Home Is the Hero Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads?

# Oh, what happened to you, Whatever happened to me?

# What became of the people

# We used to be?

# Tomorrow's almost over,

# Today went by so fast,

# Is the only thing to look forward to...

# ..the past? #

-Thelma, please.

-Ssh!

(Thelma...)

-(I want to talk to you!)

-(Not here.)

-Why are you being so unreasonable?

-I'm not being unreasonable.

-Why are you in such a state?

-I'm not!

You are. You've put Human Sexual Response under hobbies.

Don't you recognise the symptoms? It's shock, delayed shock at knowing Terry Collier is back in this town.

-Am I to blame for him coming back?

-It seems funny that he comes out of the army just before we get married.

My fault. I asked the War Office to grant him a compassionate discharge to come and drag me from the altar.

That's what he'd like to do!

He's a different person. Five years is a long time.

Why did you two break your journey last night?

Halfway home, why get off the train? Because he was putting the doubts in! An intermission for second thoughts.

-ht

-That's not the case.st You're being absurd.i

Why else get off at Doncaster at midnight?

We were seduced by distant sounds of merriment. "Ho, porter," we said, "what goes on?"

"Man, it's Mardi Gras. It's carnival time!"

Virgins with flowers in their hair. People swaying to jungle rhythms.

Couples copulating all along the Doncaster bypass!

To be in Doncaster at Mardi Gras is to have lived!

He's back. Terry Collier's back!

< Ssh!

Ow!

Aaagh!

What's up?

-Oh, God, God, God!

-What have you done?

Just put my foot on the boiling bloody kettle!

What for?

-..What do you mean, what for?!

-Why put your foot on a boiling kettle? What a daft thing to do.

Do you think I did it on purpose? Do you think I deliberately sustained first degree burns?

You gave me a shock. I thought you'd had an accident.

I HAVE had an accident!

-So, what do you want?

-Milk, no sugar.

-Round here, I meant.

I've come to bid you welcome on this your first day of freedom.

Oh, cheer up, man. Today's supposed to be a day of joy and celebration for your family and friends.

-And shareholders of the Newcastle breweries.

-Joy and celebration(?)

My mam and dad aren't even home. Five years I've been gone.

Five years of toil, solitude and self-sacrifice. And what happens?

I get back to a cold house and a packet of frozen cod balls in the fridge.

-Not even a note?

-They know I'm allergic to fish.

-Not fish and chips, you're not.

-That's different.

Ring Audrey. She'll know where they are.

The bed's not aired, this milk's probably sour, no paper, wireless needs a new battery...

I've a good mind to sign on again.

-It's not like your folks to be away.

-I didn't sleep a wink.

I sat by the window and watched the dawn come up.

You know, Bob,

watching the dawn come up, watching the sun rise above the terraced houses and the brewery,

over the glue works and the tower of the lead factory...

Well, it must be one of the most ugly sights in this world.

You were lucky to see that much!

It made me wonder why I came back.

I started feeling homesick for the army! I started thinking, you know, about all the places and the lads.

I'd been with them a long time.

We've been through a lot together.

Hughie McLaren... We joined up together. Next beds for five years.

Wasn't there talk?!

You wouldn't understand friendship forged in combat.

Combat?!

Taffy Lewis... Was with him in Germany on the night he brained a lieutenant with a hock bottle.

Combat(!)

Two years in the glasshouse they gave him.

He met up with Clarky there. And Chippy was sent up soon after.

-A nice set(!)

-What's THAT supposed to mean?

Sounds more like prison than the forces.

-Good lads, them.

-Known as the dirty dozen(!)

I'd trust Taffy Lewis with my life.

Not my wallet, but certainly my life.

Well, all that's behind you now. It's time to make plans, forge ahead and build a future.

Some of us have done that while some of us were serving Queen and country keeping these shores safe,

so that some of us COULD forge ahead and build a future.

Pardon?

Well, YOU'VE done all right. Got a mortgage and a car. Got premium bonds? I bet Thelma's got some,

-stuffed away for a rainy day.

-You've never liked Thelma.

-She doesn't like ME.

You've always resented her... God, I can see my life turning into a tennis match,

with you and Thelma serving for advantages over each other.

I'll be the ball, bashed from one to the other.

I might as well plan for divorce now. No point in wasting time.

-Mental cruelty, you'd come under.

-It certainly won't be adultery.

She can have the house, it's only fair. I'm off to do some decorating.

Why? If she's getting the house, she can hang her own wallpaper.

You'd be what's referred to as a "just cause and impediment".

I'm an ex-soldier trying to get back into society -

a society that obviously doesn't want me!

Oh!

-Now what's the matter?

-My foot, my foot.

-Hey...

Why don't you go up to your Audrey's, man,

and when she says, "Where have YOU come from?", you can say,

"Hotfoot from our house!"

-Hello, Terry!

-Hello, Stan!

-Haven't seen YOU for a long time. On leave, are you?

-Finished. Got back last night.

-Get away.

-You're looking fit.

-I'm full of cold.

-You'll feel it here. That wind goes through you.

-You were in t'tropics, weren't you?

-More or less.

-Off to see your Audrey?

-Aye. Cup o' tea.

-You'll be having a few bevvies this week.

-No doubt.

-It'll be grand.

The welcome mat. Home is the hero! The big hello.

-Good God, it's you!

-Is that all you can say?

-After five years?

-Wipe your feet.

-Home is the hero(!) Where's my mam and dad?

-At Uncle Norman's funeral.

-Who?

-Uncle Norman.

-Eh?

-In Carlisle.

-..Oh, aye. How is he?

How d'you expect him to be at his own funeral?!

Sorry... Well, he had a good innings. How old was he? Eighty?

Ninety-four.

-When will they be back?

-They'll be at your auntie's for a day or two.

-She's 90, you know.

-Hardly worth them coming home, is it?

-What a thing to say!

Sorry. I'm not in the best frame of mind. I didn't get back till six.

The house is like ice, no hot-water bottle, and I'm full of cold.

-Don't give it to the baby.

-What baby?

-We had another one six months ago.

-What make?

-A girl. Emma Fleur.

-Fleur?!

-Mm.

F-L-E-U-R. Like in The Forsyte Saga. It means flower in French. I wrote and told you.

-The mail didn't always get to the places I've been.

-You were in Devizes!

Officially.

Could I stay here till the folks get back? I feel awful. The damp's playing THIS up.

-What? Your leg?

-I never talk about it.

-Can't you stay at Bob's?

-SHE wouldn't let me.

-His mother?

-No, Thelma, the fiancee. Wouldn't hear of it.

It's awful at home. It's empty. No food. And the TV never gets a decent picture.

You can't stop here, not with that cold. We could all go down with it.

-Wayne's very chesty.

-Who's Wayne?

-Terry, he's your godson.

-Oh, THAT Wayne. I thought you'd got married again.

-You owe him for four birthdays, four Christmasses and a christening. I'll take premium bonds.

-What a welcome(!)

Do you want a cup of tea? There are some cream crackers on the table.

I didn't expect a champagne buffet with the mayor and a march past.

But, after five years serving your country, you expect more than a cream cracker!

-Sugar?

-"Wipe your feet." "Don't sneeze."

-Don't sit there. They're just ironed.

Oh, God.

Terry...? Terry?

..Is that you?

Just tying a shoelace.

What shoelace?

No, the tongue got tangled with the toe and heel.

-How are you?

-Come to see the house?

-No, no, I was just passing.

I didn't know it was your house.

Is this your house?

-Coincidence, eh?

-Aye.

There she is.

-'Ey, it's a canny little house.

-We haven't got a name for it yet.

-You'll need one...

or you'll never find it again!

They're all the same, aren't they?

-Rows of them.

-No, they're not. They're quite different.

Our living room's 16 by 12. They're 15 by 13 down there.

He must be blind.

Underfloor heating. We've gone all-electric, with plenty of points. They're well made, aren't they?

-Is this wall plumb?

-What? Of course it is!

-What makes you think it isn't?

-I've got an instinct for these things.

-There's a nasty crack in that plaster.

-Where? That's settlement.

Bound to be a few teething troubles. Like having a new car.

-Having trouble with that an' all?

-No!

Apart from the starter motor.

-Fifteen. I only make it fifteen.

-What?!

-Fifteen, definitely.

-It depends on your shoe size. You've got large feet.

What the hell is that? The guillotine?

I admit that is something that needs fixing.

-I've broken my finger.

-Not if you can wiggle...

-Get off!

-Have you noticed the windows?

-Bags of light. It's a feature of these houses.

-It means you're overlooked, being so cramped.

-There's no privacy.

-Compared to where we grew up,

this is Woburn Abbey!

When we kids sneezed, next door said "Bless you!"

But them houses had some character. These estates are depressing.

The thought of you all getting up at the same time, eating the same low calorie cereal,

coming home at half-six, and having it off the same two nights a week.

We haven't had a chance to personalise it yet. Once everybody chooses their curtains and that...

Got flair, has Thelma. We're having mauve and seaweed green.

At least THAT'S unusual.

-We wanted yellow, but next door's having that.

-Exactly! You've said it all. It just seems sad to me

that the only way to tell the difference between you all is by the colour of your curtains.

So?

What's wrong with a little modest progress?

I've worked hard for five years and this is what I have to show for it.

It might not be much, but it means a lot to me.

As for YOUR lifestyle -

you're homeless, jobless, car-less and single.

What does that amount to? A bachelor pedestrian.

I'm sorry, kid.

That wasn't a nice thing to say.

It's stupid, anyway. Why should all this appeal to you, eh?

Being lumbered with a house and a wife isn't your scene.

Can you see YOU married?

-With all those birds out there?

-I

-was always the one falling in love, not you.

You're a born bachelor, aren't you?

You're right.

-Naturally independent.

-True.

-There you are.

-Only one problem.

-What?

I'm married.

Pardon?

I'm married!

I am a married man.

Well, say something!

Haven't you got anything to say?

..Got a bottle opener?

What for?

..I need a drink.

Right. Now, start at the beginning. I want it all.

This is the story of my marriage, not the serial on Woman's Hour.

It's the story of the century, mate. It's so unreal. It's like me getting a life peerage.

Or Hartlepool winning promotion.

Why don't you invite all your mates round, eh?

I'll give an illustrated talk,

and you can pee yourselves at my misfortune.

Misfortune?

-The wounds are deep. The scars have not yet healed.

-I didn't realise.

-I've just learnt to live with it.

Forget it. Don't talk about it.

If it hurts, you don't have to tell it all,

just the recorded highlights.

..You can't wait, can you?

I'm sorry.

During the course of my military career,

two things have left an imprint on me for life.

-The leg?

-Apart from that.

That I can live with. No...

The first was when I got mortal in Hamburg and got my buttock tattoed.

The second...

was a rainy afternoon in November '69

when Uta Paungarten, spinster of the parish of Gladbachenei,

got married.

Incredible.

-Was she...?

-Funnily enough, no.

..Rich dad?

Not especially. A few pfennigs put aside. Not much.

Love?!

Always your last alternative(!) She's not in the club, not loaded, so it's love.

Sorry, mate. I'm just going on what I know of you. Your priorities were always firmly worked out -

do you or don't you, darling?

If she did, you weren't fussy. You'd have had a frog if it had stopped hopping.

I'm not denying I put it about a bit.

But I am capable of deeper emotions than 'wham, bam, thank you, ma'am'.

I'm not the person you used to know. I know now there's more to life than the physical.

There's more to people than looks. I've changed.

So...sex didn't come into it?

Of course it did! I haven't changed all that much.

We had no idea. It wasn't in the local rag. Your parents never said.

They were against it. You know how my dad is about Germans. He won't even sit in our Audrey's Volkswagen.

-What went wrong?

-What went right(?)

I suppose it came down to communication. No point of contact.

You can't spend all your time in bed.

-You had nothing else in common?

-Difficult to say.

She didn't speak English.

And I certainly wasn't going to learn German!

Perhaps a child would have helped.

Or an interpreter.

Poor Terry. I never thought I'd hear me saying that.

-I

-never thought I'd hear you saying that.

-I AM human. I do have some compassion.

-Even for Terry?

-For anyone who's suffered.

Is there no chance...?

No, it's irrevoc... Irrev... Definite.

It's a risk marrying a foreigner. They're so physical, the Germans.

Yes, he said their relationship was physical.

-Oh, you've been into all that?

-We touched on it. He opened his heart.

-Is he still very upset?

-He's only just learnt to live with the pain.

-Poor Terry.

-And he's had no comfort coming home.

-Poor, poor boy.

I think he should stay with me.

Certainly not!

He needs a shoulder to lean on, a helping hand.

Not YOUR shoulder.

The two of you discussing physical things and the old days when you were both free.

-Where's all the compassion gone?

-It hasn't.

I just don't think you and he should be going into the perils of marriage.

It's much better if he stays at my place.

-No!

-It's perfect. In these situations, a man needs a woman's sympathy.

-Your parents are away.

-Well, there'll be plenty of room.

-You've never let ME stay, never! I'm always making dawn departures.

I'm always losing sleep and risking the Breathalyser.

YOU can't stay because of our situation, because of the neighbours.

Terry would be a guest, not a lover.

-Give him half a chance...

-I won't give him half a chance!

-I'm not saying you will.

But, on a Friday night after he's had a skinful, he can't take no for an answer.

He gets the red mist.

-I can handle Terry.

-That's what he'll be hoping.

You and I being engaged won't stop him chancing his arm

or laying siege at your bedroom door.

I am making an effort to get to know Terry. That WAS what you wanted.

This morning you said I was unreasonable. Well, now I'm trying to be a friend to YOUR friend.

I want you to be a friend to my friend. I don't want my friend getting too friendly.

I'm glad we can all be friends. I'm very touched by Thelma's offer.

And surprised.

Well, one sniff of personal tragedy and women want to mother you.

Being mothered by Thelma could open a new chapter in our relationship.

That's why I put my foot down.

-You what?! Don't you want me to be a friend of Thelma's?

-Of course I do.

Oh, I can't have you staying there, man.

You don't trust me, do you?

-I am your best mate, and you don't trust me!

-I do!

You think, in the middle of the night, I'll be...

-Laying siege.

-At her bedroom door.

No... Good God, if I can't trust my best friend, who CAN I trust?

It's the neighbours, man. What would they think?

It's OK if it's me. I always stay when her mother's away.

But not a stranger. They're very small-minded, you know.

Aye. Still, it's a pity. Nice little house, Thelma's.

I'll just have to make do with my own cold, empty, freezing house.

No food. No hot-water bottle. Best not to stay with relatives cos if I get another dose of malaria...

Still, I can see why you don't want me to stay in the comfort of Thelma's home.

And why you didn't tell me until AFTER I'd helped with the shelves.

Where are you going?

Oh, I'll wander down to the bus terminal cafe, get a cup of Oxo.

If I stand next to the tea urn, I might get a bit of warmth.

I've got it! You can stay HERE.

Here?!

It's the obvious place. It's centrally heated,

-there's tea in the kitchen, there's a wireless AND there's a bed.

-Where?

-Give me a hand with this.

-Eh?

Get the other end.

I often stay here, trying to get this place together.

I often come round here at night-time, you know...

Do a bit of decorating... Thelma comes sometimes and gives me a hand.

I see(!)

A bit of pre-marital decorating, is it?

Well, I can't at her place.

I mean...

I know, I know. The neighbours.

-Well, it seems very comfy, I will say THAT.

-It'll be our spare bed.

Stay. I can't let you go limping off. You look knackered.

I am. I am.

Bob, you're on.

-Good lad. I'll get some blankets.

-Champion.

I'll come round in the morning and bring you some eggs and a paper.

-That's good of you, mate.

-Least I could do.

-Hey, Bob.

-Yeah?

You didn't trust me, did you?

..No, I bloody didn't.

Bob?

Oh, darling,

you've finished the shelves. They're lovely! You must have worked so hard.

And I just bitch on and be unreasonable.

Sorry.

I'll stay if you like. Do you want me to? You do, don't you?

Don't you want me to stay?

You don't, do you? Well, DO you or DON'T you?

It's all right. I'll stay.

D'you know, pet, I'm not sure about that seaweed green now.

Don't wake up.

God bless.

Darling?

Are you awake?

This little piggy went to market...

This little piggy stayed at home...

Bo-ob?

Bo-ob?

Yes?

-Bob?

-What are YOU doing here?

-What are you doing THERE?

-Hullo, Thelma...

Oh...!

Oh, it's a conspiracy!

I'm going to have a nervous breakdown!

-You'd stop at nothing, you!

-What have I done?

I didn't know anything until three little piggies galloped up my spine!

You devious b...!

I told you to watch that hatch.

Subtitles by Sharman Watt, Intelfax, for BBC Subtitling/1995