Original subtitles

And I'd like a little golf meself,

you know, but...

Well, granted, it's a nice car, Sonia.

But the xk version with 8 cylinders

under the hood, now, that's something else.

As soon as I take delivery, I'll give you a spin.

Right, Russ.

I'll hold you to that.

Same again, please, love, and whatever you're having.

Shan't be a moment.

how's that?

Very smart.

Is that a second post?

Well, junk mail delivery.

Yes. A dark suit, a crisp shirt.

You can't beat it.

I always said, funerals suit you.

Were you expecting something

from Whitby?

No. Not really.

I shouldn't cancel my hair appointment,

should I?

No, no, no. We'll be back well before then.

What if we're asked back?

I can always do the honors.

You didn't know Charlie that well, did you?

And some things cannot be put off.

Cheeky.

I did tell you it was a long shot, love.

Your cousin's probably moved on long since.

You're probably right.

I was just passing. Any joy?

What do you think?

What have you got there, then?

Something that Adie forgot to take with him.

Left a forwarding address, did he?

And his phone number.

Maybe I'll call him and get him to pick it up.

Seems a shame now you've wrapped it so nicely.

Why don't they just say it, then?

Security, I suppose.

Go for it.

No, thanks.

When I think of visible deterrent, I think of you.

Yes.

It was sudden, all right.

Still, 73. Not a bad innings.

How's your better half? Still sleuthing?

Aye.

Yeah. Yes, I thought I caught

a glimpse of her at the church.

Yes. She had to shoot off.

As in business?

Anything that might interest our news desk?

You should know better than to ask.

Sorry, Hetty.

I'll be with you in a tick.

That's all right.

Now, then how are you?

I'm well looked after, thank you.

So have a cup of tea and get your breath back.

I'm fine. I'm just a bit flustered,

that's all.

I visited the hospital,

and I got stuck in the traffic.

Make a cup of tea for Mrs. Halliwell, Julie.

The hospital?

Nothing serious, I hope.

Not with me. I was visiting Russell.

They're quite worried about him.

He's been beaten up and fractured his skull.

Beaten up? Why?

Well, he says he doesn't know.

Was it for money or valuables?

Apparently not.

He was having a lunchtime drink.

He went to the gents'.

And this man just laid into him.

There was no argument. Nothing.

But that's dreadful. Did he know the man?

He says he'd never seen him before.

You can't believe it, can you?

No.

What do the police say?

They know who did it.

They arrested him straight away.

Well, that's good.

What'll happen to Charlie's column?

Well, we'll find another writer, and it will appear

as usual.

Joe elder is dead. Long live Joe elder's column.

He had a particular turn of phrase

did Charlie.

I think I'll know if someone else

has written it.

You might. But thousands won't.

So would he need any experience,

Charlie's replacement?

Well, not particularly. No.

You've got to be 60-plus, opinionated,

and able to scribble a few plain words.

If you think of anybody,

give me a call.

You're gonna be writing Charlie's column

before the ink's even dry on his last offering?

It's not his column. It's been written

by umpteen people over the years.

I know that. It just seems a bit insensitive

to be planning it all at his funeral.

In a paper near you, Robert Wainthropp is

Joe elder.

I'm impressed.

What are you gonna write about?

I have no idea yet.

Joe elder's supposed to have strong opinions.

I've always left those sort of things to you.

I'll go.

Hello, dawn.

Hetty. Can I have a word?

Of course. Come in.

Thank you.

The police went to see Russ this afternoon

about the assault.

He's asked them to drop the charges.

Drop them? Why?

He told them that Scholes,

the man who attacked him,

had made a counter-accusation.

What sort of accusation?

That Russ had made an approach to him.

Russ wouldn't elaborate. He was too disgusted.

He said it was adding insult to injury.

What do the police say?

Well, they think it's a smear

to make Russ back off.

They'd like to take this thug to court,

but Russ thinks that the mud might stick.

Understandable, I suppose.

But what about the next victim

who happens to get in this man's way?

That's it, though, isn't it?

Was Russ really picked out at random?

What are you saying, dawn?

I want you to find out if he's got himself

into something that he can't handle.

Like what?

I'm not asking any favors, Hetty.

I'll pay the price.

Yeah. Russ is a regular.

Not every day, but 2 or 3 times a week.

And what about Scholes?

No.

I've seen him around, though.

He works at a gym not far from here.

Was Mr. Halliwell talking to him?

No. He was at the bar.

Scholes was over at the fruit machine.

On his own?

As far as I can remember.

When Russ went to the gents',

did Scholes follow him, or was he already in there?

Look, it's like I told the police.

I was behind, the day getting on...

So, really, I'm not sure.

But I think he went in after Russ.

And no words, angry or otherwise,

had passed between them.

No. Now, are you sure

I can't get you a drink?

No, thank you. We don't drink on duty.

'tis serious stuff, then.

Do you have any thoughts

on why Mr. Halliwell was attacked?

Not really.

Russ is a really nice fella.

He'll buy any bit of your drink.

Especially those of the opposite sex.

Well, I guess.

He does have a bit of a twinkle.

Thank you.

Eureka!

I spend days down at the job center

getting absolutely nowhere,

and you step into some dead man's shoes?

Now, don't you start.

Maybe I should check the obituary column first.

You sure you're not getting too picky?

I want a job driving forklift trucks,

not the r.A.F. Shuttle.

I can drive them, and I can maintain them.

Maybe so, but there are not many Lasses

in that line of work, are there?

You should never have given up that job

at the garage.

Adie Atherton.

Where?

Up there. He must have posed for the sign painter.

Don't talk daft.

Just look at those muscles

and that full canteen of teeth.

He's the spit.

He's moved out of Janet's flat.

Now, get him out of your mind, Geoffrey.

Easy to say, but he throws a very long shadow.

Hello.

Hello. Are you in charge here,

mister...

Scholes. Dean Scholes. What can I do for you?

This is my nephew.

I'm thinking of buying him a membership

as a birthday present.

Come in. I'm show you around.

This room floor in the gym for the aerobics,

circuits, stretching exercises.

In here, cardio-vascular room.

Step-ups, bikes, rollers.

Jarring on the joints kept to a minimum,

but plenty of hammer on the ticker.

All right, Donna?

Down here,

the weights room.

Loads of poundage for bodybuilding,

if that's what you're after.

I'm not sure yet.

I'm not exactly what you'd call

chunky.

No.

He's been poorly.

I did wonder.

Come on. It looks like your auntie's present

has come in the Nick of time.

The answer is maybe.

But I think he ought to have a go

before I spend my money.

Dean Scholes.

Just enough brains to be bothersome.

Why haven't you charged him?

I'm sure you know why. Scholes claimed

that Halliwell made

advances of a sexual nature.

Do you believe that?

No.

So why was he assaulted?

Scholes is a thug. He doesn't need an excuse

to thump anyone.

Russell Halliwell was in the wrong place

at the wrong time. Is that what you're saying?

Have you met Scholes yet?

Yes. At the gym, where he works.

Off the record, we think Scholes has

an under-the-counter business

selling steroids to bodybuilders.

Illegal, of course,

but we don't have any firm evidence.

The attack on Halliwell might be connected.

An unpaid debt, perhaps.

Russell Halliwell said he'd never seen Scholes before.

Well, he would, wouldn't he?

What are you doing here?

Reporting in. What else?

How is he?

Well, he's on the mend.

He thinks he might be out tomorrow.

We'd better get a move on, then.

Why? What did you find out?

Not a lot.

I want you to give me a bit more information.

What about?

Have a look at his bank statements,

credit card statements, itemized phone bills.

Is there a problem?

Well, we've always kept separate accounts.

And what with my business, I didn't want any confusion.

Very sensible.

Well, having laid down the law,

it's wrong for me to pry into his things now.

What you mean is, that's what you're

paying me to do.

Well, I think...

dawn.

The next time he could be really hurt.

What?

So far all we know for certain is

that Scholes isn't a jealous husband,

because he isn't a married man.

But we're equally sure that this attack was

not a matter of chance.

It wasn't?

We think that Russ was this man's target.

And for all we know, he still is.

What do you want?

What do you think?

Trouble with the car?

Can I come in?

What for?

Janet, I can't stand not seeing you.

You're gonna have to come up

with something better than that.

All right.

I'll hoover right through

without any obligation.

Come in.

Did Mr. Wainthropp tell you how I've been?

What do you mean?

Dead miserable.

No. He didn't.

Well, I am.

What have you got to be miserable about?

You've got a job with bed and board thrown in.

Well, I haven't got you.

And if I haven't got you,

then I've got nothing.

If you had any gumption at all,

you could have been here every night, hoovering.

I've said I'll tell them.

Yeah.

Well, I've been like a son to them, Janet.

I have to do it right.

Too late. I've got to get another lodger or move out.

No. I'll do it. I just have to pick my moment.

Keep talking. I'm all ears.

Well, as a minor royal has agreed to open

the extension to the wire works,

what about a piece on the monarchy?

I had a number of very interesting views

on my recent trip to Australia.

Charlie did that, too.

Well, what about-. Hazardous waste...

not in my backyard!

Charlie did that, too.

Right. Cheers.

No good, any of them.

Dear.

What was it you wanted to ask me about?

Hmm?

Something you wanted to discuss.

That? Yeah.

No. that can wait.

What's the story?

We're customers.

You take a look around the trade counter.

I'll do the retail displays.

I'm sorry.

They're quite small, aren't they?

They're standard size, madam.

May I help?

Thank you, yes.

I came in to see Mr. Halliwell.

Sorry. Mr. Halliwell's off sick.

Nothing serious, I hope.

Well, he's been badly injured.

An accident?

An assault.

An assault?

He's in a real mess, apparently.

Are you a friend of his?

A friend of a friend.

I always understood he was an amiable sort of person.

Yes. Of course, some people here

were always saying he'd come unstuck.

Why is that?

Well, it's no secret, really.

Russ could get a bit over-familiar.

Not with me, of course.

No, no.

So the attacker could have been over a woman, you mean.

Everything all right?

Yes, Mr. kenyon.

This lady was asking for Russ.

Well, I'm afraid he's not in today.

So I gather.

Injured in shocking circumstances, I hear.

This lady's a friend, Mr. kenyon.

The friend of a friend.

I see. Well, I'm sure Russ will have

all the friends he needs

when he comes back.

Now, is there anything I can do to help you?

Hey.

George Bernard Shawcross.

Hey, Mose! How's it going?

Yeah. Pretty fair. How's yourself?

Not bad, yeah?

So what are you doing here?

I'm a test pilot

for harrier jump jets.

Storeman, right?

Yeah. You always were sharp.

Yeah.

What happened, then?

Good to see you, Mose.

Yes!

And there's another range you should look at.

Thank you. No more for now, Mr. kenyon.

My husband's allergic to glossy brochures.

They bring him out in a rash.

Private investigator? Straight up.

Yup.

So what are you doing here?

Just looking around.

You're here on a job.

Shh! Keep it down.

You are. What is it? Who is it?

Russ Halliwell. You know him?

Sure. Somebody lumped him.

Yeah. What can you tell me about him?

Nothing now. Here's the boss.

I'm supposed to be working. See you, mate.

What's the matter?

I won't be a moment. Mose!

Mose!

Fancy a drink?

Yeah. When?

Tonight. 8:00, three tons.

All right, see you there.

You really lost it?

Right. Don't you tell.

I told you what happened.

All right.

It's as simple as that. Got it?

You'll do yourself a mischief.

What are you doing here?

I came to see what you were up to.

This is not a spectator sport,

Mr. Wainthropp.

It's not a sport at all in my book.

What do you want to go torturing yourself

like this for?

I'm not. I'm working.

Yes. That Adrian fellow has a lot to answer for.

What's that supposed to mean?

I think you know.

And there's another fellow

you want to steer clear from.

Scholes? He's the one I'm watching.

Yeah. I just saw him working the fellow over

in the back room.

Good evening. Need some help?

No, thanks. Just checking on my young fellow here.

Aye.

He's my Uncle.

Well, he's in good hands, Uncle.

Right. I better leave it to him, then.

You and me should have a little talk about diet.

A lad like you needs a bit of help

to bulk himself up.

How do you mean?

Supplements. I can do some at a good price.

Take my word for it.

Your body could look like a sack full of congers

in no time.

Are you sure it was kenyon?

Positive.

And what's he doing with a man like Scholes?

More to the point, what was Scholes doing with him?

Here's Mose.

Mose.

All right.

Hey, hey.

What are you having?

A bitter.

A pint of bitter, please, Sonia.

You brought your mother.

Shh. She's the boss.

She doesn't look much like a private detective.

No. That's the point.

Yeah, I'm sorry I had to dash this afternoon.

That's all right.

Is that your job, driving

the forklift trucks?

Not likely. No. I'm just filling in

until they find someone.

That wouldn't mean there's a job going

for an experienced driver?

Why?

I know someone who's looking.

1.47, please.

Keep the change.

Thank you.

Come on.

Mrs. Wainthropp, this is Graham Mosely.

Call me Mose.

What does your mother call you?

Graham.

Then that will do for me.

Geoffrey says you know Russell Halliwell.

Yeah. We work at the same place.

Have you any idea why he's been assaulted?

Not for sure, but I know a few

who weren't surprised.

Oh?

Yeah. He thinks a lot of himself, this Russ.

Shh. Shh. Shh.

I mean, I quite like him because he's

always giving me his chat-up lines.

Yes. We hear he's very popular with the ladies.

Yeah. All of them,

if you believed everything he said.

But not quite so popular with the gentlemen.

What does Mr. kenyon make of him, for example?

He's not all that fussed.

A few months ago, Russ and kenyon

applied for the top job,

and Russ lost out.

I see. How did he take it?

Badly. Especially when kenyon started

to reorganize the place.

Now Russ reckons he's been demoted.

So every chance he gets,

he puts the knife in.

How?

Rubbishing Kenyon's management,

dishing the dirt on his wife.

Kenyon's wife?

Yeah. Paula kenyon

used to work at the warehouse.

Go on.

Well, she used to be a girlfriend of Russ'.

Serious, they say,

but he wouldn't leave his wife.

And now Russ is saying she married kenyon

on the rebound and that he's seeing her again.

Halliwell is seeing Paula kenyon.

That's what he says.

Sour grapes, I reckon.

I mean, the guy's all mouth.

Oh? Are we off?

I am. You stay and enjoy yourself with Graham.

I fancy a taste of these sour grapes. Ta-ta.

I didn't ask for victim support.

I appreciate that, Mr. Halliwell.

My services are entirely optional.

Who told you about me?

The police have a list. It's confidential, of course.

You see...

When somebody's the victim of an attack like this,

it affects their confidence badly,

more so than if they had known their attacker

or the reason for it.

Would it help to talk?

I doubt it.

Was the man drunk?

No.

What did he say?

Not a word.

Nothing?

This is completely confidential, Mr. Halliwell.

Did you say anything to him?

No.

You have no idea why he did this to you?

None. Now, look, if you don't mind,

I just want to get out of here and forget it.

Yes!

Gerald, I just caught you.

Yes. I'm sorry. A bit pushed. What was it?

My idea for the Joe elder column.

Narcissism, the new religion.

Go on, then.

Well, it came to me after I'd been

to one of them fitness centers

that are springing up everywhere.

Churches... dark and empty.

These places lit like beacons.

The fanatics worshipping their own bodies.

Mirrored walls, would you believe?

Body or soul. Is that the idea?

Aye.

Yes. Sounds quite promising. Do it.

Janet Frazer? Right. This way.

There was nothing unusual

in his bank statement or the phone bill.

But there are two entries on his credit card statement

I couldn't fathom...

one for a place called knack Knicks

and one for blooms 'r' us.

All right, dawn.

We'll follow them up.

Well, I better get these back where I found them.

He's coming out today.

It'll be lovely to have him home again.

Guess what.

I got it!

You knew?

I couldn't help making a phone call?

Not just any job, the job...

forklift truck operative.

It just trips off the tongue, doesn't it?

Come here.

One for you and one for your old schoolmate.

The old boy network alive and trucking.

Thanks.

Nothing to it.

Once they saw you, the job was yours.

Yeah. It's wet.

Yeah. I've just come from the gym.

I had a quick shower and go.

I thought you only had the trial membership.

Well, I told them I still couldn't decide

and coaxed another two visits.

Can you, can you feel the difference?

What do you mean?

Well, am I bit lumpier?

I'm not sure I like lumps.

Well, in all of the right places.

I thought it was obvious

that I like my men lean and wiry.

Yeah, but...

as long as you can take the cork off that bottle.

That's all the muscle I need in a bloke.

Anything heavier,

I can handle meself.

I think I'll go up.

Right.

500 words exactly.

Well done.

How many was it you started with?

2,400.

I think your style was destined

for a bigger newspaper, Robert.

I got carried away.

"Body or soul?"

It needed saying, Hetty.

Absolutely.

It'll make a few fitness fanatics

sit up and think.

Well, I hope you're not going to sit up and think

for too much longer.

Geoffrey's got his key, has he?

Yes. But something tells me

he won't be using it tonight.

Oh?

Did he say anything?

I think he's been trying to.

I suppose they're sensible enough

to know what they're doing, Robert.

Yes.

Yes, I think so.

Good night.

Good morning, madam.

Good morning.

I wonder if you could solve a little mystery for me.

What's the problem?

About a month ago while I was abroad,

I asked my son to phone a gift of flowers

to a friend.

His credit card statement shows that a charge was made,

but my friend said she never received them.

I see. What's the name?

Halliwell.

The transaction was dated the 18th.

I'll just check.

Thank you.

Roses ordered by Mr. r. Halliwell

and delivered on the 18th.

But was it to the right person?

"Paula kenyon, 43 Buckingham drive"?

Yes. That's her. How strange.

In fact, I delivered some more flowers myself

to this address a week or so ago.

To Paula kenyon?

Yes. Her husband accepted them.

Perhaps he could help you clear up the confusion.

You disappoint me, Geoffrey.

I thought you were made of sterner stuff.

Mrs. Wainthropp, there are places

even the toughest gumshoe shouldn't go.

Never mind. We've got what we need.

I suppose you and Janet

were out celebrating last night.

We stayed in.

With a take-away and wine.

Very nice.

It was.

I had too much to drink to risk driving back.

I see.

Somewhere safe to put the car at Janet's,

is there?

Just around the back.

That's handy.

In fact, I was thinking of parking it there

on a more permanent basis.

Yes. I rather thought you might.

You don't mind, do you?

It's not for me to mind, Geoffrey.

You're old enough to know your own.

Cheers, Mrs. Wainthropp.

Mrs. kenyon?

Yes.

May we trouble you for a moment?

Well, how can I help?

We're investigating the circumstances

surrounding the assault on Russell Halliwell.

Russ Halliwell?

You do know that he's been injured?

No. I'm sorry. Should I?

I thought your husband might have mentioned it.

No. I think you must have the wrong person.

You do know Russell Halliwell?

Yes. Of course I do. But that doesn't mean

he's a topic of conversation

in this house.

I see.

So if you don't mind...

I appreciate your concern for privacy, Mrs. kenyon,

but I do think you can help us.

Who are you working for?

Mrs. Halliwell.

She sent you. Does she know you're here?

No.

Nor does she know

that her husband has been sending you flowers.

The Joe elder column on the dot.

Hey, they will get it, won't they?

Aye.

I was in love with him.

Stupid, really. I knew what he was like.

When it became obvious, he was

never going to leave dawn, I finished it.

Martin joined the firm shortly thereafter.

We got married. I left work.

That's it, really.

As far as I'm concerned, Russ Halliwell is history.

Then why is he sending you flowers?

To upset Martin.

Ever since Martin got the manager's job

ahead of Russ,

he's been trying to foul things up.

In what way?

By trying to undermine him at work.

And at home?

I've told Martin, as far as I'm concerned,

he's got nothing to worry about.

Funny thing, though, worry,

when it takes a hold.

What has any of this got to do with an assault on Russ?

Your husband's a member of a fitness club.

Yes.

A man named Scholes helps to run it.

Has he ever mentioned him?

I don't think so.

We think they're on close terms.

So what?

It was Scholes who beat up Russ Halliwell.

So what you're saying,

that because Martin knows this guy,

he must have had something to do with it?

We have to ask the question.

Martin hates violence.

Whatever the provocation?

No question. I know him.

What did you do with the flowers?

The flowers? Well, I threw them

straight in the bin.

And the same with the second lot?

Second lot?

The flowers that were delivered here

a few days ago.

Didn't your husband tell you?

Halliwell was making Kenyon's life a misery.

So he gets Scholes to beat him up. Q.E.D.

But in that case, why didn't Scholes say anything

to warn Halliwell off?

I don't know.

Neither do I, Geoffrey.

I think Mr. Scholes may be working

to a completely different agenda.

Not bad?

I reckon she's nearly as good as she said she was.

Mr. kenyon?

Mrs. kenyon on the phone for you.

Yeah. Right. Tell her I'll call her back.

Mrs. kenyon?

Yes.

Dean Scholes.

I'm sorry. My husband's out.

No matter. It's you I came to see.

Right.

Would you like to leave of your own accord

or did you want security to deal with you?

When a company employee is seriously injured,

Mr. kenyon, it's surely your duty

to assist inquiries.

By implicating meself in some absurd story

dreamt up by you?

Do you deny that Russell Halliwell

is pestering your wife?

I'm denying you any more of my time.

If I catch either of you spying on me or my wife in the future,

I shall call the police.

Kenyon. What is it?

Paula, are you all right?

W... what did he want?

No. I'm coming now.

Lucy, I'm going out.

Take my visitors off the premises, will you?

What do you reckon?

When in doubt, Geoffrey,

head for the sound of gunfire.

I told you. You should have...

I know!

But I told you.

But I can't do it when he's threatening you, can I?

Martin, they'll listen to you.

What do you want me to do?

Shut it.

Now, what do you want?

Who called, Mrs. kenyon? Was it Scholes?

We may be able to help you.

Martin...

What the hell you let these two in for?

We need help.

They've come to bury me, stupid.

Well, would you rather deal with that thug?

I said, leave it to me, all right?

And will you be here when he comes again?

Tell us how you got involved with Scholes,

Mr. kenyon.

There's no other way.

Things have been building up between me

and Russ Halliwell.

Paula told me not to be drawn

by losing control at work

and starting to doubt her word.

Of course, when the second lot of flowers came,

well...

It just got to me, didn't it?

I have no idea why I confided in Scholes.

Desperation, I suppose.

Go on.

He said he'd have a quiet word

with Halliwell for me, warn him

about giving me any more grief.

Scholes said he was going to talk to Halliwell.

Yeah. Just talk.

When it happened to him, I couldn't believe it.

I was expecting the police to call any minute.

Why?

Well, it would seem like I had sent Scholes on to him,

wouldn't it?

I can see that, yes.

But as long as you haven't paid him

any...

you hadn't, had you?

Scholes told me he had a cash problem.

In return for doing me this favor,

he suggested I buy a load of the bodybuilding rubbish

he sells.

Well, he said I could swap it or use it meself.

It was a trap, of course.

And now he wants more money

for keeping quiet about Martin's part in it.

If this comes out, I'll lose me job, me house.

Everything.

Have you paid any more?

No. No. That's why he came around

and threatened Paula. Well, I told him

I haven't got any when it happened.

But it won't end there. Tell her.

He wants me to organize something at the warehouse.

Organize what?

A credit account under a false company name

so as he can just roll up

and take what he wants.

I shouldn't be feeling sorry for him.

But caught between Halliwell's stupidity

and this thug Scholes,

the man had no chance.

I don't do deals, Mrs. Wainthropp.

I know that.

Martin Kenyon's just hoping for some recognition

for helping to bring Scholes to book.

Of course, once you explain

to Mrs. Halliwell why her husband

was assaulted, we may be forced

to reopen the case.

Kenyon accepts that.

But he'd just have to take his chances.

No promises.

Message understood, chief inspector.

That's our man.

I can handle these, then.

It's no problem.

I said, I can handle it. Back in a sec.

I think he's sussed us.

He's away.

I'm arresting you with extortion and assault...

Are you all right?

So how long are you going to keep me in suspense?

What do you mean?

You were going to discuss things with Russ.

That.

Well, the Kenyons have moved on.

And I didn't see any point in going into the details

with Russ.

I'm glad.

You know, I hired you to put my mind at rest, Hetty.

And now that you have,

I'd like to draw a line under it.

I thought that's what you'd say.

But, you know, this time, I really think

that Russ has turned over a new leaf.

So how's that?

That's really nice, dawn. Thank you.

No doubt Robert will want to take me out

for a slap-up meal now.

We share the same philosophy, you and I...

the triumph of hope over experience.

It's only me.

Did you get one?

Let me get me coat off first.

Come on.

There. You have it.

All packed?

Ho. More or less.

I have left a few things here for now.

Well, collect them

when you're ready.

It'll seem a bit quiet.

Just Robert and me again.

This is still my work h.Q., though, isn't it?

Yes. Of course it is.

It's not in.

My piece, it's not in.

Are you sure?

The Joe elder column's always on page 5.

Well, perhaps it's in a new position.

I've looked.

If we're going to have literary tantrums,

it looks as though

you're making a wise move.

I need to speak with the editor.

Could I speak to Gerald Hawkins...

I've already said my piece to Mr. Wainthropp.

What about?

How you've made me feel part of the family

around here.

It's been our pleasure, Geoffrey.

I'll always be grateful.

I just hope Janet and me can prove

we're doing the right thing.

You don't have to prove

anything to me, Geoffrey.

I'd rather you were tying the knot properly.

I won't pretend otherwise.

But I've seen enough of you both

to believe you'll make each other happy.

That's the important thing.

It's been held over.

Held over?

To a future date... sometime never.

Why?

It was too controversial,

too hot for the "Ackersley echo"

to handle.

Is that what they said?

Well, words to that effect.

They said there was a conflict

between my article

and the two-page advertising feature

they'd sold

to physical fitness clubs.

Guess who won.

Robert, I am sorry.

Will you still get paid, Mr. Wainthropp?

Of course I'll... that's not the point.

What happened to the freedom of the press?

Look, if it's going to upset you so much,

we'll throw the typewriter out.

Leave it where it is.

If they thought that article was strong,

wait till they get the next one.

Bravo, Robert.

I've not seen him fired up like this

since Ackersley angel won

the grandstand greyhound cup.

I'd better be off.

Do you think

I'll be able to come over to your place

when I want a bit of peace and quiet?

Bye, Mr. Wainthropp.

Oh? Are you still here?

See you, Mrs. Wainthropp.