny photos.

We've a case
still on the boil.

Dunroamin?

That's the name of a house.

That's the name of
the house that

burned down
last week.

And the Dovecote.

That's the other.

GEOFFREY: 74.

74 Arbutiline Avenue.

The third house.

HETTY: "Ethel,
dearly beloved

wife of Stanley."

I don't think we'll
bother the police yet

with this one.

Oh...come on.

I just need
the final confirmation

before we risk all
and go public.

These rags may be
triple-wrapped,

but I can still
smell petrol.

I hate to think
what would happen

if we pass
a heavy smoker.

Nothing venture,
nothing win.

The tape recorder's

pushing me breasts
out of place.

There was a woman just
opposite me on the bus

looking at me
very strange.

Come across.

Now, you want
half a pound of skirt

to be minced
while you wait.

That'll give you time
to chat him up

while he's mincing.

[Click]
Good.

And in case he looks
like trying anything,

I'll be right
behind you.

Let us give thanks
for small mercies.

Don't be cheeky.

One last word.

If you see you're

penetrating
his defenses,

don't hesitate to use
your initiative.

Now, off you go.

Chrissie?

You know it's not.

What have I got here,
Stanley?

[Coughing]

Got a match?

Bit of lighted paper?

Cigarette lighter,
perhaps?

[Rattling]

Say something
to me, Stanley...

even if it's "good-bye."

No!

Hmm. No?
Shall I do another?

[Sobbing]

It's all right.
I wouldn't strike.

I wet them.

Is it your heart?
Do you want pills?

Was it your wife,
Stanley?

Was it
because of Ethel

that you did
the fires?

She had emphysema.

They said the air
was dry in Tenerife.

We spent our savings
to buy a place out there,

but we were cheated.

Those others live in
our apartment now.

And Ethel...

dead.

Wasn't ever
in their apartment.

The firm that was
building the block

went bankrupt,

and the new lot
took over

with no obligation
to the people

who put money down.

He lost his savings
and had to take

what job he could get.

Lucky to get anything
these days.

And Chrissie?

There's no justice.
She won't be charged.

Even the stolen
credit cards.

The man doesn't want
the publicity.

All's well
that ends well.

If you like.

Seems I owe you
an apology.

You do.

Well, I'm offering it.

Well, I'm accepting it.

Thank you very much.

Thank you very much.

Come up.
Come up.

[Piano playing slow tune]

� I'm Burlington Bertie �

� I rise at 10:30 �

� And saunter along like a top �

� I walk down the Strand �

� With me gloves on me hand �

� And I walk down again
with them off �

� I'm all airs and graces �

� Correct easy paces �

� Without food so long,
I've forgot where me face is �

� I'm Bert, Bert,
I haven't a shirt �

� Though my people are
well off, you know �

� Nearly everyone knows me �

� From Smith to Mount Rosebree �

� I'm Burlington Bertie
from Bow �

[Applause]
[New song begins]

[Song ends]
[Cheering]

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