THIS is why a man returns to the place of his birth.
I was born in a bed meself. I often feel the pull of that! Often?
Don't you mean always? Probably.
In the pursuit of law and order I've had to grab my share of gonads.
I hope he's washed his hands!
But eventually, a man comes looking for peace, scenery, the little pub in the next village... Gone.
Damn! It's a theme pub now.
Why does the Almighty permit things like that? You can forgive the odd earthquake, but theme pubs!
It plays Irish music.
I can see God in all the big things, but I often wonder about the small.
Will he know about riding a bicycle or how to make a good cup of tea?
Me mum could make a good cup of tea...when she were sober.
I remember your mother. When was she sober? From Tuesday till they opened on Friday.
As long as that?!
I'm reminded of the old saying that nothing good comes without effort.
But that was before they'd heard about careers in senior management.
What's that long, creepy thing? ..No, not Truly, the other one.
It's a centipede. After all those years in the city, even I know that.
It's got a hundred legs. Just like the bloke that's next to you on a crowded bus.
They don't have EXACTLY a hundred.
They DO. That's why it's called a centipede.
But are you a reliable witness? I was Sergeant Truelove CID. Truly of the Yard.
Famous for being accurate except, when necessary, in the witness box.
Now, repeat after me, "Centipedes do NOT have exactly one hundred legs."
All right. Ninety-nine...PLUS ONE!
It's just a rough description. Not meant to be taken too seriously.
Like the marriage vows these days. It's got ONE HUNDRED legs!
I think it's marvellous the way it keeps them under control.
I've got two legs and I can get THEM entangled.
Look at him poking around with that creepy-crawly. I'd sooner have dead people any time!
I'm counting its legs.
Here, I'll hold it, you count 'em.
No, don't hurt it! Who's hurting it? I know how to handle it.
Nobody else is going to handle it. Oh, and what about the things tha's had to handle?
A policeman's lot is not always a happy one.
I made it 78.
And I'm a trained police observer with commendations for the neat appearance of my notebook.
You were nowhere NEAR its legs. You were far away enough to send it a postcard! It could be poisonous!
It's NOT poisonous. Maybe not to you.
One bite of you and that's it - on its back with 78 feet in the air.
It can't be 78 otherwise they'd call it a seventy-eightipede!
No, they wouldn't. They'd open it out to the nearest round figure.
Speaking of round figures, did you see Nora this morning? She did look smart. Can you tell the difference?
It's her legs - no wrinkles.
Can we not talk too much about the ladies? I swore an oath of chastity after my divorce.
Now I'm dedicated to eradicating evil and pursuing the perfect pint.
Why did she divorce thee? I think she resented my being prettier than she was. It was so unfair.
I used to say, "Mabel, everybody's prettier than you."
Looks like you're on your own with the ladies.
I'll manage, Norm. I know me duty. ..Why has tha never liked women?
Well, I had a bad experience. Tha still got married.
That was it.
She moved when they pulled down Emsley Street. I remember.
They should have left Emsley Street and pulled down the people there!
He left her shortly afterwards to better himself in insurance.
He once sold ME a policy.
Oh, did he make any...
suggestions?
He suggested I bought more insurance.
Oh. He had a reputation for being forward with female clients.
Not in MY house, he didn't.
Some people were getting more visits than he could possibly account for by the premiums.
Hey up! I told thee...
no wrinkles!
Don't you be looking at me legs!
Well, it beats looking at that hat. Sit yourself down!
Sit down at the table and I'll bring your tea over!
By heck! You get escorted to your table now!
Do you always take him into places? He should be outside tied to a drainpipe.
He'd only bark at passers-by.
I would, Norm. Oof! Oww-ww-wwwww!
Hey up, I bet HE'S a laugh a minute. He's not bothering YOU. There isn't a bother in him.
Maybe he's from Harrogate.
I've seen him somewhere... He's familiar.
Hey up, are we going to have a bun? Not till you wash your hands.
What's wrong with me hands? You've just been handling centipedes. Only gently.
Oh, yes!
Oh, I like the legs, Nora!
A touch o' class!
Ohh!
Three buns, please. Who's paying? Not me. I held the centipede.
I counted the legs. Wrongly.
We'll have three buns, Ivy.
It's easier paying than listening to them. I want something big and sticky-fingered.
Like your Kevin? Oh, he went straight.
Straight into somebody else's house. He changed when he got married.
Into a suit.
He does. He looks familiar. It's his personality.
Probably reminds you of a wardrobe or a switched-off TV.
MOTOR CHUGS
Way-hey! A little cracker!
STAIR CREAKS
Where do you think you're going?
For a stroll, my love. Stroll round the best bedroom, with a duster.
I've just BEEN round with a duster. Did you do the top of the wardrobe? Yes, I did.
Yesterday I did the top of the wardrobe, and there wasn't any more dust on it then.
If I find any fluff under that bed... Fluff?! We don't even have DUST.
As every fleck comes in, I'm waiting to pounce on it.
I know what YOU'RE waiting to pounce on.
Do you realise, we're almost a dustless environment. We're nearly sterile.
I ought to go for a stroll - just to breathe a few germs.
When I said put on your working clothes, I didn't mean a suit!
These ARE me working clothes. You can't help me father in a suit.
Do I have to help your father on me day off? He's behind in his project.
I thought we could go for a drive or something. Ooh, let's do that!
Ohh... Later, when you've helped me dad. Now, put on some dirty clothes.
I don't HAVE any dirty clothes. Oh, don't tell me father. He'll think you're unnatural.
..And watch WHERE you're strolling.
Where ARE you going?
Wherever the spirit leads. Especially not there.
You're not letting him go in broad daylight?
I can't keep him indoors. There must be something he could do.
Believe me, I've tried.
Excuse me. Now what?
What are you playing at? I've finished MY bun.
We heard. It sounded like someone in a rubber Mac being sucked through a revolving door.
It's not fair to torment other people with pieces of bun! It's not tormenting Clegg.
Clegg is not easily excited.
Oh, it's nice of you to say so.
I attribute it all to the benefits of a low-temperature marriage and regular cocoa.
It puzzles me how tha ever managed to get married in the first place.
Oh, it wasn't the FIRST place.
It was the third or fourth, and even then, SHE had to ask ME.
Having said that, she turned out quite well, really.
I was never short of a change of vest.
She used to warm my underwear... every Tuesday...
on a clotheshorse in front of the fire.
It's amazing how close you get.
The former Mrs Truelove was made of sterner stuff... until I made her wash her own vests.
Tha did HER washing?! I just dropped her things in with mine.
Now don't YOU start staring into space. We've enough with him!
If there IS a heaven...
I hope there's a corner somewhere on wet winter nights with a coal fire
and respectable married garments drying together on a clotheshorse.
I wish you'd had some old clothes. I'm wearing overalls.
Me father'll think you're wearing a suit!
BANG!
You're not going to send me in there? I wouldn't - not for anybody but me father.
I'll keep checking up on you. Don't touch anything electrical.
I'll be off, then.
It's no good, love. I can't send you in there. I'd do anything for you, but preferably in a suit.
BANG!
Great! Great stuff!
How long is he just going to sit there?
He looks familiar. He should do. He's been there an hour. I'm going to ask him who he is.
Hang on! You can't do that!
That's being nosy. Go and ask the ladies who he is.
SHOP!!
Come here. What do you want?
It's personal.
I'm not falling for that! When HE gets personal, you're struggling for your life!
I'll put me hands in me pocket.
One false move and we'll fillet you and put you under the grill!
I'm better under a low light on a well-sprung sofa. What DO you want?
(Who is HE?)
(We've no idea, except he comes in every Wednesday.)
(I've seen him somewhere. His face is familiar. Tha's right, lass. I'VE seen him somewhere.)
Howard! What are you doing out at this time?
I hope you've not thrown all caution to the winds and come to carry me off beyond my furthest expectations.
I'd have to be back for teatime. There's a always a snag.
I'm on top of all me chores. She couldn't find anything for me to do.
I don't like you seeing me in this scruffy overall.
You look ravishing! I don't know about ravishing...
Oh, I don't know, though.
Are you sure you've finished all your jobs? Listen, when it comes to housework, I'm hell on wheels.
Ohh, Howard...!
Ohh, Marina...!
Oh, crikey!
I've seen thee afore.
I come here every Wednesday. Long afore that. The name escapes me.
Duckworth. Duckworth... Don't go away.
He's a Duckworth. Well, I suppose somebody has to be.
Doesn't ring a bell. I never forget a name...
except mine, occasionally, in the pursuit of the perfect pint.
I knew a Gladys Duckworth.
He's probably lovelier than her, but I don't think he's a Gladys.
She were lovely, my Gladys! She could open bottles with her teeth.
You've had women with teeth?!
Stick around, kid, I'll show thee all the moves.
I wonder where he's from...
I'll ask him.
Where does tha come from? Golden Meadow Gardens.
He's from Golden Meadow Gardens.
Nobody lives in a place called Golden Meadow Gardens! That's what he said.
People live in places like Station Road or High Street or Crocketts Terrace, not Golden Meadow Gardens!
Don't mention houses. I lost a good house in the divorce.
I wonder what kind of swine's washing her vests there now?
He still loves her!
I deny that. I've got witnesses - her mother.
Her mother says I never loved her.
I mean, writing Golden Meadow Gardens on an envelope
is enough to seriously disturb your hormonal drive.
Even THAT'S a better address - number 23, Hormonal Drive.
I never loved her mother, that's for sure.
That woman could arouse in me thoughts incompatible with being a policeman. Only THOUGHTS, mark you.
Besides, where could you hide a body that size?
I wonder where he lived before Golden Meadow Gardens? I'll ask him.
..Where did tha live before Golden Meadow Gardens?
Milton Street.
Now we're getting somewhere.
As long as it's not Golden Meadow Gardens.
Why CAN'T he help your father? Mother, look at him!
I keep him immaculate. How can I let him help me father? Would YOU let him help me father?
I have to put up with the condition your father gets into.
But you keep him outside. I don't want to keep my Barry outside.
You will when he gets like your dad.
I could do his clerical work. I wouldn't mind doing his paperwork.
The nearest he gets to paperwork is standing on it in my kitchen!
Have you seen a small husband wearing a large smile?
What's he doing out at this hour? He's finished his chores. Ooh, they do get tricky.
I've run out of work for him.
Funny you should say that. WE know somebody who needs some work doing.
His first name is Bruce.
..It suits him.
Like a big, quiet golden retriever.
He's like a big lump. I've seen more action on mortuary slabs. What's he doing here?
It were his day off. He comes here each Wednesday. He were a Duckworth.
His mother were an Oglethorpe.
You know who he is, then. He's one of the Duckworths that were at school when we were.
What was his nickname? Scruffy kid.
Oh, that narrows it down. We were ALL scruffy.
Aye, we were ALL scruffy, except for one or two tulips whose mothers should have known better.
I'm trying to think of his nickname! I remember yours -
Shirley Temple!
Only while he was wearing his little sailor suit.
It was a very macho little sailor suit.
The things you have to do to attract a bit of custom.
You're at the mercy of the greed of the man in the street.
You can't remove people's cash without an anaesthetic!
Hello! Here comes a live one.
This'll teach him to idle about in broad daylight. Dick Turpin is alive and well and lurking in my shop!
Suspect was well-built. No distinguishing features except a dirty nose.
Navy-blue jersey. Always sitting on Myrtle Hobson.
That were me. Oh, was it? Well, he was always sitting on somebody.
Doreen Patterson.
HE can't be Doreen Patterson!
Not HIM. That's who he used to sit on.
Coggie! His nickname was Coggie.
Hey up.
I remember Coggie!
That's right. Coggie. Now it looks as if he's got a handkerchief.
Coggie! It is! It's Coggie!
I've not been called that for a while. Who are YOU?
Who are WE? Coggie, tha MUST remember us!
Little Herbie Truelove. Shirley Temple.
Cleggy.
And tha MUST remember me - young Simmonite.
Used to let you look at his ringworm for a ha'penny. Tha could touch it for a penny.
He was doing great till everybody got ringworm.
Hang on a minute. You must remember this. Anybody got a pen?
Right. Who was always doing this?
Would you like a gottle of geer?
Yeah! Simmonite!
Bill Simmonite! Oh, ho! Ah, ha-ha!
# Oh, the sun has got his hat on! Hip, hip, hip, hooray!
# The sun has got his hat on and he's coming to out to play... # What the blood and stomach pills?!
OUT!
It's a lesson to all of us.
If anybody needed a lesson, it's you. But what, particularly, is the lesson for US?
Coggie. He's just sitting there. And that's on his day off.
I suppose the rest of his week is equally unexciting.
You can get used to unexciting. Well, we shouldn't.
We should make a vow here and now never to settle for unexciting.
Life after the former Mrs Truelove has been unexciting.
I still think she's got my spare handcuffs.
He were always such a lively lad. You can't expect him to be still sitting on Doreen Patterson.
Why not? That's the trouble with growing up.
What do YOU know about growing up? You never made it. And I never will.
You've got to keep accepting life's challenges. Or else...
Or else what?
Coggie.
BANG!
METALLIC SPLUTTERING What was that?! I don't know, but I hope it's never widely available.
It sounds like a couple of chain saws mating.
Enough's enough! That's it! Finished! Done!
I don't care what she says! I'm going back to housework! I'll find something!
Howard, what's tha doing?! I've been helping Wesley.
That explains it. ..Of course, he could be lying.
Where are you going?!
Home! To do a bit of housework!
I thought you'd done it all!
I'll do it again!
How do, lads! I'm looking for a volunteer.
I'll volunteer.
You don't even know what it is! I'm not going to end up like Coggie.
What IS your new machine, Wesley?
It's a gem, lads. It's something I'm REALLY proud of.
An 'eavy-duty garden sucker/blower.
I can do that. I can handle a heavy-duty sucker/blower.
Handle one? You once nearly married one.
It's a bit hefty, Wesley. You'll get used to it.
I told you - it's heavy duty.
How many leaves do you want? That should do her.
Should make a mouthful for her.
Remember Pearl Harbor. You're right. He'd be ideal for dropping on a battleship.
Right.
Right, I'll start her, and when you're ready for vacuuming, you just press that switch.
MOTOR COUGHS AND CHUGS
Right, switch her on!
She's a little cracker!
OK. Now we'll try how she blows. We're not picking up all those leaves again.
No problem. We'll try somewhere else.
That's right. ..Hey, there's a man going in your house.
Oh, it's all right. I think it's one of ours. ..Oi!
You can get that lot off out here!
You're not going indoors like that! Did you come straight home? Of course I came straight home!
All right, lads, let's try it here. This is good.
Right. Switch it on to blow.
SUCKER/BLOWER ROARS
AA-AAGH!!
I must send the former Mrs Truelove one of those.
I bet you'd take her back. Never.
Not unless we shared the ironing. I know I'm being hard, but I've had to become like that.
Only half the ironing? Now, that's REALLY hard.
A man of granite, is Truly of the Yard. Of course, he could be lying.