All language subtitles for This.Happy.Breed.1944.DVDRip.XviD-VoMiT

After four long years of war...

the men are coming home.

Hundreds and hundreds of houses...

are becoming homes once more.

Welcome to number 17, Mrs. Gibbons,
and may all your days here be happy ones.

I'll be happy when I've had a cup of tea.

Well, you won't have to wait long.
Here's the removal men.

You go on in, Mother,
and I'll help them off with the stuff.

- Well, you couldn't have timed it better.
- You all right, governor?

This house smells a bit damp to me.
I hope it isn't.

I don't see why it should be.
It's not near any water.

Well, you never know.

Mrs. Willcox moved into
that house in Leatherhead...

and before she'd been in it for three months
she was in bed with rheumatic fever.

That's right, dear.
Look on the bright side.

- This right?
- Thank you. Put it here.

- Take that in there, young man.
- Yes, ma'am.

That gas cooker nearly
blew me out of the kitchen.

It'll only be air in the pipe.
Here. Put these in the living room.

- Uh, they may need shortening a bit.
- Oh, I do hope not.

Give us a hand with this crockery, Mother.
It should have been put in the kitchen.

I'm not supposed to move
anything at all, you know. Not anything.

Oh, come on, Mother,
it's not heavy.

Give us a hand. You'll feel better
when you've had a nice cup of tea.

If I ever do have a nice cup of tea.

The kettle's on the boil,
but Sylvia is not here yet.

Sylvia.

She had to go all the way to the U.K. Stores,
and that's quite a way.

She wouldn't have had to do that if she hadn't
forgotten half the things we told her to order.

- Her and her anemia.
- Well, she can't help her anemia, can she now?

I don't know how you and Frank
put up with her, and that's the fact.

You know as well as I do, Mother...

I couldn't let me own sister-in-law
live all by herself, now, could I?

Specially after all she's been through.

Sylvia hasn't been through
no more than anyone else has.

What she needs is a job of work.

She couldn't stand it. She's too delicate.
You know what the doctor said.

That doctor would say anything.

Look how he went on over
Queenie's whooping cough -

frightening us all to death.

Well, you've taken your time, I must say.
We thought something had happened to you.

I'd like to see you be any quicker
with a lot like this to carry.

Give us the milk.

Oh, me poor back.

- It was your feet this afternoon.
- Well, it's my back now, so there.

This house smells
a bit damp if you ask me.

All houses smell damp
when you first move in.

Oh, Perce, shut up!

Oh, dear.

I thought I was going to have
one of may attacks...

just as I turned into Abbeville Road.

I had to lean against a pillar box.

I suppose you didn't think
to remember my peppermints.

Yes, I did. In my bag.

- Here.
- Well, thank heaven for small mercies.

- Want one?
- No, thanks. I daren't.

I'm just going to take this cup of tea up to Frank.

Oh, you'll have to butter
Percy's paws, Sylvia.

- We'll have no rest till we let him out.
- No peace for the wicked.

Here's a cup of tea, dear.

Ta. I've just tacked them up
for the time being.

I'll put them up properly
when we've settled in.

Yeah, you look tired.
You've been doing too much.

- Oh, I'm all right.
- You've been at it all day, you know.

Well, what do you expect me to do,
sit down by the fire and read a nice book?

- All right, snappy.
- Oh, Frank, do you like it?

- Like what?
- Well, the house, silly.

- You haven't said a word.
- Well, of course I like it.

I can't hardly believe it, you know.
It's all been so quick.

You coming home and being demobbed.

- Oh, dear.
- What's up?

I can't get used to not having
that awful weight on me mind all the time.

- How do you mean?
- Oh, you know.

What, me perishing on a field of slaughter?
Ho! What a chance.

There was a chance every minute of every day
for four years, and don't you forget it.

I used to feel sick every time
the postman came, every time the bell rang.

Well, there's no sense in going on about it.
That's all over and done with.

We're lucky. It isn't over and done with
for some people.

Look at Mrs. Worsley -
husband and two sons gone.

And Mrs. Cross - that boy of hers
she was so proud of, done in for life.

We ought to be grateful.

- Who to?
- Now then, Frank.

Gives me a headache talking like that.
Doesn't make sense.

Well, what does make sense
I'd like to know?

Lots of things.
There's me and the children, isn't there?

And there's your job and this house
and the life we're going to live in it.

It's cruel to make me even think of it.

What's the use of upsetting yourself?
There isn't going to be another war anyway.

There'll always be wars as long as men
are such fools as to want to go to them.

No sense in buttering that cat's paws.
He knows when he's well off.

A bit of luck about
that cherry tree, isn't it?

- Oh, I never noticed it.
- Nah, you wouldn't.

Fat lot of time I've had to stand about
looking at cherry trees.

That's a bit of luck. They fit perfect.

Here. There's Percy.
Who let him out?

Mother must have.
He's up to no good, I shouldn't wonder.

Eh. We ought to have had him arranged
when he was little.

Don't be so vulgar.

Poor old girl. You must be glad
to have a home of your own again.

Living four years with your mother
can't have been all jam I will say.

I think I was better off
in the trenches.

You ought to be ashamed
saying such things.

Your mother's all right in her way,
but that house of hers in Battersea.

Oh, dear. It gave me the willies
after five weeks, let alone four years.

At least we got a bath here
that doesn't scratch the hide off you.

- Lend me your hanky?
- Here you are.

I must go and help Mother and Syl
get the supper.

- Here, let's have a look at you.
- What for?

Just to see what's happened to your face.

You know, I don't seem to have had time
for a really good look at it since I got back.

- Oh, stop it. Leave go -
- Here, hold still a minute.

- Now see here, Frank Gibbons.
- It's not such a bad face as faces go, I will say.

- Oh, thanks very much I'm sure.
- It's not quite as young as it was when I married it.

- Leave hold of me.
- But taken by and large, I wouldn't change it.

I might wipe some of the dirt off
the side of it, but I wouldn't change it.

- Dirt? Where?
- Here, hold still.

There. That's better.

- Now, then -
- Now then what?

- Give us a kiss.
- I'll do no such thing.

- And why not, may I ask?
- We haven't got no time for fooling about,

Oh, turning nasty, are we?
We'll soon see about that.

- Frank Gibbons!
- Shut up.

Oh, dear.

I hope I don't intrude.
I live at number 15 next door.

My missus and I thought if you
needed anything in the way of groceries -

Well, I'll be blowed.

- Mitchell. Bob Mitchell.
- That's right.

Well, don't you remember me?

Frank Gibbons - the Buffs?
"B" Company, Festubert, 1915.

- Strike me pink, it's old Gibbo.
- You old son of a gun!

Blimey. I thought you was as dead
as mutton after that night attack...

when we'd gone on to Givenchy
and left you lot in the mud.

What, me dead as mutton?
I'm tougher than that.

Only one small hole
through me leg in four years.

- Here, take a chair.
- Thanks.

- How did you make out?
- Well, not so bad.

Got gassed in '17. I'm all right now though.
Left me chest a bit weak, that's all.

Well, I'll say it's a small world
and no mistake.

Don't you think you'd better introduce me, Frank?

Of course. This is the wife, Bob.

- Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gibbons.
- Oh, it's a pleasure, I'm sure.

Well, what a coincidence. I can't get over it.

- How long have you been here?
- Over a year now.

We took the house
when I got me discharge in March, '18.

Nora - that's my missus -
She would have come herself tonight...

only she's feeling a bit
under the weather.

You see we're expecting a little stranger
any day now and -

Oh! It's not her first, is it?

No, no, no. We've got a boy, 14.
Wants to be a sailor.

Here, we've got to
celebrate this somehow.

I'll tell you what. I've got a bottle of
Johnnie Walker next door. Won't take a minute.

You two sit here.
I'll go and get Sylvia's Wincarnis.

Oh, dear.

It won't take a minute
to get the Johnnie Walker.

Here, whose dugout
do you think this is?

- You sit down.
- All right.

I'll, uh - I'll pop in
and have one with you later.

- You got a job yet?
- Yes, I had a bit of luck.

A chap called Tickler in my regiment
was running a sort of travel agency...

in Oxford Street before the war.

Well, he was the first one I run into
when I got back last April.

He'd started his business again. Things was
beginning to pick up, and he gave me a job.

A travel agency, eh? Whew.

Tours of the battlefields,
I'll thank you.

That's a good one.

Some people certainly do have queer ways
of enjoying themselves, don't they?

You've got kids, haven't you?
I remember you talking about 'em.

Yeah, three. Two girls and a boy.

They're with Ethel's aunt in Broadstairs.

We didn't want them under our feet
while we was moving in.

- How old are they?
- Reg, the boy, he's 12.

Queenie's 13,
and Vi, she's 14.

Here you are.

Supper will be ready in a minute.
Are you sure you won't stay...

and take potluck with us,
Mr. Mitchell?

Thanks very much, Mrs. Gibbons,
but I really must get back.

Will you ask your wife when it would be
convenient for me to pop in and see her?

- Anytime. Anytime at all.
- Well, I'll be sayin' good night, Mr. Mitchell.

- Aren't you going to have a drop, dear?
- No, dear. It would spoil me supper.

- Now, don't be long.
- Don't forget.

- If there's anything you're wanting -
- Thanks very much, I'm sure.

- Good night.
- Good night.

- Here you are, old man.
- Thanks.

It tastes a bit funny,
but it's better than nothing.

Happy days!

Took me four years to learn
the words to this song.

- Well, sing it then.
- Eh?

Sing it.

There's our lot. Oh, doesn't it
make you wish you hadn't been demobbed?

Eyes right!

Hope the sun stays out. Miss Whitney's
been to Wembley four times...

and it poured with rain every time.

- Have you got your mac, Queenie?
- It's not a mac, it's a Burberry.

Ginger beer. A little nip of extra
for Frank and me. I've got me pouch.

Take it easy, Dad. We're going to Wembley,
not the Battle of Jutland.

- Morning, Billy. Morning, Reg.
- Hello.

Good morning, all.
Well, what are the plans?

- I thought we might start off
at the Palace of Engineering.

We haven't got any plans.
We're just going to have a jolly good time.

Well, are we going, or are we gonna
stand here all day talking about it?

- Don't be saucy, Queenie.
- Say good-bye to your mum.

- Charm.
- Good-bye, Nora.

Good-bye, Nora.
Sorry you can't come.

Well, I've got eight and six
and I'm going to spend every penny.

Oh, I can't look.
It frightens me to death.

Don't be silly.
They're enjoying themselves fit to bust.

Reg'll be sick.
You know what he is.

Do him good after that lunch he put away.

Thank goodness we ditched them.
I hate going round in a mob.

Yeah, nice to be alone for a bit, isn't it?

Isn't the water lovely and clear?
Look. You can see the bottom.

- It's a lovely blue, isn't it?
- Lovely.

- Are you a good sailor?
- I don't know.

- Well, you'll soon find out.
- Oh, you are awful.

Oh, do shut up, Frank.

Where can they be?
They promised to meet us here at 6:00.

I don't know or care.

I brought them here
to see the glories of the Empire...

and all they think about
is going on the dodgems.

Mrs. Whitney's bronchitis is worse, Ethel.
They had to have a kettle.

- Shh!
- Oh, Frank give it a rest, do.

You've been at it all day.
I'd never have given you the beastly thing...

if I'd thought it was going to
spoil Christmas for the rest of us.

- Oh, Dad, can I have the port?
- No use talking to your father, Reg.

He might just as well not be here.
Go on, take it.

Okay. Thanks, Mum.

Having all these things is selfish.
I'm going to get mad -

One, two, three!

Well, got it away from them
without a struggle.

Well, struggle over here
and pour it out.

Come on now.
Who's for the cup that cheers?

- I'll have a drop.
- Here you are, Sam.

Don't these nuts get in your throat?
Here, have a mince pie, Phyll.

- I made it myself.
- Thanks.

It has been nice you letting me come
and spend my Christmas Day with you.

I don't know what I would have done
all by myself in that house in Wandsworth...

- what with Auntie ill and everything.
- Is she any better?

No, she just goes on about the same.

Mrs. Watts is looking after her till 7:00,
so I don't have to get back till about then.

I will now call upon...

my old and valued friend, Sam Leadbitter,
to say a few words.

Old and valued friend - You've only
known him since August bank holiday.

- Chuck us the nutcrackers, Phyll.
- Speech. Speech. Speech.

Yes, come on, Sam.

Ladies and gentlemen - comrades.

- Well, make up your mind.
- Comrades.

In thanking you for
your kind hospitality on this festive day...

I would like to say that it is both
a pleasure and a privilege to be here.

Hear, hear!

Though, as you know,
holding the views I do...

it is really against my principles to hobnob
to any great extent with the bourgeoisie.

- What's that?
- I think it means "common" in a nice way.

- Oh.
- Order.

I cannot help but feel that today, what with
being Christmas and one thing and another...

it would be but right and proper
to put aside all prejudice and class hatred -

Very nice of you, I'm sure.

But, as you well know, there are millions
and millions of homes in this country today...

where Christmas is nought
but a mockery...

where there is neither warmth
nor food...

nor even the bare necessities of life...

where little children, old before their time,
huddle round a fireless grate.

Well, they'd be just as well off if they stayed
in the middle of the room then, wouldn't they?

Oh, shut up, Queenie. Sam's quite right.

That sort of remark, Queenie,
springs from complacency...

arrogance and a full stomach.

You leave my stomach out of it.

It is people like you - apathetic, unthinking,
docile supporters of a capitalistic system...

which is a disgrace to civilization -

who are responsible for at least three quarters
of the cruel sufferings of the world.

As long as you can earn
your miserable little salaries...

and go to the pictures and enjoy yourselves,
the rest of suffering humanity can go hang, can't it?

You're too busy getting all weepy
over Rudolph Valentino...

to spare any tears for the workers
of the world.

Don't get excited, Sam.
Queenie didn't mean it.

I am not excited, and Queenie
doesn't mean anything to me anyway.

Oh, pardon me all while I go
and commit suicide.

But what she represents,
what she symbolizes, means a great deal.

She is only one of the millions
who, when the great day comes...

will be swept out of existence
like - like so much chaff on the wind.

Well, it's nice to know, isn't it?

I've said my say.
Thank you very much.

Hear, hear! Bravo.

I don't know what
you're saying "bravo" about, I'm sure.

Oh, come on, Sam. Come up
to my room a minute and have a cigarette.

- Don't let your father catch you.
- Why, I'm sorry if I was rude.

It doesn't matter, Sam.
But you can't expect everybody in the world...

to feel just the same as you do, you know?

Oh, come on, Sam.

- All right to clear away?
- Yes, but you needn't stay and wash up, Edie.

- We can do it later.
- Thanks ever so.

You were awful, Queenie.

If you hadn't have gone on at Sam the way
you did he wouldn't have got so excited.

Oh, silly great fool.

- How's your father's neck, Edie?
- Father was up all night poulticing it.

It was still paining him terrible
when I left this morning.

They say if you have one
you generally have seven.

Well, this is his third,
so we only got four more to go.

There are some crackers left in the box
on the sideboard, Edie.

You might care to take them home
to your little brother.

- Get them for her, Queen.
- Thanks ever so.

Here you are, Edie.
You can pile them on the top.

Now, that's right.

Now, you two draw up the sofa
to the fire.

Right. Phyll, give us a hand with this.

Righto.

- Front door. Answer it, somebody.
- Answer it yourself.

- Hello, Billy.
- Hello, Mr. Gibbons.

I thought it was your father.
Have you come to see Queenie?

Uh - Well, I thought as matter of fact
that Reg wanted -

- You'll find her in the living room.
- Well, thanks.

- There.
- Hello, Queen.

- Hello.
- Billy. What a surprise.

- Thought you was going back this morning.
- No, not till tonight.

- Do you know Miss Blake? Mr. Mitchell.
- Pleased to meet you.

- Have a choc?
- No, thanks. I've been eating me head off.

- Where's Reg?
- Upstairs with Sam.

Oh, he's here, is he?

We ought to be going back
into the other room.

Mum will be wondering
what's happened to us.

Be a sport and go on in then, Vi, will ya?
I want to talk to Queenie a minute.

- Oh, so that's how it is, is it?
- I don't know what you're talking about, I'm sure.

Come on, Phyll.
We know when we're not wanted.

Well, I don't see why
we don't all go.

Well, I want to talk to you a minute.
I just said so, didn't I?

- Oh, well, maybe I don't want to talk to you.
- Come on, Phyll. See you later, Billy.

Don't go without saying good-bye
to Mum and Dad.

You bet I won't.

Oh, now, fancy asking Vi and Phyll
to go out and leave us alone.

You ought to have known
better than that.

- I shall never hear the last of it.
- Oh, so that's what's worrying you, is it?

Oh, it's not worrying me at all.
I just thought it sounded sort of silly, that's all.

Well, I don't know what's silly about it.

Vi knows we went to the Majestic
on Friday night...

and she saw us with her own eyes
walking down Elm Park Road on Sunday.

She must guess there's something doing.

Well, if she does, she's wrong, so there.
There isn't.

Here half a minute.
What's got into you?

I haven't done anything wrong, have I?

Well, I don't like being taken for granted.
No girl does.

How do you mean,
taken for granted?

You can't hold hands with someone
all through Desert Love...

and the next minute expect them
to treat you like the Empress of Russia.

Don't talk so silly.

Well, it's you that's silly.

- I'm going into the drawing room.
- Here, wait a minute.

Aren't you going to kiss me good-bye?
We shan't be able to in there.

I should think not indeed.

Look here, Queenie.

If you think I oughtn't have said that about
wanting to talk to you alone in front of Vi...

I'm sorry, see.

I can't say fairer than that, now, can I?

No, I suppose not.

Well, then.

Oh, all right.

I do love you, Queenie.
You know that, don't you?

Yes.

And I wouldn't do anything to upset you.
That is, not meaning to.

- You know that too, don't you?
- Oh, Billy.

I wish you weren't going away so soon.

Will you write to me
every now and again?

Even if it's only a postcard?

- Yes. If you'll write to me.
- Oh, well, that's easy.

- Promise?
- Cross my heart.

You're the sweetest girl
I ever met in all my life...

or ever will meet either.

Oh, that's easy to say,
but how do you know?

What? Well, never you mind,
it's true anyway.

I say, Queen.

A little later on,
when I'm earning a bit more...

do you think we might have a shot
at getting married?

Oh, Bill, how do I know?

Oh, you might be in China or anywhere.
You might have forgotten all about me by then.

More likely to be the other way around.

A pretty girl like you
working at being a manicurist...

talking to all sorts of different fellows
all day long.

It isn't all jam being a sailor's wife, is it?

Well, it won't be so bad, you know,
if I get my promotion all right and get on.

Well, don't say anything about it now, hey?

Just think it over.

Oh, no, Billy. I wouldn't be the right
sort of wife for you. Really I wouldn't.

I want too much.

I'm always thinking about
the kind of things I want, and...

they wouldn't be the kind of things
you'd want me to want.

Well, how do you mean?

Oh, I know it sounds silly,
but I'm not like Vi. She's a quiet one.

I'm different.

Mum sometimes says that all I think about
is having a good time, but -

Well, it isn't only that.

I don't see any harm
in wanting to have a good time.

That's what everybody wants
one way or another.

I'll tell you something awful.

I hate living here.

I hate living in a house that's exactly
like hundreds of other houses.

I hate coming home from work on tube.

I hate washing up
and helping Mum darn Dad's socks...

and listening to Aunt Syl keeping on
about how ill she is all the time.

And what's more,
I know why I hate it.

It's because it's all so common.

There.

I suppose you'll think I'm getting
above myself, and I can't blame you.

Maybe I am.

But I can't help it.

And that's why I don't think
I'd be a good wife for you...

however much I loved you.

And I do.

I really do.

Oh, Billy.

Here. Hold on, dear.

There isn't anything to cry about.

I know you mean all right.

It's only - It's only natural
you should feel that way about things.

And you don't think I'm awful then,
do you? And mean?

Nah, of course I don't.

Come on now. Cheer up.

Hey, you don't want to have red eyes
on Christmas Day, now, do you?

Oh, Bill, I'm sorry.

Please forgive me.

Was that Queenie?

Oh, hello, Mr. Gibbons.
Y-Yes, I think it was.

Oh, I see.

Must be a bit miserable going back
to work on Christmas night, isn't it?

Oh, I don't know.
It's all right once you're there, you know.

Aren't you coming in to the drawing room?

No, thanks, Mr. Gibbons.
No, I'd rather not if you don't mind.

All right, son.
I'll walk down to the gate with you.

I could do with a breath of fresh air myself.

- How old are you, Billy?
- Getting on for 22.

- Oh, I wish I was.
- Good night, Mr. Gibbons.

- Night, Mr. Mitchell.
- Good night, dear.

Good night.

- Mr. Gibbons?
- Yes, son?

If in two or three years' time,
when I've worked my way up a bit...

Queenie and me got married,
would you mind?

Well, if Queenie wanted to,
it wouldn't matter whether I minded or not.

She'd get her own way, you know.
She always does.

Next commission, I may be drafted overseas.

By the time I get back,
I ought to be earning better pay.

That is, if I've been behaving myself.

What does Queenie think about it?

Well, that's the trouble.

I think she thinks that being
a sailor's wife might be a bit hard going.

Yeah, she likes having a good time,
our Queenie.

But maybe she'll calm down a bit later on.
Here's hoping anyhow.

If you get the chance, Mr. Gibbons,
you might sort of...

put in a word for me now and again.

All right there, son.
I'll do my best.

Now go on. Hop it.

- Thanks. Good night, Mr. Gibbons.
- Good night.

Oh, and, uh, good luck, son.

Mr. Leadbitter,
you're just in time to turn over for me.

When I was a girl,
I played without music at all.

Edie was awfully pleased
with the crackers, Mum.

Oh, Frank, you are awful
not coming back like that.

- You knew Sylvia was going to sing.
- What about you?

- Came to find you.
- We know all about that.

- Want the light on?
- No, it's all right as it is.

Here. Come and sit down.

It's a nice cigar Reg gave me.

Is he in there?

Yes, he came in just now
with that Sam Leadbitter.

What's the betting they haven't been
smoking themselves silly up in Reg's room?

Well, it is Christmas.

I don't think much of that Sam Leadbitter.

Taken all round,
he seems a bit soft to me.

I wouldn't call him soft exactly.
But he'll grow out of it.

But it's wrong, isn't it?
All this "down with everything" business?

Well, there's something to be said for it.

There's always something
to be said for everything.

But where they go wrong is trying
to get things done too quickly.

We don't like doing things quickly
in this country.

It's like gardening.

Somebody once said
we was a nation of gardeners.

Yeah, they weren't far wrong.

We like planting things
and watching them grow...

and looking out for changes
in the weather.

You and your gardening.

What works in other countries
won't work in this one.

We've got our own way
of settling things.

It may be a bit slow
and it may be a bit dull...

but it suits us all right
and always will.

Oh, do listen to Sylvia.

She's off on "Bird of Love Divine" now.

- You know that always makes Reg laugh.
- Huh.

Poor old Syl.

We ought to be getting back really.
It'll be teatime in a minute.

It's cozy in here.

- Got quite dark, hasn't it?
- Hmm.

Don't crowd. Don't crowd.
Let the passengers off first, please.

Let them off first.
Here we are. Come on, laddie.

That's right.
Now, don't crush -

All right.
Room for two only.

Feels sort off flat now, doesn't it?
All being over, I mean.

It's wicked. That's what I call it.

Downright wicked,
upsetting the whole country like that.

I'm going upstairs to wash a pair
of stockings out for the morning.

I wish Reg would come home.
I wish I knew where he was.

I'll give that Sam Leadbitter
a piece of my mind when I see him.

Mr. Rogers says that conditions
up north are something terrible.

He says the government may have won
this time, but next time it won't be so easy.

You and your Mr. Rogers.

Mr. Rogers is a very clever man.

He's been very kind to me, and I like him.
So there.

Like him?

I should just think you did. We get nothing but
"Mr. Rogers this" and "Mr. Rogers that"...

from morning till night.

I should like to know what
Mrs. Rogers has to say about it, I must say.

Oh, look here, Mrs. Flint.
If you're insinuating -

You give me a pain, Sylvia, really you do,
the way you keep on about that man.

Just because he pays you a few shillings
now and again...

for designing them Christmas cards
and calendars.

You're doing nothing more or less
than throwing yourself at his head.

- Mrs. Flint, how can you?
- Oh, do be quiet, you two.

I've got quite enough to think about
without listening to you two

Sylvia can go and live
with Mr. Rogers for all I care.

That's a nice way to talk, Ethel,
I must say.

Now look here, Sylvia.
I'm tired, see? We're all tired.

And what's more,
I'm worried to death about Reg.

I haven't slept properly
since he had that row with his dad...

and slammed out of the house.

If on top of all that I have
to listen to you and Mother...

go on nag, nag, nag at each other
about nothing at all...

I shall lose my temper, and that's a fact.

I'm sure I haven't said anything.

Oh, yes, you have. You're always
giving Sylvia sly digs about Mr. Rogers.

And if he's taken a fancy to her,
so much the better.

She's old enough to look after herself,
heaven knows.

And if he murdered his wife
and strangled his children...

and ran off to Australia with her it still wouldn't
be anything to do with you, so shut up.

Help me up!
Help me up!

I'm not going to stay here
to be insulted by me own daughter.

No one's insulting you.
Sit down.

It's all my fault.
I'm in the way in this house.

I always have been.
You needn't think I don't know it.

- It's a pity you've stayed so long then.
- Oh, Ethel, how can you?

I'll leave tomorrow.
I'll never set foot in this house again.

And a good job too.

Vi, take your grandmother up to bed,
for heaven's sake.

- Come on, Gran, I'll help you upstairs.
- Stop crying, Sylvia!

I didn't mean what I said.

I'm an old woman,
and the sooner I'm dead the better.

I know you're all itching
to see me in me coffin.

What in the world's happening?
I thought the strikers had got in.

It's only your grandmother
and Aunt Sylvia as usual.

That's right, blame me.
Everything's always my fault.

Now, now, Granny.
Don't upset yourself. It's not worth it.

Have another cup of tea, Mum.
It'll buck you up.

Oh, all right, dear.

Better give your Aunt Sylvia a cup.

I don't want anyone to put themselves out
on my account, I'm sure.

Nobody is, Aunt Syl.
Here you are. The sugar's just by you.

- Here you are, Mum.
- You better pop up to bed. It's after 11:00.

No, I'd rather not. I'll wait till Dad comes.
He won't be long now.

Would you like me to stay up, Ethel,
and you go to bed?

Oh, no, thanks, dear.
I couldn't sleep anyway.

Very well.
I'll take my tea up with me.

That's right, dear. Nothing like
a nice cup of tea in bed.

Good night, Ethel.
Good night, Queenie.

- Good night.
- Good night, Syl. Sleep well.

I'm afraid there's not much chance of that.

Come on, Mum.

I know what you want.

- Oh, thank you, dear.
- There.

Poor old Sylvia.
She's a bit of a trial sometimes, I must say.

Well, I don't know how you stand her, Mum.

If it hadn't been for poor Bertie getting killed
in the war, she'd have been all right, I expect.

What was he like?

A bit soppy, I always thought.
Still, she seemed to like him.

How awful to be so dependent on a man
living or dying it could ruin your whole life.

I don't think I ever would be.

Well, shouldn't be too sure.

If your dad had gone, I wouldn't be
the woman I am today. Far from it.

Yes, but you wouldn't have gone on
moping about it always though, would you?

I don't rightly know.

My heart would have broke. I suppose I should
have put it together again as best I could.

Oh, Mum.

What is it?

You do make me feel awful sometimes.

Good heavens, child. Why?

Well, you just do.

Have you heard from Billy lately?

- Yes, I had a postcard with a camel on it.
- A camel?

Yes, his ship stopped somewhere
where there was camels...

so he sent me a picture of one.

His poor mother
misses him something dreadful.

- We all do, really, don't we?
- Yes, I suppose we do.

There's the bell.

- All right, Mum, I'll answer it.
- Who is it?

It's me, Mrs. Gibbons. I just
popped over to see if Reg has come back yet.

- Well, he hasn't.
- Come in, dear, and have a cup of tea.

Thanks very much. Have you heard
from Reg, Mrs. Gibbons?

No, I'm afraid I haven't, dear.

Mum's afraid he might have got himself
into some sort of trouble.

Oh, he'll be all right, Mrs. Gibbons.
Don't you worry.

Well, I can't help it, I'm afraid.

You read about houses
being burned down and riots...

and people being arrested
and all sorts of horrors.

Get your dad's supper, Queenie.

Hold your noise, Frank.
You'll wake up the whole street.

Who cares? We've come unscathed,
my friend and I, through untold perils.

And you grumble about a bit of noise.

You've come unscathed through
a few public houses too, or I'm no judge.

Well, there's no denying, Mrs. G., we had
a couple at the Plough with Captain Birch...

- and one more next door with me.
- That makes three, all told.

You'll stay and have a bite
with us, won't you, Bob?

No, thank you, all the same,
Nora's got something for me next door.

- Here, have a drink.
- You've had quite enough to drink, Frank...

- and well you know it.
- Better not, old man.

Ethel's quite right. Women are always right.
That's why we cherish them. God bless 'em.

You'd better cherish yourself
next door, Bob.

Nora will be having one of her upsets
if she's got something hot for you to eat...

- and you're not there to eat it.
- That's right. Drive me best pal out of the house.

Well, good night, cock,
and I'll see you tomorrow.

- Good night, old man. Good night, Ethel.
- Good night, Bob.

Toodle-oo, everybody.
Pleasant dreams.

Mr. Gibbons and Mr. Mitchell
were in the war together, weren't they?

Yes, and to hear them talk,
you'd think they were the only ones that were.

Mum.

Thanks, dear.

- Reg!
- Hey, Mum.

- Whatever's happened?
- He's all right, Mrs. Gibbons.

Oh, Reg, whatever have you done
to yourself?

Don't fuss, Mum. I'm all right.

You're as white as a sheet.
You'd better go straight up to bed.

There was a bit of trouble
in the Whitechapel Road...

and he got hit by a stone -
that was yesterday.

What was he doing in the Whitechapel Road
yesterday or any other time?

Oh, hello, Phyll. What are you doing here?

I just came over on me bike
to find out where you were.

- Oh, I see. Thanks.
- What's going on here?

- It's Reg. He's been hurt.
- It's nothing serious.

I took him to the hospital last night
and the doctor said it was only a graze.

This is all your fault.
You know that, Sam, don't you?

Shut up a minute, Vi.
You feel all right, Son?

- I feel fine. You needn't worry about me.
- Well, that's good news anyway.

Don't go for him tonight, Frank.
He looks wore out.

I'm not going for anybody.
I got to finish my supper.

Well, I think I'd better be
getting back now.

All right, dear.
But be careful how you go.

There's sure to be a lot of people
about tonight.

Good night, Vi. Good night, Queenie.

- Good night, all.
- Good night, dear.

I hope your head will be better
in the morning.

Yes. Thanks for coming round.
See you tomorrow.

Oh, all right.

- Good night, Reg.
- Good night, Sam. Thanks.

I think I'll be getting along too.

Not till you've heard
what I've got to say, you're not.

Now listen, Sam Leadbitter.
Reg thinks you're wonderful.

He's younger than you and easily led.

You've been filling him up with your
rotten ideas till he can't see straight.

There may be a lot of things wrong,
but it's not a noisy great gasbag like you

And the next time you come here
on a Sunday evening...

and start pawing me about and saying
love's the most glorious thing in the world

you're going to get such a smack in the face
you'll wish you'd never been born.

Well, if that's the way you feel,
there isn't any more to be said.

You're dead right. There isn't.
Go on. Get out!

I don't ever want to see you again
as long as I live.

Here you are, Queen.

- I enjoyed that, dear.
- I should think you did.

Queenie?

Yes, Dad?

Get Percy in and lock up the back.
I've done the front door.

- All right, Dad.
- Good night, dear.

Perce?

Perce, Perce, Perce.

Oh, well, stop out then.

Promise me you won't be too hard on him
tonight, Frank. He looks really done in.

You leave this to me, Ethel.

- Hello, Son.
- Hello, Dad.

- Have a cigarette?
- Oh, yes.

Thanks.

Thanks, Dad.

Well, let's have it and get it over with.

Well, that's easier said than done.

You and me don't, uh,
quite see things the same way, do we?

- No, I suppose not.
- It's a pity too.

I don't see what there is
to be done about it.

- You got any ideas?
- Well, I'm not a kid anymore, you know, Dad.

- I'm grown up now.
- I realize that, all right.

I know you think everything
I believe in is wrong.

That's just where you make a mistake, Son.

I don't think any such thing.

You've got a right to your opinions
same as I've got a right to mine.

Anyone with any sense
knows all about the injustice...

of some people having a lot
and other people having nothing at all.

But where you make a mistake is...

blaming it all on systems and governments.

You've got to go deeper than that to find out
the cause of most of the troubles of this world.

And when you've had a good look,
you'll see, likely as not...

that good old human nature's
at the bottom of the whole thing.

Yes. Well, if everyone had the same chance
as everybody else...

human nature would be better,
wouldn't it?

Well, it doesn't seem as though we're going
to get a chance find that out, does it?

Looks like a bit of a deadlock to me.

Oh, it's no good talking, Dad.
You don't understand. You never will.

Well, you're right there.
Arguing never got anyone anywhere.

But I will give you one bit of advice,
and then we'll call it a day.

- How does that suit?
- What is it?

Well, it's this, Son.

I belong to a generation of men,
most of whom aren't here anymore...

and we all did the same thing for the same
reason, no matter what we thought about politics.

That's all over and done with,
and we're carrying on the best we can...

just as though nothing had happened.

But as a matter of fact,
several things happened...

and one of them was
that this country suddenly got tired.

She's tired now, but the Old Lady's got stamina,
don't you make any mistake about that.

And it's up to us ordinary people
to keep things steady.

That's your job,
and just you remember it.

And the next time you slam out of the house
without a word...

and never let your mother know
where you are and worry her to death...

I'll lather the living daylight
out of you.

All right, Dad.

Now you hop into bed and get some sleep.

All right, Dad.

Good night, Son.

Good night.

Thanks, Dad.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Oh -
We're going to have our picture taken.

- Oh, no!
- Come on. Yes, now, come on. Smile.

Come one, Vi, give us a nice smile.

Come on, Sam.
We haven't got much time. Come on.

Nah, love, it's no use crying.
You'll make your nose red.

Besides, it looks as though we've got to
get used to having weddings in our family.

Ladies and gentlemen...

the management have pleasure
in presenting the winners...

of our Palais Charleston Competition,
who will give you an exhibition...

Mr. Cyril Alliado
and Miss Queenie Gibbons.

Ninepence on the right.
One and three on the left.

That's all at nine.

That's all at ninepence.

A few seats still left at one and three.

Ah, never mind.
Let's try the picturedrome.

- Don't be silly. I can afford it.
- Capitalist.

Seats to one of 10 and two of four.

You in at ninepence and one and three.

You know, I don't understand
a word they say.

No, but it's marvelous, isn't it?

Well, they're cutting down the navy
and they're cutting down the army.

The only thing they don't seem
to be cutting down is the unemployed.

- Isn't it awful about poor Mrs. Flint's dress?
- What's the matter with it?

Percy's been curled up on it all night.
Covered it with hairs, he has.

The whole house has been
in an uproar ever since 8:00.

Well, we don't have weddings
every day of the week, do we?

- No, but we're not doing too badly.
- Here, I must go and dress.

- Do you mind if I change the cloth?
- No, I'll give you a hand, Edie.

Thanks ever so.

I went with Mrs. Gibbons to the Plough
last night to see the upstairs room.

They've done it up lovely.

We took a look at the cake too.
It's ever so pretty.

Mrs. Gibbons says I can have a bit
to take home to Ernie.

Catch!

Ernie must be getting
quite a big boy now.

He's turned 16, but you'd never think it.
He's short like Dad, you know.

Oh, I see.

He started trying to shave hisself
with Dad's razor.

You'd have died of laughing
if you'd seen him.

- Did he cut himself?
- Not badly. Just took the top off one or two spots.

- Morning, Frank.
- Hello, Bob.

- Well, you got a nice day for it.
- You've said it.

It rained cats and dogs
when I got married.

How's Nora?

Oh, a bit more cheerful this morning.

Doctor said she won't get no better
nor no worse neither.

Just stay about the same.
Where's the happy bridegroom?

The happy bridegroom's
been locked in the bathroom for the last hour.

Anyone would think he hadn't
had a wash for a month.

Oh. Well, natural anxiety, old man.

I say it's a bit posh going to the South of France
for honeymoon, n'est-ce pas?

Uh, oui, oui.

Oh, Dad, come up here a minute, will you?
I want some help with my tie.

- Righto, Son. I'll see you later, Bob.
- All right.

How you feeling, Reg? Nervous?

My legs feel a bit funny.
Is Billy nearly ready?

Yes. And he's got the ring too. I saw him
put it in his pocket myself this morning.

- He'll be here in a minute.
- Tell him to get a move on.

Bye-bye, Uncle Bob.
See you in church.

Cheerio, Reg.

- Sorry, Dad.
- That's all right, Son.

Which tie do you think, Dad,
the bow or the long one?

Let's have a look.

Try the bow.
It, uh - It's more dressy.

I'm no good at tying these things, Dad.

All right. I'll give you a hand.

- Well, Son -
- Well, Dad -

I, uh -

I suppose I ought to be giving you
a few bits of fatherly advice by rights.

What about, Dad?

Well, uh, there's the facts of life,
for instance.

I could probably tell you
a few things about them.

Yeah, I'll bet you could at that.

- Uh, Reg.
- Yes, sir?

And I'll trouble you to wipe
that innocent look off your face...

before I say what I've got to say.

So, what have you got to say, Dad?

That's right.
Make the whole thing easy for me.

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

- Well, I'm not talking about anything yet.
- All right. Fire away.

Well, uh, would you say,
taken by and large...

that you've been a good boy
on the whole since you've grown up?

Depends on what you mean by good.

You know quite well what I mean,
so don't talk so soft.

- Women?
- Yes.

Oh, I've had my little bits of fun
every now and again.

You haven't ever got yourself into any sort
of trouble, have you, and not told me about it?

- Oh, no, Dad.
- Marriage is a bit different, you know...

- from just having a bit of fun.
- Yes, I expect it is.

Women aren't all the same, you know,
not by any manner of means.

Some of them don't care what happens
so long as they have a good time.

Marriage isn't important to them...

beyond having the ring and being
Mrs. Whatever-it-is.

But your mother wasn't that sort,
and I don't think Phyllis is either.

- She's a nice girl, and she loves you a lot.
- I know, Dad.

And when a woman loves a man that much...

she's, uh, apt to be a bit
oversensitive, you know.

- It's well to remember that.
- I'll remember that, Dad.

Just you go carefully. Be gentle.

You got a long time together -
all your lives, I hope...

and it's worthwhile to go easy
and get to know each other gradual.

And if, uh, later on -
a long time later on -

you should get yourself caught up
with someone else...

well, just see to it that Phyllis
doesn't get hurt by it.

Put your wife first always.

Anything that's liable to bust up your home
and your life with your wife and your kids -

Well, it's just not worth it.

You remember that
and you won't go far wrong.

All right, Dad. And thanks a lot.

Yeah.

I can only hope you that you will have
as good a wife as I have.

- I can't say more than that, can I?
- No, Dad.

Well, I better be getting myself dolled up.

And, uh, good luck, Son.

- Oh, Dad?
- Huh?

- How does this look from the back?
- Don't worry, old man. You look gorgeous.

- Hello, Billy.
- Oh, it's you, is it? And about time too.

You know, we're going to be late.

Here. Give us a brush.

- All ready for the ball and chain?
- You're too ruddy cheerful by half.

Well, of course I am.
I'm a sailor, aren't I?

All sailors are bright and breezy, you know?
It's in the regulations.

- You must be the life and soul of your ship.
- Oh, I am, I am.

Only the other morning
the admiral sent for me.

"Mitchell," he said,
"make me laugh."

So I told him the one about the parrot.

"Mitchell," he said,
"the ship's yours."

"Well, what shall I do with it?"
I said.

"Scuttle it," he said,
"and cut his throat from ear to ear."

- Have you got the ring all right?
- Matter of fact, I dropped it down the whatsit.

- What?
- Don't worry. We sent for a plumber.

I better go up and get my hat and gloves.
We oughta be starting in a minute.

Oh, why don't you look where you're going?
You nearly knocked me down.

Sorry, old girl.

- Oh, it's you.
- Yes.

Well, it's a nice day anyhow, isn't it?

Fine.

- You haven't said anything to anyone?
- No, of course not.

I'm awfully sorry about last night, Bill.
Really I am.

No need to be sorry.
It's not your fault.

Yes, but when you've gone back
they'll all be asking me questions...

and I don't know what to say.

Tell them the truth.

I love you and asked you to marry me.

You don't love me and said no.

Simple enough, isn't it?

Hmm. Sounds awful
when you say it like that.

No use pretending, is there?

No, I suppose there isn't.

I am sorry though all the same.
You do believe that, don't you?

Yes, I believe it, all right.

I never did say I would, did I?
I mean, I never let you think that -

I'm not blaming you.
I told you that last night.

It's just that I, uh -

Well, I can't help feeling a bit low.

It's natural enough, isn't it?

I suppose you won't
write to me anymore now, will you?

You're a funny girl, I must say.

I don't see anything
so very funny in that.

You want everything, don't you?

You know I love you more
than anyone else and want to marry you.

You turn me down flat,
then want me to go on writing to you.

If you've, uh, taken the trouble
to read my letters up to date...

you might remember
they was mostly about the future.

And that's all gone now, isn't it?

I'll send you a weather report
every so often if you'd like.

Oh, if you're going to turn nasty about it,
there's no use saying any more, is there?

There's someone else, isn't there?

I don't know what you mean.

I mean what I say.
You're in love with someone else, aren't you?

- Well, it's no business of yours if I am.
- It's true enough though, isn't it?

Now, look here, Billy.
I've had quite enough of you.

Why couldn't you have told me last night?

Or a long time ago?

What's the matter?
Don't you trust me?

Well, you haven't any right
to ask me things like that.

Now listen here, Queenie.

We've not seen much of each other
on account of me being away at sea.

But you've known all the time
that I was thinking of you...

and hoping that as the years went by...

you might grow out
of some of your highfalutin ideas...

and think me good enough
to be your husband.

All that gives me the right
to ask you anything I like.

No, it doesn't.

Is there someone else or isn't there?

Yes, there is, if you must know.
So there.

Are you going to marry him?

No.

- Why not?
- That's my affair.

- Is he married already?
- I wish you'd leave me alone.

- Is he?
- Yes, he is. Now are you satisfied?

Oh, Queen.

You're an awful fool.
I do wish you weren't.

Who are you calling a fool?
People can't help their feelings.

No, but they can have enough sense not
to let their feelings get the better of them.

Ah, what you're doing's wrong
whichever way you look at it.

There's your mother and father,
to start with.

It'll break their hearts
if they ever find out about it.

And there's the man's wife, whoever she is.
You're laying up trouble there.

But most important of all is you.

You won't get much out of it
in the long run...

and don't you fool yourself.

Ah, you're not that kind of a girl really,
whatever you may think.

Looks to me as if you're on the way
to mucking things up all round...

for yourself and everyone else.

Thanks very much for the lecture.

You're right.

No good me saying any more.

I'll, uh -

I'll go up and talk to Reg.

Good-bye, Queen.

Good luck.

These boots are
giving me what-for, all right.

If they're like this now, what are they
gonna be like by the evening?

Hello, Queenie.
You been talking to Billy?

Yes, and a couple of weddings in one year...

is a bit too much of a good thing,
if you ask me.

Yeah. Well, here's hoping you get off soon
and make the third.

I'll never be a bridesmaid again anyhow
as long as I live.

Look at this dress! And the hat.

Well, you've done something to it,
haven't you?

You bet I have.
I wasn't going to wear it as it was.

- But you look different from all the others.
- So I should hope.

Oh, Marjorie will be upset.
She and Phyll took such a lot of trouble.

Ah, they don't know anything
about clothes, either of them.

Well, thank heavens none of the girls
at the shop can see me looking such a sight.

Eh, it seems to me they must be
a pretty fancy lot, them girls at your shop.

We're always being told what they like
and what they don't like.

All right, Dad.
There's no need for you to be sarcastic.

Don't snap at your father, Queenie.
I don't know what's come over you lately.

Nothing's come over me. I just don't like
looking common, that's all.

I shouldn't worry about that if I was you.
It can't be helped.

You don't believe in people
trying to better themselves, do you?

Just because you're content to stick
in the same place all your life...

and do your bit of gardening
on Saturday afternoon in your shirt sleeves.

Don't you dare speak to your father
like that!

Living in a suburb and doing your own
cooking and washing up...

may be good enough for you,
but it's not good enough for me.

I'm sick of this house and everybody in it.
I'm not gonna stand it much longer.

- You'll see.
- You're a wicked, ungrateful girl.

- You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
- Well, I'm not, so there!

If it wasn't for being Reg's wedding day...

I'd lock you in your room
till you've come to your senses.

Well, a few years ago
we had Reg nagging at us...

because we were living on the fat of the land
while the poor workers were starving.

Now we have Queenie turning on us
because we're not grand enough for her.

I don't know what's wrong
with our children, Ethel, my girl.

Strikes me that Vi's the only one
who's got any real sense.

Vi. Vi's different from me, can't you see?
She always has been.

She doesn't like the things I like
or want the things I want.

She's perfectly happy
in that mangy little flat of hers...

doing her own housekeeping
and making her own clothes.

She likes bossing Sam about too.

Oh, he's a changed man
since he married her.

- And a good job too.
- Mmm?

Seems to me all the spirit's gone out of him.

He's just like everybody else now.
Just respectable.

- Well, what's the matter with that?
- Oh, nothing.

What's the good of arguing with you?
You don't understand what I'm talking about.

Don't waste your breath on us then.

We are as we are,
and that's how we're going to stay...

and if you don't like it,
well, you can lump it.

But one of these days, when you know
a bit more, you'll find out...

that there are worse things than being
just ordinary and respectable...

and living the way
you've been brought up to live.

But in the meantime -
as long as you're with us, I mean -

your mum and me
would be much obliged...

if you'd keep your tongue between
your teeth and behave yourself.

Now you'd better pop upstairs,
slap as much paint on your face as possible...

and do the girls at the shop credit.

- Go on, hop it.
- Thanks very much. I will.

There now. She'll be snapping
our heads off for the rest of the day.

We spoiled her when she was little.
We've always spoiled her.

Oh, it's not only that, Frank. She's upset
about something, sort of strung up.

She has been for a long time.
I wish I knew what it was.

The bridegroom will be out in a minute.

It's here! It's here!
The car's here!

It looks ever so nice, all done up
with white ribbons.

Good. Let's have a look, Ethel.
Better call Reg, Edie.

Reg, the car's here!

- Come on, Reg. The car's here.
- All right, all right. I'm coming.

And about time too. Here.

We don't want the brushing bride
to get there before we do.

- Hello, Son. Are you feeling nervous?
- Yes, a bit.

- Oh, Reg.
- Oh, cheer up, Mum.

See you at the church.

- Cheerio, Dad.
- Cheerio, Son.

And don't forget
to send it straight back.

Now come off it, Ethel.
There's nothing to cry about.

- I can't help it.
- Well, you'll make your nose red.

I don't mind if I do. He's our only son, isn't he?
He's going away from us, isn't he?

It's enough to make any woman cry.

Well, they'll be back from the honeymoon
in two weeks and living just round the corner.

It's all very fine for you. You didn't bring him
into the world and hold him at your breast.

I should have looked the proper fool
if I had.

You don't know anything about it.
You haven't got any feelings.

Now come on, now.
Stop crying and put your hat straight.

If I could lay my hands on that cat,
I'd kill it.

Half an hour it took to pick the hairs off.
And the front of the skirt all creased too.

Well, it doesn't show.

Is that the hat we've heard
such a lot about?

Yes, it is.

Oh.

Why? Is there anything the matter with it?

I think it's very nice, don't you, Frank?

Yes, it-it looks fine from here.

There's something a bit funny
about the crown, isn't there?

I don't know what you mean.

Well, of course.
If you're satisfied.

Oh, do be quiet, Mother.
Don't take any notice of her, Sylvia.

- That'll be no change.
- Here's Vi and Sam.

Nobody ever does take any notice of me.

- Sure you're feeling all right, dear?
- I'm fine.

It's only just first thing in the morning,
you know? I do hope I look all right.

Stop fussing, dear.
You look nicer than anyone there.

Oh, Vi, how pretty you look, dear.

I only finished it at 11:00 last night.

The whole flat's been covered
in paper patterns and bits of stuff...

and pins for the past 10 days.

- We're all in the parlor. Go on in.
- Hello, Uncle Bob.

- Good morning. And I want everybody.
- Good morning.

- Hello, Bob. Hello, Sam.
- Go on in.

- Oh, in?
- Hello.

Edie?

Yes, Mrs. Gibbons?

- Watch out for the car.
- Yes, Mrs. Gibbons.

Don't hang out of the window though.
It looks silly.

As if I would.

On my wedding day
there was a thunderstorm...

and a man got struck by lightning
just opposite the church.

Well, that must have cheered things up.

One side of his face was all twisted.

That car ought to be back by now.

I suppose Billy remembered
to tell the driver, all right.

Now don't fuss, Ethel.

Well, better sit down, hadn't we, all of us?
There's no sense in standing about.

Oh, Mrs. Baker and Miss Whitney
have just come out of number 12.

Got up to kill, they are.

Mrs. Whitney, stuck-up thing.

It seems only yesterday.

What does, Mother?

The day you and Frank was married.

I can see your poor Aunt Connie now,
coughing her heart out in the vestry.

It was only three months after that
she was taken.

- That's right.
- I should be lucky if I last out another year.

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

I don't suppose anybody would mind much.

There's many as might say it was
a blessing in disguise, I shouldn't wonder.

Now then, Mother, none of that.

Dr. Spearman said my heart
was thoroughly worn out...

ever since that bronchitis
I had in February.

Dr. Spearman.

He's a lot better than your Dr. Lewis
any day of the week.

If it hadn't been for him having
presence of mind...

Mrs. Spooner would be
as dead as a doornail this very minute.

That's what you say.

At 11:00 she was doing her shopping.

She was putting the joint
in the oven at 12:00.

A nice bit of leg of lamb it was too.

And at half past 1:00,
she was in the hospital...

lying flat on her back on the operating table.

And if it hadn't been
for Dr. Spearman -

I wonder what's happened to that car.
It's getting on, you know.

Shall I go out and have a look?

There's no need to do that.
It'll turn up in a minute.

I had those pains again in the night, Ethel.
Something terrible, they were.

- Started about 2:00.
- It's all those sweets you eat.

There's nothing like sweets
for giving you wind.

It was not wind!

- Morning, Queen.
- Hello, Queenie.

Hello, all. It's nearly 10 to,
and if that car's not here soon, I'm going.

I've got to be on time to meet
Marjorie and Doreen Weaver.

Well, if it doesn't come soon,
we can walk. It's only just up the road.

I do wish everybody would stop fussing.
It gives me the pip.

It shouldn't have taken Reg and Billy more
than three or four minutes to go there.

I'm sure I hope nothing dreadful's
happened to them.

Oh, Granny, what could have?

Accidents will happen.

Some people seem to think
of nothing but horrors.

Morbid, that's what it is.

I'll thank you not to call me names,
Sylvia Gibbons.

You make me tired.

Now don't answer back, Sylvia.
It'll only mean a row.

I'm sure I don't want to say
anything to anybody - but really.

Pity you don't keep quiet then.

Who are you to talk to me like that?
I've had about enough of your nagging!

Ah, shut up, Sylvia.
You know it's no good arguing with her.

I don't know any such thing!
I tell you, I'm sick of it!

Morning, noon and night it's the same thing!
She's at me all the time, and I won't stand it.

I've got as much right to be
in this house as she has.

Just because she's old and pretends her heart's
weak, she thinks she can say what she likes.

I tell you one thing here and now,
and that is I've had enough trouble...

and sorrow and suffering in my life
without having to put up with...

her eternal, nagging
and nasty insinuations!

She's nothing but a spiteful,
mischief-making old cat!

If I have any more of it, old as she is...

I'll slap her face till her teeth rattle!

- Just you try!
- Now come on, Mother, keep calm!

I'm dying a painful death,
and I won't spend another night...

under the same roof with her.

It's back! It's back! The car's back!

Now come on, Mother.
It's time to go to the church.

- Come on, Granny. You come with me.
- I'm all right.

You'd better, dear. You know what you are,
and it's quite a long service.

Well, take her to the outside one, Vi.
It's quicker.

I tell you I'm all right!

Come on, everybody!
The driver says he's got a funeral at 12:30!

Oh, shut up, Edie!

Me boa. Me feather boa, it's gone.

- I've lost me boa.
- I'll get it!

Heaven help poor sailors
on a night like this.

- Where's the light?
- Over by the door.

Oh.

It's lucky this was open. We'd have woke up
Ethel if we'd come in by the front.

Here we are.

Psst!

- Now then.
- Now then what?

One more nightcap.

You won't half have a thick head
in the morning.

- Well, how about you?
- I'm past caring, old man.

That's right.

Say when.

Hey, hey, hey. Go easy.

Hold it while I put the soda in.

Your eyes look terrible - all swimmy.

Never you mind about my eyes.
Yours don't look so good from here.

Oh, dear.

Now I've wetted my Victoria Cross.

- Don't you wish you had one?
- Eh, a fat lot of good it had done me if I had.

I'd like to take this opportunity
of saying...

that my old regiment
is the finest in the world.

Next to the East Surreys, it is.

Here's to the Buffs.

Here's to the East Surreys.

Ah!

And, uh, your old regiment's
the finest in the world too.

That's right.

Here's to the East Surreys.

Here's to the Buffs.

Here. What was that one that chap told us
about the couple in the park?

Shut up. You'll start me off.

Heh, that little so-and-so, he can't half
tell 'em, and no mistake about it.

You know, it's not so much what he says
as the way he says it.

Dry, you know. That's what he was. Dry.

- That reminds me.
- What?

One more.

- Hey, hey, go easy.
- Go on. It will do you the world of good.

We won't half look silly
if Ethel catches us.

Well, it's me own house, isn't it?

I can do as I like in it.
An Englishman's home is his castle.

Hmm.

- Bungo.
- Bungo.

Hey. Have you heard from Billy lately?

Yes. He writes once a week.
He's in Malta now.

Good old Billy. He's a fine boy.

You know, I haven't said much about it,
but I've often thought...

that maybe Billy and Queenie
might one day -

Ah, Queenie. She gives me a headache -
all her airs and graces.

A good hiding's what she needs.

That wouldn't be any use.

Girls get like that.
No doing anything with them.

I think Billy'd stick to her
whatever she did.

How do you mean?

He just loves her, that's all.

It's funny, isn't it? Having kids
and seeing what they grow up like.

Hmm. I'll have to be
pushing off in a minute.

Here. Have one more for the road.

The road? I've only got three yards to go.

Yeah, well, we don't have a binge like this
every day of the week.

Ah, it's a strange world, no mistake.

You know what I was thinking tonight,
looking at all those chaps in the old regiment?

One or two of them
looked a bit under the weather.

Yeah. We've been lucky.

You said it.

I wonder when the next war will be.

Not in our time -
or our sons' time, thank heavens.

I wouldn't bank on that.

How could there be?
Everyone's disarming.

We are.

Well, there's the good old
League of Nations.

Well, they don't seem to have
stopped Japan turning nasty.

Japan! Who worries about Japan?

Nice, long way off, that's one thing.

Yeah, well, a lot of trouble can start
from a long way off.

Nah. Don't you worry your head
about Japan.

We've got a nice new government now...

and everything in the garden's lovely.

Stanley Baldwin.

Ramsay Macdonald.

There you are. Now you've done it.

- Oh, dear.
- I wish you could see your face.

Here. Quiet a minute. Listen.

What?

Here. I'd better hop it.

That's right, leave your best pal
to face the barrage alone.

Pull yourself together.
We're for it here.

Chest out. Chin up.

And what do you think you're doing,
if I may make so bold?

- Bob was just going home.
- Oh, just going home, was he?

- Sorry we woke you up, Ethel.
- I suppose you know

Well, who cares?
Time was meant for slaves.

You go on up to bed, Frank Gibbons.

I'll have something to say to you later.
What was that you broke?

It was only the poor old Johnnie Walker.

It's all my fault, Ethel.

You ought to be ashamed of yourselves,
men of your age...

coming home drunk and waking up
the whole house.

You're not an whole house,
Ethel, old girl.

You're just a little bungalow.

Come on, Bob. It's time you was going home.

Yeah, now don't be hard on him, Ethel.
He's my best pal.

He may be looking
a bit silly, I'll admit...

but he's my pal all the same.

- Who's looking silly?
- You are.

What about you?

You both look silly, but it's nothing to what
you're going to look in the morning.

Now come on, Bob.
I'm not gonna stay here much longer.

All right, all right. I can take a hint.

Good night, Mrs. G.

Good night, Sergeant.

It's been a pleasure.

Steady the Buffs.

Eh - All right.

All right. You don't have to say nothing.
I know -

Now stop it, Frank. The next time
you go to a regimental dinner...

you can go to a hotel afterwards
and sleep it off.

I won't have it, you hear? This is
my dining room. This is not a bar parlor.

Go on. Get up to bed,
and don't make a noise either.

- What's this?
- What's what?

This letter.

I haven't written no letters.

It's Queenie's writing.

Here. You can't open
the girl's private letters.

It's addressed to you and me.

Well, I'll be blowed.

She's gone.

Read it.

Who is this man?
Have you ever seen him?

No.

I'll fetch her back.
I'll give her the hiding of her life.

Can't find her.

Doesn't say where she's gone.

"We love each other.

His wife won't divorce him.

We can't live without each other...

so we're going away."

This is our fault.

We ought to have known
something like this would happen.

We let her have her own way too much
ever since she was a child.

Queenie.

We'll trace her, all right.
Don't you worry.

We'll find out who the man is
through the shop.

It must have been there that she met him.
We'll get her back.

I don't want her back.
She's no child of mine.

I never want to see her again
as long as I live.

- Don't talk like that, Ethel.
- I mean it.

I've done my best to bring her up
to behave respectable...

to be a good girl,
but it hasn't been any use.

If she loves this man that much,
maybe it was too strong for her.

Maybe she couldn't help herself.

You don't see what she's done
same way as what I do, do you?

Oh, I don't know.

You and me never have quite seen eye to eye
about what's right and what's wrong.

You'd have her back tomorrow
if she'd come, wouldn't you?

But I wouldn't.

You've always encouraged her,
told her how clever she was...

let her twist you around her little finger.

All I've done is to try laughing at her
instead of scolding her.

Well, you've got something
to laugh at now, haven't you?

Don't go for me, Ethel.
She's my girl as well as yours.

I'm not going for anyone.
I've done my best. I can't do no more.

You can't stop loving the girl all at once,
even if she has done wrong.

I can try.

What's the sense in that?

It's nothing to do with sense.
It's how you feel.

I've never seen you like this before.

Hard as nails, you are.

What did you expect me to be?

Oh, I don't know.

I suppose you've never cared for Queenie
as much as you did the other two.

- It's not fair to say that!
- It's true though, isn't it?

No, it's not.

She's always been the most trouble,
that's true enough.

And she's certainly never put herself out
to help me the way Vi has, that's true too.

But I've cared for her just the same
as I have the others...

and don't you start saying I haven't.

It's no use laying the blame for this
at my door.

What she's done she's done on her own...

and I'll never forgive her for it
till the end of my days.

Oh, well.

If you feel like that, it's not much good
talking about it, is it?

Will you turn out, or shall I?

Ethel.

I'm going back to bed now.

You'd better tidy up a bit
before you come up.

This sink's taking a terrible time
to run out.

It's my belief the plug hole's
stopped up.

Well, you better pop round
to the tobacconist on the way home...

- and telephone Mr. Freeman.
- Righto.

- How long before tea's ready?
- About five minutes. The kettle's on.

Here are the tea things.

Why are you laying tea so early?

Because Frank's taking us to the Majestic.

I wish somebody would turn that wireless off.
It's getting on my nerves.

Ethel'd have it playing all day.

Just 'cause Reg gave it to her.

The skies will fall next,
I shouldn't wonder -

you doing something I asked you
without grumbling.

Now, Mrs. Flint, don't start.

It was a lucky day for all of us
when you met that Mrs. Wilmot.

Well, we won't argue about it, will we?

You're not so touchy as you used to be,
flying off at the least thing.

I'm very glad, I'm sure.

You haven't had one of your headaches
for weeks, have you?

No, I have not.

There you are then.

Well, perhaps you'd sooner have me
as I was before -

not sleeping a wink at night
and suffering and being in error.

- In what?
- Error.

Oh, so that's what it was.

And you needn't sneer
at Mrs. Wilmot either.

She's a wonderful woman.

She must be to make you believe
there isn't anything the matter with you.

It's what I've been saying for years.

Well, then we won't say anything more
about it, will we?

We will if we feel like it.

- Sylvia?
- Yes, Frank?

Tell Ethel to start tea without me.
I've got one more bed to do.

- Where is she?
- Upstairs, laying down.

Frank's been a changed man
since Queenie left.

I haven't noticed much difference.

Do you think she'll ever come back?

She'll have a piece of my mind if she does,
bringing disgrace on all of us.

- He had a letter from her the other day.
- How do you know?

Well, it came by the midday post, along with
that letter I had from Mrs. Wilmot.

I recognized the handwriting.

- Think he told Ethel?
- Well, not very likely.

It had a French stamp.

Disgusting.

What was disgusting?

Gracious Ethel, what a start you gave me.

- What was disgusting?
- A French stamp.

A French stamp?
What are you talking about?

About the letter that Frank had
from Queenie.

- Oh, were you?
- Then it was from Queenie?

You know perfectly well I won't have
Queenie's name spoken in this house.

She's gone her own way, and that's that.
She doesn't belong here anymore.

I always knew that girl'd come to no good.

Once and for all, Mother,
will you hold your tongue?

I'm sick and tired of you and Sylvia
gabbing and whispering behind my back.

Here's the tea!

Are you coming over to the table,
or shall I bring it to you?

I'll stay here.
The less I open me mouth, the better.

- Where's Frank?
- In the garden.

He said to begin without him.

I'm sorry I spoke to you like that, Sylvia.

It doesn't matter, I'm sure.

I dropped off to sleep on my bed
this afternoon, had a bad dream.

What was it about?

I can't remember.

I woke up feeling as if the world
had come to an end.

Well, they say dreams go by contraries.

Yes, they do, don't they?

I'm going to take Frank his tea
into the garden.

Once he starts watering he'd go on
all night if we'd let him.

Now I wonder who that is.

I don't know. Might be Reg and Phyll.

Oh, can't be. They've gone to Sevenoaks
with that friend of theirs.

Hello, Vi.

Why, Vi. Whatever's the matter?

- Where are Mum and Dad?
- In the garden.

Take Granny upstairs.
There's been an accident.

It's Reg and Phyll.
I've got to tell Mum and Dad.

- What's that?
- What sort of an accident? What happened?

They were in Reg's car.
A lorry came out of a turning.

Are they badly hurt?

They're dead.

Oh!

Mrs. Goulding was with them.

She knew I had a telephone,
so she rung me up from the hospital.

She was in the back and got thrown out.

Please take Granny upstairs.
I must tell them alone.

Don't cry, Auntie Sylvia.
They'll hear you.

Don't let them hear you.

I can't believe it! I can't! I can't.

Aunt Sylvia, please!

Vi, help me up.

Feel all right, dear?

Yes, thanks.

What are you thinking about?

Oh, nothing.

Fancy a cup of tea?

Yes. I can always do
with a cup of tea.

Let's go up to the Corner House
at Marble Arch.

Right.

Do you know this is the first time you and I
have been for a walk together for years?

Yes. Park Lane's changed, hasn't it?

Nothing but great, big hotels now.
It seems a shame.

They won't be ashamed though.
That's all they're doing over there.

They're doing the same thing to our leader
as they once did to Hitler in Germany.

Everyone in Germany used to say
that he'd never get in...

and he wouldn't know how to regenerate
Germany if he did get in.

Well, there he is, and a new life
has started for Germany.

When I saw those Jews and Communists
smacked down in Olympia the other day...

for trying to silence our leader -

Let me tell you, I thought this.

How about that cup of tea?

I thought the day of reckoning
will come in this country too.

The day will come when all the little rats
and mice are thrown back...

into the gutter where they belong.

Here you are!
Paper! Election results! Paper!

Election results! Paper!

Election results right here.

Election results right here.

The late election results right here.

All the late election results here.

Election results.

Election results!

It looks as though it's going to be
a walkover, old man.

A landslide. A veritable landslide.

- The best thing that could have happened.
- I hope you're right.

Conservative gain.

Here are three more election results.

Swindon division of Wiltshire:

W.W. Wakefield, Conservative.

20,732.

Ah. There's a face you can trust.

A bulletin has been received...

regarding the king's illness...

which will be broadcast
in a few moments.

The following bulletin has just been issued
from Buckingham Palace.

"The king's life is moving peacefully...

towards its close.

We invite you to join in recollection
and prayer...

for our king."

Ethel, what are you doing?

It's near the end of the year anyway.

Well, that's that.

There won't be nothing more
to listen to tonight.

All the stations have closed down.

Well, how's the library going,
Aunt Sylvia?

Oh, all right. I'm leaving next month to help
Mrs. Wilmot with her work in the temple.

- What temple?
- The Temple of Spiritual Radiation.

Oh, I see.

We'll have to be going in a minute, Vi.

I'll pop out and get my hat.
I left it in Mum's room.

How are the children, Sam?

Oh, Sheila's all right,
but Joan's been a bit seedy.

Doctor told us to keep her in bed
for two or three days.

Did he indeed?

Well, I suppose if you believe in doctors
it's best to do what they say.

Well, it stands to reason they know a bit more
about it than we do, doesn't it?

No, I don't think it does.

What would you do if you broke your leg?

I suppose you'd send for a doctor then,
wouldn't you?

I wouldn't break my leg.

But if you did. If you were run over
through no fault of your own.

I should certainly send for treatments.

Well, there you are then.

You don't understand, Sam.
Of course there's no reason why you should.

- You haven't studied the matter, have you?
- No, I haven't.

It wouldn't be surgical treatment
I should send for.

It would be spiritual treatment.

Would that heal a compound fracture?

Certainly.

- Frank, where's Ethel?
- She's in the kitchen.

We miss Edie, and that's a fact.

I've tried to make Ethel get someone else,
but she won't.

There's not so much to do
since Mrs. Flint passed on.

Now don't talk so soft, Sylvia.
Mother died, see?

First of all she got flu,
and that turned to pneumonia.

The strain of that affected her heart, which
was none too strong at the best of times...

and she died.

- It's nothing to do with passing on at all.
- How do you know?

I know it's only your new way of talking,
but it gets me down, see?

- What are you shouting about?
- I'm not shouting about nothing at all.

I'm merely explaining to Sylvia
that Mother died.

She didn't pass on, pass over or pass out.
She died.

Dad, you do make me laugh.
You do, really.

It's not a fit subject to talk about
anyway.

Come on, Sam. We'd better be going.

- Good night, Mum.
- Good night, dear.

- Good night, all.
- Good night, dear.

- I'll come to the door with you.
- Where's Archie, Ethel?

Asleep in the kitchen.
He's been out once tonight.

As a mouser, Archie knocks poor old Percy
into a cocked hat.

- I think I'll go to bed now, Ethel.
- All right, dear.

- How about the washing up?
- That's all right. Frank and me will do it.

Vi was looking a bit peaky, wasn't she?

Oh, she's worried about Joan, I think.

Ah, she'll get over it. Remember the trouble
we had with Queenie when she was tiny?

Yes, I do.

Sorry, I forgot.

You're lucky.

You're a funny woman, Ethel,
and no mistake.

I expect I am.

We're as God made us. I suppose there's
nothing much to be done about it.

Well, I wouldn't be so sure.

Being bitter about anybody
isn't a good thing...

let alone if it happens to be
your own daughter.

I'm not bitter. I just don't think
about her anymore, that's all.

That's one of the things I don't believe.

Well, don't let's talk about it anymore,
shall we?

I wish you'd get someone else
in place of Edie.

I don't need anyone now.
There's only the three of us.

What anybody ever wanted
to marry her for beats me.

No reason why they shouldn't.
She was a good girl, a good worker.

Exactly the reason I married you.

"She may not be much to look at,"
I said to myself...

"but there's a worker if ever I saw one."

Oh!

Oh, Billy, what a shock you gave me.

Frank! Frank, Billy's here!

- Sorry, Mrs. Gibbons.
- I had no idea you was back.

I got in about an hour ago,
so I dropped in for a chat.

- Oh, well, go on in. I'll be round in a moment.
- Righto.

- Hello, Mr. Gibbons.
- Well, well, here's a surprise. Come on in.

- Got a couple of weeks leave.
- Go on.

Yeah. I've been transferred
from a cruiser to a destroyer.

- Do you like that?
- You bet I do.

Oh, Billy, I am glad to see you.
I'm sure your father is too.

It's been lonely for him by himself in that
house ever since your mother was taken.

Nora died, Ethel.
Nobody took her.

Ought to be ashamed of yourself,
talking like that in front of Billy.

Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?
It won't take a moment.

No, thanks, Mrs. Gibbons, no.
There's, uh -

There's something I want to talk to you about,
as a matter of fact.

- Yeah, both of you.
- What is it, son?

- Got a cigarette on you?
- Yeah.

- Left mine next door, eh.
- Here we are.

Thanks.

Well?

I feel a bit awkward, really.

I wanted Dad to come along and back me up,
but - he wouldn't.

A man your age hanging on
to his father's coattails.

I never heard of such a thing.
Here, what have you been up to?

What is it, Billy?

It's about Queenie.

What about her?

Does it still make you angry
even to hear her name?

I'm not angry.

Have you seen her, Billy?

Yes, I've seen her.

- How is she?
- Fine.

Well...

what was it you wanted to say
about Queenie, Billy?

I sympathize with how you feel, Mrs. Gibbons.
Really I do.

And what's more, she does too.

She knows what a wrong she did
in going off like that...

and it didn't take her long to realize it.

She hasn't had any too good a time,
you know.

The man she went off with
went back to his wife...

and left her stranded
in a sort of boarding house in Brussels.

How long was it before she found
another man to take her on?

Ethel.

A long time - over three years.

She's all right now then, isn't she?

Yes, she's all right now.

What sort of a bad time did she have?
How do you mean?

Trying to earn a living for herself.
You know, getting in and out of different jobs.

She showed dresses off
in a dressmaker shop for over a year...

then she got a job looking after some
English children, but that didn't last long.

Then she got ill with appendicitis
and was taken to hospital.

Where? Where was she taken to hospital?
How long ago?

Paris, about a year ago.

When she was in hospital, she picked up
with an old Scotswoman in the next bed.

A little later on, the two of them
started an old English tea room...

in Menton in the South of France -
you know, just for English visitors.

That's where I ran into her by accident.

We were doing a summer cruise, and the
ship I was in laid off there for a few days.

A couple of pals and I went ashore
for a cup of tea. There she was.

Is she there now?

- No, she isn't there now.
- Where is she then?

She's here.

Here?

How do you mean, here?

Next door with Dad.

Billy!

We were married last week
in the registry office in Plymouth.

Married?

Well, I've always loved her, you know.
Always said I'd wait for her.

Oh, son. I can't believe it.

Oh, son.

You'll forgive her now,
won't you, Mrs. Gibbons?

I don't seem to have much choice, do I?

I always thought you'd like to have me
for a son.

Better late than never.

That's what it is, isn't it?

Better late than never.

Oh, dear.

Shall I get you a little nip of something?

Yes, please.

Where is it?

In the sideboard cupboard.

Hello, Mum.

So you've come back, have you?

You bad girl.

Yes, Mum.

A nice way to behave, I must say -

upsetting me like this.

Evening Standard. Chamberlain flies to Munich.
Read all about it. Paper!

Chamberlain flies to Munich.
Paper!

Oh, just a minute, Mum.

Well, I must say, I'd just as soon be bombed
on me own two feet...

as crouching down in one of those.

Well, you've chosen a nice time
to be born, I will say.

I always knew it, you know.

- Always knew what?
- That there wouldn't be a war.

I thought there would be, I must say.

Otherwise I shouldn't have sent Sheila
and Joan down to Mrs. Marsh in Dorset.

I know you did, dear.

Your mother was worried, too,
about Queenie and little Frankie.

But I wasn't. Neither was Mrs. Wilmot.

Fancy that now.

Mrs. Wilmot laughed outright when
the woman came to try on her gas mask.

"Take that stupid thing away," she said.
Just like that, quite simply.

- The woman was furious.
- I'm not surprised.

Hello, Vi.

- Good evening, Frank.
- Where's your mother?

In the kitchen. She's been upstairs
with Queenie and the baby.

Nothing wrong with His Lordship,
is there?

Oh, no. He's fine. Queenie's not feeling
any too good, so she went to bed.

Oh. I'll pop up and see her in a minute.

Did you see anything of the crowds?

I did.

We heard him arrive at the airport
on the wireless.

So did I.

Sam's meeting me at
the Strand Corner House a little later on.

We thought we'd have a look
at the crowds. Ought to be exciting.

Mmm. It's exciting, all right -
if you like seeing a lot of people...

yelling their heads off without the faintest
idea what they're yelling about.

Oh, how can you, Frank? They're cheering
'cause they've been saved from war.

Yeah. I'll cheer about that
when it's proved to me.

You wouldn't care if there was
another war.

You're one of those people
who think it doesn't matter...

that millions and millions
of innocent people should be bombed.

Just because you enjoyed yourself
in the last one.

Now listen here, Sylvia.

Don't you talk to me like that,
because I won't have it, see?

I did not enjoy myself in the last war.

Nobody but a fool without any imagination
would ever say that he did.

And I do not think it doesn't matter if millions
and millions of innocent people are bombed.

So you can get them stupid ideas
out of your head to start with.

But what I would like to say is this:

I've seen something today that I wouldn't
believe could happen in this country.

I've seen thousands of people -
British people, mark you -

carrying on like maniacs,
shouting and cheering with relief...

for no other reason but that they've been
thoroughly frightened.

And it made me sick, and that's a fact.

And I only hope to goodness we've got
guts enough to learn one lesson from this...

and we shall never find ourselves in a position
again where we have to appease anybody.

All you men ever think about is having guts
and being top dog and killing each other.

I'm a woman. I don't care how much
we appease so long as we don't have a war.

War is wicked and evil and vile.

Them that live by the sword
shall die by the sword.

It's more blessed to give
than to receive.

Well, I don't think it's more blessed
to give in...

than receive a nice kick in the pants
for doing it.

You're a warmonger.
That's what you are, a warmonger.

Judging by the heavy way you're breathing,
Sylvia...

I should say you was in error.

You're no brother of mine!
I don't ever want to speak to you again!

It's no use arguing with her, Dad.
She's getting sillier and sillier every day.

Well, I must be off. I'm picking up Sam.
We're going to see the crowds.

Oh. Sorry, Dad.

Well, you can cheer your heads off
for all I care.

- Why don't you take a squeaker with you?
- Maybe I will.

Good night, Mum.

- Good night, dear. See you in the morning.
- Good night.

- Good night, dear.
- Good night, Dad.

Good night, Queen!

I brought me boots.

Well, you'll have to clean them yourself.

I've got my hands full as it is.

- How's Queenie?
- Oh, she's all right.

You'd think nobody had ever
had a baby before.

She had a letter from Billy
this afternoon.

He wants her to join him
at Singapore after Christmas.

But the baby won't be old enough
to travel.

- She'll leave him here.
- What, with us?

Of course. Don't be so silly.
Who else would she leave him with?

- Oh, that'll be fine, won't it?
- Fine for you, maybe.

You won't have to look after him.

Oh, dear, what a week.

I couldn't believe I could be so tired.

Poor old girl.
You do look a bit done up.

You run up and say good night
to Queenie before she drops off.

All right, bossy.

That's enough.

Oh, I'm expecting Bob to pop in
and have a farewell binge.

Give me a shout when he comes,
will you?

Binge indeed. One small one's
all you're going to have...

my lad, if I have to come and take
the bottle away from you meself.

I'd like to see you try.

- Hello, Ethel.
- Hello, Bob.

Frank's just gone up to say good night
to Queenie. He'll be down in a minute.

Heh. What a week.

With the crisis and the sandbags, and me
having to move the furniture into the bargain.

- Has most of it gone?
- Yes, went this afternoon.

I'm sleeping on a camp bed tonight.

Frank will miss you.

- Well, so shall I.
- I'm not going so far.

You'll both come down and see me,
won't you?

Oh, of course we will.

You'll feel a bit lost, I expect,
living in the country.

Oh, I don't know. I shall have me garden.

A sight better than the one I got here.
And the sea's nearby, and the village pub.

We'll come down and see you quite soon.

Well, I'm going to go and find Frank.
He promised to give me a drink.

- Oh, well, you better be getting along.
- Yes.

Good-bye, Ethel.

Good-bye, Bob.

Take care of yourself.

I will.

Do you remember the first night
we moved in?

- When we had Sylvia's Wincarnis.
- That's going back a bit.

Nearly 20 years.

And here we are, just the same.

Are we?

I suppose we're not.

- It's a strange world.
- You said it.

All them years.
All the things that happened in them.

I wouldn't go back over them again
for all the rice in China, would you?

Not on your life.

You remember that picnic
at Box Hill in 1923?

When you got as tight as a tick
and fell over and sprained your ankle?

Whatever made you think of that?

I don't know. I was just thinking.

Do you remember that night we went
to your regimental dinner?

That was the night Queenie went off.

Yeah. Reg was alive then.

That would be about a year before.

I wonder what happens to rooms
when people give them up...

go away and leave the house empty?

- How do you mean?
- I don't know.

I was thinking about you going away
from next door after all this time...

and me and Ethel going away, too,
pretty soon...

and wondering what the next people
that live in this room will be like.

Whether they'll feel any bits of us
left about the place.

Here, shut up.
You're giving me the willies.

You don't think the Germans
will ever get here, do you?

No, of course I don't.

I'm feeling a bit bad
about all this business.

I'm not feeling too good myself.

I shall miss you a devil of a lot.

Same here.

You'll be popping down to see me,
won't you?

You bet.

Happy days, old pal.

Now don't you worry about little Frankie.
We'll take care of him.

- And don't forget to give my love to Billy.
- No, Mum.

Your luggage is all aboard,
and I've seen the steward...

and you got a cabin all to yourself
as far as Marseilles.

Don't fuss, Frank.

That's us. We'd better be going.

Good-bye, dear.

- All visitors ashore!
- Good-bye.

Come on, please.

Good-bye, Mum.

Good-bye, dear.
Take care of yourself.

- Be a good girl.
- Stand clear of the gangway!

And don't forget to send us a postcard
with a camel on it!

No, all right, Dad, I won't!

- Oh, Mum?
- Hmm?

Don't let Frankie start to walk -

What?

Walk!

I don't want his legs to go in!

Oh!

Good-bye!

Well, that's that.
I never thought we'd get it all in.

- How's His Lordship?
- Oh, he's fine.

I gave him that postcard Queenie sent
with a camel on it.

He liked it.

He's dribbling, dirty boy.

Well, I expect you dribbled
when you was his age.

I do still if I happen to drop off
in the afternoon.

Well, that's nothing to boast about.

A bit snappy, aren't we?

Who wouldn't be
with all I've had to do today?

- Poor old crock.
- Oh, now then, Frank.

We haven't got no time
for fooling about.

That's just where you're wrong.
We got all the time in the world.

Have it your own way.

- I shall miss that garden.
- Well, it's your own fault.

- You're the one as wanted to move.
- I know.

You'll have the balcony anyway.
You can put window boxes all round.

Window boxes.

You know, sometime a bit later on
when I stop working...

we might take a little place
in the country, mightn't we?

- When might that be, may I ask?
- Oh, I don't know. In a few years, maybe.

We'll see about that
when the time comes.

I think you'd like the country.

I know you're frightened about it
being a bit too quiet, but...

when people get older,
they don't mind so much about being quiet.

We're not all that old yet, you know?

- That's funny, isn't it?
- What is?

Well, you'd think when you take
everything out of a room, it'd look bigger.

But this one looks smaller.

I shall be glad to be out of it.

So shall I.

Sorry too, though, in a way.

Yes.

Well, we'd better be going.

It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Yes.

I don't mind how many flats
we move into...

where we go or what we do...

so long as I've got you.

Don't talk so silly.