I daren't face the future. My granny could see into the future.
So could your grandad. He ran off and left her.
She used to read tea leaves. We've all got a touch of it.
You've got more than a touch of it.
Horrible, great unseemly lumps of it.
What are you doing hanging behind?
It's only a shirt tail. There's no need to go into detail.
Can't we go another way?
Why do we have to go down Market Street?
We're always going down Market Street.
He's been up to something.
You can tell. What have you done?
Well, I don't want to go by that shop where I get my telly from.
I knew it!
We're having a bit of a barney.
I always used to leave my place open so they could come in and take their telly whenever they wanted.
Well, now I've started locking my place up because the last time they came somebody scratched it.
Well, let's hop on a bus and see old Judd, eh?
It's been nice day really for not going down Market Street.
Well, he looks a bit better but I doubt if he'll see Christmas out.
Not unless things alter.
I told him. Well, that's what friends are for, to cheer you up.
It's no good beating about the bush.
You ought to know, Judd. Is a graphic description of your style of hairdressing.
Well you've kept coming, I notice, a two-mile bus ride.
You're the only one in this district who remembers short hair.
Everyone does teasy-wheezies.
Anyway, he's not complaining.
Not complaining(?) He does nowt else.
I need to with you and your cronies.
When I was at school, his idea of a good morning's walk was right across my pelvis.
We used to get him down and grabbed his yo-yo.
And I used to get it back permanently knotted.
These days my main complaint is against the world in general.
I do not like the way it's going.
Oh, it's terrible!
Mostyn Lightfoot. I beg your pardon.
Who's he when he's at home?
Fell in love with the Huddersfield girls' High School netball team.
All of them? Except the goalie who reminded him of some film star he didn't much care for.
Wallace Beery I think it was.
Otherwise, he couldn't resist the squeak of their little PT shoes on the gym floor.
What has that got to do with the state of the world?
It just goes to illustrate how we make problems for ourselves.
The world is no worse than it ever was except for the Mostyn Lightfoot syndrome. Rubbish!
It's perfectly true. Instead of keeping things simple,
we all have our netball team-sized dreams.
Before you know way you are, you're imagining that you can't live without P Jackson,
M Hepplewhite, RJ Lindlay, AP Broomfleet Jones etc etc.
I never used it any road, except for show. Used what?
My yo-yo.
Oh, give him something to play with Judd, like an open razor.
Just sit still.
Anyway, they can't tell me the world is as quiet as it used to be.
It has always been quiet mainly, especially around here.
Apart from the Danes who came up the rivers to rape our forefathers.
Eh? That doesn't sound right.
Foremothers?
Worse than ever.
So, you see, it must have been our forefathers.
Bloody hell!
No wonder they were regarded with revulsion by the rest of civilised Europe.
They must have shorter back and sides than Judd gives 'ere.
If you lot can get it better than my prices you know where to go.
Ooh hoo hoo!
Tha's has got some right books here.
I've got some right Herberts reading them and all.
It's true, you can tell his literature by the clients that are going about.
Footballing sex maniacs.
The main attraction here is my conversation.
Aye, about who dropped dead last week.
Adrian Poskitt. Serves me right.
You remember him. Have you got a light, Clegg?
Do they really all just fall or do sometimes give them a push?
Poskitts of Arthron Street.
Don't you know anybody what is well?
He knows them, he just won't talk about them.
Well, that's not news, is it?
Here, kindly don't distract him!
I want his full attention while he negotiates this task.
I should have it shaved off. Another thing.
Why do you allow the scruffs into your establishment?
Fancy having that above your top lip. Like a hedgehog's bum.
I do admire the country lover's close observation of nature
but you must have been at a funny angle to pick that titbit up.
In the trade it is known as distinguished.
Quite a lot of my customers these days have a moustache.
It doesn't stop them dropping like flies, though, does it?
Like I told you, Adrian Poskitt.
We don't just come in here for the haircut.
You're always good for a laugh.
Listen, he went out Wednesday morning right as rain.
Round about dinner-time he went off just like that.
Just like that?
What were wrong with him?
Closing his legs too rapidly.
Heart.
Oh, they always say heart. It means they're not sure.
They're happier with a more positive diagnosis like finding the deceased under a bus.
It must have been his heart.
Cor! This bunch got heart.
Look at this!
That's almost exactly the way that we used to carry two rolls
of lino while I was in fixtures and fittings.
She's German.
Oh, well. In that case, they'll be rockets or something.
You have to admire them Germans. You have to admire this one!
10 a penny they were just after the war in Berlin.
Germans in Berlin! That's unusual.
Like her. Like her?
Yeah, I'm telling you.
A very good opponent, the average German soldier.
Tha's never been near one like that, lad, I'm telling you.
In 1945, her sort was going for five Woodbines.
Don't give me that gubbins.
I'm telling you.
How come all our kid come back with was three wrist watches and a camera?
That's a good point. And when it came to listing his hobbies
you'd go a long way before you came to photography or telling the time.
Have another look at that photograph and ask yourself, would she really have fitted into his way of life?
Not to mention his kitbag.
He could have married her or summat?
It was usually or summat.
You don't marry that sort.
You should have seen what he did marry. Pah!
What about your missus?
Now, look, she may not be glamorous...
All right, she's more what you would call horrible, but
we've been all right.
Want a bit of cream on?
What was Judd doing in Berlin then?
Armoured division, tanks.
Don't mention it.
The last place you'd expect to find a hairdresser.
What ship do you reckon he's off then?
How's it going, sailor?
Behave. Don't show your breeding.
You wouldn't dare.
They are all the same.
They come and disturb our women but I shall defend Mrs Batty to the last gasp of my wellies.
We shouldn't be here, you and I, Mrs Partridge.
It's not coffee time yet is it Mr Wainwright?
We should be out running barefoot through the grass.
Oh, not with my feet.
We should be out making ancient music together.
I never had to face these violent emotions when I worked for Wheldrake's plumbers.
I'm sure everybody knows.
I'd like the entire world to know.
Don't say that!
Meet husband's sister runs them Tupperware parties.
We are innocent in the eyes of nature.
Nobody comes out unscathed from those things.
We are free modern spirits, Mrs Partridge. Today's people.
Ours is a mingling of creative souls.
Well, I can't deny that there is an affinity between us, Mr Wainwright.
There's this damn desk between us, Mrs Partridge.
It says here that they were hanging people for being evil spirits
as late as the 18th century.
People had to make their own entertainment in those days.
Here, I knew this fella.
Substantial person, shares in Amalgamated Dairies,
always kept a current copy of Glass's guide to the motor trade.
Knew a French way with fish.
Whatever will they think of next?
I know rich people aren't popular but when he was killed
in that light aeroplane crash,
there wasn't a peep out of anybody wanting a share of that.
He left £112,000.
It's always the little things you remember.
Given a dry summer that year, I might have married his daughter.
As it was, we quarrelled bitterly during that cold front from Iceland.
You ought to have stayed around here, married some local lass
and suffered like the rest of us.
I don't care where you go,
this is God's number one area for unpleasant women of strong character.
Just what a man needs.
It's the toughest training in the world.
It breeds a sort of matrimonial Guards Division, wedlock's finest.
What about two hearts beating as one and all that?
Well, that happens in its own way, when you lie there night after night,
separated only by a few simple garments of thick flannelette.
Providing it's summer, of course.
Where did you meet Mrs Clegg?
It was at a chapel tea.
I asked for cream but she converted me to custard.
Afterwards, during the hymns, I felt her take hold of my arm
and all of the sudden I knew it was no good trying to sneak out to the pub.
What a rotten thing to do! I had to pay my own bus fare.
Just look at it. I don't know.
Every time I raise my eyes these days, he's in my line of vision.
It's no use fighting against it, I know deep down tha fancies me.
I've got strong masculine appeal.
It's very strong on damp days and in poorly ventilated places.
Now then, cheeky, what do you know about my poorly ventilated places?
You see, you can't insult him.
He keeps appearing as if he's rubbed some tatty lamp.
You can't make a fool of him either.
Give us a kiss.
Do you think he's real, or do you think is one of them evil spirits?
He's got wicked little eyes. Piercing.
That's what they are, piercing.
Little pointed hat. It all fits if you see what I mean.
His mother looked the part and his granny used to read tea leaves.
She had to, she could read owt else.
Diabolical manifestation. Eh?
Witches, familiars and the like who take human form
for the confusion and peril of Christian souls.
That's him!
What we've got to do is give him the supernatural attribute test.
No, I can't be an evil spirit.
If I were, I should just give three flicks of my magic wand and you'd both be turned into stone.
I think one flick of yours would be enough.
It says there that diabolicals... Pardon?
Diabolicals have places where they can't feel pain.
Between his ears.
What we've got to do is turn him upside down and shake it out.
But then all the blood will rush to my head.
You can catch it in your hat.
Down you go.
Me eyeballs are falling out.
I haven't been in this state since I were at Dougie's wedding.
I knew tha'd get us thrown out, holding me upside-down.
It was done in a detached spirit of scientific inquiry.
You'd think that a librarian would appreciate things like that.
Had you been able to defy the forces of gravity for as long as you defied the forces of hygiene...
Get stuffed. You would have been an evil spirit like your granny.
There were no need to drop me on my skull.
But it proved your innocence.
Now you're just foul, not diabolically foul.
Shop!
Come on, let's have some service.
Wait a minute. Is your vest on fire or something?
I'll bet she wears a pointed hat.
I'll bet she's out there now stirring her cauldron. Oh.
There's a witch if ever I saw one.
Bit of a load for a broomstick, isn't she?
Ah, but cuddly with it.
Just imagine having all that and a touch of...
# The old black magic...
# The old black magic... #
Shop! Belt up.
Oh, sit down you looney pillock.
No, leave him. I think it's interesting.
The courtship dance of the lesser spotted Herbert.
In a minute he'll start building his nest, a simple structure
of mattress fluff and old sporting chronicles.
Have you done with them taters? I'm just finishing them. Well, come over here where I can see you.
Oh, give your chin a rest, will you?
SHOUTS: Don't raise your voice!
Oh, it must have been a voice like that
that provided the inspiration for the Spinal tap.
My key! I lost my key,
it must have fell out when you were dangling me upside down.
What key? The key to my front door.
When d'you ever lock your door?
I told you they've come to take my telly back and John Wayne's on on Wednesday.
I don't know why you don't go watch it in the shop.
It's there more often than your place.
I'm locked out now.
You'd better hurry, the library closes in ten minutes.
Ah, come on.
There's the money for your bun. Ta-ra, Sid.
Hey, when you've done that you can get over to Harkison's
to fetch them crisps. What to the other side of town?
Why don't you just shout a bit louder they'll bring them round for you.
Right, what can I get for you, lads?
Hey, Fanny Craddock! What?
You were right when you said the customers couldn't wait to try your homemade buns!
Why didn't you look after it, you dozy pleb?
Well, it were you that were holding me upside down.
Are you sure it's in the library?
It must be. Didn't you hear it drop?
I heard nowt but the crunch of my skull.
Sorry about that, but don't think it was any picnic at the other end when your wellies slipped off.
We'll have to find Wainwright then.
Where does he live? Top end somewhere.
Doesn't exactly pinpoint it does it?
How the hell should I know where Wainwright lives?
You can see he's basically aggressive.
You great gormless twit.
That's exactly the sort of primitive attitude that he used to make school play times unbearable with.
He could never stand the sight of blood.
And it was always mine.
It was like having Genghis Khan for milk monitor.
I know where she lives.
Genghis Khan was a lady? I never knew that.
No, her what works in there.
Wainwright's fancy bit. She'll know where he lives.
Well, come on then.
Oh.
Charming.
It's you, you scruffy twallop.
We should have known better than to bring him to a residential area.
Why? What's wrong with me? It's nothing personal, it's just that you're ugly and repulsive.
Oh. I'd sooner forget when his wellies came off.
Talk about traumatic. I went through Normandy without a scratch but his feet are something else.
It's not him she's worried about, it's all of us.
I'm sure it never is. Because we know about her and Wainwright.
She's embarrassed, poor lass.
I should think tha did go through Normandy without a scratch, you didn't get there till 1960.
Rubbish. I would lead us into the battlefield. She thinks we've come to cause bother.
Is tha mam in?
Excuse me, young man. Could we possibly have a word with your mother?
He sounds just like an insurance man. What are you trying to do?
Wreck a happy home? He's only 12.
I wonder if you could... He's never been strong.
Everything's always gone straight to his chest. Oh, don't fret, Mrs.
We only come about Mr Wainwright. Ah!
Have you got any more little goodies in your diplomatic bag?
Come on, let's try the police station.
Hey up, I may not be tactful but they can't lock me up for it.
He conceived the bold idea of asking Nora Fogarty for a lift...of her skirt.
It put an end to those rumours as to what she had printed on her underwear,
some said it was the device of the Egg Marketing Board.
Whatever it was, it set him off on the wrong foot.
He developed this penchant for funny women and was last seen loitering sadly outside Sugden's chemist.
Do I have to go in there? You should be more at home than any of us.
Your family were nearly brought up here. Come on.
Hello, it's the general public.
A peaceful demonstration?
Good evening, officer.
Creeper.
Good evening, gentlemen.
All right, Simmonite, you can smoke if you want.
Well, it's just a quick puff.
It'll have to be in here, the inspector won't stand for it.
Don't you like the inspector?
He's all right but his cap's always full of ash.
A very narrow-minded man, the inspector.
Rugby Union.
Now then, you three, on your travels have you been anywhere near Markham's Yard?
No. Can't say we have.
So, you haven't seen anybody loitering furtively?
Somebody's been nicking his eggs.
Malcolm lays eggs? I never knew that.
He's got white leghorns.
We will have, won't he, if he lays eggs?
Still got your ferrets, have you?
Oh, aye, just for sentimental reasons.
I know, they used to be more Simmonite's down rabbit holes then there were above ground,
I'm surprised more of you survived that myxomatosis.
Well, then, what is it?
Oh, well, you see he's left his house key at the library and they've all gone home.
And we're looking for the address of the librarian.
They had me upside down.
Was there any improvement? And then he thrown us out.
What's his name? Bloody Wainwright.
Wainwright, B.
All right, we'll have a look in the electoral register.
Here we are, W.
Warrington, Wagstaff, Wainwright B, Mrs.
That sounds like him.
GA, Mr, 10 Westlake Gardens.
GA, that rings a bell, thank you officer. Come on.
Hey, you, how's your Eric?
He's champion. Tell him we still miss him in court.
Ah, yeah, well it wasn't his fault. So he tried to explain.
Well, can you find your way to West Lake Gardens?
Oh, aye, I'm like a homing pigeon.
Short, bandy legs. Oh, no I'm not bandy.
My wellies are bent!
Is there anything else?
Ah, they dropped me on my skull.
Ah, the simple pleasures of the poor.
Come on. What? Thank you officer, thank you. Night, night.
I get this buzzing in my ears.
We do not wish to hear that. It interferes with my telly.
We have a profound non interest in all your unseemly personal experiences.
I wonder why Wainwright spends all his time here, old-time dancing.
They say he discovered a passion for it
as soon as he found it was dear to the heart
of the chairman of the library committee.
Here, come away, they'll think it's the Danes back again.
Here, Charlie Harris is tearing the tickets.
Oh, that's useful, he's a pain in the buttocks at the best of times.
You can't come in here without a tie.
Get off. Get him off, what's he doing?
Hey, I've always wanted a dress jacket like that. This colour.
How many colours do you think they've got?
It's alright if you've got the figure for it.
And how are you going to get hold of patent leather wellies?
By the straps at the top!
I shall have to ask you to leave. Oh, come on Charlie, don't forget we've known you
since you had gravy down your tie, the same as anybody else.
This is the bi-weekly formal function of the old-time dancing fellowship.
No admittance without a ticket.
Charlie, this is us, come off your pedestal.
Don't forget that we've heard you making rude imitation posterior
noises for the amusement of the Conservative Club Committee.
And your Eileen had to get married.
Oh, look, we only want to speak to Wainwright. We won't be a minute.
Aye, I know. And the moment I turn my back you'll be chomping your way through the cold buffet.
What is it? It's chicken. Oh!
Never you mind, what it is!
It's 15 new pence and you couldn't get in any way in that state.
What state? What's wrong with me?
Suppose he dresses like that
because he's an eccentric millionaire with interests in uranium and hedgehogs spotting?
We're stuck with him you see and we don't mind sharing him about a bit.
He's not wearing a tie!
Oh, then show me the rules, shagbasket.
Show me the rule that says where I've got to wear it.
THEY ALL SHOUT AT ONCE
Hello, Sid, I wouldn't go in there.
Come on, you. Hey.
Hey, you.
Where the hell do you keep running off to? Well, I need a pint, don't I?
You need smaller feet.
No wonder them shoes have lasted you, you do most of your dancing on mine.
Well, I get dizzy.
It's this sense of power actually being allowed to leave.
Oh, hurry up and get your pint, I want some foot work from you from you
and after that you can partner Mrs Morris in the Dashing White Sergeant.
Oh, my God, talk about the nucleus for a firing squad.
Look, I came here to do some dancing.
Fat chance with you, though. You can't even hold me properly.
Put your neck in there.
You could see his mother every morning taking the milkman in.
At one time there was three of them living off this wild, uncultivated stretch of Seaforth Highlander.
Keep his noise down. We've done last three dances to the beat of him crunching lettuce.
Sydney you're a gentleman.
Very true. And don't worry about the bones. I'm sure Simmonite will cope with them.
Right. Oh, by the way, there you are.
I wish I could stay with you and make a four up for solo, but she'll be looking for me.
Her and Mrs Morris have got radar.
Here, where's Wainwright?
He's here, he's creeping round the councillors.
No rush, we'll grab him when he comes out.
Anyway I can climb in my back window like we did here. Now he tells us!
Having dragged us all over town for his damn, blasted key.
Well, it was you that made me lose it.
Oh, you potty little Herbert.
The cat told them. The cat told them?
Saved them from the fire, woke 'em up pulling at the bed clothes.
Clever. What did he give it for that?
He give it what any self-respecting bloke would have given it, a clout round the feline earhole.
He didn't know the house was on fire.
I bet he thought the cat were on fire.
They sometimes give that impression, cats.
We had one down in the cookhouse during the war.
I think it were German.
At any road it never appeared to be on our side.
Come to think of it, neither did the cooks.
We had won at Cirencester, caught its tail in a fire bucket handle.
What was the cook doing with his tail in the fire bucket handle?
A cat, you twillock!
Middle of the night, pitch black, there it were, howling and spitting.
Sounds like your Eric.
It were a helluva job getting it loose. But we did it.
Everybody loved that cat, it peed all over the lance corporal.
He come from Luton.
I think that's terrible.
Oh no, we washed it all out, eventually.
Not that, coming from Luton.
I don't like playing with marked cards.
Them cards are not marked.
The ones you've handled all are.
Bits of lettuce, smudges of chicken, and I don't know what.
Oh, come on, let's play.
Gherkins are trumps.
Past my bedtime. What's thou bothering for if the Russians are coming?
You'll see, I bet they're all at it this very minute. Learning English.
Well that's not going to do them a lot of good around here, is it?
If it isn't them, it'll be the Chinese. 700 million of them.
If they don't wear ties, they'll never get past Charlie Harris.