Miss, I've got a problem
Hello ?
Hello !
Listings for court four.
Gary Cummings.
Colin Woodward.
Oh, Billy !
Hello.
Can I help you ?
I was lookin' for--
Sorry.
Sorry.
Billy.
Don't.
What's goin' on,
Who the fuck are you ?
I think we better
This might be
but today Billy missed
Audition ?
For the Royal Ballet School.
The Royal Ballet ?
School. It's where
You've got to be jokin'.
No, I'm perfectly serious.
Have you any idea
I've been in
and you come around here
And you!
What are you trying to do,
Look at him !
- You've gotta start trainin'
I'm not havin' any brother
Excuse me.
What good's it gonna do him ?
He's only a bairn. What about
I don't want a childhood.
What do you know about it ?
I haven't come here
For all we know,
Get the fuckin' Social
- You should calm
Well, go on, then.
Let's see
- This is ridiculous.
then let's be havin' you !
- Don't you dare !
He's got the chance to dance.
Dance, you little twat !
No ?
He's not doin' any more
and if you go near him again,
You know nothing about me,
Stop dreaming
He won't grow up
or piss his wages up the wall.
He's been with me--
Well, stop apologizing
Time is short
But it's up to us to change
Rows and rows
Anda hundred
Hanging out
It's enough
with the audition.
Tony Elliot, George Brunton.
What's the time ?
Ten past 10:00.
They're out.
Please, Miss.
Billy ?
go inside.
difficult for you,
a very important audition.
they teach the ballet.
of what we're goin' through ?
a fuckin' cell
all night,
talkin' shite !
Fuckin' ballet !
make him a fuckin' skirt
for the rest of his life ?
He's only 11 , for fuck's sake !
from when you're young.
- Shut it !
of mine running around like
a twat for your gratification.
This is not for my gratification.
You're not takin' him away.
givin' him a childhood ?
I want to be a ballet dancer.
What qualifications
have you got ?
to defend meself.
you could besome fuckin' nutter.
on to you.
yourself down, son.
- You say he can dance.
this fuckin' dancin'.
- If you're a fuckin'
ballet dancer,
- What sort of a teacher
are you, eh ?
Now you're fuckin'
tellin' him not to.
So piss off.
fuckin' ballet,
I'll smac kyou,
you middle-class cow !
you sanctimonious little shit !
of the quiet life
to race whippets or grow leeks...
for the things
you've neverdone
and life is cruel
this town called Malice
of disused milk floats stand
dying in the dairy yard
lonely housewives clutch empty
milk bottles to their hearts
their old love letters
on the line to dry