The Arrival The Indian Doctor

MUSIC: "Halfway To Paradise" by Billy Fury

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure you're wondering why I've summoned you here on your day off!

I have some news of vital importance to the town, and we've also got a film.

What's the film?

The Millionairess... with Sophia Loren.

Not to mention some very fine refreshments, courtesy of my good lady wife.

As you know the village is currently without a doctor.

Not any more it isn't!

And, as I'm sure he's told you, Mr Griffiths decided to take the matter into his own hands.

I did it with the assistance of my brothers in the National Union of Mineworkers!

..The services of a first-rate doctor.

How many more trains do we have to catch?

This is the last one.

And then what? An ox cart? A dog sled over the mountains?

This is Wales, Kamini, it's not the Himalayas!

-It's not Harley Street either, is it?

-I think it's rather beautiful.

It reminds me of...

..Mussoorie in the summertime.

Mussoorie?

Before the film, we're going to show a public information film from the Ministry of Health.

Bloody Tory propaganda!

-Both the newsreel and the film...

-Put it on!

-..Will give us valuable cultural insights

about our new GP.

Regardless of the differences we will undoubtedly have

with our new doctor,

it behoves us to welcome him with open arms.

Thank you.

Let's welcome Sophia with open arms!

I'd like to get my arms around her!

Enough! If you want to stay, we'll have none of that. There are ladies here.

'To meet the growing needs of the NHS, the Minister of Health, Enoch Powell,

'has announced a Government drive to recruit the very best and brightest doctors

'from the Asian subcontinent...'

'Many of India's doctors respond to Mr Powell's warm invitation

'with eager enthusiasm, impressed with the spirit of modern efficiency and friendly cooperation

'they find everywhere in our splendid National Health Service. They can't wait to come and lend a hand.'

Elwyn said he would be here.

Well, he isn't, is he?

-Something must've happened.

-There's a surprise!

Quiet. It's not the end of the world.

You could have fooled me.

-We can walk!

-Walk?

Fresh air!

It will do you good.

What do you think I am, a donkey?

I don't want some darkie looking after my kids!

What difference does it make? One doctor is better than none!

I, for one, think we should welcome this new doctor with open arms.

The internationalist tradition runs deep in the blood of us, the South Wales miners!

We have always supported the workers of the world, regardless of the colour of their skin.

We have stood shoulder to shoulder with our brothers in South Africa, in Spain...

and now we have the chance...

..to show our solidarity with the working men and women of India!

As that great Socialist Mahatma Gandhi said...

Oh, do give over!

That's right, make fun of us! You think you're so much better than us,

-you and your fascist husband!

-Sit down, Griffiths.

Just put the film on!

Good day, gentlemen.

Could you tell us where we could find Dr Elwyn Thomas?

Up there?

In the graveyard.

He's dead.

That would account for him not meeting us, then.

-They're all in there.

-Thank you.

'I bet you inspire confidence as a doctor.

'Examine me, thoroughly!

'If I examined all the ladies in whom I inspired confidence, I should be exhausted within one week!

-'Well, reserve yourself exclusively for me.

-I have to reserve myself for the poor and useful people.

-'Kindly get dressed.

-Why can't I be your patient?

'You come stalking in here as if you're God's gift to hospitals...'

Hello.

I'm Prem Sharma...

..your...

..your new doctor.

Dr Sharma, Owen Griffiths.

It's a great honour to meet you, and may I extend a warm welcome to the Valleys?

-Thank you.

-Richard Sharpe, local colliery manager.

-Very pleased to meet you.

-We weren't expecting you till next week.

-Sorry.

-No, it's fine.

-Typical unions! Can't organise anything!

-You're the new doctor?

-Yes.

-You've come all the way from India?

-Yes.

-And this is your good lady wife?

-Did you come by boat?

-Yes.

-How long did that take you, then?

I'm sure the good doctor isn't interested in your silly questions.

-No, I don't mind, really...

-Comrades, the doctor's just arrived.

The first thing to do is to take you to the surgery.

-I've been under the doctor with my back for ages.

-I'm sorry?

What can you give me for wind?

You go on ahead and open up.

-Try to find Dr Elwyn's diary.

-What?

-His green leather diary, it's somewhere in the surgery.

-How will I know it when I see it?

-Well, if it's green and it's leather and it looks like a diary...

-OK...

-Sylvia, it's not that difficult!

My sister's got bunions!

Come on! What kind of a welcome do you call this? Give the man a chance.

He hasn't come halfway round the world to be mithered by you lot!

Right! Where are your bags?

-Outside.

-Bryn, Howard, Albert, fetch the doctor's bags, please.

Doctor.

Excuse me. Thank you.

You'll find the locals an odd bunch,

a strange mixture of noisy Bolshevism and ignorant superstition.

They're mostly harmless, but if you have any trouble, just let me know.

-I was very sorry to hear about Elwyn.

-Very, very sad...

Not surprising, given his lifestyle.

Unreliable!

No great loss, really.

Well, welcome to your new home.

The flat's upstairs, above the shop, if you like.

Courtesy of the Coal Board. Grace and favour.

Come on now, boys.

Oh, you'll have to replace this.

It's not exactly top of the range.

I made Dickie buy me a Creda. They're expensive but worth every penny.

I'm afraid he did like his pipe, Dr Elwyn.

Smelly old thing it was too.

Everything needs a jolly good clean.

We'll have the rest of the old doctor's things taken away tomorrow. Caught us on the hop!

We'll leave you to get settled in.

- We don't want to settle in! - What?

The whole thing's been a ghastly mistake. We're not staying.

We can handle it from here, we're just tired from the journey.

Don't worry about the diary, Dickie, they're going to be leaving anyway.

It would be a good idea if they did.

The last thing I need is another doctor poking around, stirring things up.

They only just got off the boat, Dickie, how much trouble can they cause?

MAN BREATHES WITH DIFFICULTY

Why can't we have a Welsh doctor?

-What's an Indian going to know about miners?

-We could always carry on with Dr Morgan.

-It's a long way to go...

-At least he's Welsh.

And he looked after my mam...

so he can look after my dad.

It was your idea to come here!

No, it was my idea that we should go to London, Manchester, even!

-Somewhere with at least a passing acquaintance with civilisation!

-Don't exaggerate.

-I'm not.

Well, we're here, so why don't we just make the best of it?

-I'm not staying here.

-Well, I can see that you've given it a fair chance.

-Did you see the way they looked at us?

-I saw the way you looked at them.

They're peasants, Prem. I'll contact Daddy's friend first thing in the morning.

-Where are you going?

-I'm going to sleep in that revolting excuse for a bed.

But we haven't eaten in hours.

What do you expect me to do? Cook?

FOOTSTEPS

Can't you just feel the generations of families that have passed through this room?

It's not that bad!

-Once we get it cleaned up...

-I meant what I said last night. I'm not staying here.

Why not?

Because it's disgusting...

because the people are appalling,

and because you're too good a doctor to bury yourself in this backwater nightmare!

Does it really matter where we are?

It matters a great deal.

DOOR CLOSES

Oh! Sorry. You frightened me.

I didn't expect you to be down so early. Dr Elwyn never was, he liked his lie-ins, he did.

-I'm sorry, who are you?

-Of course, you don't even know who I am.

I'm Gina Nicolli. I was Dr Elwyn's receptionist and sort of Girl Friday.

I was hoping I could carry on with you...

..I mean, be your receptionist. I mean, if that's all right, if you want me to.

-Well...

-I've worked here for ages and I know the job backwards and I know everything about everybody.

-Then how can I afford to be without you?

-You can start by making tea!

Good morning.

All the time I worked for Dr Elwyn, I never came up here, not once.

My nan would've been shocked if I had, she didn't really trust Dr Elwyn.

Where did you get this?

India.

It smells lovely. What is it?

DOOR CLOSES My favourite chai.

It's a type of tea, then, is it, chai?

-It is so quiet here.

-It's not quiet, it's dead!

-I wonder if we'll have any patients.

-Here I am going on! It's almost time to open up!

It's OK, I already have.

Oh, no!

The surgery will not open till nine o'clock. Sit down!

I told you they'd take advantage.

-Where have they all come from?

-They haven't had a doctor since Dr Elwyn died.

-But so many?

-Oh, no, they're not all sick.

-Aren't they?

-No, most are just nosy!

I've this terrible problem with my lugs.

Ah? If you would care to remove your trousers...

It's...

..it's my bo-wels!

I...I had a nasty bump at work a while back and it keeps giving me gyp...

chronically, sometimes.

Bowels!

You want me to remove my trousers?

I can't go!

Awfully strung all the time I am, totally wound up by teatime!

No, no, no, lugs, man, ears, lugholes!

Not legs!

Not...not the trouser area.

I need the opening medicine

to make me go!

Sometimes I feel all right, but I've got this chronic thing and I don't even know what I'm doing...

Excuse me.

Gina? Gina...

I think he's speaking Welsh.

-Aled Hughes, how did you get in here? Out!

-I needed to see the doctor.

There's nothing wrong with you, there never is! Go, and don't come back!

He only wants a sick note for work, he's terrible like that.

And was he speaking Welsh?

-Aled? No, he's far too lazy.

-I see. I hope they're not all like that.

They won't be.

They better not be.

-I need the girl to send a telegram for me.

-The girl?

-Why?

-I don't know where the Post Office is.

-No, why are you sending a telegram?

-We've been through this.

-It's not going to make any difference.

-Then it won't make any difference if I send it.

-Fine!

Tell them there will be a reply.

-Gina?

-Can't stop, Nan, I've got to send a telegram.

-A telegram? For the new doctor?

-His wife.

-She's trying to get him a job in London.

-But they've only just got here.

-Right stuck-up one she is.

-Really?

-He's lovely, though.

-What do you mean, lovely?

-I mean he's lovely.

-He's not getting fresh, is he?

-No.

-You have to watch those people,

-they're very hot-blooded.

-You think everyone's hot-blooded, Nan!

-Well... I'll pop in later, see for myself.

-Don't now.

-Why not?

-There's nothing wrong with you. It's bad enough everyone else wasting his time.

I've as much right to see him as anyone else!

The girl's just stepped out on an errand but she won't be long. I'll have her fetch us tea.

That's all right, I just popped round to ask you and Dr Sharma to dinner on Saturday.

Dickie thought we should all get to know one another, because of his position in the village.

-His position?

-He runs the mine.

-For the Coal Board.

-I see.

-Well, we may well be in London by Saturday, but if we aren't...

-London?

Yes, but if we are still here, I'm sure we'd love to come.

-Ah, here's the girl! Did you send it?

-Yes.

-Did you tell them I wanted the reply sent straight over?

-Yes.

Good. Mrs Sharpe and I would like tea in the sitting room.

-Come.

-If you want tea, you can make it yourself.

-I'm sorry?

-I'm a receptionist, not a tea lady.

I must run.

I see.

Right...

Now... do you get stomach pains often?

They come and go.

And how painful are they? Very painful, moderate, just a little bit?

Hard to say.

The thing is, a friend of mine had something similar.

They took her into the hospital. She's had it all taken away now.

Taken away?

Ah, a hysterectomy? She had her womb removed.

Oh, yes, took it right out, they did. Now she doesn't know where she is. Afraid to sneeze half the time!

Poor dab, never had kids neither! Tragic!

Well, there's no danger of that. You're too young. I can do some tests, but it's probably heartburn.

How old do you think I am?

I don't know...er...

Oh, my!

-I'd never have guessed that.

-Don't you try to flatter me, young man!

I wouldn't dream of it!

You know, I have an excellent remedy for heartburn. Cardamom, ground ginger,

aniseed, black pepper, hot water...

Or I can get you some tablets.

I think I'll take the tablets.

If you're worried about anything, anything at all, just come and see me, even if it's for a chat.

-Thank you.

-Nan!

I've got pains.

-I have!

-Nothing to worry about, I'm sure.

-Thank you, Doctor.

-Sweet lady.

-Mmm!

-Just one more box, Doc.

-Thank you.

Well...

our first day of surgery.

I don't think I could have managed it without you.

You're nothing like I thought you'd be.

-People rarely are.

-Can I just ask you something?

What is it like where you come from, your village?

-My village?

-In India?

It's...

nothing like this place!

Thruppence, makes sixpence.

-Thanks very much.

-Good evening.

Good evening, Doctor.

Hello.

Hello.

-We met yesterday at the Institute.

-Don't forget this.

-It's for her husband, he's not been well.

-Nothing serious, I hope?

Well, yes, he's bedridden.

Oh, dear! Would you like me to take a look at him? I could make him my first house call.

No...

we've talked about it...but he feels he doesn't want to...er...

He's been seeing Dr Morgan from Trebanog, down the valley.

I see.

Not that there's anything wrong with you, mind.

I'm sure you're very...

It's just that he's been bad a long time and he doesn't want to keep chopping and changing doctors.

I must go. I'm late.

Evening, Doctor.

Mr Griffiths.

20 Senior Service.

Fancy a quick one?

-A drink?

-Oh! Yes, very good.

Just the tomatoes, please.

MUSIC: "C'mon Everybody" by Eddie Cochran

-Now what?

-You're the cook.

-I don't know anything about Indian food.

-I don't know anything about food!

PUB HUBBUB

Dr Sharma, over here!

-Let's try some of that.

-Which one?

-That one.

Mmm...

put some green in.

-Is it all right?

-I'm sorry?

The beer?

Oh, yes. Very tasty. What's it called again?

Rhymney Bitter, the wine of the Valleys!

-Well, you've certainly got a taste for it.

-Best beer in Wales!

I don't think I've ever seen anyone drink so fast or so much.

You're in Wales!

And I'm a lightweight compared to some.

I'm a Division-Three man when it comes to the drink!

You have amazing tolerance.

-Do you really mean that?

-Well, yes, from what I've seen.

-Coming from an Indian, that's praise indeed!

Tolerance and passive resistance, the two greatest weapons in the class struggle!

And it took an Indian, Gandhi, one of the greatest Socialists of all time, to teach us that!

Gandhi could only come from India.

Beautiful country!

Beautiful people.

Thank you.

Non-violent resistance, it's at the heart of your religion,

-of your culture, the fabric of your society...

-Well, I'm not sure if...

That's how they were able to knock six bells out of the English and send them packing!

Gandhi was a wonderful man,

but I'm not sure if his teachings have had that much influence on the Indians of today.

-Really?

-Er...I'm afraid so.

Is that why you left?

Oh, it was my wife's idea to leave India.

Your round.

My round what?

Oh, a round of Rhymneys?

Right, who wants to lose his money, eh?

Not with him!

Two pints...one and a half pints of Rhymney's, please.

'Dr Sharma is my guest.'

You'll make him welcome or you and I are going outside!

-Mmm!

-Mmm...

-That's the first meal I've ever cooked.

-You did really well.

-Are you patronising me?

No, I really mean it.

-Kamini...

-Perfect timing!

Wh...? Gina, what are you doing here?

Me and Mrs Sharma have been cooking.

Well, then, you must join us for the inaugural feast.

I got tomatoes...in a tin!

-Actually, my nan's expecting me, so I should be going.

-Nonsense! You're our first guest!

-It'll be bad luck if you don't stay.

-The girl said she has to go.

Well, I'll see you tomorrow.

You're drunk.

I've had a drink or two.

Getting drunk won't solve any of our problems.

-I wasn't trying to solve them, I was trying to forget them.

-I hate seeing you do this to yourself.

-Do what? What am I doing?

-Running away.

-I'm not running away.

-You are. You've been like this ever since Rani died.

This has nothing to do with Rani.

It has everything to do with Rani. I am not going to let you bury yourself in a dead-end job like this!

You need a challenging job, something that will pull you out of yourself.

I had a challenging job in India, that's why she died!

-That is not why Rani died.

-I wasn't there when she needed me.

Sit down.

I'm not hungry.

Oh...Megan!

-Megan!

-Don't look round, just keep walking.

Megan!

Oh, Mrs Sharpe, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you.

I need you to serve dinner for us on Saturday night.

I'm doing an Indian meal for the new doctor and his wife, and I want everything to be perfect.

I'll pay you, of course.

-I don't know.

-8 shillings.

-I don't like to leave Gareth.

-10?

-He's been so poorly.

-12/6!

-Cash in advance?

Six o'clock...sharp.

Don't be late.

Goodbye.

-I thought you said you weren't going to work for her again.

-I'd rather chew razor blades.

But now you can buy yourself a birthday present.

-It's six weeks till my birthday.

-So?

Your mummy says that monsters come into your room at night.

Mmm...and they wake you up and make you cry?

Monsters...mmm...

monsters...monsters...monsters...

monsters... Ah!

I think there is something we can do.

Now this... is a powerful magical stick.

-What does it do?

-You keep it under your pillow

and when the monsters come, you hold it tightly and you close your eyes and say this magical Indian word,

mukdhi!

Mukdhi!

That's fantastic!

Night terrors are very common. Usually, they just go away by themselves.

Thank you. Have you got any children?

No.

Any other troubles, do come back.

-Why isn't that boy in school?

-Oh, he's always mitching, that one.

He can't stay five minutes out of trouble.

-Nan, this is Mrs Sharma, Dr Sharma's wife.

-Oh, well, nice to meet you, Mrs Sharma.

I saw your husband yesterday. Lovely, lovely man!

-Shocking the way some people are with him.

-What d'you mean?

Well, that Megan Evans was in yesterday. Dr Sharma offered to go round and see her Gareth,

nice as pie he was, and then she told him she didn't want his sort going anywhere near her husband.

Said it right to his face she did! I thought it was best you knew, in case you run into her.

But not to worry, my love.

Megan? I can't believe that.

Most people think it's wonderful him being here, and you.

Some people, though, too small-minded for their own good, aren't they?

-But he is good.

-What?

-Empties?

-Who?

-The doctor?

-I didn't say he wasn't. What are you...?

-Oh! What's the point?

-Ta.

Tom?

-Friend of yours?

-No...

he doesn't even know I exist.

Maybe you should let him know.

Life's too short to worry about what people think. If you want something, you have to go out and get it!

Right, Mrs Sharma... how can I help you?

I had to try every shop in Pontypridd to find all this.

-It doesn't look very authentic to me.

-Yes, it it. Look...

"Authentic Indian cuisine". And when you serve it, it has to look exactly like that.

-This one's Chinese.

-No, it's not.

"Traditional Chinese noodles in a peanut sauce".

How did that get in there? Never mind. Once it's all mashed up, they'll never know the difference.

Have you got my paper?

I don't see why we have to make such a fuss.

We're not making a fuss.

Oh! Oh, no!

What if they want to sit on cushions?

Why on earth would they want to sit on cushions?

-Because that's what they do, it's their culture.

-They'll sit up at table like good Christians!

We want them to feel at home, Dickie.

They're not at home. They're in Britain.

And I am not sitting on a poxy cushion!

Is it true that woman won't let you treat her husband because you're Indian?

She said she wants to stick with her own doctor.

So this isn't just an ignorant backwater, it's an ignorant bigoted backwater?

-You have to let people make their own choices, Kamini.

-You won't be treated like this in London.

If we go to London.

I can't believe you're thinking of staying.

Gina showed me round the village. It's like Panipat without the cows.

If we're going to this dinner, you should get ready.

We don't want to get off on the wrong foot.

-I don't want to get off on any foot! That's why I sent the telegram.

-I could always go on my own!

-I'll go!

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes! You have never got ready in ten minutes! Not once in all...

Pickles.

Peanuts.

Cheese and ham.

They're American.

Kamini...

Thank you.

Dr Sharma...sherry?

Lovely, thank you.

So, how are you settling in?

Very well, thank you.

Good, good.

I expect Dr Elwyn sent you lots of little notes, instructions, tips...that sort of thing.

-Did he?

-No.

He didn't send you any details, any information before you arrived?

None at all. He said he would meet us at the station and that was it.

How unfortunate!

-It's fine, actually. His assistant seems to know everything.

-His assistant?

-Gina Nicolli.

-Ah, yes.

Sweet girl.

Not very bright.

I beg to differ. I'm beginning to think she could run the surgery all by herself.

Maraschino?

MUSIC: "What Do You Want" by Adam Faith

You ordered this.

It's the new Adam Faith record.

Mind if I come in?

Er...yeah...yeah.

Tommy Steele always had a bit of a thing for me. He was a terrible flirt.

Such a lovely man.

Do you mind sitting on chairs?

-No.

-Chairs would be fine.

-See? I said they wouldn't mind.

Mrs Sharma.

So...Mrs Sharma, how are you getting on in your little kitchen?

It's a complete mystery to me.

What do you do out in India?

Some kind of open-hearth system?

-For what?

-How do you cook?

-I don't.

-You don't cook?

-No.

Oh, dear!

Who does, then?

The servants, that's what they're for. Thank you.

-You have servants?

-Of course.

To do the cooking.

The cooking, the cleaning, everything, really.

How many servants have you got?

Oh, I have no idea. Ten...twelve... Prem?

Er...something like that, yes.

Isn't your dad upstairs?

SONG STARTS

-# Every time that we meet

-Ooh-ooh-ah

-# She looks my way

-Ooh-ooh-ah

-# Then she's off down the street

-Ooh-ooh

# But I want her to stay

-# Is it love?

-I don't know

-# That you feel?

-I don't know

-# Is it love?

-I don't know

-# Is it real?

-I don't know

# Cos it's the first time

# I've felt this way... #

Chicken curry with noodles...

..in a peanut sauce.

With the bungalow and the stream running down to the lake, the house was always full of guests.

-Lady Mountbatten used to bring all her friends.

-Lady Mountbatten?

-She and Mummy served together in the St John's Ambulance during Partition.

-THE Lady Mountbatten?

It was a very difficult time for both of them.

It was a very difficult time for everybody.

Did you know the Mountbattens well?

Yes, we used to summer with them at Shimla.

-You're a Dick, aren't you?

-I beg your pardon?

-Or a Dickie?

-Richard.

-Lord Mountbatten's real name was Louis, but for some reason everyone always called him Dickie.

# ..I've felt this way... #

-Do you want me to play it again?

-No.

So is it a good university, Delhi?

-It's the best in the country.

-I don't know about that.

-There's Bombay, Calcutta, Aligarh...

-You're being modest. Delhi is much more prestigious.

-Hmm.

Perhaps.

Where did you study, Mr Sharpe?

-Kidderminster.

-It was a grammar school.

Oh, that's...that's nice.

I can't believe I've never noticed how gorgeous you are.

Maybe you just never looked.

FATHER COUGHS UPSTAIRS I always thought of you as a kid.

Well, I'm not. I'm quite grown-up.

You are!

< Tom! COUGHING

Dad...

Coming!

Thank you.

So...London?

-Mmm... I'm quite surprised I haven't heard back from Mr Powell.

-Powell?

-Enoch Powell?

-Yes. Do you know him? He's an acquaintance of Daddy's.

No, I haven't actually met him.

-I can certainly understand why you'd want to be in London.

-Mmm.

I know we do.

As soon as my next promotion comes through,

we won't waste a second getting out of this wretched place!

I like it here.

Wait till you've been here a few months.

Horrible place, horrible people.

-Everybody's been very nice to us.

-Give it time.

KNOCKING

Can't think who that'd be.

Excuse me.

I do apologise for the dinner.

Unfortunately the help isn't up to cooking with quality ingredients.

Tom?

It's Dad.

I think he's dying.

Excuse me.

No, no.

-Hold this here, please.

-Yes, Doctor.

SHE SPEAKS WELSH

Excuse me.

I have to give him an injection in his thigh.

Tom... Tom!

Thank you.

We have to get him to a hospital.

An ambulance, please. Please!

SHE SPEAKS WELSH

His condition is stable, he's breathing a little easier. They want to keep him in for a few days,

you know, for observation.

Can we see him?

-They're moving him to a ward, but I'm sure you'll be able to see him for a few minutes.

-Thank you.

I should've let you look after him the first time you offered. I'm like everyone else.

I'm frightened of what I don't know.

Yes, I'm feeling that a lot these days.

We're a funny lot, the Welsh, especially in the Valleys.

And as for Trefelin...!

You know what you said at dinner about servants and the Mountbattens, was that true?

Yes...

Really? You should have seen Mrs Sharpe's face!

I did!

Dr Sharma...

back at the house, when you were trying to bring him round...

for a minute, I thought it was all over.

That's completely understandable.

But I was relieved.

You're not shocked?

No.

I am.

What kind of a wife thinks that?

It's not easy looking after someone when you know they're dying.

You don't think I'm horrible?

Of course I don't.

Thank you.

The man has chronic severe emphysema.

The consultant at the hospital feels it may have an impact on his entire immune system.

-He's only 40, he's never smoked.

-I've made you a cup of tea.

-Thank you.

-It's not your problem.

I've had a reply to my telegram.

"London position available. Telephone Ministry to confirm."

It's as good as done. We can leave.

I'm not going to London.

Why not?

Because there are people who need me here.

The whole evening was a total disaster from beginning to end.

Did you believe all that rubbish about her living in a palace?

-I don't know.

-I think she made the whole thing up.

It can't be true.

-Anyway, it doesn't matter.

-It does matter.

The last thing I need is an interfering doctor. And if his wife really does have connections...

They're immigrants, Dickie! No-one's going to take them seriously.

There was time when no-one would take a tart like Christine Keeler seriously! The country's changing.

Well, we don't have to worry about that tonight.

We will...soon enough.

Dr Elwyn kept a diary in his surgery.

Do you think you could find it and bring it to me?

There's one for every five years, all the way back to the '30s.

Where's the current one?

-I never said I wanted to go to London.

-We don't belong here.

I want to go!

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