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Is this it? It's all there is this week, Mother.

What's her name this time? Whose name?

The slut with expensive tastes who's got my house-keeping money.

House-keeping?! When were this house kept by you? If you're going,

go while I can walk... Stop it! You're pathetic!

You stop it! Stop thinking I can manage on this!

Stop piddling about and find a man's job!

Now you always say that!

That is not true!

I'm always here looking after you!

"Who was she? What's her name?"

You said you'd finished.

I have never ever been with a woman.

I am 46!

Do you understand what I am saying?

You're the only other person that's ever touched this body.

I never had the courage to ask for a second opinion.

Don't tease me.

I really don't have any more money to give you.

Don't play games with me, not now.

It's not a game any more.

I've got to move and get things tidied up.

It looks all wrong.

She fell and hurt herself. Now, you saw what happened, didn't you, Maggie?

'This is the Ambulance Service. Do you wish to report an accident?

'Hello, this is the Ambulance Service. Do you wish to report an accident?'

I still can't get the words out.

It's best if I say I wasn't home when it happened.

Get someone else to find her and report her dead.

Put her in the dairy, will keep her cool, but she's not going to last for ever.

Well? Scooter's in the yard.

I heard. Is it our very own now? Hm.

I know that expression. He's paid too much for it.

You were supposed to beat her down. She beat me up. Oh!

She said with all the publicity, her scooter has given us a corporate identity.

What's that? Something between a cap badge and regimental goat.

The Mayor of Titterslow would like to see you in his parlour, pronto.

Oh, my word.

Nobody must know the real reason you've come here.

Free newspapers follow me the minute I leave this house.

With or without his chain. There's a fleet of cub reporters trailing us along the ring road.

What do you want us to do?

Our daughter, Susan, she's gone missing.

Is this your Susan?

Yes, I'll let you have a photo.

The problem is... she has learning difficulties.

"Romantic holiday of a lifetime?

"Or simply a weekend away in beautiful surroundings?

"Chigswick Manor Hotel.

"Homeliest Lancashire welcome going."

'Susan lives apart from us'

in a run-down sea-side hotel.

Sheltered accommodation. Social Services use it as part of their Care in the Community.

There's a Day Centre she attends sometimes.

We wanted Susan to be independent while we're alive

so we can catch her if she comes unstuck.

What do the people in the hotel think has happened? Nobody knew she was missing

until one of them wanted to borrow money.

Susan likes to play the princess to the paupers.

These abductions that you read about,

young women who are... well, like she is...

She's not exactly slow, or all that innocent,

but she is too trusting, and much too vulnerable.

Chigswick Manor Hotel?

Where's that? Chigswick.

Don't know it.

Why come to me and not the police?

Some mischief-maker took her to an all-night rave near Grange-over-Sands.

She was pictured topless in a tabloid

under the heading "Sexy Susan's Daddy is Mr Mayor".

Now you know why we need secrecy.

Come on, Maggie. Come on, lassie.

Oh no, oh no. No, Maggie!

Maggie!

Not now!

She's a spoilt little madam, and a bit of a loose cannon in some ways,

but as long as I'm firm about no men in her room the parents are very supportive.

What did she take? Clothes? Toiletries? I don't keep tabs on her wardrobe.

Nobody stays in during the day?

Oh, goodness, no!

Not even in bad weather? A place like this, we have to have a few rules, for everyone's sake.

It's easier in summer, of course.

Some of them go to cafes, the cinema, bus station. That's the advantage of the seaside.

There's almost always somewhere warmish to kill a few hours.

What's this? It's newspaper.

To line the drawer. There's a piece missing.

I don't think that affects its usefulness as a drawer-lining. Can Susan read?

Simple words. She's pretty independent.

Most of them have a social worker but Susan doesn't need one.

I'll take this. If it was important enough for her to cut out, I'll need to find out what it was.

And you've no idea where she might disappear to?

She'd never go on her own, without a man.

She's frightened of dogs and the dark. Right.

Where do you live, Geoffrey? With Mrs Wainthropp. She's my boss.

I expect they'll have warmed the double room you booked.

Thanks again. Bye.

She might have been swept off her feet, of course.

"Swept off her feet".

That's a clue, isn't it? ..Brush.

Broom?

Um... Carpet salesman?

No. Swept...

A road sweeper?

There's one.

Sir!

"Homely Lancashire welcome awaits.

"Wood fires, piping hot water in every bedroom."

Hello?

Hello?

Is anybody at home?

If they come back and catch us it was you who broke in.

Oh.

Oh, bloody hell!

I beg your pardon?

Gracious me!

That's better.

If you're expecting me to stay here in this rubbish dump for the night, we need a fire, Bernard.

Bernard!

Fire.

Yes, fire.

Get us warmed up, that would.

Good afternoon. Tea! Strong, sweet tea for the shock.

Just tell me where to go, the hospital or the mortuary. Sorry?

It was good they sent a woman. Men never understand how women feel about our sons. Is that one yours?

No, this is my associate. We're private detectives. May I?

They rang from the council, wanted to know why Corporation Street was unhygienic to the public.

And you didn't know he'd gone?

He must have smuggled that heavy suitcase out.

But why be so fearful because he took a suitcase with him?

My Bernard would never choose to stay out all night.

He may have difficulties learning, but he is aware of my weak heart.

Once my heart starts galloping it never knows when to stop.

We've no reason to believe that anything unpleasant has happened. We think he's with his girlfriend.

Susan Makepeace.

The Mayor's daughter.

Was there anything he took that might indicate where they went?

I think we'd better be going.

We've been engaged by Mayor Makepeace to find his daughter,

and we've used up most of today already.

I'll give you our card in case Bernard should phone.

I should like to ask you how severe his learning difficulties are.

It might have helped us.

Don't let him know he's taken five years off my life.

I think you can rely on us never to reveal that kind of detail.

Why should anyone with money want a man with learning disabilities?

Perhaps it's because she has similar difficulties - with learning.

You mean the woman he's gone off with is like him?

In that respect, yes.

You...

stupid, interfering woman!

My son mustn't ever sleep with someone who's mentally handicapped. What can you be thinking of?

What kind of child might they have? We should go... You've got it wrong.

You see,

I had a great aunt who spent most of her life in The Royal Albert Hospital, Lancaster.

She'd been put there at a time when to miss the last tram and spend a night away from home

was thought to be deeply immoral.

What being in that place all those years did to her

was far more than immoral.

You're not disabled,

neither was Bernard's father, but you produced Bernard who is disabled.

Contrariwise people with learning difficulties like Bernard's and Susan's

are no more likely to produce a child with the same disability as anybody else.

It was an advert for a small country hotel.

Chigswick Manor.

They'll be getting dolled up now for the cocktail hour. We'll get there tomorrow. Bright and early.

I'm creepy, Bernard.

That's someone's bed.

Where they gone to?

If they come back and catch us, you ate tinned peaches.

It's alive!

It's alive!

It's alive!

Nosy parkers find more than they're expecting.

You won't tell about the peaches, would you?

Oh, yes. Here she is, this is the one you want.

They can't have me...

not when I'm all yours!

Told you a fire would warm us good and proper.

So, public transport wouldn't bring them to your door,

but they could have finished their journey by other means.

You think they hitch-hiked?

Possibly. Well, they'd have come by the A65.

..and been dropped at...

..Settle... Long Preston...

or even at Gisburn, here.

We'll make our way back to Bridsea, where they set out from, asking at every road junction.

When you can find someone. This isn't the most populated area.

Where should we start? Normally, I'd say here.

But Hodder Bank road is closed

so they'd have to find another way.

Hang on a minute. Was it still blocked yesterday?

You'll need to know that if you want to retrace their route.

Gerald will know!

This is the man you talk to about roads around here. How do you do?

Was Hodder Bank road closed for work yesterday?

Aye... Why?

These people are private detectives, searching for a young couple.

Oh, I see. Good luck.

Thanks.

They were hitch-hiking. You didn't spot them, I suppose?

No.

Take some scraps for Maggie! Oh, she's not with me today.

The poor dog is piggy in the middle between him and his old mum.

Gerald hangs around here when he's left home or been thrown out.

Mum stays at home and sulks.

I'm still hungry.

List. We make a list.

Write down things. Help remember.

Count our money. How much for us to spend?

You can't make chips without potatoes, Bernard, and that's that.

Wallet!

Wallet! Wallet!

Wallet...! Wallet...

Have you seen this couple?

Nothing.

We know they made a booking.

We know they started out.

Know they reached the junction of the A682 and the A65 because that lorry driver saw them.

It's not nothing.

If they got as far as those roadworks, they'll have taken side roads with no traffic and got lost.

They've probably never hitched before and they have learning difficulties.

They may be anywhere or nowhere, and wherever they are, they're freezing.

We've no choice. We'll report what we've discovered so far

and I'll tell His Worship the Mayor to call in the police.

'This is the Mayor of Titterslow's residence.

'I'm afraid there's no-one available to take your call...'

Answering machines!

Nobody'll talk to anybody these days! ..I left a message.

We seem to have visitors.

Is Mrs Wainthropp at home?

Please, it's most urgent!

Whom shall I say is calling?

The Right Honourable Mayor and Mayoress of Titterslow, Councillor and Mrs Makepeace.

We were due close by so we thought if we changed taxis a few times we could risk dropping in.

It's a Charity Ball.

We have to support these things. Hang the expense!

Now, you said Susan is with a boyfriend?

They booked into a country hotel.

I told you that girl had too much money. But where is this place?

They didn't turn up and might be lost. They could be anywhere in the Ribble Valley.

We must use the media to ask the public for help - we could search for weeks.

Let us not lose our heads. Is she with someone responsible?

The young man appears to be quiet and hard-working.

He also has learning difficulties, like your daughter.

Oh, my goodness!

He has a job? He's a Hygiene Operative.

A lavatory attendant?

Bernard is a road sweeper

for your council's Cleansing Department... No media! No television appeal!

I engaged your services by paying a deposit. I demand secrecy.

Not one word about Susan and this road cleaner!

If this was to get out...! Charlie, wait!

What if they've had an accident and they're dying slowly in a ditch somewhere?

Oh, no! There's a couple of porkers hi-jacking our taxi.

That'll be the Jessups from No 46.

Stop. Stop! You won't get your licence renewed.

Look at the time - we're going to be late for the official opening by HRH

and we're due to be presented.

I am not waiting for public transport dressed like this.

Ernie at No 7 runs a minicab service.

Well, why can't he come here? Brenda, don't start, not now!

I'm going to have to set a time limit on your secrecy.

One more day. That's all you get.

After that, it's a matter for the police.

CRA-A-ASH!

Susan!

Help!

B-Bernard?

Susan!

I can't move.

I've got to put this on so they can find and report you dead.

Well, if I do it, they won't understand it were just a game.

Sorry, Mother.

Ow! My leg.

Here.

Careful.

Got to get you inside somehow.

It's brass monkey weather.

Quick as you can then, girl.

Get you warmed up again.

Close to the fire.

Aye, you did very well.

I didn't know you had such big muscles on you.

Bernard!

Don't point, it's rude.

What are you staring at?

Must have been there all the time.

"Romantic holiday? Try Chigswick Manor Hotel."

It's not my fault we didn't get there.

The driver said this were the hotel.

Leg hurts bad.

Talk about something else.

Promise you'll go find someone...

tomorrow morning.

You got to help me, Suzy.

Lino from the bedroom burns different colours, look!

Got any work on today?

No. I've got a little job for you.

Hire of your wagon for the full day. Chauffeuring those two private detectives.

Would you like a bite to eat?

No, thank you. I wouldn't say no to a bacon sarnie. You've had your breakfast. Oh!

I'll have one as well, then. It's going to be a long day.

Susan...?

Where are you?

Up here!

Getting wood.

Do you live somewhere close by?

When you're at home, I mean?

No, no. Over Blackleech Fell way.

Don't burn all this when I'm gone.

You go and get help?

Been thinking. It's best.

Don't be upset cos it's a long way.

I'll be all right.

Susan?

Susan?

Susan, what're you doing?

Stop!

Let's ask at that farm.

No-one lives there. It's deserted. An old woman owned it but she died.

Thought I saw smoke.

Be dark soon.

I'll have you back in t'hotel in fifteen minutes.

There's somebody over there.

Oh, that'll be Sharon from Barton Cross. She's out in all weathers.

Sorry we ate tinned peaches...

I'll get you some more when Susan gets back.

Hire of driver and lorry to assist in...

What shall I say? To assist in search for missing girl.

To assist in search... for missing... girl.

Forty pound.

G. Putman.

Thank you.

It's all right, I'll cash it.

Next time I'll charge you a fee

Gerald's written his address on here.

I told him to. Has to be official to get the money back from the Lord High Cockatoo.

This says he lives at Thurstons Farm, Meatly Bottom. He said he lived over at Blackleech Fell.

Thurstons Farm...

Remember that deserted farmhouse where it wasn't worth stopping?

And smoke from the chimney. Jessie! Hm-mm?

Does Gerald live with his mother off the Clitheroe Road? Yes.

"An old woman owned it, but she's dead".

And he wasn't interested in who the missing couple were.

What are you doing here? Your Robert.

He spent the morning brooding on the publicity you'd get for agreeing not to involve the police in this

and the afternoon shouting at Mayor Makepeace.

So you have my full co-operation.

Don't be frightened. I won't hurt you.

I fetched you an old coat, get you warmed up a bit.

No, no! Please, don't run away.

I'm not bad!

I'm not mad, either.

I'm just not that experienced with women, that's all.

If he so much as loosens a button I'll have his guts for garters.

I think it's possible he's telling the truth.

She fell during a quarrel and hit her head. Forensics might confirm it.

There's more to it than that.

Heavy psychological stuff?

Go on.

He tried getting someone else to find his mother and report her death, easing himself of some of the guilt.

But why these two?

They fell in his way.

When I was a girl,

my Uncle Frank kept chickens - real ones, not these conveyor-belt creatures.

Any that was weaker than the rest, they pecked it to death.

I hope you two know how lucky you are.

Well?

Bernard's got something to ask you.

We want to get married.

Agreed.

Bye! Bye!