# Oh, the good life... #
(Cork pops )
# Full of fun
# Seems to be the ideal
# Oh, the good life
# Let's you hide
# All the sadness you feel
# You won't really fall in love... #
With Scotland Yard breathing down me neck? Fuck off.
(Laughter)
# So, please, be honest with yourself... #
Do me a favour?!
(Laughter)
(Bell)
(Echoing laughter)
Solomon's. That was round the back.
Down that alley.
We went there to meet what's-his-name...Mick...
- Mikey. - No, Harry.
Harry... Oh, fuck.
- Harry Michaels? - That was it.
lt was.
Course it was. Harry Michaels.
(Cackles )
What was it about?
He had some kind of problem.
What the fuck is he going on about?
No. His brother had a record business -
funny sorta name -
l can see it spinning.
They usually do, Dodgy.
Someone take him home.
Barry! That was it.
Deram Records. Barry... Barry...
Barry... What the fuck am l talking about?
l'm fucked if l know.
Wouldn't think he'd just got out the nick.
# lt's the good life
# To be free and explore the unknown... #
(Crowd cheers and whistles )
# Like the heartaches
# When you learn
# You must face them alone
# Please remember
# l still want you... #
(Laughs ) 'Ere, guess who l bumped into the other day?
Larry Lord!
- Lordy! - Yeah.
(Laughter)
He ain't half put on weight.
Fat as a pig.
'Ere, talkin' of golden oldies,
Freddie Mays is gettin' out next week.
Be good to see old Freddie again after...
Thirty years!
Lock up your daughters.
Lock up your granny, more like!
(Laughter echoes )
Hello, where's he gone?
You haven't invited that cunt?
(Together) Do me a favour.
(All laugh)
You done well for yourself, didn't ya?
Come 'ere, pops.
'Ere you are, grandad,
go get yourself a nice bird.
What do you take me for - a cunt?
(Crowd cheering)
(Cheering continues )
(Thudding amplified)
(Gangster) 'This is 1968.
'l'm playing Jack the lad at snooker,
'when all of a sudden,
'Fat Charlie's come in.
'Not that he was fat. He was skinny.
'He was called fat, cos his mum was fat.
'That's how he was distinguished
'from the other Charlie - Skinny Charlie.
'He WAS fat, but it was too late to swap it around.
'He says to me...'
Go and see Freddie Mays.
'Fuckin' hell. My heart was going mad.
'Freddie Mays!
'Freddie Mays - the butcher of Mayfair.
'The man was a legend.
'He'd done a copper in Bethnal Green
'and got away with it for fuck's sake.
'That's 'ow you get to the top.
'Kill a bent cop, make a splash.
'After that, Freddie was king.
'What a place.
'A fucking palace.
'ln he came. There he was.
'ln those 'and-made ltalian leather shoes.
'Silk socks. The suit? Do me a favour.
'The man was class. A class act.
'Style im-fucking-peccable.
'What a man.
'l mean a real man.'
All right, 'ow you doing?
Yeah, good.
- Do you want a drink? - Yeah.
You look a bit scared, son. You scared?
No.
(Sniggering)
'Scared? l didn't need a drink. l was drunk enough.
'Drunk on the smell of ltalian leather.
'Arse-holed on the smell of success.'
l hear you 'ang around with Mad John.
- Yeah. - This incident last week,
apparently, you handled yourself quite well.
Yeah.
(Laughter)
Trevor heard that, didn't you?
Yeah.
(Snorts )
He thinks you're a bit of a laugh.
Does he?
(Freddie) Bit of a wide-boy, Trevor. lndependent thinker.
Enjoys taking the piss. Things he gets up to. (Tuts )
When you work for me, you do things my way.
No going behind my back,
no going out on your own,
and there's no independent fucking...
Fuck!
(Whimpers ) Freddie.
Because it irks me.
(Trevor) l can't fucking see.
(Moans )
Yeah,
that's the word - irks.
Anyway, it appears we have a vacancy.
You're in, son.
'Straight off, he gives me 500.
'500 in me 'ands! This is 1968.'
Take out the rubbish.
Hey.
(Groans )
(Freddie) Oh, and get yourself kitted out.
(Coughs )
'There we were, suited up,
'wasted on these fucking toe-rags.'
Oi, you cunt!
Come 'ere, you cunt!
Come 'ere!
No! No!
Give me till next Thursday.
Thursday never fucking comes!
'Give me till next Thursday? Slags!
'lt's pathetic.
'Fucking excuses. All sorts.
'From ''A'' to ''Z'' - the whole alphabet.
'Jokers. Two minutes later, they're in The Green Man,
'giving it the big 'un,
'like you're Harry the spastic or something.'
- Hold him. - Hey!
What's the problem?
You are! Still, nothing l can't fix with a few tools.
(Scottish accent) Don't do anything stupid.
(Freddie) Like wasting time with you?
Remember the last time we went through this?
That put a smile on your face.
Leather seats, sir? You should open the windows.
Freddie, come on, it's not my taxi.
lt's not my fucking taxi, you bastard.
What you fucking looking at?
(Shouts )
Freddie, don't fucking do it, you bastard.
(Rants and raves )
(Man) What is it with you cockneys?
There you go.
l've got a bloke's name to look at that for you.
Let's see that money.
By tomorrow.
(Clattering)
- Come on! - Freddie!
You cunt!
No, no!
Get back to work, you lazy cunt.
Let's get this car back on the road.
Let's do it.
(Ranting)
(Screams )
Giggler, you stay lucky.
(Giggler) Help me!
- You all right? - Yeah.
(Giggler wails )
Nice. Very nice.
Creative.
l like that.
Deserves a drink. What you having?
(Train passes overhead)
(Bawdy chatter)
ls it on?
Here we go.
(Music starts )
Go on, Freddie!
# l have a band of men... #
My old woman loves this one.
Pity she ain't here.
# They come from miles around
# To hear them play a melody
# Beneath the stars... #
Good for the fucking carpet.
# Play a song for you
# And if you wanna go on
(Singing along) # This is what you do... #
All together now...
# Dance, dance, dance, to my ten guitars
'lf we 'ad a good day - well, we always did -
'we'd end up at Fat Charlie's.
'The whole gang of us.
'There was Mad John. He was really mad.
'Billy not-so-smart.
'Roland, always with two birds.
'Derek, one would do for him.'
# Dance, dance, dance... #
'Eddie, poor little Eddie.
'And Tommy, Freddie's old house pet.
'Happy as fucking monkeys in a cage.
'Shag pile and Babycham. No ambition.
'Not like Freddie.
'Not like me.'
(Phone rings )
Yeah? Shut up.
(Singing along)
Turn that fucking music off.
# Oh, let me tell you now... #
Eddie, turn it off.
(Music stops )
(All complain)
Turn the music up.
Turn the music on.
- He's on the phone. - Turn the bloody music on.
Right.
Turn the music on.
- Boys, get in the car. - What?
Club's on fire.
- Club's on fire. - See you later.
Fuckin' hell. Come on, Derek.
Let's get a move on.
- Derek, come on. - All right.
(Laughs )
(Car horns honk)
How long you been 'ere?
Just got here.
- Seen anyone? - No.
No one on the door?
(Freddie) Supposed to be Joe. Didn't turn up.
- Everyone get out? - Yeah.
(Coughing)
Tell him.
(Sobs )
l'm sorry, Freddie.
What'll he do - take it out your wages? Tell him.
(Sobs )
Two of 'em. Table six.
Ordered Champagne. Didn't eat nothing.
Couple o' minutes after they left - whoosh.
Lennie Taylor.
Regulars?
lt was an oversight. She's obviously paid for it.
All right, angel, try and describe 'em.
(Woman sobs )
What the hell's he up to?
(Tyres screech)
'Lennie Taylor's goons.
'Torchin' our club.
'Lennie Taylor, you cunt.
'Think you're better than Freddie Mays?
'Lennie fucking Taylor. You little piece of dead meat.'
(Freddie) Pea-brained little fuck!
What did l say? What did l fucking say?
Right out in the open.
What did l tell you?
What do you go and do?
lt was him.
You shut your fuckin' mouth!
'What was l supposed to do?
'He started the fire.
'He shot at me.'
(Groans )
'Being flash and a coon,
'Roland had to be different.
'Goes in with the shaft. Bends the fucking thing.
'l tell a lie.
'Breaks the fucking thing. Bish bosh.
'Mad John's doing his feet. Meticulous attention to detail.
'Billy's doing his ribs.'
(Thud of clubs )
'Stone age xylophone.'
He'll be all right.
All right?
All right?! He's in traction for nine months.
Might need a fucking wheelchair. Plastic surgeon. All right?!
lt is not all right, it is all fucking wrong, morons.
'Saw him about a year later.
'Some scarring, bit of a limp, seemed all right.
'He bought me a drink. What can l say?
'He misbehaved - got punished.'
(Shouts )
Fuck!
'The looks when we brought the clubs back!'
Remember what l said -
this is a delicate matter.
What do you do? You give the cunt a handicap.
(Sniggers )
Fucking grief you've caused me.
Fuck what Freddie says! ls that it?
ls it? There's the chair, who wants it?
There it is. Who wants it?
Come on, who wants it?
(Sighs )
No.
You ain't got the bollocks. None of you.
And you, you cunt!
Striding down the road like John Wayne
looking for a fucking bullet in your brain.
Arsehole!
(Sighs )
Right.
Now l've got to speak to that shit Lennie Taylor.
Sit down.
You. You're coming with me.
- What, now? - Yes. Now.
Don't use it.
(Train goes past)
(Chattering)
(Train goes past)
(Music and chatter)
What you having?
- Whisky. - That's it.
- lt's on the house. - That's for you.
Fuckin' hell. Thanks.
(Door opens )
Well, well, well.
This is nice.
Hello, Freddie.
All right, Lennie.
- Long time, no see. - Yeah.
Bobby?
Take a walk.
(Coughs )
l went to see him today.
(Freddie) Yeah?
Hospital.
No. No, thanks.
Took him some flowers. You know... Some grapes.
Nice.
l should have took him some fucking Nesquik.
Cunt's got no teeth.
l thought me and you sorted out our problems long ago.
- Oh, did you? - Yes, l fucking did!
What's this about, then?
Why are you here?
Why do you think?
You wanna go to war with me? That what this is about?
'Oi, look at me.
'Oi, camel-cunt look at me.
'Look into my fucking eyes.'
..like fucking Fry's Turkish fucking Delight!
Come on, me and you, outside.
On the fucking cobbles. We'll have a strainer.
Sort this for good. Who's who and what's what.
What? You scared? You scared?
Lennie,
why don't you just sit down?
Sit down?
Sit down?!
Come in my club and tell me to sit down?
You fucking long-streak of fucking piss!
Lennie, don't fuck around.
My place was petrol-bombed.
- Oh. - Oh.
lt's about that?
Four thousand, it cost me. Four...
- Four fuck... - ..thousand.
(Sniggers )
Oh, Freddie, Freddie, Freddie.
When l heard about that...
l couldn't have been more surprised. l was...
l was gutted.
l hope you ain't insinuating
that that 'ad anything to do with me.
Cos that'd be wrong.
My conscience is clear.
'Look at me.
'Look into my fucking eyes.'
lf l wanted to,
l'd fucking come after YOU.
l'd fucking... Maxie. Maxie, Maxie.
(Tuts )
'Oh, dear, Maxie.
'Just you wait, son.
'That's nothing compared to what happened to Lennie.'
(Gunshot)
He's a good boy, though.
Ain't scared, is he?
(Tuts )
All right.
Let's say he did work for me -
did.
That's not to say l gave the order.
Let's just say,
for the sake of argument,
someone's come in your club,
with a lighted cigarette.
They've dropped it in a bin,
and the subsequent fire's ensued.
And let's say for the same sake of argument,
my man slipped in the showers.
Someone's dropped a fucking taxi on his head.
These things 'appen.
'Ow does that sound?
Sounds about right?
Yeah. Sounds about right.
(Chants )
(Cackles )
Come 'ere, come 'ere.
Hey?
B-B-Bobby, bubbly.
Let's have a nice drink.
(Laugh)
Fucking warm champagne.
Fucking prick.
Listen, you wanna go and get a proper drink?
Yeah, go on.
Right.
'He had on that grey two-piece mohair.
'That was a great suit.
'lmmaculate cut. ltalian.
'Always with a white shirt.
'Always.
'His ruby cuff links - l loved 'em.
'l fucking loved them.
'Beautiful watch.
'Wafer thin, solid gold.
'Hardly know you've got it on.
'Bond Street, two and a half grand.'
You like this tie pin, don't you?
'Ere.
'Ave it.
(Dancing music)
# For years
# You were out of my life
# Don't want to fall for you
# Cos you're the hurting kind
# Need you by my side to keep me satisfied
# l need your love, that's all l'm thinking of
# But l don't want you
# Cos you're the hurting kind
Hi. Sorry l'm late. lt's pissing down.
Fuck it. Don't worry about it.
Mel went on for you.
l bet she's really pissed off with me.
Livid. Called you everything.
''Fucking new girl. Comes in late.
''Second day. Bleeding tart.
''l'm earning her fucking money for her.''
l'm joking. l'm not serious.
l'm making it up. She don't care.
What's your name again?
Karen.
We drinking wine?
Yeah, why?
Bit suspect, innit?
Good for the blood.
# You're the hurting kind #
Freddie Mays is in.
- On his own? - No, with a mate.
Who's Freddie Mays?
Table two, but he's mine.
Only he don't know that yet.
Right. Let's eat.
Chateaubriand, asparagus, potatoes gratin.
Bollocks.
(Freddie) No dessert. Black coffee. Espresso.
lt's called espresso.
Might order a cigar after, Cuban.
See what you make of that. Blow your mind.
- You reckon? - Yeah.
l've organised some company.
What do you mean?
You know, couple o' blokes on our own,
drinking wine - bit suspect, innit?
Mel and you. What's your name?
Karen.
l want you to keep Freddie Mays and his goon company.
You didn't mention nothing about that in the ad.
You don't have to suck him off - keep him company.
He's clean, he's well-mannered and rich.
lf you like him, you can marry the cunt.
Count yourself lucky, girl. He's a nice guy.
Not like most of 'em 'ere.
Mel, l've told you -
don't bad-mouth the club.
This is a class emporium.
- Where you going? - Going to the bog.
Table two, Karen. l'll be over in a minute.
Mind if l sit down?
Suit yourself.
l was told you were well-mannered,
Mr Freddie Mays.
What makes you think l'm Freddie Mays?
Woman's intuition.
l heard you're quite the gentleman.
Did you now?
Yeah. And rich.
So you're a fucking gold-digger, then?
No, l'm not a fucking gold-digger,
l'm a normal working girl.
So, you're a hooker.
Well, Freddie Mays doesn't pay for it.
And l don't sit around in clubs taking shit from gangsters.
So much for the gentleman crap.
l suppose they have to talk you up.
Karen, l want you to meet Freddie Mays.
Hello.
Hello, Mr Mays.
You are?
Why don't you treat my friend to a dance?
Fuck off. You're having a laugh.
Sorry about the manners. Come on.
Come on. lt don't bite.
Please, sit down.
(Freddie) Sorry about that.
Who is he?
Just a...business associate.
(Words drowned by music)
- Yeah. - 'Ere, let me do that.
Thank you.
Sorry, do you want one?
No, thank you.
l have to look after my voice.
What's that - you an actress?
- No. - Could be. Face like that.
Thank you.
- Appreciate it. - Don't mention it.
- No, l sing. - You sing?
What, 'ere?
No, l dance here.
'Jane, June, Jackie.
'Jessica, Julie - she got bumped pretty sharpish.
'That's the ''J''s.
'On to ''K''. ''K'' for Karen.
'Freddie Mays and all his skinny birds.
'Oh, dear, Freddie. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.'
Sing something, then.
(Laughs )
Get up and sing something.
Get up and sing? l thought you meant at the table.
- No. - For you.
l mean get up on the stage.
Yeah, right.
Any requests, Mr Mays?
Freddie, Freddie. Go on, l'm serious.
l don't think the management would approve.
Don't worry about the management.
l was talking to the girls backstage.
Yeah?
Said you was a bit of an animal.
Really? Oh, did they?
(Freddie) Which bit?
(Giggles )
(Freddie) Did they specify?
Don't change the subject. Hang on.
- What? - Hang on. Move.
'Just another bird.
'Just another skinny fucking bird.'
(Karen) Good evening, everyone. This is for Mr Mays.
Freddie.
- Freddie? - Shut up.
- You like her, then? - l said shut it.
# lt seems life has played a game on me
# l'm lost in a sea of misery
# My love has turned his back on me
# Heartache, why won't you let me be?
# Baby, have some mercy
# Please don't make me
# Beg on bended knees
# Oh, please
# Have mercy on me... #
'And you, Mr Freddie Mays...
'You had to go swimming in her eyes,
'dancing in her hair.
'You had to slip into her mouth,
'slide over her tongue,
'fall down her throat,
'deep down into her belly,
'right into her blood.
'You had to fall asleep,
'wrapped around her beautiful beating heart.'
# Have mercy on me #
'Six months later, we're in the Zephyr.
'Me and Roland.
'Going past the Double Six.'
(Gangster) Hold up. Park up along here.
'Roland's pulled over.'
Ain't that Lennie Taylor?
Yeah. Who that with him?
- lt ain't. - lt can't be.
lt is. lt fucking well is.
That's Eddie Miller.
'Eddie? Eddie Miller talking to Lennie Taylor.
'What would Lennie Taylor
'want with a little shit like Eddie Miller?
'Poor little Eddie.
'Run, rabbit, run.'
Can't believe it. l just can't believe it.
Dirty little red-neck Judas.
(Continues incomprehensibly)
(Gangster) Do you know something, Roland?
l've never understood one fucking work you've said to me.
So shut up. Let me deal with this.
Sheila?
(Knock at door)
Who is it?
lt's the big bad wolf.
Oh. lt's you.
l was...just making some sweet tea.
Would you like a cup?
Fuck me. Hello, Roland.
Do you take sugar?
Sit down, Eddie.
- What...what's that? - That?
That's my favourite axe, Eddie.
Oh, gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
please bless all babies, make children safe at night.
Eddie, look at me.
l can't.
Eddie, look at my fucking eyes.
Look at my fucking eyes.
(Eddie groans )
Get up. Come on.
lt's all right.
Sit down.
(Eddie heaving)
All right?
Shh! Shh! Now, listen.
Shh... Deep breaths.
What did Lennie Taylor want, Eddie?
Lennie?
(Wails )
What did Lennie Taylor want, Eddie?
l... l was having a light ale and minding my own business.
- You know me. - l don't.
Maxie picked me up. l didn't know what they wanted.
l'm just a fucking thief. That's got nothing to do with me.
You couldn't rob your own arsehole.
Freddie, he's a lovely man.
- Yeah. - He's been good to me.
As for his business, that's none of my business.
l was in the Prussia, minding my own business.
The place goes quiet. l hear my name.
''Eddie.'' Fuck, it's Maxie.
Maxie King, camel coat nutty.
You are so boring. Are you bored?
What's he want?
- (Gangster) You're boring. - Lennie Taylor wants to see me.
l've got see him. l can't not go.
What am l gonna do? Not go? Then what?
l'm squashed beside Maxie and this big bloke in this Rover.
No one saying nothing. Dead quiet.
Get on with it.
- They take me to this club. - The Double Six.
That's right. Fuck.
Look, Lennie was there.
He was asking questions about Freddie.
But l told him to fuck off.
- Did you? - Yeah.
l said, l'll have a drink,
but don't ask me questions about Freddie.
What sort of questions?
What sort of questions, Eddie?
l can't fucking remember.
l think you better try, son.
Lennie reckons Freddie's losing it.
- Does he? - Yeah. Love makes you fat.
Love makes you fat.
- Go on. - That's it.
lt's a lovely place, the Double Six.
lt's swanky.
Loads of crumpet. Lennie seemed half decent.
l can't remember what was said, but l know l didn't say nothing.
Look at me.
Look at my eyes.
(Tearful) l'm telling the truth.
Eddie,
look at my fucking eyes.
They're gonna do, Freddie.
Oh, fuck.
Friday, outside The Candelabra.
God. God, oh...
Look...listen, l've told you now.
You've gotta warn Freddie. You've gotta tell him.
Please, you gotta tell Freddie.
We'll go and tell him. We'll go and warn Freddie, eh?
l love that smell. Do you like that smell?
That kiddie smell.
lt's lovely. Kids, eh?
Be the fucking death of you.
Eddie, come here.
Shh, shh... Eddie.
(Sobs )
l want you to look at me.
- Eddie, look at me. - l can't.
- Look at me. - l can't.
l can't do it.
Look what you gone and done.
Look what a mess you've made.
(Eddie sniffs and sobs )
Look, l can't.
- l can't - Eddie.
- Put your hands down. - Fuck.
Look at me. That's all l'm asking.
That's it.
Not so difficult, was it?
(Breathless )
lt's all right.
Shh, shh, shh...
(Sighs )
All right.
Come on, Eddie.
(Sighs )
No, no. l'm telling you, Lennie Taylor...
'Driving up the Embankment,
'Roland's talking about going straight to tell Freddie.
'Freddie Mays. Freddie Mays...
'l know something you don't.'
(Rasping, controlled scream)
-You don't deal with them... - Pull over.
'Pull over, Roland. Puncture.'
Where's this puncture?
Felt like it was your side.
Don't see nothing.
(Mumbles threat)
l'm stroking your frizzy hair.
Fucking things!
Charlie, let me do that. You take the tea in. Come on.
Cheers, Charlie. Ta.
- All right, girl? - Yeah.
- You puttin' on weight? - Shut up.
l'll have one.
- 'Ere. - Cheers.
Ta.
Fuckin' headless, it said.
Fuckin' torso.
lmagine that.
John.
Karen, maybe you should wait in the car.
Oi.
Maybe you should go and wait in the car.
Take the short-cut through the window.
(Karen) He's just old-fashioned.
Don't think l wanna be here, anyway.
You wanna watch your mouth.
- Right, what were we saying? - lt's gotta be him.
Let's look at it.
We know a black body's been found
and one of ours is missing.
lt's Roland - he's been missing for five days.
Don't mean it's him.
What it means is if it is him,
it's them.
lt all adds up.
Fuckin' right it does. What are we waitin' for?
Let's go.
Hit 'em now.
We gotta get uglier, take the initiative.