# Once a native maiden and a stranger met
# Underneath a blue Tahitian moon
# The stars were in her eyes
# Gardenias in her hair
# And they vowed to care forever
# Then one lonely day the stranger sailed away
# With a parting kiss that came too soon
# And now the trade winds sigh
# When ships go sailing by... #
This country is at war with Germany.
# Once a native maiden and a stranger met
# Underneath a blue Tahitian moon
# The stars were in her eyes
# Gardenias in her hair #
Down here on the platform of Piccadilly Tube station
in the heart of London's West End....
Many are bombed out of their homes...
... today of the evacuation of London's schoolchildren.
... two attacks against London and Southeast England.
... 200 feet below ground, but they feel safe here.
# When ships go sailing by
# Underneath a blue Tahitian moon #
But you're not a coward. - I don't want to die.
And why should I? And if I don't, why should anyone else?
Yet, still, you wouldn't make peace now.
Not now. You wouldn't support that. You couldn't.
You've only got the one life, Anita. Just the one.
Dylan?
Is it?
Dylan Thomas. It is, isn't it?
Oh, my God.
- You might at least have lifted my veil! - Oh, my God. Still love me?
- Did I ever? - Lift the bloody veil, Vera.
Look at you.
Look at you. Not been called up?
Just because I haven't got a uniform. It's me that puts the heart in the nation.
Ammo factories, I sing in.
- Down the tubes right now. - I always loved your voice. Always.
- Amongst other things, I loved... - Don't you come it, Dylan Thomas!
- You haven't changed. - Course I have, thank God.
You can't. And don't. Not ever.
If you do, I won't let you.
I heard you on the radio.
Like going home, it was, your poems. Like going back.
- Where's the posh accent from? - You should've looked me up.
- Should I? - Mm.
If I can get all my friends to donate five bob each, this is the plan, see.
If I get them all to do that, I don't have to sell my soul writing bloody propaganda films.
- I can write my bloody poetry. - You'd have to join the army.
Grade Three sitting here before you, Vera.
Lungs raddled like a Sunday whore.
So... lend us five bob.
- I'll give you a snout, that's all you'll get. - Oh. Give us, then.
- Silver's for the lonely, Vera Bera. - Who says I'm lonely?
- Well, where's the man who'll give you gold? - That an offer, is it?
- It's always been shares with us. - You never had anything to share.
Yes, but if I did, if ever I did, you'd be the first.
There's no folks like home folks. And folks you've grown up with...
...they're the best of all.
- You win. - Goody.
Forever and always.
You won't, will you?
- Won't what, lovely? - Get lost again?
Ta, mate.
Hello, love!
I have longed to move away
From the hissing of the spent lie
And the old terrors' continual cry
Growing more terrible
As the day goes over the hill into the deep sea
I have longed to move away
From the repetition of salutes
For there are ghosts in the air
And ghostly echoes on paper
This is Dylan Thomas for the BBC Home Service.
- Hello, darling! - Where you going?
Tension, four hundredweight.
The commentary has to persuade women to join the balloon defences.
"Shaft a Jerry and maybe one of our boys will shaft you." That do you?
Your talents really are wasted here, Dylan.
We could have a drink if you like? After.
- Course we could. - I'm not a bloody dog, Dylan.
It's the brunette, isn't it?
I had a golden childhood, Anita. And here it is turning up all unexpected.
Now I can't look a golden childhood in the mouth, can I?
The commentary, please, Dylan.
Myselves
The grievers grieve among the street
Burned to tireless death
A child of a few hours
With its kneading mouth
Charred on the black breast of the grave
The mother dug
And its arms full of fires.
Spare us the bloody tragedy, man. I need something hopeful here.
The lion once known as Jehovah
- Oh... - Rose up and cocked its leg over
The lioness roared, Jehovah had scored
All over the living room sofa
Dylan, I require a commentary.
Dylan! Dylan!
Caitlin?
- You told me you couldn't live without me. - Where's our son?
Chopped up in little bits and packed with my knickers in the suitcase.
The police'll be chasing you.
- Don't pretend you want him here. - There's bombs!
It's nothing to do with bombs. You don't want him. So I didn't bring him.
I've never been a father before, Cat. It's not straightforward.
- Still the light of your life, am I? - In the New Forest, is he?
Why are you asking, Dullun? You know damn well our son's with my mother.
I love you, Cat.
Give us a fag, then.
I'm out of bleeding fags. Give my head a good scratch. Please?
Oh, lovely!
- Where are we living? - Nowhere.
- Ow! Velvet your bloody claws! - Scratch your own bloody head!
- Come here. - No.
Kiss me.
Excuse me. You dropped your handkerchief.
- No, I didn't. - Yes, you did. Right there.
It's not mine, sorry.
You're supposed to take the hankie, I'm supposed to introduce myself,
- buy you a drink. - I don't want a drink.
- Nice try, though. - I've never done this before.
No. You've just never been caught out before.
Hello, darling.
- Sod you, then! - Oh, dear. Picky, picky, picky.
- You're late. - I know. It's all her fault.
- Who's your friend? - Queen of Ireland,
love of my life, mother of my child, Caitlin Thomas.
Your wife, Dylan?
The one and only.
- He didn't mention... - Well, he wouldn't, would he?
You made that, didn't you?
I might like you.
Then again, I might not.
I'll await your decision, shall I?
I won't hold my breath, mind.
- Got a mansion we could share? - Yes. Two little homeless orphans.
- I've only got a room. - Bugger. Condemned to her sister's.
I'll be having that, sailor boy.
- Needn't let... - Small matter of a wife?
- Nothing should ever come between us. - Oh, God, Dylan.
Soul mates, we are, Vera. Always were.
- Don't. - Stop talking about me.
There's a phone in the hall where I stay. You know.
If you want me, he's got my number.
What does it mean when she smiles?
I don't know. Never did.
God help us. It's the Visigoths from Wales.
Your sister's here.
Back from strangling Germans, then, are you?
Left the other boys playing with their little pistols.
All ging-gang-gooley and yo-ho-ho.
That what you call poetry, is it?
Look, give us a bed and we'll stay out from under your feet.
# Maybe it's because I kissed you too much
# Maybe that is why my kiss means too little
# Maybe with a love so great and a love so small
# Maybe I'll be left with no love at all
# Maybe I'll be left with no love at all #
Sometimes I can nurse a single pint all night. But that's sometimes.
Thank you.
Oh, yeah! I thought it was hilarious.
I'll get them in. You pay, though, Vera, eh? Fair dos.
- Support the starving poet. - You are not a bloody poet, Dylan.
You write films about barrage sodding balloons for your living.
There is a war on.
You know, you're not the man I married.
I did cartwheels in a rubber corset in Peter Robinson's window when I was hungry.
You were never hungry. You've always had a man to feed you.
Demonstration purposes it was. Bet you can't beat that.
Bet I can't.
He's following me.
Don't you have all the luck!
Watch this.
- Causing chaos, my lovely. - What do you need knickers for?
Looking for a good time with a couple of showgirls?
Three more, please. Your drinks, chaps.
- Chief stag sees off the competition. - William Killick.
Vera Phillips. She's very pleased to meet you.
- Rums all round? - Mmm, goody!
Four rums, please.
- Do you do cartwheels? - On the seashore I might.
Ah. I'll take you there.
- You're busy, by the looks of you. - I could do with some sea air.
I'd like to sit on the beach with you.
Don't you know a brush-off when you get one?
Got any smokes?
I enjoyed your show.
- Did you? - Yes.
- Hey? - Hay's for horses.
Come for a gallop.
Used to call it busking, singing in the tube stations.
Coppers used to move you on.
I'll come again, if I may.
Free world.
Keeping those rums to yourself? We're in danger of breaking a thirst.
I don't melt at the sight of a uniform, that's all.
- Sod it. I don't like nosy parkers. - It was a civil question.
I could have said, "Are you after my husband?" But I didn't.
Heartache, that's what I see in a uniform.
I won't love someone just to have them die on me.
Who's talking about love? Don't you ever get lonely?
- My work's all I need. - I used to think I'd be a dancer.
Danced night and day.
I know, you're one of those.
No. No! God!
Not one of those, for God's sake! Not that I'm averse.
One of the ones that never got over her first love.
Course I am.
Didn't your mother teach you any manners?
- All I said... - You can walk on your own, I know.
Keep your hand on your ha'penny, that's what my mother taught me.
- I'm not touching you. - Well, don't look at me either.
Fine.
No, don't do that!
What have you got against me, Vera Phillips?
You might be dead tomorrow.
Live while you can, live all you can.
- I won't see you again. - Of course not.
I'd like my torch back.
Please.
Don't let the light out!
Light of your life.
Has to wipe its feet before it comes back in again.
No!
Cat! Cat!
Little dog needs the toilet.
Go bark somewhere else.
Come on, Catty.
Have you got a poem for me?
You still owe me for the last one.
I am not a sodding deposit box, Dylan.
What do you think this is?
- It could be a scribble! - Could be.
- It could be a bloody limerick, Dullun! - Could be.
Among Those Killed In The Dawn Raid Was A Man Aged A Hundred.
- Happy piece, is it? - Do you want to hear it?
Do you?
Do you want to hear it?
Oh, heavy!
When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died
The locks yawned loose as a blast blew them wide
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement...
- Lived. - What?
Lived.
Oh, no, it's loved.
You can't read your own bloody writing. Lived! Lived!
- Loved! - He's a hundred sodding years old!
He can't remember love.
The bloody word's only there because I wrote it!
Dropped where he loved
- on the burst pavement stone - Shh!
It's mine, isn't it?
What you write.
All my words.
And every heartbeat.
They're all for you.
Me?
Come here, then.
Come on, you!
Get out of bed and come and see what he's done this time!
Oh, dear. Naughty doggy Dylan.
Do you know what that is?
That's animal behaviour, that's what it is.
Nicolette, I'm...
I'm...
Is Vera Phillips there, please?
- Just a moment. - Thank you.
- Hello? - Hello, darling.
- Dylan? - Course it is.
There was a young hero called Killick
Who marched to the top of a... hillick
He stood legs astride and whipped out his pride
And spread Brylcreem all over his fillick
What's a fillick?
- Showing your ignorance now, Cat. - William's will be nice, whatever it is.
Not that you're seeing him again.
- He'll still have a nice one. - Come here, Vera Bera.
Come on. Come and have a cuddle.
Go on, you're welcome to it. I don't want him.
Don't change, Vera Bera.
You're the star in my dark sky. Don't you ever change.
- What am I in your sky? - You're on my earth, Caitlin.
Just where I want you to be. Come on.
Come and have a cuddle.
What are you laughing at? What?
What?
What is it?
What? What?
It's like living with children.
- Oh, God! - I'm going to the pub.
What's it like having a son?
Oh, exhausting.
I can't imagine it.
He's a whole world away from here.
Safe and sound.
You could die in an air raid.
- I'm not going to. - You might.
This is not how I would choose to seduce someone.
My firm intention is to live forever.
- Is that a promise? - Cross my heart.
You only think you're in love with the poet. You know that, don't you?
His name's Dylan. You can say Dylan, can't you?
- So, you admit you're in love with him? - Bloody lawyer, are you?
I'm not saying I'm the better man, but I'm not married, Vera.
And you'll admit that gives me an advantage.
I'll admit nothing.
On the grounds that it may incriminate you?
You're trying to provoke me, aren't you?
First love's all right as far as it goes.
Last love, that's what I'm interested in.
Oh, you think you're so damn wise.
- What do you want, Vera? - Oh...
the moon from out of the skies, the stars in all their glitter.
What else?
It makes you know you're alive, wanting. That's what I think.
Oh, I'm alive all right.
Every last bit of me.
Oh! Stay there.
- Right, stay still. - All right!
Still!
- I'm as good as he is. - Good as who is?
Dylan. The bugger.
He thinks that I am put on this earth to nurture his talent.
Cook for him, have his children, clean for him. That's all I'm here for.
Who's nurturing my bloody talent?
- Will William nurture your talent? - I'll nurture my own.
Cut off his trigger finger, that's what I'd do.
I would, I'd come up quietly in the night
and I'd tie him down and I'd... maim him.
Look at us. How do they live up to us?
They don't, dirty tarts!
- My brother died for the likes of you! - I didn't bloody ask him to, did I?
Bleeding conchie! Lick my bleeding boot!
Welsh seamen. You can smell them a mile off.
- I ain't got no quarrel with you! - Damn right!
What are you protecting him for? Scum, he is!
Get back to your drinking. Now. Go on.
He's right, you know. Contamination, that's what I am.
I'd stay well clear.
No, no, no. I'm just gonna stay down here a moment. Just... just a little moment.
- You're lying in piss, Dylan. - I've had worse beds.
I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of you.
Well, see you don't, then.
You bloody warriors.
You're a bunch of buggering yes men. You don't even know what you're fighting for.
- To live without fear, me and mine. - Ta.
Oh, God!
Terrified, I am, of not... not doing.
War, see, it's useful. It gives the terror a focus.
Is she in there? Vera?
All you heroes, you think the women just fall at your feet at the sight of you, don't you?
You think they don't?
Of course, if I could be born again, I'd have a word with God.
"Make me a hero", I'd say. This way is far too much bloody hard work.
- Come on. - What, go on living?
I've a cure for funk.
- Death, that's the only cure. - Double?
You offering?
# There was a young poet called Dylan
# Who swore that he never would kill 'em
# When called by his country to serve at the front
# He said he would rather make...
# Fillums! #
Possessed by the skies
And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars
Touch her and I'll kill you.
Caitlin's territory, is she?
Caitlin's friend.
# Hang out the stars in Indiana
# Up in the sky of midnight blue
# Hang out the stars in Indiana
# To light my way back home to you #
Here.
- I can buy my own drink. - Just take the bloody thing.
# A melody just meant for two #
- Care to dance? - I'd love to, thank you.
Don't worry, they won't get us down here.
# How could I find in things I sought for?
# No wonder they were all denied
# The very happiness I fought for #
- My round. - Don't be childish.
- Gin drinkers, are they, the children you know? - Dance. Come on.
I'm an independent woman. I can buy a round if I want to.
- And a fight, you can have that too. - All right, then.
After a dance.
# Hang out the stars in Indiana
# To light my way back home to you #
- I won't always do as you say. - Thank you for the warning.
- I won't. - Just dance.
Where are you? Mary?
Come on!
- This way. - I need help over here, now.
Vera! Vera. Vera, you can leave her now.
- No, the pavement's wet! - No, she won't feel it.
Hmm? Leave her now.
Come on. It's all right. It's all right.
It's all right.
Come on. It's all right. It's all right.
# Have every robin sing a love song
# A melody just made for two
# For in my heart there'll be a love song
# A song I long to sing to you #
I bet you lay this on the ground.
- Why would I do that? - For all the girls.
You won't get me on...
Those people, William.
- Shh. - All those people.
You've got a raindrop running down down your cheek.
Just like a tear.
Make love to me.
No harm will ever come to you.
Not from me. Not from anyone else.
Not while I'm here.
No word of mine will ever hurt you.
That sounds like a vow.
A stranger has come
To share my room in the house
A stranger has come
To share my room in the house
Not right in the head
A girl mad as birds
She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall
Possessed by the skies
And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
I may, without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars
I don't like it, Dylan.
I've another couple of lines in my head I'm not sure where to put.
- It's not finished, then? - No, strictly speaking.
Don't write poems for me any more?
It's just a phase.
Come here.
Bring that body back to me.
- Oh. - Now...
Shh!
- It's a marriage licence. - Special one.
- No. - What?
You can't make me. What if I can't love you?
- I've been posted, Vera. - Well, that's a hell of a proposal.
I... love... you.
I am not marrying you.
- No. You don't make the decisions any more. - No.
- Say it. Say it. - Uh-uh. No.
- Say, "I'll marry you." - No.
Say it. Say yes. Say yes. Yes!
- Yes! Say yes! - Yes!
- Say yes! - Oh, for God's sake, say yes!
My first was Augustus John.
Seduced me when I was 15, the old goat.
It doesn't mean anything, fucking. It's not love.
I get an itch, it's gotta be scratched.
I'd do it myself, only I'm too lazy.
Why bother, when you can get someone else to do it for you?
- Nothing to do with love, fucking? - Uh-uh. Nothing.
- Who was your first? - What?
You don't need to tell me. I know it was Dylan.
We were kids. Tents piled in a beach hut.
- Nice and comfy, then. - We were children, still innocent.
We are still innocent, me and Dylan.
I only want it as a memory. I don't want it back.
Does William know?
Don't ever tell him. I can forgive the past, he won't.
The past I can forgive.
You warning me?
- You love William, don't you? - You have to love someone these days.
You sure you want to marry him?
I've never had a best friend before. Here. See if I look like a mermaid?
We've a couple of cleaners who'd be pleased to act as witnesses.
They'll be here, they will.
I'm sorry, we've got couples queuing up.
Sorry!
- About bloody time. - See?
- Look. Bend down, can't you? - Three guineas that cost.
How many words is that for a few feathers and a piece of cloth?
- Where did you get three guineas? - He wrote a cheque. It'll bounce, of course.
You look beautiful! Tell her she looks beautiful.
She is beautiful. Come on. Let's get married.
- It was Dylan's idea. He chose it. - You always did have hats.
Would you mind awfully?
I'm terribly sorry. Purely for old times' sake.
- Sorry, old chap. - Call of duty.
Carry on, Sergeant.
Oh, treat me right, can't you?
Oh, no, no! I want to give a toast.
I'll squeeze the life out of you.
- Yes, after the toast. - Go on!
You're killing me.
Oh, go on, you great Welsh bastard, or I'll break you in two!
To all the things that really matter.
- And bugger the ones that don't. - Hear, hear.
- Can you please get down? - Sing, and I might.
- Oh, God. - Sing, Dullun!
# Myfanwy boed yr holl o'th fywyd
# Dan heulwen disglair canol dydd
# Boed i rosyn gwridog iechyd
# I ddawnsio ganmlwydd ar dy rudd #
It's that old heiryth,
that old Welsh thing they're always banging on about.
He hates the bloody place, doesn't he?
Who doesn't?
But all he wants, see, he wants back there.
She's no different.
No, you'll never come between them, not with them being Welsh together.
- Why should I come between them? - Course, you've always got me.
Perfect.
"For old times' sake." That's what he said.
- No harm will ever come to you. - He'll always be my friend.
No word of mine will ever hurt you. - I can still have friends.
You're crying.
Dreaming, that's all.
- You're shaking. - It'll pass.
You'll come back to me. I know you will.
Tell me the truth.
You're hurting me.
I want everything to be open between us.
- And fresh and clean. - Stop it.
You and your friend.
Tell me.
We were kids, William.
We were on a beach and it happened, once. That's all.
William.
Tell me you love me.
Come back alive and I'll say it.
Come back to me, I'll say anything you want.
And mean it?
Come back and see.
# Drifting and dreaming
# While shadows fall
# Softly at twilight
# I hear you call
# Love's old sweet story
# Told with your eyes
# Drifting and dreaming
# Sweet paradise #
- Sergeant, get these men off the aircraft, now! - Everybody off the plane!
"Of course you told me because I asked.
"I should have bitten out my tongue.
"You're all I love. You're all my need.
"You're what I see in front of me.
" And if I look over my shoulder, there...
"There, I can see your smile.
" All honour I would give up for you.
"I could accept defeat if you were by my side."
Vera.
- Do you want me to hold your head? - Christ, no!
Now you'll get fat and Dylan won't love you any more.
You're a bitch.
It's the past Dylan loves.
And you.
Doesn't love me at all.
When's William get back?
I keep writing. No word.
Think he's dead?
I'm still getting his pay.
Army wouldn't pay a dead man.
You'll have to stop singing.
I'll sing if I want.
They won't let you.
Not pregnant, they won't.
Oh, I can't do this. I can't.
A mother, me? Look at me.
Well, get rid of it, then.
- It's William's. - Ah.
You love him.
I hate him. Oh, God, I hate him so much.
Look what he's done to me.
Don't laugh. Don't damn well laugh!
- I can't do this alone. I can't. - I'm here, aren't I?
- Let's go home, Caitlin. - I don't have a home.
- Wales, Caitlin. - Are you insane, woman?
- I've got money. - What, William's pay?
I've savings. Of course I have.
Hold him! Bloody hold him!
- The whole town will hear you! - Shut your damn mouth!
- You see this here? - Yes.
Give it here.
- Don't let go! - It's only a baby.
You scream if you want to, Vera. You hear me?
"Please write to me."
"They tell us what to write to our boys, so we keep your morale up.
"It's our duty. Damn duty, I say. I'm no heroine, you see.
"I'm fed up to the back teeth of being on my own. It's not what I married you for.
"Come home.
"I've got something I might want to say to you. Remember?
"You do remember, don't you?
"Come home. I want to touch you.
"Where the rain fell on your skin.
"Damn you for making me feel this way.
"Damn you to hell and back.
" And back, William.
"And back."
Down. Down!
Man down!
No, sir.
Forgive us
Forgive us your death that myselves the believers
May hold it in a great flood
Till the blood shall spurt
And the dust shall sing like a bird
As the grains blow, as your death grows, through our heart
Crying
Your dying
Cry
Child beyond cockcrow by the fire-dwarfed
Street we chant the flying sea
In the body bereft
Come on. Sleep tight.
- I'm hungry. - Shh.
Baby is sleeping.
It's bloody freezing! Bloody Wales!
When I was little, my da always used to warm me like this.
- You loved him? - Adored him.
- I hated mine. - You didn't hate him. Not hate.
He was loathsome.
Pity you're not a man. If you were a man, I'd fancy you.
Don't think I didn't know you were there.
- I didn't. - I could smell him.
Come here, Dylan. Let Vera smell you, smell the woman on you.
- Stop it. - She thinks I should twiddle my thumbs while...
- What? What? - Don't wake the kids, Dylan.
So where are they, Caitlin, hm? Where are your little friends?
Come on, boys. Out you come. Feeding time.
Ow! She's killing me! Vera!
I will kill you! I will!
If I catch you at it again, I will!
Why don't you see to the kids, Caitlin? Go on.
- Why do you do it? - I don't do anything.
I do it, sleep with other women...
- Hello. - Morning.
...because I'm a poet, and a poet feeds off life.
What?
Pompous sod, aren't you?
I do it because she does it.
She always has. She can't help herself.
It doesn't mean anything to her.
You don't need William. You've got me.
Nothing but you and me with time on our hands
and each other to spend it with.
Hello, Daisy.
Come back with me. Come on.
I'll take you back to a time when we were safe.
Where no bombs fell from the sky and no one died, ever.
You can't go back.
We can.
You and me.
It's not real.
It is if we want it to be.
Pity about the poor bloody husband.
Off bleeding for his country and paying for the fun back home.
Don't mind if I join you, do you?
Room for a small one?
Ooh, wartime luxury.
You can drop me here.