Episode 1 Room at the Top

This programme contains very strong language and scenes of a sexual nature

BIRDSONG

I'm so sorry, I've forgotten to bring you your towels.

I'll put them in the bathroom for you.

Well, I think that's everything. Do say if it isn't.

It's all lovely, Mrs Thompson.

Oh, well, I don't know about that, but I hope it's comfortable for you.

And it's Marion, please. And you'll be Joe, won't you,

-unless you insist on Mr Lampton?

-I don't insist.

Chosen in your honour. We've got quite a selection.

You just slip new ones in the frames when you're sick of them

-so if they don't appeal to you, just say.

-No, they're marvellous.

Right, well I'll, um, I'll leave you in peace, then.

All tickety-boo, chez Thompson?

Sounded like a cushy billet when Joan passed on the number.

I'd say I've landed on my feet.

You look like you might have a talent for that.

Strictly frottage, old son.

She's got the strength of an all-in wrestler.

-Not worth the effort. Take it from me.

-If you say so.

TYPEWRITERS CLATTER LOUDLY

Come in.

-Mr Lampton to see you, Mr Hoylake.

-Thank you, Charles.

Senior Audit Clerk is nothing to be ashamed of at your age, Lampton.

But there's plenty of opportunities here to better yourself

if you keep your head down and your nose clean.

That's what I intend, Mr Hoylake.

Good. Oh, thank you, Joan.

-You're not a married man, Lampton?

-No.

Take your time, is my advice.

I intend to, Sir.

Save yourself a bit at this stage

and you can give yourself a proper start in life.

Just how I like it - nice and strong.

Ersatz. Now there's a thing.

It's always struck me as ironic that, in spite of winning the war,

we're stuck with ersatz this

-and ersatz that. A German word.

-Cedric, chicken.

There's nothing ersatz about that, but you might have to wait

until Cedric's delivered his paper to the Literary Society to get it.

I'm sorry, Joe.

Are you a breast man or a leg man?

White or dark meat?

Oh. I'm not bothered thanks. It all looks delicious.

I've never been to Dufton. What kind of a place is it?

Dead. Dirty.

-Have you lived there all your life?

-Well, except for the Air Force.

Well there's plenty of industry here in Warley.

But I suppose we're lucky it's all on the other side of the town. Not where you'll be working.

This is delicious, Mrs Thompson. Er, Marion.

She's a marvel in the kitchen.

Oh! Well, it's...it's lovely to have two men to cook for again.

I...I should give you my ration book.

Well, yes. Whenever you, you know, when you've had chance.

The Food Office is right next to the Town Hall.

You know we miss Maurice very much at times.

But we don't live in a graveyard, do we, Cedric?

We don't mind being reminded of him.

Not at all. You mustn't worry about that, Joe.

All right.

I feel like that about my mother and father sometimes.

He's smashing!

-I'm even more smashing when you get to know me. Hidden charms.

-Oh, aye!

He never takes a full bloody hour for his dinner, 'im. It's not fair.

Have you seen his wife? The wonder is he doesn't bring in sandwiches.

I don't smoke, thanks.

-So you're from Dufton, then?

-Not any more, thank God.

How are you finding Warley?

I'm finding it greatly to my taste, I must say.

-He's got lodgings at the Top.

-Mmm, posh. Whereabouts?

Eagle Road. Not the top of the Top.

-It's lovely round there.

-Yeah. It is, isn't it?

CAR HORN BEEPS

Coupons in that skirt.

CHATTER AND LAUGHTER

-Sorry, I can go to my room.

-Good, there you are. No, don't go.

This is Bob and Eva Storr. Let me introduce you to Joe Lampton, our famous lodger.

Bob and Eva are friends of ours.

-Nice to meet you.

-How d'you do.

Nice to meet you, Joe.

Well, it's lovely to meet you, Joe. It's Joe, is it? Not Joseph?

It is Joseph. But I go by Joe.

-Yeah. It has a manly ring.

-Thanks.

Right, well, I'll bring the coffee then and, uh,

you can reveal your dark purpose to Joe.

You have been warned!

-What about?

-White slavery.

-Actually, worse.

-Eva!

-Amateur dramatics.

-We're short of men.

Always short of men.

We got terribly excited when Marion told us there was new blood to be had.

Didn't we, Bob? So have you ever dabbled, Joe, with thespians?

A bit. In the forces. They had the opposite problem, though.

You should see my Betty Grable. Actually, you shouldn't.

-I bet you've got the legs for it.

-Darling!

You'll frighten the poor man off. We really do need him.

He doesn't look like he scares that easily. Do you, Joe?

I wouldn't say so.

Cast members up stage, please. Careful with your glasses.

Hang the casting committee. I wanted to lead you astray.

-Feel free.

-No, I've got to be wholesome, apparently.

I don't know what Alice has got that I haven't,

but she always seems to get the pornographic parts.

Maybe Bob's trying to tell me something.

Top of page four.

Have you met her?

Who?

Alice. Alice Aisgill. She's Hester to your Joshua.

The strength of a giant and the heart of a child. That's you.

Are you strong?

-They said she was dead as soon as she hit the ground.

-Not bad.

-I'm Joe.

-Oh, thank you. I'm Susan.

-Oh, you are strong!

-I used to box.

Oh, if you went professional I'd run away with you.

I couldn't resist a big, brutal, sweaty boxer.

-What do you want?

-You know what I want.

Not here.

Run away with me, then.

Well, maybe we could manage a weekend.

I'm looking for my wife.

They were taking measurements for costumes. I think they're still up on the stage.

Nice suit.

George Aisgill. He's always well turned-out.

They've got no children to spend it on.

-Night!

-Night, Susan.

-Night, Susan.

-Oh! Goodnight, Joe.

How do you do? I don't think we've met. I'm Jack. Jack Wales.

-Joe Lampton.

-Joe's got a part in the play.

-Oh. Where angels fear to tread, eh?

-You not an actor, then?

No. I'm afraid I have to go back to varsity in a couple of weeks.

Otherwise, Susan would have roped me in.

Thought they'd do plenty of that kind of thing at Oxford.

Cambridge, actually.

Nice to have met you.

-That's enough.

-No-one can see.

I thought we were going to have a weekend together.

Yeah, well, we'd both had a few drinks.

Bob's a stickler for turning up on time.

He'll take your part off you, if you're not careful.

They said she was dead as soon as she hit the ground.

They had to shoot the horse.

-Did you see the accident, Joshua?

-Nay, Madam.

There was no light on the road, save from the workman's brassiere.

CHUCKLING

-Sorry.

-Brazier.

-Brazier.

-Did you see the accident, Joshua?

-Nay, Madam.

There was no light on the road, save from the workman's brazier.

It didn't give off any heat, neither did...

It didn't give off any heat neither. Did they say who was in the car?

It didn't give off any heat, neither. Did they say who was in the car?

Can we do the whole thing from the beginning?

I've rather lost the will to live. Shall we call it a night?

Strong stuff, isn't it? Erotic vices among the working class?

I'm working class.

Good for you.

Don't suppose you'd like some coffee?

I'm not a great coffee man, ta.

Good. You can buy me a beer, then.

Right.

-Clarence?

-I know somewhere better.

No thespians.

Wouldn't have thought this was your sort of place.

Really? I love it.

It's on my way home,

so I don't have to worry about driving far when I've had one over the eight.

You live right at t'Top, I suppose?

Yes. Linnet Road. You're Eagle Road, aren't you?

-I lodge there.

-God, Joe.

Can you consider taking the chip off your shoulder for a minute?

Try the Old. It's real beer. Dark. If you like that.

And I'm paying. But just the first round,

so don't get your knickers in a twist.

Two pints of Old, please, and a packet of potato crisps.

Extra salt.

I've low tastes. I warn you.

Oh, God! That's divine.

Why haven't I thought of it before? You clever man.

Well, I can't claim it as my invention,

although crushing the crisps, that's a Lampton touch.

It's a master stroke.

Now, listen, we're going to be doing this play together.

So I thought we'd better get everything straight between us.

I don't care if you're working class or Little Lord Fauntleroy,

but if you've got an inferiority complex, don't take it out on the rest of us.

I'm sorry, but you were like a bear with a sore head in rehearsals.

Fair enough. I was just in a bad mood, that's all.

Eva's a certified prick tease. Excuse my French.

Yeah, well, I wasn't taking her seriously.

Good. There's plenty more fish in the small pond.

Susan Brown. She's gorgeous.

-Grade two.

-What does that mean?

Hang on, get us another drink.

Grades correspond to the income of husbands and fiances,

ranging from one - millionaires, film stars, dictators -

to 12 - under 350 a year, with no hope of getting any more.

And what grade are you, then?

The whole point of the scheme is husbands are chosen on eventual, as well as actual, salary

so I'm currently grade seven - 600 and over, Deputy and Assistant Head group.

The Lampton Report on Love!

It's depressingly accurate, I promise you.

Sometimes a grade seven man might hook himself a grade three wife.

Oh, well, there you go, then.

Yeah, but you also get self-made grade three men with grade ten wives.

They've hooked before they made their pile. They get grade three mistresses.

I don't know whether that's Marxism or defeatism.

Realism.

And Susan Brown's a grade two, you say?

If not one.

20 grand a year you'd have to make.

What does your husband do?

Cars.

Why don't you ask her out?

She's not engaged, you know.

Unless you feel inferior, in some way, to what's-his-name?

Jack Wales? Do I heck, as like.

Blokes like him think they've got a divine right.

I can see she's just used to him and he thinks he owns her.

Then ask her out. Man the barricades!

It's funny talking to you, Alice. It's like talking to a fella.

Thank you, honey.

Cheers.

-'Joe! Hello!'

-I've two tickets to the ballet, The Haunted Ballroom.

'Oh, how marvellous! I've been dying to see that.'

Well, I'll pick you up, then. Saturday night. I mean, evening.

'No, no, I'll meet you there. What time does it start?

'Oh. Hang on. I'm all tangled up. I've just had a bath.'

Uh... It starts at seven.

Are you sure you don't want picking up?

'No. It's very kind of you. I'll meet you at quarter to.

'That's it.

'I've found my engagement book. You're officially inscribed.

-'Saturday evening, it is.'

-Right.

I'll look forward to it, then. Goodbye.

'Goodbye. Thank you for calling.'

Susan Brown?

Charles, please!

My intentions are those commonly described as "honourable".

-A box of chocolates, a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night, if I'm lucky.

-What's your game, Lampton?

A long game, Charles. A very, very long game.

She's lovely.

So's that, but I can't afford it!

-HE BELCHES

-Sorry. Corned beef.

What you've got to realise is,

Susan Brown is a walking, breathing justification of the capitalist system.

You old romantic fool.

Anyway, a little bird tells me you've been going about with Alice Aisgill.

I've been for a drink with her a few times. We're in this play together.

-I have to make torrid love to her.

-Lucky man.

More than her husband's been doing, if you listen to gossip.

He's got a fancy woman up in Leddersford.

Don't say you'd say no.

Oh, she's a bit long in the tooth, isn't she?

No, it's a platonic thing. I like the woman. Really.

Ah, platonic. Like me and Joan.

I might take her away for a platonic weekend.

And maybe she'll end up having my platonic baby.

Now THAT is fine.

More than a week's wages for a shirt?

-That's barmy, lad.

-Don't you want it, though?

A three-guinea linen shirt, Aston Martin, girl with a Riviera suntan?

Why not, Charles?

Why shouldn't we have everything Warley has to offer?

Marry Princess Margaret, that'll sort you out.

Eh, best bib and tucker, eh? You been stood up?

Looks like it.

Oh, I'm so sorry. You must have thought I'd forgotten.

Are we too late?

-Oh, God, Joe! How sweet!

-Come on.

Mmm! It's gorgeous, isn't it? Oh, I simply adore ballet.

Music makes me feel all squashy inside.

Have you seen Fontaine?

No. No, I'd love to.

She's beautiful. An artist.

Did you see her in London, Joe?

-A few times.

-What in?

Oh, you know, the classics.

-I'm not sure I don't prefer this though. More modern.

-Mmm.

I'm not sure I'm clever enough to understand it all.

I think you're being modest.

-You sure you wouldn't like a drink or an ice cream?

-Oh, no, thank you.

I'm perfectly happy as I am.

I have to say, I had you down as a dear kipper.

-A what?

-A dear kipper.

When I was little and I wanted this, that, and the other,

my mother would say, "You're a dear kipper, you!" Because it all costs money.

I think it sounds lovely. "A dear kipper."

Does your mother still call you that?

-She's dead. She died in the war with my dad.

-Oh.

But I like talking about her.

I don't live in a graveyard.

BELL RINGS

I'd like to take you to Sadler's Wells.

I'd like to go.

BELL RINGS

Joshua, I never know anything of what you're thinking,

especially what you're thinking of me,

the woman who loves you with all her heart.

Everything I have to give, I give to you.

I know, my darling. I know.

And you should know that my heart belongs to you.

-Joshua.

-Hush, woman!

There'll be no harvest now.

APPLAUSE

Well done.

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

Susan! Coming to The Clarence?

Oh, I'd love to, but Jack's waiting for me.

He's taking me out to supper.

Oh. Back, is he? He's only been at Cambridge five minutes.

Disgraceful, isn't it?

They have very short terms. See you later, Joe.

Yeah, maybe next week some time.

Fancy a quick one at the St Clair? Or a slow one even?

Absolutely.

Darling, you don't mind me bringing my lover, do you?

The more the merrier.

You're a Town Hall wallah, aren't you?

Treasurers.

Must be a bit dull.

Oh, you'd be surprised.

There's always some businessman on the fiddle.

My God, you lot hate paying rates!

Not guilty, old man. My place isn't in Warley.

We don't like that, either. Depriving your home town of income.

Oh, God, no shop. I beg you.

Couldn't you of put a bit of make-up on?

Just taken all that filthy stage stuff off. It's terrible for the skin.

Sorry to offend, gents.

Better?

Slightly.

-Same again?

-No, it's my shout.

Rubbish! You're our guest.

Wasn't too bad tonight, I thought.

I'll miss it.

Me, too.

You look so sad.

Must be the make-up.

George was right.

What you up to over Christmas?

Nothing. Well, worse than nothing. Dufton.

Staying at my auntie's.

And how is your campaign going? With Susan?

It's looking like a bust to me.

Jack Wales is back on the scene.

Well, maybe you should play hard to get.

-Do you think?

-It's been known to work.

And I'd say Susan's the kind of girl who's used to getting everything offered to her on a plate.

She's bound to be a bit spoilt.

Who's this?

Susan Brown. Joe's taken a fancy to her.

Oh, good man. I wouldn't take her dad on, though.

Not without plenty of ammo. He fights a pretty dirty game, does Harry.

It's not him I'm keen on.

-Here.

-Thank you, honey.

-Merry Christmas, Joe.

-Merry Christmas.

KNOCK AT DOOR

We'll miss you, Joe.

Thanks for the gloves. You shouldn't have.

You were supposed to save that for Christmas Day. Something to unwrap.

I'm glad they fit.

Like a glove!

-Happy Christmas, Mrs Thompson.

-Oh!

PHONE RINGS AT OTHER END

'Warley 6813?'

Alice, it's Joe. Joe Lampton.

-'Happy New Year, Joe.'

-Happy New Year.

Come and get warm.

Was your Christmas as ghastly as mine?

It's for kids, really, isn't it?

No point to it, that I can see, once you've grown up.

No.

They were going to have all sorts of things up here once.

Then it all came to nothing.

Same old story - the war.

I think we blame the war for too much sometimes.

I'm not knocking it. It shook things up for me.

Got me out of Dufton.

Passing me exams.

Got me...

Got me laid.

That would have happened sooner or later.

You light it for me. Like in the films.

COUGHING AND SPLUTTERING

God, they're rough!

Sorry! It's all they had in t'shop.

You know, I didn't smoke before the RAF.

You got breaks in training.

Cigarette breaks. You just get into the habit.

There were this one bloke in my hut.

He used to set his alarm, believe it or not,

so he could have a fag in the middle of the night.

Said it soothed his nerves.

He bought it, though.

Just on a recce.

Fuel tank exploded 50 yards from base.

Fried in his own fat, like bacon.

It's a very moral kind of car.

I was just thinking. How nice it is to have...

..to make love to a woman...

who don't weep with shame afterwards.

Or eat fish and chips while we're doing it!

Come on.

Let's go and get warm. Oh, God, you are.

Beautiful hands you've got.

Brutal.

Warm hands...cold heart.

The other way round, surely?

We'll still be friends, won't we, Joe?

Loving friends.

Yeah. Exactly.

Don't fall in love with me.

It's not the same thing, you know.

Course not.

Loving friends.

SHE MOANS

SHE MOANS AND PANTS

SHE GIGGLES

Actually, I could murder some fish and chips.

Warley!

HE WHISTLES "D'YE KEN JOHN PEEL?"

Beryl.

And how are you, Joan, queen of my heart?

HE WHISTLES

Oh, aye. What's all this in aid of?

What could you mean, Charlie boy?

Note the knife-blade crease in Mr Lampton's rather questionable trousers, Raymond.

A sure sign that said articles of clothing have not been worn much recently.

That, with the gratuitously jaunty whistling, can only signify one thing -

how's your father?!

You've got sex on the brain, that's your trouble.

Only ruddy place I have got it. That's my trouble.

Did you take this, Ray?

Yeah, Mr Lampton.

It were only five minutes back.

You got the account for Nantwiches?

Reckon we might have got them for teeming and lading.

Well, that would make my day.

There's something going on with Crosskills.

I'll show you the entries. Here.

I wish we could sleep together.

I mean, really sleep. Spend the whole night.

We could manage something, couldn't we?

Doesn't he go away sometimes?

Now and again.

Oi.

Esther'll be back soon.

She's probably walking around in the cold, God love her.

I didn't think you were beautiful at all when I first met you.

I must have been blind.

You know, sometimes you could be about 18.

I'm just a crazy mixed-up kid.

Mmm...

You should have been a navvy.

I hate to think of you ever wearing clothes.

I don't think you could have ever met a navvy, love.

They wear a lot more than accountants do.

Careful. You're looking babies.

If you look long enough, you'll see a baby.

Actually, I can... I can see myself.

THEY LAUGH

Bless you.

Oh. >

Sorry, my darlings.

I held as long as I could, but it's absolute brass monkeys out there.

-It's all right. Alice has gone.

-Cup of tea.

Can I tempt you, darling? One to send you on your way?

You're all right. I'd best get off.

Alice is a very lucky girl.

Mind you, she deserves a bit of luck. We all do.

She has a heart of gold, you know. Always has had.

Do you love her?

It's about time someone did.

But I can tell you're not the type to wear your heart on your sleeve.

What do you mean "someone"?

George isn't exactly love's young dream

and roses round the door, is he?

My god. Your sort are always the jealous ones.

You're all right. I've got work to do.

Why do you think she married him?

He asked her.

-KNOCK AT THE DOOR

-Joe!

Come in.

I'm sorry to disturb you.

I've just been on the telephone to Eva Storr.

She's having a birthday party next Saturday

and she's invited us all along.

I'll have to take her a present, won't I?

Well, you can leave it to me, if you like.

I know the kind of thing she likes.

And I promise not to break you.

You're too good to me, you know.

I enjoy it.

You could do with a bit of fun.

You've had your nose to the grindstone too long with exams.

Dark circles under your eyes.

Uh...

I don't bear such close scrutiny, honey.

You've got a fabulous figure.

You should have seen me ten years ago.

Actually, you can somewhere.

I did life modelling when I was in rep.

There's probably a drawing room in the Home Counties

where I'm displayed in all my former glory.

You never told me.

Why didn't you tell me?

There's a lot you don't know about me. My disreputable past.

Sweetheart, it's nothing to worry about.

Well, maybe you better tell me everything.

Oh, for God's sake, Joe.

It was an art college.

I needed the money. The room was freezing cold.

I got cramp. I wasn't very good.

And I did a bit for a photographer I met at a party.

-He had a gas fire.

-Did he now?

Yes.

Oh, God, you can be so bloody provincial!

That's what you like, isn't it?

Leg-show and lingerie. Ooh-la-la. Slap and tickle.

You stupid bitch!

Get off me.

Esther isn't made of money, you know. This isn't a hotel.

Well, give her that, then. Tell her I broke the bottle.

I actually thought you were different.

What kind of sap am I?

I'm not you dirty private postcard, Joe.

I own my body.

Tits. Cunt.

Yeah. I can say those words.

And I'm not ashamed of them. And I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done.

If you'd ever mixed with intelligent people, you'd have an inkling of that.

-I can't help where I come from!

-Oh, change the bloody record!

Not that it makes any difference, but I was damned near starvation

when I transgressed your peculiar morality.

You make a great to-do about your humble beginnings,

but you've never gone hungry, have you?

Didn't someone else always go short for you, Joe?

Mummy's boy. Teacher's pet. Housewife's choice.

What do you think a prisoner-of-war gets to eat?

We ought to be sensible about it.

We both agreed there'd be nothing permanent.

All right. If that's what you want. We'll call it a day.

There's nothing more to say, is there?

Alice.

I'm sorry.

I'm grateful to you.

Truly.

Oh, happy birthday, Eva. You look lovely.

I bought you some chocolates.

Hello. I hoped you'd be coming.

You look good enough to eat.

I'm not sure you've got room on the plate.

Watch out, Susan, our Joe has a huge appetite for everything.

Iron guts they used to call me in the RAF.

-If he were fatter, he'd be just like Henry VIII.

-Eva. You're horrid.

I like to see a man eat.

Henry was famous for more than just eating.

Rest assured, love, if I was going to chop anyone's head off, you'd be first in the queue.

No wives to speak of...yet.

Glad to hear it.

I always thought you liked older women.

Oh, did I not mention? The Aisgills can't make it, by the way.

George telephoned just to say that they have a previous engagement.

Don't mind the birthday girl.

-She's jealous, cos you're the most beautiful girl here.

-Don't make fun.

I wasn't. Not of you.

Christ, Susan, you're the loveliest thing I've ever seen.

Are you angry with me?

I telephoned. Didn't you get the message?

Ah, well, I've been busy. I've got exams coming up and...

-You seemed busy yourself over Christmas.

-You mean Jack.

Joe...

We go about together but it's nothing serious.

Mummy likes him.

Right, well, that's the main thing, isn't it?

Don't be like that, please.

It's not like...

The times we went out together, you never even tried to kiss me.

The times I took you out, I just gave it up.

You seemed so cold and proper.

It didn't seem any use.

You know when a woman wants to be kissed.

Maybe she doesn't always know herself.

There's a pure kiss for you.

I don't want a pure kiss.

You make me feel funny inside. I...

I've never felt like that before.

Come in.

Well, you're picking up the work very well, I must say.

And I'm most gratified to see that you're acquiring the qualifications to do even better.

Plenty of room for promotion here, you know.

You like it here, don't you?

Very much. I love it.

Joe, you may resent what I'm going to say now.

What you do in your spare time is, of course, your business...

within limits.

And I needn't tell you what those limits are.

Have there been any complaints?

Oh, for heaven's sake, don't misunderstand me.

Whatever the limits of decorum are, you have not, I assure you,

transgressed them.

Well, that's a relief.

Let me put it this way...

You have, I'm sure, some notion of the workings of local government.

In theory, the most important cog in the machine is the councillor.

In practice, we know it's the senior official who runs the show.

But promotion is another matter.

Promotion, whatever the head of the department may recommend,

is dependent on the majority vote of the Establishments Committee.

And councillors are like sheep.

If a powerful personality declares himself against an official's promotion,

then the majority will follow him, just to curry favour.

-Do I make myself clear?

-Not entirely, if I'm honest.

Councillor Brown is the Chairman of the Establishments Committee.

He's a very wealthy and powerful man.

Engineer by trade, you know?

He likes everything to run like a piece of first-class machinery,

including his family.

Well, perhaps I'd better apply for a job elsewhere, then, eh?

Oh, good God, dear chap, don't take the wrong end of the stick.

As I said, we're very pleased with your work.

Are you planning on going to the Civic Ball?

Yeah. I mean, a lot of the department's going.

Plenty of pretty girls there.

Guaranteed. I'll introduce you to them, if you like.

You're not actually courting, are you?

No.

No, not as such.

Well, save yourself a guinea and go solo.

You don't take a bottle of beer into the pub with you, do you?

Well, this is like Chekov, isn't it?

We sit here drinking tea, discussing life.

We'll begin by examining Joseph Lampton. Born January 1921 at Dufton.

Father, John Lampton. Occupation, overseer.

Education, Dufton Grammar School.

Junior Clerk, Dufton UDC, 1937.

Sergeant-Observer, 1940.

1943-1945, Stalag E91, Silesia.

Present post, Senior Audit Clerk, Warley UDC.

Prospects - might well be Treasurer of Warley, one day.

You'll do.

Lampton has risen remarkably high, considering his humble beginnings,

but in our considered opinion, he lacks the necessary background,

poise and breeding to succeed, in our sense of the word.

In short, he is, essentially, vulgar.

In addition, we learned, to our astonishment and horror,

that Lampton has entered upon a clandestine relationship

with a young Grade Two woman. She'll be here, you know.

Not if we don't get a move on, she won't.

Joan will think I've fallen in.

You're worse than a bloody woman, you.

It's the same every year.

You either pay the Earth for shorts or blow yourself up with bottled beer.

I can stand it, just for the night.

-Good evening, Susan. Jack.

-Hello, Joe.

-Mummy, Daddy, this is Joe Lampton, the young man I told you about.

-How do you do, Mrs Brown?

-Mr Brown. We met at my interview for the Treasurer's Office.

-I remember.

Dufton lad. He was in the forces like you, Jack.

Where was it you said you did your basic, Lampton?

Lincolnshire. Frinton Bassett. The 51st.

-Good God, then you must know Chick. Chick Darrow.

-Sorry, no.

Thoroughly decent chap. I went to school with him.

-Went for a Burton over the Ruhr, though.

-How sad.

I don't know him, I'm afraid.

The officers didn't mix much with the NCOs.

Dufton, did you say? Do you know Cannon Jones?

Sorry, no.

-Can I buy anyone a drink?

-No, no, no, old boy.

It's frightfully dear stuff, this.

Extraordinary, really. You couldn't miss old Chick.

Bright red hair, terrific baritone. Good enough to be a professional.

If Joe didn't know him, he simply didn't know him.

Oh, come now. He's a Dufton lad.

George Pullman. You must know him.

-I know the name, yes.

-Amazing chap.

He'll kill himself in that old Alpha. Drives it like a maniac. you must have seen him.

I'm afraid I can't find much to admire in a tallyman.

I don't follow you, old man.

He sells clothes on credit for around 50% over the retail price,

then charges interest on top of that.

It's money lending dressed as trade. It stinks.

You're sure I can't get anyone a drink?

What do you reckon, Joe?

Are Warley's finances up to another round?

We're solvent, if that's the question.

More than can be said for the country as a whole, eh?

Winnie was right. We're under a Gestapo with this lot.

Can't disagree with you there, Mr Hoylake.

What do you reckon, Mr Lampton?

You're talking to the wrong man, I'm afraid. I voted Labour.

Did you now? Out with the old, in with the new, eh?

We'll buy our own, then.

"Can't disagree with you there, Mr Hoylake."

Steady on. Voted Labour myself, as it happens.

Why didn't you bloody stand up to him, then?

What's ever, ever going to change if we just lie down

and let the bastards walk all over us?

Talk about the ruddy Gestapo.

All right! Got the job to think of.

They don't grow on trees.

Sod this for a game of soldiers. I'll have some of Joan's.

You're not wrong about tallymen.

I wouldn't worry yourself about the way the world's run, lad.

Pick your battles. Enjoy yourself while you're young.

I'll do me best.

No.

There you are.

You've seen more than Jack's ever seen...

or likely to.

Take me somewhere. Another day.

Aren't you frightened of what I might do to you?

Terrified.

You better not be stringing me along.

Why would I do that?

Cos it feels nice.

This feels nice.

Why are you so touchy about being made a fool of?

I don't know, really.

I suppose...I'm horribly shy, deep down.

Could never believe a woman would love me enough...to let me do this.

-Oh, God, Susan. I'm bone-sick of myself sometimes.

-You're wonderful.

You are the wonderfullest man in the whole world.

I think I'm falling in love with you.

Look at you.

It's not even that you look clean.

You look like you've never been dirty.

You know, I love you too, don't you?

-Do you really?

-You know I do.

How much?

A hundred thousand pounds' worth.

A hundred thousand pounds.

HE VOMITS

Told you!

PHONE RINGS

'36813.'

-I've got to see you.

-'Have you any idea of the time?'

I'm sorry, Alice. I'm sorry about everything.

Come to Spanaway, please.

You've got to save me.

Please.

I'm so sorry.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd