Episode 1 The Hour

Oh, God!

If it all gets too much, I say we take the next train to Morocco.

Apparently, it's the most marvellous place to get lost.

Any sign of Hector?

Hm. No. Eyes on the prize, sweetheart.

Sissy, try Mr Madden at his club again.

Yes, Miss Rowley.

Keep calling.

Ten minutes, ladies and gentlemen.

We have a show starting and a new Head of News to impress.

Mr Wengrow. Change your shirt, wear a tie. You might be needed.

-Right. Right. Really?

-Slim pickings.

Er, Mr Brown...?

HE HUMS A TUNE

A-hem! It's time to...

Defer no time.

Delays have dangerous ends.

-Has Mr Madden been found?

-Any moment.

He's cutting it fine.

HE LAUGHS

Mr Brown, as you may be aware,

the last nine months have been an exercise

in maintaining the direction and morale of The Hour.

-Pleasure!

-LAUGHTER

-Excuse me, Mr Madden, would you mind?

-Of course.

It's Dorothy.

Uncovered are snapping at your heels.

And, despite ITV's attempt to colonise many aspects of the show,

The Hour is still exemplary in its field.

-Imitation is the highest form of flattery.

-Exactly.

Except it's better.

I'm sorry?

Uncovered's better.

Hold on! Going down?

-It's better?

-Yeah.

-Well, how exactly?

Tighter. Newer. Fresher.

And also, I presume, with a presenter who's on time.

Very good, Mr Wengrow. Loosen your tie and smile.

I will castrate Hector if he's late again.

Final checks, please, ladies and gentlemen.

Final checks, please.

-Hello.

-Good evening.

-You have a replacement?

-Yes.

-On the floor.

Just in case, Mr Wengrow.

A man has no more character than he can command in a time of crisis.

OK, camera one.

-Miss Rowley, I do not wish to state the obvious...

-Then don't.

-..but you have no show if you have no presenter.

-Mr Wengrow, stand by.

-Keep the change.

-We have a show, we have a running order,

we have cameras, we have...

-Evening, Suzy.

-Evening, Mr Madden.

-Right, cue grams.

-Camera two, stand by, please.

-Thank you, Nora.

Breathe, Mr Wengrow.

Thank you, Betty.

Counting down, Miss Cooper.

-Fade grams.

-Ah, he's here!

And...we are saved.

Five...four...

Hit it, ladies and gentlemen.

-Let's give the new boy something to shout about.

-..one.

What a pity, Mr Wengrow. And you look so smart in your suit.

Good evening and welcome to The Hour.

Sputnik 2.

Is Britain facing a growing nuclear threat

with every Soviet advancement?

What does this latest development in the Russian Satellite Programme

mean for Britain, and indeed for the arms race as a whole?

Also on tonight's programme -

Spend, spend, spend, says the Chancellor. We've never had it so good.

But what is the long-term forecast. for boom time?

Last but not least, a little bit of Hollywood touches down

amidst the glitz and glamour of Soho.

The toast of London Town, Mario Lanza, has just arrived.

But now back to Sputnik 2 and a very special passenger.

A three-year-old bitch, newly nicknamed Laika,

who has been found on the streets of Moscow

is now orbiting the earth at...

# With Hiltone she's got a full engagement book. #

Hiltone hair lightener brings exciting hair radiance

with the shade lighter look.

See the glamour Hiltone gives.

Do join us next week for more breaking news from home and abroad.

Thank you and good night.

And we're clear. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

He dropped that second paragraph.

The main points were, I think, still well made.

I said if he cuts my work again then I will not play nice any more.

What did you think?

Hm.

Right.

It was a good cut.

I told you last week and I'll say it again, it is not yours to tamper with!

Thank you, darling, I knew you'd agree.

One always feels a tiny victory when that woman's riled.

Oh, you're deplorable. Late, late, late.

Where the hell have you been?

Ah, Mr Brown!

Sorry I was not here to greet you earlier.

Delighted to have you on the team. I hope we pass muster.

The light, too bright on your face.

Bounces around, amplifies the cheeks.

But apart from that...

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

9am tomorrow morning, editorial conference.

Debrief.

Wunderbar!

Mr Madden's timekeeping may not be entirely orthodox...

We are in agreement.

..but that doesn't take away from the brilliance of his delivery.

Maintaining the quality of a 60-minute programme

when I am pursuing most of the stories myself and writing the copy,

I cannot also be the Head of News.

With Mr Fendley in prison and one of my top journalists gone...

Ah, yes, Mr Lyon.

Um...was dismissed.

Whilst you fought to stay.

Why would you say Uncovered is better?

It's just newer. People like what's new.

Why would you say that?

Competition is good.

Yes, it is. Competition is good.

When I was a girl, I was very competitive, um...

badges, medals. High jump was my thing.

But without resources, we may compete, but we can't win.

Lix is brilliant.

And Mr Wengrow, um...

Mr Wengrow is...is coming along fine.

But it's my right-hand man...

But it's...it's my right-hand man that I...that I miss.

-There is a certain something...

-Yes.

-..lacking.

-Yes.

-An edge.

A bite.

-The prick of the hair on the back of the neck.

-I thought you might say that.

The tingle from the top of the head to the balls of the feet.

-When one watches The Hour, it's almost...

-Too smooth. T-Too slick.

The last time I watched this programme, and admittedly that was some time ago,

THEN one could feel the tingle.

Hear the tick.

Let me hear your tick, Miss Rowley.

My tick?

Editorial conference, 9am. I look forward to it.

He...he fiddles with things.

What...what is he? What have they sent us?

I'm going to go home, drink a bottle of vodka and sleep and not wake up.

Yes. Brilliant.

The thing is, darling,

the powers that be must have some method to their madness.

Otherwise, the whole Paris bureau

who declared him the best chief they ever had got it completely wrong.

Acapulco.

Ha-ha! Ridiculous boy!

-Oh, nice shoes. Are they date shoes?

-Engagement party.

Pity invite.

But you, on the other hand...

Not biting.

When Hector enquired how well I knew Mr Brown, I said not at all.

Please don't make me lie to you as well.

BIG BAND MUSIC

# Who's got a match worth striking?

# Don't say it all depends

# Who wants to help me burn my candle at both ends?

Mr Madden!

Thank you, sir, have a good evening.

# Who's got a light he's hiding

# Under a bushel, friends?

Dining alone tonight, Mr Madden?

Er...no, not tonight.

# At both ends

Enjoy your evening.

# It's possible it may not last a night

# While it burns what a wonderful light... #

-Good evening.

-Evening, Mr Madden.

-Hello.

-Mr Madden, good evening!

-Good evening.

Wonderful show this evening.

We never miss it.

The doggy, so sweet!

-Thank you.

-Prego.

Yes, very droll. Sending a bitch into space.

Yes, they're calmer, apparently.

How's your Head of News settling in?

What's it to you?

Don't forget who saved The Hour, Hector.

If it was up to the rest of them at Westminster,

you'd all be out on your ear after they pulled the plug.

-Thank you very much.

-Thank you.

One can't have a traitor at the BBC.

No. Mr Lyon took the rap, you remained at the helm,

Miss Rowley kept her job and...

..MI6 got their man.

It was still a lie.

A lie has no legs.

But a scandal...

now, that has wings.

-Mr Madden, would you mind, just one for the album?

-Of course.

-Thank you.

-Salute!

-ALL: Salute!

Grazie. Excuse me.

Yes. Bloody wop!

We're all immigrants, Angus.

Whisky, no ice.

-So, what is your name?

-Miss Delaine.

Kiki Delaine. I'm an actress.

Oh, a performer. I'm one of those.

THEY LAUGH

THUD!

From this day, Britain will rank beside America and Russia

as a major nuclear power.

Britain is no longer dependent on anyone for this ultimate deterrent.

Everyone who will be on deck puts on...

Ladies and gentlemen...

if we cannot debate that which troubles our society,

and more importantly troubles our government,

then we cannot, in all honesty, call ourselves a democracy.

If we cannot question our leaders

as they embark on what some call an illegal military action...

MUTED

Commander Stern.

These are all you found?

Back room's stuffed with 'em.

Shut it down and board it up. Straight away.

Yes, sir.

Let's go! Come on!

-You take the back, I'll check the cellar.

-Yes, sir.

UPBEAT MUSIC

THEY CHUCKLE

Come on.

Commander Stern.

Captain Madden. I hoped I might see you here.

-Hello.

-Miss Delaine, may I introduce Commander Stern,

soon to be Deputy Commissioner.

-Stern is fine.

-I hear it's only a matter of time.

Now, be gentle with him, he's appallingly shy.

So, how are our London streets?

Filled with the usual stench of decay and decline, but we do our best.

Indeed.

Would you be free tomorrow? Say, after nine?

I've got something for that story you've been working on.

Commander Stern. Your boys have been busy tonight.

Yes, we try.

-Aren't you staying, Commander?

-It's a bit noisy for me...

HECTOR CHUCKLES Why don't you come with me?

You're a fine chap, but by God your job made you boring.

You go home, sleep tight. I'm going to enjoy my evening.

-Do you know, this man saved my life.

-Did he really?

-Did you see service?

-I-I did, I did.

Broadcast service, wasn't it, Angus? In leafiest Surrey.

HECTOR LAUGHS

-Hope to see you again, Commander.

-As I'm sure you will.

Good night, everyone.

Mr Madden, the champagne is from

the two gentlemen at the table in the corner.

Oh, it's the chaps from ITV.

I've been very impressed with their coverage lately, don't you agree?

They've got their eye on you.

Best call it a night.

Hm. I was just starting to enjoy myself.

Ah! A couple of chaps are going to have a drink at their suite.

First rule with temptation,

yield to it slowly.

So much more satisfying in the end.

Won't you join us, Miss Delaine?

I'll just get my fur.

Hector?

What the hell! Why not?

TV: Smother with scrambled egg mixed with curry powder,

top with sweet pickle and cover.

It's delicious!

# When it's time to have a bite Have a sandwich

# Morning, noon and night Have a sandwich. #

ANIMATED CHATTER

Making a break for it already?

Um...she's the friend of a very distant cousin. I won't be missed.

-Hm.

-But it was a perfectly marvellous party

and you didn't hear me say otherwise. Have a nice evening.

You missed a trick with the Macmillan story.

-Sorry?

-Tonight.

They're overstretched in Health and Defence.

Rumour has it Macmillan has seen the civil estimates

and is urging ministers to slash where they can.

A fan of The Hour.

Actually, I prefer Uncovered.

That's just news with advertisements. It doesn't count.

-Really?

-You try running stories with a kick

whilst levelling out those that cause too much of a ruckus.

That must be exhausting, having to circumnavigate the truth.

I-I knew someone, and he believed that the truth...

Is something you don't have to lie about.

Exactly, yes.

Do you want to get a drink?

-Yes. What would you like?

-No. Not here.

Sorry. I've got somebody waiting for me at home.

Naturally.

Thanks for the tip.

MUSIC: Move It by Cliff Richard and The Shadows

# Come on, pretty baby Let's a-move it and a-groove it

# Shake, oh, baby, shake, oh, honey Please don't lose it

# The rhythm, it gets into your heart and soul

# Let me tell you, baby It's called rock and roll... #

TV: When I say I'm not talking to the press now

or to Leslie Grade, who represents me in Europe,

or Mr Val Parnell or just anyone at all,

it took a long time, but I just want to talk to you,

the English people, it took so much time,

may I say hello. That's all.

APPLAUSE

Now an aria from the opera Tosca.

APPLAUSE

MUSIC: "E Lucevan Le Stelle"

# E lucevan le stelle

# E olezzava la terra

# Stridea l'uscio dell'orto

# E un passo sfiorava la rena

# Entrava ella, fragrante. #

How did you get in?

A-hem! So, ladies and gentlemen,

as it is nine o'clock, and in the absence of your producer, I shall begin.

Though I appreciate you are only a year into this programme,

I assume nine o'clock is the start of our working day.

In fact, the start of a whole new week.

So, first, all good art dies after a revolution.

It's only when one is fighting to overthrow any kind of oppression

that real work, good work thrives. So in that spirit, Miss Storm...

Windscale Enquiry. The report is out today.

Doesn't entirely instil confidence

when there's a fire in the reactor and it isn't put out for days,

but the wider issue is the implications for Britain

in its position in the nuclear arms race.

The Soviets have stolen a march on everyone with Sputnik 2

and Eisenhower is cowering in the corner.

You haven't fallen for that? Nonsense.

In every American, there's an incorrigible air of innocence

which in fact conceals a diabolical cunning.

The Americans knew this was coming.

What's a race if you can't be beat? But maybe item two.

Mr Wengrow, home desk, what have you got?

They suggest if you have no time before you see the flash of the bomb,

move to the nearest doorway, avoiding flying glass.

It's blatant scare-mongering designed to cause nightmares,

while we are left unquestioning

and with no opinion other than the one they need,

which is, "Hell, yes, let's arm ourselves to the hilt."

How can we support the Chancellor

when he is increasingly spending public funds on nuclear weapons...

Whilst stirring fear in the British public

when the funding of public services is compromised.

Exemplary, Moneypenny, as ever.

-Mr Lyon! (I can't believe you're here!)

-Hello, Sissy.

Interesting angle.

However, in keeping pace with our rivals,

we cannot ignore today's press conference,

so I suggest keeping focus on the issues in hand.

Public paranoia and general fascination

with the nuclear arms race.

Yes, it is, Mr Lyon.

And I hope you'll all welcome him back to The Hour.

I've thought long and hard as to how he might fit back into the team.

Last night confirmed Mr Madden needs backup.

And Mr Lyon is the obvious swing man to Mr Madden's trapeze.

Mr Lyon will be co-hosting the programme.

Miss Rowley, a word, if you please.

LOW CHATTER

Are you completely insane?

Mr Lyon was one of the conditions of my joining this team.

You knew. You...you knew last night.

A new co-host, without even consulting me?

And you announce it in front of my whole team!

Do you...do you see how that undermines me?

Everything that I have done here in the last nine months.

And you have made me look ridiculous!

-Hold your fire, Miss Rowley.

-What fire?!

I assumed that this would be welcome news.

Well...it is. I-I mean...no!

Have you even interviewed him for the post?

In Paris, he was surprisingly persuasive.

-Certain that his skills had been missed.

-Paris!

A couple of months' secondment to the bureau.

We caught him on his travels.

I believe a long stint in America, then Paris.

But he was clearly eager to come back.

-Hector...

-Will be fired if he opposes.

A sign of celebrity

is that his name is often worth more than his services.

I presume it is not his wife who's keeping him this late.

Ah!

Sorry! Sorry!

-Let's go up to my office.

-No.

I've only got five minutes.

Made the front page again.

Not now, not now, not now.

These are the minutes of a meeting that took place when the crime figures first came in.

In that meeting, I raised my concerns

that policing is being woefully under-resourced.

My fear is the filth and depravity I see on the streets every day

is not simply being ignored, it's being denied.

These figures are only half of what we see.

You might find the Home Office Minister's comments...interesting.

You deserve another medal for this.

It's the war at home I'm worried about.

Hm!

You know, I worry about you sometimes, Hector.

Everybody wants a piece of you nowadays.

You should be more discerning.

Trust in those who care.

Los Angeles. Wow!

Then before that, Mexico.

-Oh, calm down, dear boy.

-Then across to New York

and I wrote for The Village Voice for a few months.

Amazing! Inspirational, Mr Lyon!

-Aren't you, sweetheart!

-Ladies and gentlemen, the working day has started.

I want that all again, but this time with whisky.

Welcome back, beautiful boy.

-I'll just move my stuff.

-Oh, no rush.

You've rearranged.

Plants? How very unlike you.

Yes, plants.

You had that cactus, you hated it. You hate plants.

Not now.

I even enjoy the cinema alone.

A lot less fidgeting

and you don't get the annoying commentary on the bus home.

What did you write?

Interesting stuff on Eisenhower in the aftermath of McCarthy.

-Really?

-Hm.

A bit 1953.

It's usual to say welcome back,

-or some other superlative.

-You left.

-And yet you stayed.

-And you could have told me you were coming back.

-It wouldn't fit on a postcard.

-Paris?

-Paris is practically here.

-Big pond of sea between here and....

-Did you grow bored with trying to find yourself?

-Yes, actually.

-I still miss your father.

-Thank you.

I wrote you a letter.

From San Diego.

And then another one from New York.

You didn't write back.

Was it a good read?

It's rubbish.

Doesn't even tell you what happens in the end.

And the other stuff.

Um...this might be something.

30 per cent rise in crime and vice in the last year.

Holy cow! It's Sigmund Freud.

Or Moses.

Seemed like a good idea on the other side of the Atlantic.

Where the hell have you been?

-This is unacceptable.

-It is.

Please don't be angry.

-Sissy, Coffee.

-Did you have a marvellous time?

I did. As did you, by the smell of it.

You missed the flowers and moving welcoming speech.

How the devil did you worm your way back in?

Mr Brown's appointment.

Jolly good. We've lacked a bit of zip around here!

As new co-host.

You didn't know?

No. No!

No!

You've been late every day for the last six months.

Smelling cheap. Mr Brown is insistent.

You're splitting apart at the seams, Hector.

If I see one more picture of you

splashed across the front page of a tabloid,

unless it's for picking up the Nobel Prize

or journalist of the year, then you are out.

And that is not my decision.

We have a new Head of News. It's out of my hands

but it is the one thing that Mr Brown and I agree on.

How can we be the serious face of news when you are pressed up

against so much mink and cigar smoke it looks like you're in a harem?

You're jealous.

No.

The word is "popular".

For what? Because it's certainly not for presenting news.

That's not what everyone thinks.

Good God! ITV? Which programme?

Uncovered? Oh, I bet it's Uncovered.

-Perks are good. Car with chauffeur.

-Oh, please.

You'll be hosting Sunday Night at the London Palladium next.

-You know you'd miss me if I left.

-SHE LAUGHS

Or maybe you're not interested in what I have to offer?

Thought it might spur on your Soho crime story.

My God. Finally coughed up.

Shush. I can't divulge my sources. Page two. Second paragraph.

See who the minister is?

SHE CHUCKLES

Dynamite.

Speaking at the civil defence press conference. I'm coming.

-Me too.

-My bloody story.

Then how do you plan to use it?

Ask for a one-to-one, post press conference.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Ah, good. Working as a team.

Mr Brown, I want a word.

Busy now. My office, 4.00.

I've got one of them. Downstairs flat.

-It's empty if you want it.

-Really? It's for Sey.

The doctor?

He's been thrown out three times now. Rent's doubled twice.

He's threatening to return to Nigeria.

£1.03 a week. It's a bit scruffy.

Really?

-Wouldn't he be happier back home?

-Oh, don't be silly, he is home.

Still?

Desperation never succeeds, Isaac.

Really? So what's your method?

What can I say?

I've obviously been missed.

LIFT DOOR DINGS

Whilst there is continued threat, there is also positive action.

Every home in Britain may sleep a little safer tonight,

confident in the knowledge that if, in the event of a nuclear attack,

we find ourselves facing the worst, the British public will be protected.

Thank you.

Thank you. Lovely. The Minister will be taking questions now so,

-shall we start with...?

-Now. Stand up. Do it now.

Now?

No, Not yet. Not now.

Over there. Mr Kendall. Uncovered. ITV.

Muffed it.

Thank you, Mr McCain.

Minister, one million of these defence manuals,

I understand, have been printed,

but this is not even a fifth of what will be needed

if every home were to have one.

Do you intend to increase circulation?

Our commitment is to ensure the safety of the public

in the light of this very real nuclear threat.

-Now.

-Thank you, Minister.

-Yes, all right, now.

My contact, my question.

Oh, bloody hell, Hector.

Frederick Lyon, The Hour.

Minister, may I ask at what cost to the general public?

Well, I don't have the figures exactly.

Does the 30% increase in crime not prove

that the greater threat is at home?

We are not here to discuss crime today, Mr Lyon.

If you haven't noticed, this is in fact focusing on civil defence

and the nuclear threat.

176 murders in the past year, that's 37 more than the year before.

A surge in violent crime in areas of London,

particularly in Soho and the West End,

and concerns raised by leading members of Scotland Yard

that the London force is woefully understaffed.

Is your government taking crime seriously?

Absolutely. Public safety is of primary concern.

We are working hard with Scotland Yard to attempt to tackle

this rise in criminality.

Really?

I have in my hand the minutes from a recent meeting to discuss

the budgetary pressures on the Metropolitan Police.

When asked why you were cutting Scotland Yard's budget

and increasing Defence's, you replied,

"There will always be crime but when faced with total annihilation

"there is no need to waste our resources

-"on the odd body here and there.

-CROWD MURMUR

"We need to put our money slap bang in the face of the Soviets

"and the nuclear threat."

Murder victim, only of mild concern?

I'm sure that's very comforting to your voters.

Any comment that I have made...

Thank you, perhaps another question..

Is it not the truth that you are scaremongering the public into

supporting the increase in defence expenditure

-at a cost to their own safety?

-Any comment...

Good, thank you very much.

Thank you, Minister.

Welcome back!

Miss Rowley.

Deceitful. Conniving. Ubiquitous.

And yet still worthy of asking for a drink.

Had I known that you worked for Uncovered...

Congratulations, The Hour has just broken quite a story.

I'm sure Uncovered are already writing it up.

Every broadsheet and broadcaster will do just that,

but no-one can deny its source.

Perhaps I didn't make our position clear.

If you try to steal Mr Madden from The Hour

-I will personally hunt you down...

-I look forward to it.

Mr Lyon.

A man with nerve, challenging the Minister.

They've executed men for less.

Mr Madden. You have some competition.

Um, Mr Lyon is The Hour's new co-host.

Interesting.

-Isn't it?

-I'd kill to know where you acquired that quote.

I was given it in the strictest confidence.

I'm not in the habit of divulging my sources.

Miss Rowley, Mr Lyon.

Nice chap.

It's deceptive.

Ah, interested to know where you got those minutes.

Well, no-one's to be trusted in Westminster, Angus. You know that.

Bit late for breakfast.

When you're away you crave the home comforts,

then when you return you forget why you missed them at all

and long for the things you have left behind.

I grieve for the croissant.

I will not apologise.

I offer no regrets and I will not talk about the past. Is that clear?

Whatever game you are playing I am not interested,

I simply do not know why you are here.

Oh, for God's sake, Randall.

In what insane way could you possibly think it was a good idea

for you to come here, for you to work here?

Dust on the lens.

Didn't I always tell you what happens

if you leave the cap off the lens?

Get this down to the soup kitchen

and ask them to develop it sooner than quick.

Yes, Mr Lyon.

What?

Isaac has virtually been running the home desk in your absence.

And I'm back.

Tread carefully.

HE CHUCKLES

What, Isaac? He can't be trusted to run an entire desk.

Oh, so what are you suggesting, that you write and present now?

Yes.

You see, this? This, I haven't missed.

Egotism, the childish belief that you can do...control everything.

You can't.

This is what keeps you on your toes.

This is what stops you from merging into

-some amoebic primitive life form.

-SHE TUTS

We have just broken a brilliant story. Admit it.

I thought I might lead with the death of Dior.

-Absurd. You're not serious? Dior?

-Please.

You speak of the founder of one of the world's finest fashion houses.

You are wasted. You are really wasted here.

Call Tatler immediately or, even better, Vogue.

You're pleased. Just say it.

Just let me hear it from your lips.

Bravo. Yes. It was one of my better ideas.

Ha-ha! It's all in the execution.

Of course, we will lead with my police story.

Don't worry, you'll get your moment in the sun.

And, by the way, who's been dressing you?

The beard has to go but the suit...

The suit is nice.

You've rearranged yourself.

A little. A lot.

It was a good trip?

It was. You come back...

Maybe it was the light,

everything just seemed clearer, brighter,

I realised what I wanted.

Um, I left something for you on your desk. My little Soho obsession.

Sorry.

No. No, you stay here. It's your desk now.

You seem to be managing very well.

I'll stick to writing copy and fitting in where I can.

And anyway the view is...

The view is better here.

I know you. Mr Cilenti.

I'm late, I know. I'm sorry, darling.

Did you order?

Two fingers, please. No ice.

Telegraph is in. Lunching with the Sunday Times.

How is your new Head of News?

HE SIGHS

Neurotics and traitors, that's all they can send us.

Well, I'm sure once he's settled in...

Always the optimist, darling,

but what transformative powers can he really offer?

Mr Lyon is back. Bloody stole my story this morning.

Really. But how?

It's all change at the top. Well, they'd better get ready,

because they should be paying me treble what they're paying.

It's an insult. I said so at the last review.

This time they'd better do a bloody sight better. Thank you.

I wonder what Mr Lyon is on.

Can you believe they've asked him to co-host?

But he might just be what's needed.

You'll still be the lead presenter.

Exactly, I present. But I could be doing much, much more.

I'm a valuable commodity, to be drawn from.

I could be shaping the show. My input doesn't count for anything.

Sorry. Am I boring you?

Yes, you are. You are boring me.

I am bored.

I spend my days trying to break the monotony of homemaking

when there is nothing to home-make for.

Darling.

18 months of trying, Hector.

I want you to go and see Dr Blakeson.

You should play some bridge, you haven't played bridge for months.

Don't wait up.

LOUD MUSIC ECHOES

Good evening, Miss Delaine.

Cover it with your hair.

I'll tell the boy to bring the lights down quickly

on your final number.

HE SIGHS

You OK?

See what happens when you don't listen to me?

Angel girl.

Interesting.

That's what I thought. Second suit, same face, 15 years younger.

They look like the Marx Brothers.

It's something to think about.

Background on recent unsolved killings.

Ignoring the obvious scenes of domestic violence,

it's the random acts of brutality,

the beatings in the back alley in the West End that really stay with you.

This is crime as a means of control.

Makes you wonder who's in charge.

So the word is you're leaking our scoops?

We are the scoop.

Paying off already, Mr Lyon.

I hear ITV had their cameras in and all eyes were on you.

Someone's nose is going to be out of joint.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Yes?

You missed our four o'clock.

Christ, it's going home time already?

I hear it went well today.

Yes.

Mr Lyon is back.

You're an alcoholic.

That was the first sentence my Head of News ever said to me.

The second? "Congratulations, you're in good company."

Think of Mr Lyon as your very own Sputnik-2.

The beep-beep on your radar.

A constant reminder that someone is flying high

and for once it's not us.

Good for you. Makes you work harder.

Are you trying to oust me?

No, I'm confident you are doing a perfectly good job of that yourself.

You fail to make one more editorial meeting

or are late back from one more lunch,

and I will personally escort you from this building.

You should know that my father-in-law is on the board.

That has only sustained you for so long.

Your contract's up for review. Don't ask for any more.

You are trying to oust me. That's why you've brought him back.

Mr Lyon may not have your presentational skills or charm,

but he can be relied upon to deliver an unquestionably good story

and THAT is what is wanted now.

You nasty little man.

-Sorry?

-Wheedling your way in.

HE LAUGHS

I'm not wheedling. I've come back through the front door.

Last time I was marched out the back and where were you?

Quaffing champagne with your chums.

Don't patronise me.

Why not? It's what you've always done to me.

I should thank you, it was the best thing that could have happened.

I went somewhere. America, and you know what?

Being a nobody in a country where everybody thinks

they can be a somebody, that's infectious. It's exciting.

I want that.

For me.

Keep up, Hector.

THE DOOR SLAMS Hector...

What did you say to him?

-The obvious.

-Marvellous.

Well, that went well.

Your father died.

It comes to us all.

The most important event and the most poignant loss in a man's life.

Freud.

He didn't get on with his father. Yet he blamed himself for his death.

It accounted in part for his obsession with his own mortality

and an ever-nagging guilt that he believed follows when a father dies

and his child lives.

When my father died, I bought a boat.

One of many rash decisions. And you?

I'm sorry?

One can't be driven by guilt.

Shake it up. Shake it all up, Mr Lyon.

Glad you haven't disappointed.

Oh, the GPO are planning to introduce "postcodes" rather than addresses.

Orwell was right. We are all numbers.

Miss Storm.

Well done. You've decimated the team in the space of 24 hours.

Actually, I hope it's the opposite of that.

Miss Rowley.

Thank you, Sissy.

She's a brilliant producer.

I never doubted it.

But no harm in checking her pulse from time to time.

He, um, staying too?

Definitely.

Are you off?

Yes, I've got a date with a packet of Fairmount

and the last chapter of my book.

You?

Oh, I thought I might go home.

You know, really, darling, you are not getting any younger.

Surprise me. Buy a bottle of wine, drink yourself silly

and dance all night with some inappropriate man, like you used to.

Much better than staying in with a good book.

Me? I'm old, I've made my mistakes.

But you? Too pretty. Don't let it go to waste.

Run away for too long and they stop loving you back.

-Good night, Miss Bishop.

-Goodnight.

Goodnight, Miss Storm.

Mr Madden, so glad you could join us again this evening.

Your usual table?

No. Not tonight.

This is Ed and Tom.

Good evening, Mrs Goldman.

Nice to have you home again, Freddie.

Thank you, Mrs Goldman.

She's very pretty. Is this her?

What? Nah. I'm just helping me fella move in.

No, no, no. This isn't her, Mrs Goldman.

We've been watching you and we like your style. The Hour is very impressive.

Undoubtedly, it's your ship and you sail it well.

We'd just like to see you sail it over to our side.

Thank you.

It's not much to look at, but you can give it a coat of paint or...

-Anyway, I hope it's all right.

-It's perfect. Thank you.

I'll just get the next box.

Moneypenny.

Don't say anything. Let's just...

say hello and start from there, all right?

I've brought wine and steak and even rum baba.

Freddie?

It's just me, Camille.

I'm chopping onion.

This is Sey.

Oh, hello.

And Sissy.

And this is Miss Rowley.

Oh. So delighted to meet you. Freddie has spoken so much of you.

And this is...

my wife.

-Um...Camille?

-Yes.

Like the film, with Greta Garbo and...

Robert Taylor.

Robert Taylor.

Married?

-Yes.

-Two months ago.

Just outside of Paris.

Ooh, how romantic!

Um... I should get, um... I have to go now.

Bel?

Bel.

Married.

That's wonderful. And it's... it's just what you need.

I mean, it's what you deserve and I...I just couldn't...

I couldn't be happier for you.

After you.

Thank you.

Austin Hereford? Very nice.

-Is it yours?

-Nah. It's my boyfriend's.

Filthy nigger!

THEY LAUGH

-What happened to you?

-None of your beeswax.

-I'd never let my fella do that.

-Don't worry. He's got what's coming to him.

# You must never do a tango with an Eskimo

# No, no, no Oh, dear, no

# When a lady from Nebraska's at a party in Alaska

# She must never do a tango with an Eskimo

# You can do it with Aladdin, from Manila to Manhattan... #

SONG CONTINUES

Busy tonight?

All the usual suspects.

You must be doing something right, Detective. Your deal.

# You'll get the breeze up And you'll end up with a freeze up

# You must never do a tango with an Eskimo

# No, no, no, no, no, no No, no, no. #

# You must never do a tango with an Eskimo

# No, no, no Oh, no, no... #

One, two, three four...

Oi!

She won't withdraw the charges.

Hector, what have you done?

-He didn't do it.

-I hope you're right.

You've been sniffing around my team. I'd rather you didn't do that.

A prophet or an achiever must never mind an occasional absurdity.

You're giving airtime to a fascist?

I have been very worried about. Mr Madden of late.

So much more fun in the dark.

'They are very serious allegations.'

-Who did it?

-I bet you have a past.

Bet you do, too.

-Your husband must be very proud of you.

-Absolutely.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd