(Engine splutters and dies)
(Lovejoy) Aargh!
(Engine splutters and dies)
But, if you haven't seen her for months, how can you be so sure she's not going to be there?
One of the things you learn if you've been married to a woman for 11 years
is whether or not she goes to parents' day. Susan doesn't.
But Vicky's your only child. Doesn't Susan care?
Oh, she cares. She's adamant.
Parents' day is the one day a year when you get to meet the teachers,
discuss academic prospects and plan for the future.
Susan thinks Vicky's smart enough to handle the staff on her own.
That's why she never goes. Well, so do I. That's why I always go.
Will Vicky want me there?
Course she wants you there! She adores you!
Oh, all right. I'll go. But I'm not wearing the tiara.
I'll see you tomorrow, Lovejoy.
(Bell rings, door closes)
Brains, beauty and a working car. What more does a person need?
- Fine arts. - Eh?
That's what you need. We should be dealing with more classy stuff.
- More arts. - You don't know your arts from your elbow.
Yeah, ell I'm doing a course, aren't I?
Well, it's more a creative workshop actually. A self-stimulating community of artists.
- I'm gonna open the door to my inner self. - No, you're not. You're gonna get me a drink.
- Mr. Lovejoy? - Yes?
I'd like you to sell some prints for me.
- Some Fuselis. - Fuselis?
- (Whispers) I'll have the drink now, Eric. - Eh?
This is a bound folio of original prints.
Looks genuine. Quite a find for a teenager, Miss?
How much are they worth? Can you value them?
Aren't you gonna take a look?
(Gasps) We can't sell these!
But they must be worth thousands.
After the Marquis de Sade, Fuseli was the greatest pornographer of the 18th century!
- Doesn't he know that? - Well, he's more of an inner-self man.
Pornography's a closed door to me. I don't see the point in peeking through the keyhole.
It's just a bare room. What you see is dull and obvious.
It's all sex, but with all the passion and intensity locked out.
This is not pornography.
A man's whole being went into this. No two hairs are the same.
No two skins have the same texture.
He never uses the same light, color, gesture, shadow, movement.
Instead of locking out our senses, he draws them in.
Warmth, touch, emotion, passion.
Look at Fuseli. Door's open.
Can you sell them?
A young woman arrives on my doorstep with an armful of priceless erotica.
Course I can sell 'em when I get over the shock.
How long will that take?
Ooh, a couple of days on Valiums and I'll get back to you.
- I take it you're not the owner? - What?
- Who are you working for? - Oh.
I, um... I can't say.
I don't blame you. If I was them, I wouldn't want to shout about it either.
If I need to get in touch with you, where will I phone you?
I'll phone you.
- No car. - How did you get here?
- On the train. - At least you had something to read.
(Chatter and laughter)
(Cheering)
(Applause)
Where the hell has Vicky got to now?
She's just popped to the refreshment tent.
This is the refreshment tent!
- This is the third from arts and crafts. - They've got Pimm's.
Why else would anyone come to third form arts and crafts?
(Woman) Excuse me! Excuse me.
- You're obscuring Lavinia's still life. - Oh! Excuse me. Excuse me, girls.
- (Lavinia) That's my painting. - Oh, is it? It's charming. Delightful.
- Well done, Lavinia. - Thank you.
You total creep. I bet you were head girl in your day, weren't you?
Of course.
- (Girl) Mum! - Darling!
- Where are we going? - Refreshment tent.
Sweetheart, I've just been to the refreshment tent!
You stranded me there with Mrs. Harrington-Morse half an hour ago.
- I thought you wanted to meet them! - I wanted to meet him.
He's an important client.
I don't understand it. The man manufactures sofabeds, why did he have to marry one?
- Mum! - Well, it's your holiday.
But all the champagne and Jacuzzis in the world wouldn't entice me into Homestead Mansions.
Mum, there's something I haven't told you.
- Dad's here. - Darling, why didn't you tell me?
- What a lovely surprise! - Well, I wouldn't bank on it.
He's brought someone with him because he didn't expect you to be here either.
Clearly! Oh, I'm sorry, darling. Is she embarrassingly young?
See for yourself.
(Susan) Lovejoy!
Susie! You look wonderful. What are you doing here?
- I was Vicky's surprise. - I must be yours.
Jane, Susan, my mother. Mum, Lady Jane Felsham.
- Lovejoy's... - Landlady.
- I don't believe it. - I beg your pardon?
Mr. Harrington-Morse! We meet again. How nice.
As I was saying, I want to get into your bedroom, Susan.
I want to get into everybody's bedroom
and replace that six-foot-by-four-foot piece of clutter with a Homestead sofabed.
"Pull me up a put-you-up and pick me up!" Our slogan. What do you think?
Mr. Harrington-Morse is chief executive of Homestead, the sofabed company.
Mr. And Mrs. Harrington-Morse, this is Lovejoy...
- Mr. Lovejoy. ...my husband. Ex-husband.
- And Lady Jane Felsham, Lovejoy's... - How do you do?
Landlady.
- What do you do, Lovejoy? - Six months in the nick as a rule.
Really? What do you sleep on?
(Woman) Pass me some lemon, please, Sonia. (Girl) There you go.
Now I definitely need a Pimm's.
With a man like that you don't need a bed to fall asleep,
you're nodding off after the first sentence!
Excuse me. Sorry. Thank you.
What on earth made you say that about prison?
- It's true, isn't it? - Well, of course it's true.
If it wasn't true, I wouldn't want you to lie about it. Don't they teach you anything at this school?
- Enough. - Uh... a Pimm's, please.
Lovely, thank you.
(Pop music playing)
- Ah! - Ah!
Victoria's parents. How nice to meet you both... together.
I've been meaning to speak to you. There seems to be a mix-up over this term's school fees.
Your husband must have overlooked the payment, Mrs. Lovejoy.
- This isn't Mrs. Lovejoy. - Indeed?
Indeed. Jane, Miss Hemmingway. Miss Hemmingway, my landlady, Lady Felsham.
Oh, Lady Felsham. It's so good of you to take an interest in Vicky.
A nice child. Despite all the difficulties.
What line of business are you pursuing now, Mr. Lovejoy?
- The same. - I see.
Lovejoy and I work together.
Oh!
Are you in antiques, Lady Felsham? I've been looking for someone reliable for the library.
We're refurbishing. We have one or two fine collections.
The insurance company insists on a valuation.
I couldn't be an awful bore and trouble you for an opinion, could I?
Well, one of us really ought to wait here for Susan and Vicky,
but I'm sure Lovejoy would be delighted to give you a view.
- Oh. - Books, more his area.
Oh. Well...
Very well. Come along, Mr. Lovejoy.
What are you doing?
This is a golden opportunity to change her impression of you.
If you please, Mr. Lovejoy.
- You're ruining these books. - I beg your pardon?
A fine collection of Victorian theology displayed on these.
- These walnut cabinets? - Yes, but open to the air, humidity,
- constant temperature changes, varnish taint. - I see. And you would recommend what?
- Modern, hermetically-sealed shelving units. - Rather expensive, I fear.
Yes, but as a parent and for Badenside, I could always arrange a part exchange.
Yes, I'm sure you always could, Mr. Lovejoy.
But no.
Perhaps it's silly of me, but I really can't imagine the library without them.
- After all, they have been here since 1704. - Hm.
Now, as to the fees, school ends on Thursday,
- and I shall expect full payment. - (Door opens)
Khadija! What are you doing in there?
The Mistresses' Library is strictly out of bounds to girls.
I...
I was looking for the railway timetables. When I couldn't find them...
You're boarding here during the holidays, why would you want a timetable?
- Train spotting. - Don't be impertinent, Khadija.
- How did you get in? - The door was unlocked...
Nonsense. That door is never unlocked.
The contents are irreplaceable. Khadija, you will report to my study immediately.
(Locks door)
You must excuse me, Mr. Lovejoy.
- Go on, Mummy. I've made loads and loads. - Lovely, darling.
Ooh, Lavinia.
Oh, Vicky! Excuse me. Excuse me, ladies.
Jane, excuse me. Vicky...
Do you know a girl called Khadija?
Oh, yeah! You know Richie Subhani, the newspaper proprietor?
- She's his daughter. - Rich, eh?
Oh, stinking! Mum.
Father claims to be a devout Muslim. All his daughters come here.
Unlike you, he recognizes a good working medieval torture chamber when he sees one.
- Do you take sugar? - No, no I don't.
- Yeah. What do you make of her? - Well, the typical "Miss milk monitor" type.
- Straight and narrow, eh? - Oh, sticks to it like superglue.
Aisha, that's her older sister, used to be pretty wild, but she's left now.
Gone to Fairfax College in Cambridge. Why did you wanna know anyway?
Well, Miss Hemmingway and I just bumped into her coming out of the Mistresses' Library.
- What Khadija? - Yeah, Khadija.
Look, Mum. He's eating one. Go on!
(Indistinct)
Go on!
So what did Picasso use?
After his Blue Period, he tended to favor black.
- Ah! Braque, now I've heard of him. - No, black!
Braque turned to red, that's why they fell out.
Ah. And Cézanne tended to use more traditional materials.
Pastel colors and a felt tip.
- Mostly green. - Oh, I don't know about green.
It's a bit military.
- No, I think I'll stick to the black. - You're sure?
Yeah. If it's good enough for Picasso, it's good enough for me.
One felt tip... in black.
Yes!
(Laughs)
Cézanne, eh?
Cos I'm a bit of an impressionist myself, you know.
Chuck Berry. (Laughs)
Chuck...
Yeah, well, I'll take some of this goulash while I'm here as well. (Clears throat)
- Right. Till Thursday, then. - Thursday?
- I've arranged to meet Mr. And Mrs. Sofabed. - Ugh.
So that we can see Vicky off on her holiday.
- (Engine starts) - Don't worry.
I'll treat you to a light supper afterwards. We really ought to get together more often.
- Oh, Susan. - Lovejoy.
Thursday. I'll pick you up.
(Tannoy) Will the parent who has parked the Range Rover with the horse box
at the front gate, blocking it, please move it immediately.
- Where's the money? - I'm trying to get it! I think I've found a way!
Taking our time, aren't we lovey? Perhaps we'd better go and see Daddy after all.
- No, you mustn't! I'll get it, I promise. - I don't take promises.
- Just a few more days. - (Engine starts)
- Two more days, then it's bye-bye Bobby. - Bye-bye.
Who's Bobby?
You in some sort of trouble?
Khadija Subhani, I told you to report to my study immediately.
I've got to go.
This is disgusting. And she looked like such a nice girl.
Don't be so ready to condemn, Eric.
She's not the kind of girl who owns pornography.
- Isn't she? - Nah, she steals it.
Agh! Why don't you learn to drive?
Well, at least it goes.
Just wait here a moment if you wouldn't mind.
(Sighs)
Please go in.
I'm intrigued.
Tell me, Mr. Lovejoy. What made you think of me?
Instinct. Pure antiquarian instinct.
I see. Your instinct...
Your instinct told you this was a school possession.
A rare and valuable one.
What kind of parent imagines his daughter's exclusive public school collects pornography?
As for your instincts, I think the least said about them the better.
You mean the Fuselis don't belong to Badenside?
Certainly not.
And if that disappoints you, perhaps Vicky would be happier at a comprehensive.
Good day, Mr. Lovejoy.
- (Car horn) - (Tires screech)
- Naughty. - That's what Miss Hemmingway said.
(Laughs) I'm not surprised.
Fuseli has a very elongated style.
Do you think so? I always admired his realism.
- Realism? - Mm.
But... no two human beings can do that.
At least, not to each other.
Don't even think it.
- What are you going to do with them? - I'm gonna find out where they came from.
Well, the girl obviously didn't steal them from the school.
- Maybe they're a family heirloom. - (Sighs)
Cor! Dear me!
(Pop music and voices in background)
Can I come in, Khadija? Oh, that's nice. Is that what you're wearing to the wedding?
No!
Oh, um... Perhaps to the reception.
You know, it seems only yesterday that your sister was here.
This was Aisha's study as well.
Now she's getting married. To a Khan, no less.
Your father must be thrilled.
Yes.
The Khans are a very important Muslim family.
If there's anything you need, your father's made ample arrangements.
We could go shopping. If you need money...
No, I don't.
I thought that was why you'd stolen the Fuselis.
No. I didn't take the Fuselis because I needed money, I told you.
I wasn't going to sell them.
- I don't need money. - Well, you must have had a reason.
Why didn't you tell me?
Because you were so beastly to Aisha.
Khadija, is everything all right?
Yes.
I know you're very close to your sister.
Oh, I understand. You feel left out.
People do get married, you know.
You'll find that out for yourself sooner or later.
It doesn't mean that people forget about their friends and their family, it just means...
- You never liked Aisha, did you? - Well, of course I did. She was my pupil.
But she caused us a lot of anxiety running away like that.
Disappearing for a whole week for no good reason.
It was for a reason.
But it was her business, not yours.
Aisha was still a pupil, a pupil at my school.
That makes it my business and my responsibility.
As for the Fuselis, you're very lucky, Khadija.
As it happens, I don't want it made public.
I can't afford a scandal in my school.
So I've given them away.
As far as I'm concerned, that's the end of the matter. All right?
(Man) Hello, Lovejoy!
- Not your usual line. - No, I'm looking after them for a schoolgirl.
Oh, I understand. No names, no pack drill.
We'd better go through to the back.
Tidy... Very, very tidy, Lovejoy.
The only thing I ask is, please, don't tell me where you got them.
I already have. I wanna know where my client got them.
Yes, you can't be too careful, can you?
I don't know, though. It's very difficult to provenance quality.
- There's only one or two specialists, you see. - So who do they belong to?
If I knew that one, I'd have nicked them myself. How much do you want?
I don't want to sell them, I wanna know where they came from.
Well, a big collector. That's for certain.
Not one of mine, though.
- You could try the Shevandin collection. - Shevandin? That's tourist junk, isn't it?
It happens to be our annual do, Lovejoy.
You can leave this with me, if you like. (Laughing)
You don't want to be caught carrying around dodgy stuff, now, do you?
If there's a reward, Taffy, I'll need it myself.
- You're not paying rent at last, are you? - No. School fees.
(Sighs)
(Wind blowing)
(Bell)
Ah! The train spotter.
- I've brought some more prints. - Timetables?
No.
Fragonard, Daumier, Géricault and Raimondi.
- Do you know my daughter, Vicky? - Not very well. She's a year behind me.
Yeah, at least.
- Is this more porn? - Haven't you heard of Fragonard?
- He went to a comprehensive. - Oh.
Where did you get these from? You steal them from your father?
God, no. And I'm not a criminal if that's what you think.
Oh, no. You're just a run-of-the-mill sixth former.
Latin, French and a hundred grand's worth of antique erotica.
I'm not a little girl, either. Don't patronize me.
We must have a deal. I don't know where else to go.
I need a quick sale.
- How did you get here? - I came by train.
For such a train enthusiast, you don't know much about the Eastern Region do you?
- (Baaing) - We're a bit isolated here.
There's only two trains a day. One at 7:30 to bring the station master to work,
and one at five o'clock to take him home. Baaaaaaa!
Oh, nice books. Where do you steal 'em?
You!
You stupid little cow. You said you'd found a buyer!
He is. He's an antiques dealer.
- He's been in prison. - Get in the car.
No, wait.
- I don't like bullies. - My dear chap.
- I'm an old friend of the family. - Ooh!
What happened?
- (Car horn) - Ooh!
- What's going on? - Who was that maniac?
Get in.
- What's going on? - Just get in, Eric.
- (Eric) She almost killed me! - That would be some compensation!
(Susan) Miss Hemmingway phoned from Badenside.
Honestly, Lovejoy, I can understand you trying to strip the shelves from her library.
I can even understand the school fees being six months in arrears.
What on earth possessed you to offer the woman pornography?
- Well, there was this schoolgirl... - I've never been so embarrassed.
(Lovejoy sighs)
(Susan) She said perhaps you were confused over methods of payment.
They take cash, checks, standing orders, banker's drafts and covenants.
What they do not accept is 18th century porn on account.
- Where are we going? - (Lovejoy) To London.
If that maniac wants to sell those books, that's where he's got to go.
(Susan) What books? (Eric) The 18th century porn.
(Susan) Uh! Slow down, Lovejoy! You'll have us all in the ditch!
(Susan) You're really a liability.
- Eric, get us a taxi. - But, this is the auction room.
Do you wanna walk home, Eric? Get us a taxi!
But we're supposed to be saying goodbye to Vicky for the holiday.
I've arranged to meet the Harrington-Morses at the Savoy for tea!
Can't make it. I've got to find Khadija.
- I'm sorry. It's very important. - But so is Vicky.
- Here's our taxi. - Your taxi.
- My taxi? - Your taxi. I need the car Susan.
Eric, these are the auction rooms. Get out of the cab.
- Hey? - Out!
- Savoy, sir? - Lovejoy, that's not for two hours yet!
I've got to get my hair done. Although I'll go back to the office first.
Not the Savoy, Berwick Street. Harrington-Morse is one of my biggest clients!
Oh, my God! The market research. Fetters Lane!
Lovejoy, if my car isn't at the Savoy by 3p.m., I'll kill you!
And if you're not there, I'll never speak to you again.
And another thing!
- What made you get married, Lovejoy? - I talked her into it.
What about the car? It's on a yellow line.
- Well, you deal with it! - (Sighs)
Lot number 66.
Victorian, One Upturned Lady Having Fallen Off Bike.
Artist unknown, but a fine piece of craftsmanship. What am I bid?
Who'll start me on £100?
- Do I hear 120? - (Whispering) Hello, Sam.
- (Auctioneer) 120. Thank you. - Seen any Fuseli, Fragonard,
Daumier, Géricault?
- No, I haven't. - (Auctioneer)... with you madam.
Are you sure you're interested, dear boy? Rather beyond your pocket I would have thought.
- I'm not buying, Sam. I'm retrieving. - Ah! Cheaper.
Far more difficult. This is a somewhat secretive market.
Who are the major collectors?
Dear boy, were I able to name names, I would have retired on the wages of extortion.
Sensitive, you see. Dirty books.
Who's selling, Sam?
There is a frisson in the trade. Certain wealthy parties wait with bated breath.
Not, sadly, that they are of my personal acquaintance,
this job doesn't pay tremendously well.
- Please. - Shh.
Have some respect for the confidentiality of the saleroom.
(Auctioneer) 1900.
- 1900, thank you. - Welshman with a gun shop.
Taffy Griffiths.
(Auctioneer) 2,000. Do I hear 2,100?
I'm selling at 2,000.
This morning he was talking about a collection.
- A tidy one, by all accounts. - Oh.
Lot number 68, My Adonis.
Do I hear £50?
Good heavens.
Cor, look at that.
Thank you. Do I hear 55?
I'm selling. Going once, going twice...
(Bangs gavel) Sold for £50 to the gentleman in the beret.
Oh, Eric, what have you done?
(Eric sighs)
- Give me the keys, Eric. - I mean, what am I gonna do with this?
I dunno. You bought it, you must've liked it.
Well, I'll never be able to shift it round our way.
I mean, it's disgusting.
What's up?
(Door opens)
(Lovejoy) You're closing for lunch, Taffy.
Excuse me, please. Just one moment.
What the bloody hell is this?
This morning I was relieved of a very fine collection of antique erotica.
- Lovejoy... please! - And now you are flooding the market.
What the hell's going on, Taffy?
Lovejoy, I'm an honest trader, me.
Do you think I'd be stupid enough to mess around with stolen goods if I knew?
Well, what do you expect, a thief-by date?
Look, if I'd known they were your stolen goods,
believe me, man, I'd have been on the phone like a shot.
Taffy, Taffy, Taffy, Taffy. When it comes to sourcing pictures,
you know who wants 'em, who's got 'em and who'll drive the getaway car.
Look, I swear to you, man, I'm as embarrassed as you are.
I didn't even know they existed.
- Taffy. - Look, I can prove it you.
Garner, his name was, right, the man who brought the stuff in.
I've put him onto a buyer. I know where they're going to be meeting this afternoon.
Good.
(Thwack, man grunts)
Stay there till I come back.
I never had a headmistress like that.
No, she is rather special, isn't she?
Mind you, I prefer Miss Hemmingway.
She's the real thing, and she looks as if she could be really strict.
- Yes, well. - Pure fantasy, dear chap.
Still, it's my daughter's school, and she has asked me to become a parent governor,
- so you never know. - Good Lord.
Up there a couple of days ago. Breathtaking.
- Small world. - Pardon?
Have you, erm, made up your mind yet?
- Not sure. A bit fussy, aren't they? - Fussy?
Yeah, arty, can't see what's going on.
I thought you were a collector.
- 5,000. - They're worth six times that amount.
Of course, I'll need proof of ownership.
(Woman whooping)
5,000.
(Woman sighs contentedly)
(Eric) Well, that's Garner's car.
But it doesn't look like the kind of place you'd bring a load of hooky porn.
- Looks like my mum's. - It's suburbia, Eric.
It's the same everywhere.
Number 15's wife-swapped with number 12,
number 8's chopped up his dogs, got 'em in the freezer,
and number 29 here, he's got an amphetamine laboratory in his garage.
Oh, get off.
I mean, look at that bloke, he's just an accountant or something going home for his tea.
Probably doesn't even have a dog.
(Doorbell rings)
Look!
Eric!
(Engine starts, tires squeal)
- (Lovejoy) "Pick me up a put-you-up"! - Eh?
Pillow talk.
(Tires squeal)
Khadija!
Eric, no! The girl! Get the girl!
(Both laugh)
- I once had a crush on Bros. - Oh, you're joking.
I did. Must've lasted a whole month.
- Oh, I don't believe it. How could you? - I don't know.
- I was into The Cult myself. - They're great, aren't they?
My mum wouldn't let me have my ears pierced, though.
- Why not? - I don't know.
- My mum's got her ears pierced. - Has she?
- Is she into The Cult? - No. She's more a Motörhead freak.
(Both laugh)
- (Sighs) More champagne? - You sure?
Yes. Mum won't bother us.
She's got a Volvo full of jumble,
and she's going round all the houses for some poor unsuspecting cause.
And Dad takes hours and hours when he's on business.
- Oops. (Laughs) - So... what are the sights?
Well, this is the garden.
Yes.
And that's the gardener.
- Ooh. - (Laughs)
Who stole the books, Khadija? Was it you or Garner?
Where did they come from?
What do you need the money for?
That's my business. Where are we going?
You're gonna have to tell somebody something because you're making a pig's ear of this.
Why don't you leave me alone?
Because I've done two rounds with a car door and a suitcase
and because you might look like an innocent schoolgirl but you're a liar
- and a tout for a petty crook. - He's not a crook.
He's a chemist.
I see. Thank you, Matron.
You're going to have to come back later, Charlotte.
I'm just going to Khadija's room. If there are any calls, I'll be back in ten minutes.
(Indistinct)
Lovejoy?
(♪ Saxophone music playing on stereo)
Oh, hi, Dad.
- You're late for the Savoy. Mum was furious. - So was mine...
- Sorry about this, Vicky. - How embarrassing.
- Holidays are over, you're coming home. - Mr. Lovejoy, what is the meaning of this?
I'm taking my daughter out of this house. I only wish you could do the same thing.
Really? Well, if I'd known you were such a thug
I would never have let your daughter in my house in the first place.
I can see where she gets her sense of discipline from.
Well, you should see where your husband gets his.
Move over.
Get in.
Khadija.
- What are you up to? - I'm collecting schoolgirls.
If I carry on like this, I'll be able to open my own college.
Does Mum know you've still got her car?
That was it. Could you stop? Could you just stop here? Please, please, please.
Course, it's not the original. That's in the British Museum.
Yes, I heard they were building an extension.
Vicky!
It's Miss Hemmingway!
(Doorbell rings)
- Mr. Lovejoy. - (Tapping)
- Mr. Lovejoy? Mr... - (Tapping continues)
- What have you done with Khadija? - Isn't she supposed to be in your care?
You won't deny you've seen her?
No.
Victoria tells me you claim a passion for antiques.
My passion is Badenside school.
I would do anything to protect it.
That girl was placed in my trust.
She's Richie Subhani's daughter, for goodness' sake.
The newspaper owner, I know.
Her sister, Aisha, is about to marry Bobby Khan.
Richie Subhani craves the Khans' acceptance.
This is a dynastic marriage, Mr. Lovejoy.
Why did you lie to me about the folio? It's yours, isn't it?
Yes, you knew that Khadija had stolen it, but why didn't you do something about it then?
Of course the Fuselis were ours.
Ah.
Badenside was founded by Victorian England's foremost collector of pornographic literature.
I wasn't about to advertise the fact.
Especially to a rag-and-bone man.
Miss Hemmingway, those books you're so ashamed of
represent some of the great work of their time.
Those pictures have a power, a beauty and integrity
that would grace a cathedral, let alone a school.
Now, I'm not in the dirty mac brigade,
but I'd rather have a dirty mac round my shoulders than a plastic one around my mind.
I don't care about the books, I care about Khadija.
- I will not have a scandal! - You'd better see her, then.
She's here?
Little late to read the riot act.
Where's Khadija?
She's gone, she's taken Susan's car.
Mr. Lovejoy, if Khadija and the books aren't returned to school this afternoon
I'm going to the police.
And in any case, Victoria is expelled as of now.
Excuse me.
How could you let her take Susan's car?
I found Garner.
- Oh, Dad! You're so wonderful! - What?
Even Celia Finnigan couldn't get herself expelled.
Look.
(Eric) This is great training, this is. The fine art of breaking and entering.
We could get two years for this.
(Lovejoy) Just shut up, Eric.
Get off my foot and give me that torch.
What if he's waiting for us? He might be waiting for us with a shotgun.
Or a bucket of ammonia for our eyes. He's a chemist, he'll have ammonia, and sulphuric acid.
Turn that light on, Eric.
Oh.
That mad old bag. If she'd told us the books belonged to the school,
- we could've told her who had them days ago. - (Clang)
(Cat yowling, dog barking)
We don't even know the books are here.
They could be anywhere.
Take hours to search this place.
And at any moment he could walk through that door with a shotgun, a bucket of ammonia,
the police... Ohh!
What the hell are you doing? That's radioactive.
Eric, this is a small-town chemist, not Three Mile Island.
- Come on. - But what about the books?
- What books? - Lovejoy?
(Crashing)
- Janey. - Yeah?
How would you like buy an enormous collection of stolen pornography?
Why don't you ask Vicky? I'm sure she'd welcome the opportunity
to enhance the reputation of the school.
(Chuckles) It's her reputation I'm trying to salvage.
If I can get the books back to Badenside, maybe I can bring Miss Hemmingway around.
Without Khadija?
Oh, she's next. Look, we know Garner's got the books, we know he wants to sell 'em,
we've got to buy them, Janey.
How do you suggest we advertise?
In the Times? Lady Jane Felsham is at home to hot smut.
No, no, no, no, no. You can call this fence.
Mr. Taffy Griffiths.
You know, Melissa's never gonna forgive me for this.
We've been at that school for, what is it now, five years,
and the most exciting thing that has ever happened
was when Celia Finnigan punched the games mistress on the nose.
Oh, and Khadija's sister's going on the pill.
Now Khadija's running a porn racket and I've been expelled. It's terrific!
Oh, yeah, terrific. But Lovejoy's not gonna like it, is he?
He's a great believer in education.
That's why I'm with him, you know.
No, I quite like it round here.
I suppose I could go to school in London and live with Mum,
or I could live up here with Dad.
Only, what school would I go to?
Well, there's Clarke's College, that's a very good school.
You don't go to polytechnic from there, you go to Bristol or Oxford.
Strict discipline, you see.
- I see. Where did you go? - Well, I went to St. John's.
It was very rough. Teachers don't have any control, kids just mess about all the time.
And they're frightening, some of those lads.
Even today, I won't go near the place.
Big, mean blokes they are.
- It's mixed? - I should say so.
- (Clock chiming in distance) - Suits me fine.
Cripes, is that the time? Listen, I've got to go and get Lovejoy.
Yes, yes, yes, of course, I understand.
Now then, your husband's birthday, you said.
Man of the world, is he?
Oh, he's an aristocrat, then?
Well, we'll be looking for something pretty saucy, then, won't we?
A Daumier or a Fuseli or a Raimondi, perhaps.
Oh, yes, yes, yes, top of the range of course.
Pricey, you understand, but then...
if he just wanted Playmate you could just pop down the local paper shop, couldn't you?
Now, listen to me...
This is an obscene phone call I'm paying for, Lovejoy.
I'll kill you.
- Oh, tell him... - No, no, I was talking to the dog.
Tell him you want the complete works.
Yes, I would like the complete works.
Yes, yes, of course, I understand.
I apologize. The complete works.
- Er, ten o'clock tomorrow be all right? - (Jane) Yes, that's fine.
Just one more thing...
(Taffy talking, indistinct)
No, I think not.
What was that?
He said since he was dealing with aristocracy,
would it be appropriate to print "by appointment" on his letterheads?
(Laughs)
- Lovejoy. - Hello, Susan.
- You owe me an explanation. - I know.
- Er, what was the question? - Where's my bloody car?
Ah, now, that I don't know.
- Words fail me. - Do they?
On parents' day, you tried to steal the school bookshelves,
and then you offer the headmistress pornography.
Next, you stand us up at the Savoy for some smutty auction.
I thought that was as low as you could sink,
but Mrs. Harrington-Morse phoned yesterday.
You stormed into her house, raving like a madman,
insulted her husband, and then tried to kidnap your own daughter in my car.
Do you know, I've just driven 50 miles in a taxi.
Apart from ruining Vicky's holiday, how do you suppose she's going to live this down at school?
Oh, she won't have to, she's been...
What?
She's been expelled.
Well, I want a divorce!
- You got one. - Again!
Vicky?
Oh...
Right, that's it, I've had enough.
- Right, come on. - We've decided Dad's gonna bring me up.
I wouldn't trust your father to bring up his lunch.
Oh, God. Everyone back on the coach.
There you go, then, man, you won't see better than that.
Not in a month in Bangkok.
Gift of a lifetime, that is. Take your pick.
Quite. But I am only interested in complete collections.
Oh, do, do.
All I ever get for my birthday is socks and underpants.
I wish my wife was as broad-minded as you are.
(Clears throat)
- Well, I think your wife... - Eric.
A teenage girl should be with her mother.
Shut up, Eric.
Lady Jane, I have received a number of offers for single pieces.
You understand that were I to dispose of the whole collection,
I would of course have to take this into account.
Of course. You have brought the entire collection?
Lock, stock and barrel.
Twenty grand. Cash.
That's a lot to pay for stolen goods, isn't it, Mr. Griffiths?
Especially someone else's stolen goods, Taffy.
Lovejoy!
Eric! Eric, not after them! No, no, come on.
Take all this stuff back to Badenside.
- Car keys! - They're in the car.
(Jane) I think it's safe to say we've lost him.
I don't him, we're going after the girl.
Do you know where she is?
First time I saw Garner, he was talking about someone called Bobby.
I've just found out who Bobby is - he's only interested in Khadija
because of her big sister.
- (Girl) Hello. - Hello.
Oh, my God.
(Screams)
Oh, my goodness, you gave me a fright. What are you doing here?
I'm here to see the headmistress.
- Name? - Er, Miss Hemmingway.
No, no, no, no. Your name.
Oh. Ha. Eric.
Eric Catchpole.
You're not on my list. What's it in connection with?
Well, I'm delivering some books.
Ah, Civis Romanus.
I shall have to count them.
(Shrieks)
Filth!
(Alarm blaring)
What on earth is going on?
Well, don't ask me, I'm just delivering the books.
(Alarm stops)
There's one missing. Where's Lovejoy?
Well, I don't know.
(Girls cheering outside)
(Hooter, bicycle bill)
(Car horn)
(Lovejoy humming melody)
Susan's car.
(Humming)
(Clock chiming)
- Going to the library? - Oh, please, leave me alone.
That man's a crook, Khadija, even if he got the money.
What? Didn't he get his money?
- No, he didn't. It won't work, Khadija. - (Boy) Geronimo!
Even if you paid Garner off, he'd be back once the money ran out.
It's not pretty, blackmail, is it, Aisha?
How do you know Charles Garner?
Garner did a pregnancy test for you two years ago.
Positive, wasn't it?
Oh, you got them. You got them!
Oh, really!
- Khadija, Aisha. - I'm sorry.
Khadija was only trying to help. I'm in desperate trouble.
- What sort of trouble? - When I was at Badenside
I thought I was pregnant. I couldn't go to the school doctor,
so I went to a local chemist for a test.
- A chemist! - I didn't have anywhere else to go, did I?
The test was positive, so I had an abortion.
- It was horrible. - But then she met Bobby Khan.
And I fell in love with him.
But the chemist read about us in the papers.
He said he knew the Khans wouldn't let me marry Bobby
if they were shown proof that I wasn't a virgin.
Garner tried to sell me the pregnancy test results,
but he said they'd be very expensive.
And then when Garner found out that Khadija was stealing expensive prints to pay him off,
he tried to cut out the middle man.
My poor child. Why on earth didn't you come to me?
Why? You wouldn't let Aisha take the pill in the first place.
It's your fault she got pregnant.
As a chemist, I would suggest that was a biological impossibility.
Please, no more violence. He's already fractured my skull.
Madam, it appears your pupils have little understanding of the rudiments of blackmail.
Allow me to enlighten you all.
Unless somebody gives me my money immediately,
I'm going to take Aisha's medical records to her prospective hus...
Oh, you mean these medical records.
Yeah, well, there's nothing to stop me going to Robert Khan anyway.
Nothing at all, but it'd be your word against Miss Hemmingway's.
Aisha spent that entire week helping Miss Hemmingway catalog the school library,
- didn't she, Miss Hemmingway? - What week?
- Any week you care to claim otherwise. - So she did.
So, it's back to the cough drops, Garner.
You've got nothing to tell.
(Girls cheering)
Oh, thank you, Lovejoy. Thank you for everything.
You have my thanks too. And I shall look forward to seeing Vicky next term.
There's, er, just the question of the fees.
- Ah. - But we can settle those
when we get your bill.
Your bill for valuing and cataloging the books.
It'll have to be done before they're put on public display.
Not a cathedral, I think, nor a school,
but perhaps you can suggest a gallery.
- (Cameras clicking) - Now, if you use this, it's gotta be cash, right?
When I think of Vicky spending the night in that man's house.
Still, Peter King phoned this morning, full of effusive apologies.
Wanted to thank me for dissociating the agency from Homestead before the whistle blew,
so I must be forgiven.
- He asked after you. - He always was two-faced.
Still, he's in advertising.
Oh, Lovejoy, let me help you with the school fees.
Oh, there's no need to. Miss Hemmingway, apart from taking young Victoria back,
- is also going to hire me. - What?
Yeah, you're going back. Lovejoy's fixed it with your headmistress.
Well, say goodbye, Vicky.
Goodbye, Eric. You tell that double-crossing pig,
I'll never speak to him again.
Well, I'll just have to say goodbye for you.
And we will have that lunch sometime.
Bought you a present.
Oh, Lovejoy.
In the boot!
(Shrieks) Lovejoy!