(Birds twittering)
Where do you want this stuff, Lovejoy?
Eric, how many times have I told you
that we professionals do not refer to valuable stock as "stuff"?
(Phone)
Lovejoy Antiques.
Yes. Freddie.
Freddie! Ah, Freddie! How are ya?
Yeah, how's business?
Well, I'm very, very pleased to hear that.
Hm? Oh, no, everything's fine here, just fine. Yeah.
Yeah. Sorry?
Hold? Oh, certainly I'll hold.
It's Freddie, Freddie the Phone,
my entrepreneurial landlord, now living in the sunnier climes of Espanol,
teaching the locals to be upwardly mobile
through the use of the portable telephone.
From my somewhat limited experience,
I've found getting a phone to function normally out there is a novelty.
- (Crackling) - Ooh.
Yes? Yes?
Still holding, Freddie.
What's that?
A favor.
Yeah. Yeah, fire away, old friend.
Ha-ha!
The great British flintlock, Eric.
Those were the days.
My God, Tinker, you look as daft as that bloke from It Ain't Half Hot Mum.
A great British Tommy. Back to back,
the thin red line, defending King and country
against the onslaught of the yellow peril. Halt!
(Sheepishly) Who goes there?
- Mr. Lovejoy... I presume. - (Chuckles)
This important business friend of yours, Arnold Featherstone -
tallish, distinguished-looking?
Mid-50s, drives a gray BMW?
Mm. Even as we speak, Freddie, he and an Oriental gentleman
are being escorted in by one of my security men.
Freddie, I said I'd look after the place for you, didn't I?
Yeah, well, keep in touch. Love to Mavis and the dog.
- Lovejoy, this is... - Arnold Featherstone.
- Very pleased to meet you. - I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Lovejoy.
At ease, Tink.
May I introduce you to Mr. Kashimoto?
He's a business colleague of Freddie and mine.
Mr. Kashimoto.
(Rattling)
Democracy at work, gentlemen.
Featherstone won't be happy.
Rules is rules, Peter.
Rules is rules.
- Will that be all, Lovejoy, sir? - Thank you, Catchpole.
Did Freddie explain the situation, Lovejoy?
What, that you have a rare silver cup and you want an independent valuation?
Correct. Yes, the Pulsatilla - that's the name of the cup -
apparently, it's a very rare piece.
Wild, it's a very rare flower.
And I understand the maker was a Russian, a Maksim Bemochev.
Bemochev?
You familiar with his work?
Maksim Bemochev was a workmaster for Fabergé in Moscow in the early 1900s.
This Pulsatilla cup is not a listed Fabergé item, is it?
No, not to my knowledge, Lovejoy, but I'm not the expert.
Where can I get such china, please? Most amusing.
(Laughs) A gift, Mr. Kashimoto.
Yours to empty, yours to hold.
Most kind, Mr. Lovejoy.
May I prevail upon your generosity one more time?
It's just what you need, Dennis. It would look great here.
Don't you think? 1760s Short Land Pattern musket,
commonly known as the Brown Bess. It's in great nick.
- OK, sounds good. Fetch it over. - Yeah.
What about a samurai sword?
That's not very original thinking, Tink.
A Samurai sword? Over an English fireplace in an English country pub?
Oh, Tinker, wash your mouth out with soap and water.
No, no, Jane. Kashimoto, in anticipation of being made a member
of the Westmorland Golf Club, has commissioned yours truly
to purchase an item of antiquity as a gift for the club.
Well, I hate to be the one to put a spanner in the works,
but your client has more chance of becoming our next prime minister.
I have heard the institution is a little Anglo-Saxon.
Anglo-Saxon? They're a bunch of racists and bigots. They're frightful people.
How do you know? Oh-oh. Daddy a member, was he?
Worse.
No, Alex's father took out life membership for the entire family.
Officially, I'm still a member myself. What a ghastly thought.
(Tinker) So, what's to do?
Apparently, Kashimoto is very Cashimoto - money no problem.
So thinking caps on, please.
What would be today's equivalent of a samurai warrior?
Er... a four-wheel-drive Shogun, I'd say. Fuel injected, they are.
No, no, what I mean - the modern Japanese warrior
tends to attack the fairways and green with a putter and a seven-iron.
I've got a couple of mates who specialize in antiquities, sporting.
In fact, they're a couple of sporting antiquities themselves.
When I next see you, you'll be older.
Come on, Janey, take me to this club of bigots.
Eric.
The musket. Have it cleaned and ready for inspection for when I return. Right?
You haven't sold it already? Cor blimey, there's one born every minute.
(Laughs) He's got this knackered old musket, right? He only got it yesterday.
He's sold it already. He could sell binoculars to a blind man, that bloke.
(Chuckles) Cheers, Den.
- (Jane) Lovejoy. - Mm?
- Why are we going to the golf club? - To see Arnold Featherstone.
He wants me to give a valuation on the club's prize trophy.
Sounds to me like they're flogging off the family silver.
Why on earth would they want to do that?
Well, how would I know, Jane?
(Eric) Hang on in there, lads, the reinforcements will be on their way.
(Gunfire on TV)
Catchpole to the rescue.
Pkww! Pkww!
Thin red line fighting the rebels. Pkww! Pkw-pkww!
Reload.
- Pkww! Pkw-pkw-pkwww! - (Screams)
I got one. Great.
(Yells)
Oh!
Oh, my Lord.
Oi! Stop!
You're not allowed in this way. Tradesmen's entrance is round there.
Lovejoy! Good to see you.
- Good Lord. Lady Felsham? - Yes. Nice to see you again, Arnold.
- How are you? - I'm fine. Really nice to see you.
Come on in. It's all right, Peter, these people are my guests.
He's a bundle of laughs.
Ooh.
Lady Felsham, I'm terribly sorry, but... would you mind?
Hmm.
I'll be out on the patio. Have fun.
Sorry about that. Women aren't allowed inside.
By the way, don't mention Kashimoto. He's been blackballed, poor chap.
The Major, I suspect. I don't think he's ever forgiven them
for sneaking in through the back door on bicycles when they took Singapore.
Ah, hello, is Ron the plumber there, please?
Yeah, Ron.
Ah, Ron.
Help!
We have a lot of competitions here, Lovejoy.
But the competition for this cup is highlight of the year.
No one's allowed to keep the cup for the whole year, I take it?
In name only.
The winner, provided he has a first-rate security system installed in his house,
is allowed to keep the cup for just one week.
It's then returned here and kept under lock and key.
And no woman has ever won this cup, I take it, Major?
Good Lord, no.
(Laughing) No, our lady members do not compete for the Pulsatilla.
Magnificent?
That's the word, Arnold.
- Anyone at home? - Up here, Ron!
(Laughs)
Having fun, then, Eric?
But... But... But this is preposterous!
- Are you sure, Lovejoy? - I'm afraid so, gentlemen.
What you've got here is a silver-plated copy.
Look for yourself, Major.
But... Look, I...
Good god, man, I'm no expert in such matters.
Well, I am. And if Maksim Bemochev had made this...
there would by Cyrillic lettering here,
next to which would be stamped the head, in profile,
of a young Russian girl wearing a Russian headdress called a kokoshnik,
which would tell you that this was made between the years 1908 and 1917.
Next to that would be two numerals telling you the silver content.
Which in this case should have been "zlotniki".
- Close to pure. - This is devastating.
The land deal - what are we to do?
We were hoping to sell the cup to raise some funds
for a very necessary land purchase. Well, we're finished.
God, who'd do such a thing?
How are we gonna raise the finances?
It's none of my business, but, erm...
I think you made a mistake in blackballing Kashimoto and company.
Got a point, Major. Not too late to reconsider.
Have you gone mad, Featherstone? Under no circumstances.
Whole foundation of this club could...
Isn't there something else we can sell?
Erm... may I ask a question?
(Clears throat) Who... was the last person to win this cup
and have a first-rate security system in their home?
Oh. Freddie, actually.
(Metallic banging)
Good shooting, Eric. You've shot the water tank
right between the stopcock and ball valve.
But can you fix it? I mean, can you fix it before Lovejoy gets back?
Means a new tank. It's a long job.
Start clearing the rubbish away.
- I'll get the tools out. - Oh, thanks, Ron.
Oh, J... D! No!
What? Bloody hell.
Bloody hell.
It's beautiful.
I've shut the water off.
I'm very surprised at you, Eric.
Even I know the first thing you should do with an old gun
is check it ain't still primed.
It's criminal, the amount that are.
At auction, Arnold, the real thing would have attracted considerable attention.
I mean, we're talking about 40 grand plus.
- What? - Mm.
Oh, God, we've no option, we'll have to call in the police.
It's hard luck on Freddie, but under the circumstances what else can we do?
You know, it's hardly logical to blame Freddie, is it?
He's not going to ask me to put a valuation on that cup,
knowing it to be a fake, is he?
Well, no, no. Of course not. I take your point.
But... what else can I do?
Can you avoid calling the law in for a couple of days
or at least until I've had a chance to talk to Freddie?
Mm. God, what a mess, though!
- Ah, Arnold. - Oh, Peter.
Peter Davis, Lovejoy.
I see you've already met Lady Felsham.
- Peter's our current captain. - Oh.
- Mr. Lovejoy. - Just Lovejoy.
Yes, well, I apologize for what happened earlier,
but, you see, as club captain I'm duty-bound to enforce club rules.
And... (Laughs) Well, I mean, I really must insist.
Will you excuse us for a minute? Peter, could I have a word, please?
Now, come on, Lovejoy, let's just get out of here.
Under any other circumstances I'd be out of here like a shot.
- Keep the change. - (Man) Thanks, guv.
Shop!
Oh! Tinker! My little angel!
Tanya, my pudding!
You are as delectable as ever.
Oh, how lovely to see you again.
What brings you here and... pressed to my bosom?
A buying mission of considerable importance.
Needless to say, my client is a man of means and breeding.
Where is he?
(Slurring) Ah! Ah, Tinker, my dear.
- Oh, f... ancy. Oh. - Morris!
Apparently, I fall a little short
in the required-attire department for this establishment.
We compromised. I get to sit outside in the sunshine
whilst Arnold takes Jane on the grand tour.
Actually, I, er...
did get a quick shufti around the place...
whilst Arnold and the, er... club captain
were in heated debate about the rules.
In the dining room, on the wall, in pride of place,
they have what they think is a Turner.
After what's happened, I didn't have the heart to tell them it was another schneid
painted by someone who, as we speak, is helping Interpol with their enquiries.
Outside the committee room,
being kicked, bashed about and abused in general,
is a hall stand by Christopher Dresser, which is worth about £4,000.
Go figure it out.
Are we ready, Lovejoy?
- Thank you, Arnold. - Thanks for your time, Lovejoy.
Send your invoice in and I'll make sure it's dealt with promptly.
Oh, I will.
Lady Felsham.
I think Mr. Kashimoto is a very lucky man.
Whoa... that's better.
Now, then, my dear Tinker. To business.
Indeed. To business, Morris.
An item just perfect for your client's needs, I'd say.
A hickory-shafted putter
bearing the monogram of the famous man himself.
The very putter he used
to putt out the final hole of the final green
the very first day he won the British Open Championship
back in... 19... Oh, well, whatever.
And er... Morris, which famous man was that?
Why, Henry, of course. The great Henry Cotton.
Who else?
I am interested.
Yes. Well... slight problem there, old boy.
No, no, as I said to you before, Morris,
my client is a man of considerable means.
The problem is, Tinker, we sold said item three months ago
to a collector in Hampstead.
- Oh, dear. - Ah.
But the man in question is a businessman first
and a collector second.
I, er...
I could always give him a call.
So... what do I say to Freddie?
"Sorry, Freddie. My associate, Eric, shot your water tank full of holes."
"Oh, that's all right, Lovejoy, happens all the time."
Well, while you're about it, you might ask him about this.
Oh, no.
If he doesn't know about it, I'm claiming finder's rights.
- Oh, Freddie. - I've got rights, Lovejoy. I found it.
- Don't be a berk, Eric. - It might we worth a lot of money.
If it's what I think it is, it is worth a lot of money.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
It's also got "stolen" and "go directly to jail" written all over it.
Stolen.
It's beautiful, innit? I found it in an old trunk in the loft upstairs.
I wish you hadn't, Eric.
- That's me done for today. - Thanks, Ron.
- That's Grandad's cup. - Hey?
- Not the real McCoy, but nice, eh? - Grandad's cup? Not the real McCoy?
Course not. Golf club's got the real one.
My old grandad presented it to the club back in 1925.
- Stand on me, it's a copy. - How do you know it's a copy?
It is a copy. Second one I've seen in as many hours.
Oh, yeah, there's a few knocking about.
Look, I'm spitting feathers, Lovejoy.
Eric, take Ron down the local, wet his vocal cords, will you?
- OK. You not joining us? - No, I have to call Freddie first.
Unless, of course, you'd like a word with him, Eric.
All fixed, old chap. 10:30 tomorrow morning.
- His place. - Tomorrow?
Then I am in town tonight.
Mm. It's all right if you like that modern repro rubbish, Dennis.
(Sighs) And to think... I was almost tempted to stay in bed this morning.
I know how you feel, Lovejoy.
No, I don't think you do, Eric.
- You having a pint, Lovejoy? - Thank you, Ron.
What did Freddie have to say about the... water tank?
- We didn't get around to that subject. - (Phone)
We had other things to talk about.
Hello?
Lovejoy! Phone.
Tinker. A tanked-up Tinker, I'd say.
Oh, all right, all right.
Well, as you can imagine, Freddie wasn't too happy with being chief suspect.
Threatened to jump on the next plane, come home and sort it all out.
As his house is soaking wet and shot full of holes,
I didn't think that was a terribly good idea,
so "Leave it with me for a few days," I heard myself saying. "I'll sort it out."
(Laughs)
- Cheers, Lovejoy. - Oh, thank you very much, Ron.
So... your grandad. Tell me how he came by this cup.
Yeah, I've got it, Tink. You're spending the night in London.
I hope you're not up to any naughties.
He told me he won it off some French soldier in a card game or something
in the First World War.
Course, no one really knows the truth about that cup.
Mind you, back in them days, my family name and the Felshams
- were mentioned in the same breath. - Your family and the Felshams, eh?
When did your family decide to branch out into plumbing?
Oh, well, see, Lord Felsham and my old grandad were like that back then.
Between them, I suppose they must have owned nearly half this county.
They were founder members of the golf club, as it happens.
- It's all sorted. - Oh, good.
Go on, Ron, about your family fortunes.
Well, my old grandmum, God rest her soul,
she went to her grave cursing the Felsham name.
She always reckoned old man Felsham pulled a fast one on Grandad
back in the '30s. Some land-deal swindle or something.
Blooming 'ell. That's a turnup, eh?
Then years later, back in the '50s,
when my old man was old enough to take over the family affairs,
things went from bad to worse.
Useless, was my old man. We was potless by the mid-'60s.
- All gone? Nothing left? - Just the cottage I live in.
Oh, and 12 acres of scrub meadowland on the east side of that poxy golf club.
- That must be worth a few bob, innit? - Yeah, one day, perhaps.
The last member who parked in the captain's spot was hanged at dawn
and his corpse left for a week as a warning to others.
And he drove a Rolls-Royce, I'm told.
The... genuine article, Mr. Gold?
Oh, as an item of antiquity it has a somewhat limited value.
Mr. Dill, let's not get involved in silly conversations.
It's the club's history that makes it a unique piece.
I know its value so, please, I'm a very busy man.
What's this in my parking space?
And to your knowledge, only four copies have been made?
Yeah. Major, Wing Commander Geddings, Peter Davis and Freddie.
The name of the silversmith who makes the copies?
It's a firm the Major recommended. In Bishop's Stortford, I think.
But the Major handles all that for the winners.
That's what Freddie told me. Where is the Major?
Out on the course, I think. Listen, I think you ought to know that
the Major now is not too happy with your involvement in all this.
That comes as no surprise, Arnold.
I also gather from Freddie that he and the Major didn't exactly hit it off.
Well, let's just say the Major is...
Mm.
Boo.
As your number-one spy, I have to inform you
there's a hanging-party scouring the premises, looking for you.
- Isn't it nice to be popular? - (Davis) That little tyke, Lovejoy...
- Head him off at the pass. ...has parked his damn car in my space.
New parking service, gentlemen.
Lovejoy.
Damn that man.
Who the hell let him back on these premises again in the first place, eh?
I'll buy you drinks!
I want him... thrown out.
And for God's sake, get one of the staff to remove that junk heap
- from my parking space, as well. - Something wrong, Mr. Davis?
Oh... Lady Felsham.
Did I do something... so wrong when parking my little fun-thing?
W... Your vehicle?
Yes. I've done something terribly wrong, haven't I? I can tell.
Well... no, it's not so terribly wrong, but...
we do have to have rules here. I'm sure you can understand that.
Yes, of course, I'm so sorry. I'll move it right away.
Oh, no, no, no, no. Please.
No harm done this time.
Park my car.
There. Problem solved.
Now... what can I get you to drink?
Excuse me, excuse me. Yours.
(Laughing)
Beep! Beep!
Oi! Watch it!
Very bad luck, Major.
What the hell do you think you're playing at, Lovejoy?
Sorry if I'm interrupting your round, Major,
but I wonder if you'd mind answering a few questions.
Yes, I would mind. Now, will you leave this course now?
On the double. Before I throw you off.
Would you play your shot, please?
- Damn good shot. Excuse me. - What the hell?
- He'll be with you in a minute. - Now, you look here...
No. You look here, Major. I don't wish to seem offensive,
but if you don't answer my questions I'll show you just how offensive I can be.
(Laughs) Oh dear.
The last time I saw someone look as bad as you do, Tinker,
they were nailing the lid down, mate.
My God, Tink, you look like the rough end of a pineapple.
Oh, who's this now?
- Mr. Kashimoto. - Don't let him see this.
Hey?
It's all right. I told his assistant I'd be down here.
- What? - There you are.
Won't be a minute.
Very good, Jane.
Well?
Fairbanks & Dean. Silversmiths. Bishop's Stortford.
- How's the captain? - A little... putt out, I'd say.
Ho-ho! That's very funny, Janey.
Not too tight with that grip, remember.
- Lovejoy, where are you going? - To see a man... about a cup.
The golf club have agreed to let me use the original
in my photograph, Mr. Dean.
What paper did you say you were with, Mr?
Jarvis. Rupert Jarvis. I'm with an independent.
The Independent?
Er... Oh, no, I'm a freelance
for an independent firm that produces...
supplements for Sunday magazines.
- Be very good publicity for your firm. - Really?
Now, I sometimes forget a face,
but I never forget a piece... as beautiful... as this.
Mm. I can relate to that...
Mr... Lovejoy?
Yes.
- Yes, I love this piece. - Mm.
- Thank you for selling it to me. - It's a pleasure, Mr. Dean.
George II baluster-lidded tankard.
William Priest, London 1790.
Nice to see it's in good hands.
- Don't suppose you'd consider... - No chance. Not for sale at any price.
- Hm. - (Clock chimes)
Right, as one professional to another
and dispensing with all this newspaper nonsense,
what is your interest in the Pulsatilla Cup and how may I assist? Hm?
Good round, Major?
I was going great guns until that scruffy oik, Lovejoy, arrived on the course.
- So, it was you he went to see. - Yes.
I've a few choice words for Featherstone.
I've a good mind to call a special meeting of the committee.
Yes. Well, I'll back you on that one.
The man shouldn't be allowed on the premises,
let alone tearing around our course.
My usual. One for the Major.
I... hope he had good reason to interrupt your round.
Asking bloody questions about Pulsatilla Cup business.
Make sure mine's with plenty of ice.
I want that Lovejoy barred from these premises.
Yes. Yes.
Beginner's luck. Now, tell me about the problems you have
with the land at the entrance to the club. I might be able to help.
You said if I ever needed anybody, er... duffed up
or... sorted out.
Well, yes. Mm-hm.
H... (Clears throat) How much?
Oh. I'm obviously in the wrong business.
No, no, no, no. No. Yeah. Yeah, that'll be fine.
Well, as quickly as possible.
It's, er... some flash antiques dealer... called Lovejoy.
Plant hire business, I gather.
According to gossip, he very nearly went broke this time last year.
But then, if you believed all the gossip,
one would have to say that our dear captain
has had a few ladies up against the wall.
If you know what I mean.
- Hm. Really? - Mm.
Plays it all very carefully, does our Peter.
Never gets involved with us members or members' wives.
- Pity really. (Giggles) - Christine.
What will Lady Felsham think of us?
No, but seriously, he's a real charmer.
Especially where the female staff are concerned.
Yes, I'd say that's par for the course.
Oh. Don't look now, girls, but I think we're being watched.
Yes, "par for the course" is right. The last two barmaids can testify to that.
Especially the last one, the Thornly girl.
Couldn't keep that one quiet, eh, Christine?
Broke the poor girl's heart.
Randy swine.
The club's access road runs across privately owned land.
Well, the club had a 60-year lease, which is about to expire
so they need to raise cash pretty quickly in order to buy the land.
Janey, any golf club that is only accessible by a helicopter
- has a slight problem, don't you think? - Actually, I find it quite ironic.
They wanted exclusivity - they've certainly got it.
- Rubbish. - Oh.
- Oh. The silversmiths. Any luck there? - Interesting.
Messrs Fairbanks & Dean made five copies of that cup.
- Oh, that's interesting. - That's just a good example.
No, no. (Whispering) The silversmiths.
Oh, the fifth copy was commissioned by a P Thornly.
Now, the golf club has never had a P Thornly as a member, past or present.
How odd.
Aha, Mr. Lovejoy. This is a most honorable gift.
Henry Cotton was the most respected golfer, yes?
The most respected golfer, Mr. Kashimoto.
Most respected.
Mr. Lovejoy, I thank you very much.
Yeah, I know. He's a nice guy.
All right.
Mr. Kashimoto.
I think there's something you ought to know
about your membership of this golf club.
Blackballed, Mr. Lovejoy.
- You know. - Of course. It's to be expected.
- You still want to offer them this gift? - It's a matter of honor, Mr. Lovejoy.
To lose face to such people
would be a matter of great dishonor.
That's very commendable, Mr. Kashimoto, but I...
Well, there's an English expression -
"I had my card marked before I spent your money."
But you see, Mr. Lovejoy, I had my card marked
before I employed your services.
There are other ways to gain access to such an establishment.
(Car draws up)
Hello, Arnold.
Coffee? Tea?
Er, no. No. No, thanks.
- Ooh. Sounds serious. - Yes.
The Major called an emergency committee meeting at the club last night.
Your name was top of the agenda.
I'm very flattered. I've never been top of an agenda before.
I'm truly sorry, but I've been told to inform you of the committee's decision.
You are to drop all enquiries concerning the Pulsatilla Cup forthwith.
If not yesterday.
I've also been charged with the unpleasant task of informing you
that you're never to set foot on the club premises again.
Wow, I really was top of the agenda, wasn't I?
By association, the same thing applies to Lady Felsham.
In fact, she's been struck from the membership.
I'm sure she will be crushed.
Sorry, Lovejoy.
- Is that it? - Oh, now, I'm really embarrassed.
I'm very sorry, but it was your antics out on the course yesterday with the Major.
- No, don't apologize to me, Arnold. - (Car draws up)
Save those for your friends and business associates,
like Freddie and Mr. Kashimoto.
You can tell Lady Jane yourself.
- Sorry, Lovejoy. Morning, Lady Felsham. - Good morning, Arnold.
Bye, Arnold.
Hello, Janey.
Lovejoy, it came to me while I was in the bath this morning.
Eureka.
That name, Thornly. P Thornly is not a man.
- Does he know this yet? - Will you be serious?
P Thornly is not a man nor a club member.
The P is for Philippa. Philippa Thornly was a barmaid
and an ex-employee of the club.
And guess who she was having an affair with at the time.
- Go on, surprise me. - Captain Slug, Peter Davis.
- Eurgh! - I thought you'd be pleased.
Now all we have to do is find her. We'll pop over to the club and ask around.
- Ah. Small problem there, Janey. - Get ready. Let's get going.
- I've been banned. - Oh.
Well, hardly surprising under the circumstances.
No problem. I'll go round on my own.
- So have you. - What?
Been banned. Kicked out. Spanish archered.
Dis-membered. Elbowed. Whatever.
- I've what? They can't do that. - Thought you'd be pleased.
They've barred me from the... club?
I don't understand. The Felshams have been members since time immemorial.
Is that why Arnold Featherstone came here, to tell you to tell me?
Oh, the ignorant pig! He couldn't even tell me on his own. How dare he?
Wait till I tell Alex.
Oh, hello, Dennis.
Well, he's a bit busy, actually. Can I help?
- A barmaid? - (Lovejoy) How much?!
(Ron) Come on, Lovejoy, that's double cheap. I've done you a favor.
Yeah, all right, Dennis, I'll tell him. Catch you later.
No, no, no, Ron. This bill is bloody ridiculous!
Pay me in readies and I'll knock off the VAT.
That was Dennis, from the pub. You asked him about some barmaid.
- Oh, this better be good. - Well, how do I know?
Well, anyway, he said Philippa Thornly used to work for him at the pub.
Good news?
Goodish.
How much?! Ron!
I must say, Lovejoy, this is a very nice surprise.
Thank you.
I hope that you find this comfortable. The waitress will be with you in a minute, sir.
- Evening, Lovejoy. - Hello, Ron.
- Lady Felsham. - Hello.
Can recommend the salmon, as it happens.
Très bon. Mwah!
- Isn't that? - Ron the plumber.
And he was sitting with Kashimoto.
- This all sounds wonderful. - Mm.
- I might have known. - What?
I was silly enough to believe... Never mind.
What?
- Ready to order? - What do you recommend?
- Fish is excellent. Fresh in today. - Fine for me. Janey?
Oh, I do beg your pardon. Jane Felsham, Philippa Thornly.
Very nice to meet you. Sorry, sir, do I know you?
Lovejoy.
Lovejoy Antiques.
I wonder, later, when it's not so busy, if we could have a little chat.
- A chat? About what, Mr. Lovejoy? - Just Lovejoy.
About an old friend of yours, Peter Davis.
Peter Davis is no friend of mine.
I was hoping you'd say that, Philippa.
That rat told me he was having a copy made of that cup
as a surprise gift for one of the committee members.
I didn't think I was doing anything wrong.
No, you weren't. You've got no worries on that score, believe me.
He's nicked the real one, hasn't he?
Well, we can't prove anything, Philippa, but it certainly looks that way.
Yeah, that's his style.
He was having business problems at the time.
Oh, God. What a fool I've been.
Come on, don't be so hard on yourself. You weren't to know.
Are the police involved?
You know that committee. They're a law unto themselves.
They're very reluctant to involve the police.
That's typical of that lot.
No scandal, close ranks, sweep it all under the carpet as usual.
- They're all at it, that's why. - At it?
I mean, they've all got their little fiddles. Or perks, as they call it.
The stuck-up Major fiddles the wine prices.
The Wing Commander fiddles the green fees.
- Peter Davis? - Bar and green staff wages.
Fiddles the overtime. That's how him and me...
Well, like I said, they're all at it.
You know, it makes you wonder
what you have to do to be struck off as a member, doesn't it?
- It's not that I mind being, well... - Kicked out of the club?
Quite. No, it's just that, well...
Yeah. I know how you feel, Janey.
Do you, Lovejoy?
Well, yeah. I...
I think I do. Why don't you...
tell me?
- How I feel? - Yeah.
- Lovejoy... - Shh.
(Man) Ahh...
Very touching.
Oh, ain't that nice, eh, Pete?
- Problem, lads? - We ain't got no problems, pal.
But I'd say you have.
- What the hell's going on here? - Janey, just get in the car.
- I'll take care of it. - I most certainly will not get in the car.
- Bugger off! - Janey, stop...
Thank you, Janey. Oh, sh...
If you should hit my friend again,
I'll be forced to break both your arms.
Do what?
Oh, no!
- Fra... Frank. - What?
- (Exclaims) - What's he doing, Frank?
- Sod this for a game of soldiers! - (Yells)
- Are you OK, Lovejoy? Yes? - Oh, I'm fine, Mr. Kashimoto.
Thank you very much. That was quite some display.
- Display? - Mm.
(Banging metal, screeching tires)
How do you say? Big bluff.
I know nothing of karate. But they don't know that. Yes?
(Laughing)
It's a silly game, this.
Eric, remarks like that in a place like this are very close to blasphemy.
You jammy!
I don't believe it.
What we doing here, anyway?
We're guests of Mr. Kashimoto.
Witnessing the presentation of a fine gift by a very honorable man.
But he's been blackballed. He's not gonna be a member.
Eric...
This is madness.
You haven't a shred of proof.
Nothing.
I'm the captain of this club.
Lovejoy's just a... lowlife, secondhand furniture dealer
with a working-class chip on his shoulder.
- How can you possibly believe him? - Lady Felsham?
Lady Felsham and Lovejoy are...
Well, come on. I mean, we all know
what's going on there, don't we? (Laughs)
(Throats clearing)
No, gentlemen, you've been hoodwinked. You've been conned.
You have no proof whatsoever.
(Murmuring)
You were saying, sir?
You can't do this to me.
Don't you lot forget - I know what's what around here.
I know who's fiddling what.
And I'll not keep quiet, you know.
There shouldn't be anything down there. It's gorgeous.
So, what happened?
Stripped of rank, thrown out on his ear.
What, is that it?
- No law? - No.
For reasons I cannot disclose, the committee's decided...
To close ranks? Avoid a scandal, sweep it under the carpet? I don't believe it.
There's no real proof, Lady Felsham.
Look, we're incredibly grateful to you both. How can we repay you?
Let me know when you want to do a deal on the hall stand.
Excuse me.
Look, that man has stolen from you, for God's sake.
I mean, call in the police, have him arrested!
Well, it... it's not quite as simple as that, Lady Felsham.
Let me buy you a drink. If we call in the police...
I'll show them.
Who needs this bloody place?
I'll really show them.
(Yelps)
Now, Davis, where's the cup?
- I sold it. - I figured that out for myself.
To whom?
He was a foreigner. A Russian dealer.
I know what I'd like to do with that putter.
Ladies and gentlemen... (Clears throat)... on behalf of myself,
the club committee and all our members,
I would like to say a big and sincere thank you to Mr. Kashimoto
for his truly magnificent gift.
- (Members) Hear, hear. - What a load of twaddle.
- (Clapping) - Eric, shut up.
(Clears throat) I would also like to extend to Mr. Kashimoto
my heartiest congratulations
and welcome him into the bosom of our wonderful club.
- Am I hearing right? - I think so.
Now, er... (Clears throat)... Mr. Kashimoto, if you would care to step over here,
I would be... be honored
to present to you your club tie.
Erm... Arnold, have you been holding out on us? Hm?
Well, I must confess, just a little.
And you, you're full of surprises. How did you swing this one?
Arnold explained the club had a problem with entrance land.
He then introduce me to Ron.
Oh, old "12 acres of scrubland" here.
Committee was so busy looking at the front,
they didn't bother to look to the rear. Bit like Singapore, really.
Yeah, so I sold my land to Mr. Kashimoto and the family's got a few bob again.
That's great, Ron, I'm very pleased for you.
Very pleased.
Yeah, Ron, so... you won't mind forgetting about this bill now, then, will you?
(Laughing)