Original subtitles

'Norman Stanley Fletcher,

'you have pleaded guilty to the charges.

'It is my duty to pass sentence.

'An habitual criminal, you accept arrest as an occupational hazard,

'and, presumably, accept imprisonment as casually.

'You will be committed to the full term allowed for these offences.

'You'll go to prison for five years.'

KNOCKING

- Is this true about Fletcher, sir? - What? Good morning, Mr Mackay.

Is this true?

Yes.

Agh...! Definite?

Yes. The Carlisle General verified it.

Where is he now?

Back here. In bed.

COULD it be a mistake, sir?

No. The X-rays are positive.

There's nothing we do?

Nothing.

Agh!

Fletcher, of all people!

That's the way it is!

How long would you say, sir?

Three weeks?

I had him down for this drainage detail.

He's going to have three cushy weeks on his back with a broken ankle!

Thank you, Charlie.

I'll do the same for you some day.

Mr Mackay!

I don't think it's official visiting hours!

- You're a lucky man, Fletcher. - No grapes, then?

I just wanted to verify that you weren't malingering.

My foot IS broken. It's in plaster.

The evidence is irreFOOTable!

He's asleep, look!

Your indisposition is very frustrating, Fletcher.

Not for me it isn't. Plenty of grub in 'ere.

Better beds!

Since you lost your soft library job, I was set to make your life a misery.

I gathered that when you sent me up a 20-foot ladder.

Clean the pigeon droppings out the guttering!

Did you fall intentionally?

Come on!

It's poetic justice. You was out to victimise me,

but you've given me the passport to comfort!

Mind you, I have to put up with Norris.

- That cuts both ways! - Shut it, or I'll hit you with my frying-pan!

Violence, violence! Quiet!

What's the matter?

And you!

He's been on at me all afternoon, Mr Mackay.

I can't blame him for that. You are not the pleasantest of men!

In fact, you're horrible!

I've 'ad surgery!

Ingrowing toenail. Look!

I know the surgery I'D give you, Norris!

Couldn't wait till you got out! Had to overburden the medical system!

- That's what you're doing. - And whose fault is that?

Only four weeks - maximum! I'll soon have you up on your foot.

Not before it's mended!

You're in discomfort, are you?

- Not really. - Come on! It's giving you hell!

No! - Not even the odd twinge?

- Not now the plaster's on! No! - There's no justice!

And the next object is...

..a thwarted screw!

A thwarted screw!

Oohh...

I'm in pain.

- Pardon? - I'm in pain. - Good!

Meals on wheels!

Look, here she comes.

Look, Blanco. What's on the menu, apart from gravy stains?

Braised steak, carrots, mashed potatoes, bananas and custard.

- What's for afters? - Tomato soup.

Hear that, Blanco?

Bananas and custard, mate.

- I've got no appetite. - You must eat. If you don't eat, you'll be ill.

You are ill, ain't ya!

If he don't want his, I'll have it.

No, you will not. Put it by his bed, Lennie. He can eat it later.

Or I will.

- How are you, Fletch? - Fine. You?

- Not as comfy as you. - Yeah...

Lots of carrots.

Don't give him mine.

Shut up!

- Here you are, Fletch. - Ta.

That's looks good.

Here you are, Blanco. I'll leave it there.

- He don't look chipper. - He's fine.

- He's depressed. - He looks at death's door to me.

'Ere, shut up!

You don't talk about death in hospital.

Especially

if you're at death's door like him.

That's a good one, Fletcher.

Well, you gotta laugh else you cry.

- You're cheery. - Life of Riley in here.

Nice day out yesterday. Carlisle hospital. Got plastered.

Lovely nurses down there, you know.

Poking their 'eads round the door and things.

I was the villain, you see. Convict 99. Manacled to a wheelchair.

- Like Ironside, only bent! - Yeah, that's right.

Course, it's my air of villainy what titillated them.

Some had bigger titillations than others!

One ravishing West Indian sister...

- Len, you've had long enough fiddling with that. - That's what she said!

- Can I hear the end of this? - No.

- Tell me later. - It'll keep. - Sleep well. - Yeah.

It's so nice having the cell to myself.

It's so fresh without your feet!

- How d'you think we feel? - Shut up, Norris.

You'll be glad to get out of here, won't you, Norris?

You can be revolting to a larger number of people.

I'll be glad to see the back of him!

I never had many possessions but, in three days, he's had them all!

Is this true?

He had me wireless, me silver snuffbox... Real silver...

Kept snout in it. He had me snout an' all.

- Is this true? - Yeah. Fair and square.

And me musical box what played Waltzing Matilda.

Well, make no mistake, he's gonna give 'em back.

Fair and square. It was cards, wasn't it?

- You never played cards with him? - Brag. Nine-card brag.

- Fair and square. - Give it back, Norris. - Like heck.

Next time, it'll be a full one!

Don't worry, Blanco. I'll get them back for you.

It doesn't matter. What do I need with a Waltzing Matilda musical box?

You've got another two years to do!

I'm going out of here sooner than that.

You can't escape.

You're too old to go over the wall.

Stop watching Colditz!

I'm going out of here in a wooden overcoat.

Now, now. What kind of talk is that?

Me time's up, Fletch. I'm not going to stay the distance.

It's a tired heart, the doctor said.

Tired everything, more like.

Yes... I came in here to die.

You talk rubbish, don't ya?

You're not ready for celestial porridge, mate!

You're not old.

You look old.

That's porridge. Porridge puts years on a man.

It's well-known, that is.

You're 29, ain't ya?

- 63. - 63? That's not old. Most of the government's older than that!

Yeah, and look at the state the country's in.

Mind you, it weren't much better when I was a lad.

Depression... No work.

Took to stealing.

Such a waste.

You know, I spent nigh on half my life inside.

Lost all my family...

..mostly through neglect...

..mine.

That's why I'm resigned to passing on.

Well, more than that - relieved.

Now, listen, there's years of mileage left in you yet!

Look at Charlie Chaplin.

He was over 80 when he fathered his umpteenth child.

Winston Churchill was older than you when he had his finest hour.

As was my Uncle Wilfred.

Aye, what did he do, then?

When he was 72, he married this gorgeous, young dental assistant.

Course, it killed him.

You should have seen the smile on his face when they put him in his coffin, though.

Died with his boots off, then, did he?

Yeah... and his teeth out.

Couldn't get the coffin lid down for three days!

It's a question of how you feel. You're as young as you feel.

For instance, this old man went to the doctor.

He says, "My wife and I aren't getting any pleasure out of sex."

The doctor said, "How old are you?"

"81." "81?"

"How old's your wife?" "79." "79?"

"And you're not getting any pleasure out of sex?"

"When did you first notice this?" "Twice last night and again today."

SNORING

COUGHING

Fletch.

Fletch.

- What...? - I want to talk to you.

What's the matter?

I wanted to tell you something while he's asleep... Is he asleep?

SNORING CONTINUES

Unless he snores while he's awake!

- You see, I've got something of value... - What do you mean?

You know I've got no family. I told you.

The few things I've got - well, Norris has them now -

but I've got one thing that I want to bequeath.

You being morbid?

Practical.

If owt happened, no-one would know about my legacy.

If you wanna make a will, Blanco, you gotta get a solicitor.

We've got one on our landing. He'll see you all right.

He's straight as a die. He'll be all right.

- What's his name? - Corkscrew Carter.

- Nice bloke. - Yes.

- The thing is, my legacy's not the sort you can legalise. - What is it?

Ill-gotten gains, buried in Leeds.

Ill-gotten gains. Say no more.

- Shall I tell you about it? - Not now...

- Well, it were like this... - Dear.

Three of us did a job on a wages van on its way to a fridge factory near Otley. Did you read about it?

- No. - It were all in the Yorkshire Post!

Unless it made Titbits, I'd have missed it.

It was untidy. Lots of things went wrong...

You wouldn't be here otherwise.

Now, the other two were brothers.

There was Jack Barrett and Harry, er...

Barrett, was it?

That's right. Did you know him?

No, only through his brother, like,

you know.

They escaped. They got away in a fishing boat from Bridlington.

Is this going to take long? My foot's gone to sleep. I'd like to follow it!

Not that they knew where the loot was!

Much as I'd like to stroll down felony lane with you...

Cos I was the one with the map.

It's bleedin' Treasure Island now!

£8,000.

How much?

- Eight thousand. - Eight big 'uns?

Aye. Maybe nine.

All in used notes.

Didn't have time to count it.

The paper said it were 15, but that was the company trying to do Lloyds!

I never realised the magnitude of your legacy.

The map's yours, Fletch.

I don't know what to say.

Words fail me, Blanco.

Tell you something, the money will be wisely spent, rest assured.

But, presuming that you don't snuff

it, which we all hope and pray for,

that you don't, I mean,

on your release, you'll want

the map back, I suppose, won't you?

If I do stay the distance, I suppose so, yeah.

- And you trust me to give it you back? - Course I do.

Do you know, in all my life, I don't think anyone's ever shown me that sort of trust -

probation officers, borstal principals, judges...

And yet, here's you, a man who hasn't known me very long, or...

..or shared great intimacy at all, yet you're willing to trust me.

I am that, Fletch,

You must be bleedin' barmy!

GROANING

Who's that? Is that you, Norris?

Norris?

- What's happening? - I think I've been molested!

What is it? What is all this fuss?

- Thank heavens it's you! - Why, Fletcher? What's going on? What's the matter?

- What's going on? - Don't give me that, nerk!

Answer me!

I was awakened by a foreign hand.

A foreign hand?

Norris was over here.

What were you up to, Norris, stealing?

No!

He was rummaging through my pyjamas!

Have you got any valuables there?

Only what I always keep in my pyjamas!

Perhaps he was after your Lemon and Barley.

In my pyjamas? Funny shaped bottle!

You get out in two days! You must be mad to risk losing remission by going back to your nasty habits.

Why do you believe Fletcher?

He's not the sort to cry out in the night over nothing. And what could be worth stealing?

You're not hiding something, are you?

Hiding?

Like a bottle of surgical alcohol or something?

No, I'm not hiding anything, sir.

- I'd better have a look. - No. I want to get some sleep.

Fletcher.

- Let's look here. - Marvellous, innit?

Even on a sickbed,

we're subject to these indignities.

I want to get to the bottom of this.

You're on your way!

Well, I did think I'd get a bit of peace and quiet on this shift,

but there's always one of you up something.

God!

- God. - Where you going now?

It's just occurred to me

that this little farce

has all the elements of diversion.

The entire wing's probably tunnelled out.

- Oi...! - What? - Lights!

He left the door unlocked! It's not good enough.

A burglar could walk straight in here.

There you are, Blanco. Nice bit of marmalade.

What's new in the outside world?

Mackay's in a rotten mood, Villa drew at home,

the water's working if you're quick and it's cauliflower for supper.

See, you miss it all in here.

I missed out the boring bits.

'Ere on your way back, would you get me a newspaper? The Sun.

And something to read, an' all.

I finished them two, see.

Um...

If you would carefully put those books back in the cell for me?

I don't want the nerks to find out about them.

Come on, Godber.

- Cheerio, Fletch. - Drive carefully.

- How's your breakfast, Blanco? - I've had worse.

- I'll have his! - All down your front, you will!

Listen, you two. I'd like a word.

I'll come straight to the point.

It's about last night. I was awake.

I heard!

Heard what?

About the map.

What map is this, then?

Stop peeing around, Fletcher.

'Ere, listen, you could cut me in.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about the map.

The buried gelt!

- Why should we cut you in? - See! There is a map!

All right, there's a map!

All right... OI!

As he says, why should we cut you in?

- Cos I'm going out tomorrow. - So?

Because you don't get out for three years!

Anything could happen to it. They could find it, or build a car park on top of it!

I can keep it safe for you. Put it in the building society!

I know you! You'd invest it in brighter future for yourself.

There wouldn't be any left for us.

You'd spend it on wining and dining northern tarts in night-clubs.

Yeah!

That's what I'd planned to do with it.

Well, you're entitled. It's your money!

If he snuffs it, you'll cop it all!

I'm his chosen benefactor, mate!

You're just someone he can't stand,

and who diddled him

out of his possessions -

like his little Matilda what spins.

But, if you can find the map, I'll cut you in. There you are.

- But... - It's all right. I can't move out of this room, can I?

Yeah...

- That's a deal? - Yeah, but you must find it first.

I reckon I know where you where you hid it.

- You ain't clever enough. - Yeah?

No! AAAHHH!

NURSE!

Godber...

Hello, Norris, come to say your goodbyes have you...? Goodbye!

No, no. it's Fletch. You know

them books he give you, did he leave

a bit of paper in them by mistake?

- Why? - Well, he wanted them and I thought I'd just take them for him.

Paper?

- It's meaningless. - So why do you want it?

I dunno. It's meaningless.

Meaningless, is it?

- Was there a bit of paper here? - Maybe.

'Ere, listen, Godber... I mean Lennie,

How would you like to make some real money? On the outside?

Well, it's no use to me inside!

I got all my gear on the inside.

And my snout, too.

- What? For a piece of paper? - Ask no questions.

You mean, ask no questions because this whatever it is belongs to Fletcher.

This is all behind his back!

Listen, don't you worry about him!

He only worries about number one.

I'm offering you all my back pay.

- And my snout. - Fletcher is my mate.

I've got an antique snuffbox - worth a lot of money.

- He's been good to me. - A music box.

Plays Waltzing Matilda.

Now, look here, Norris...

contrary to popular belief, we're not all without scruples.

Friendship! You can't buy that. Fletcher's shown me a lot of that.

Japanese radio?

All right, done!

Here he comes,

Judas!

The Judas Iscariot of Slade Prison.

- I don't know how he dare show his face. - You betrayed us to Norris. - I did!

- Yes! Did it work? - Like a charm. - Yes!

What have we here? A silver snuff-holder, a Japanese radio, and one Australian music box.

With all thy worldly goods, we thee endow.

Lads... lads.

"WALTZING MATILDA" PLAYS

'Ere, what happened to the extra snout?

- Too much to bring. - We'll split the backpay! - When did you cook this up?

That afternoon when he was bathing.

He believes it.

It's him. Great acting! Course we knew Norris would be earwigging.

- Do you think he'll go straight there? - Yes. The best is yet to come. - He'll be in Leeds by midday.

Then he'll go and buy a shovel.

He'll lie low this afternoon. Won't go till everyone's gone.

We must listen to your radio later. There might be a report on the news.

A man was apprehended while removing a section of turf from the pitch.

'He was a horticulturist of no fixed abode.'