01x01 - Rites of Passage

[bunniefuu]

♪ Goodnight, sweetheart

♪ All my prayers are for you

♪ Goodnight, sweetheart

♪ I'll be watching o'er you

♪ Tears and partings

♪ May make us forlorn

♪ But with the dawn

♪ A new day is born... ♪

♪ 'No Limits'
by 2 Unlimited

I reckon this is the worst party

since Charles and Di's
tenth wedding anniversary.

I mean, where is everyone?
Where are the faces?

In the kitchen, of course.
Remember that old Jona Lewie record?

♪ You will always find me
In the kitchen at parties... ♪

Yeah.
I wonder what became of Jona Lewie?

Probably still in the kitchen.

Why is it when you go to a party,
there's an empty living room

and yet, the kitchen's like
the black hole of Cricklewood?

I think you mean Calcutta.

Yeah, I know.
I just said Cricklewood

because, you know,
this is Cricklewood.

By way of doing a joke, really.

Oh.

Only there is a lot of Indian food
in the kitchen.

I thought that's what
you might be alluding to. Oh.

Chicken tikka nuggets, I ask you.

My fingers look like I'm on


And the music! Compared to this,
Boney M were talented.

They have got some good stuff,
though. Look at this.

Lightnin' Slim, John Lee Hooker,

Sonny Boy Williamson.
Do you like him?

MUSIC STOPS
Brilliant.

ROCK AND ROLL SONG
This one. You know it?

Classic.

Gary, people want to dance.

DANCE MUSIC RESUMES
What people? I don't see any people.

Do you wanna dance, er...?

Ron. And no, thank you, Gary,
I think I'll sit this one out.

In fact, I think I'll give
this whole lousy party a miss.

I only got dragged along
cos my Stella's

on the same Open University course
as our hostess,

whom I presume that was.

Yeah, that's Yvonne.
Right.

Nice tight little bum, I thought.

Yeah.

But she did strike me
as a bit of a madam.

Yes. Yes, I noticed that, too.

Anyhow, I took the precaution
of sussing out

where the nearest
real ale hostelry is.

So I think I shall repair thence.
Do you fancy a good drink?

Oh, I'd love one, Ron.
But I can't really leave.

Why not?
It's my party.

Oh, no. No. Tell me you're kidding.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

So Yvonne...
With the tight little bum.

..is your...
My wife, yeah.

What I said about her
was completely out of order.

Indeed it was, Ron.

Though perfectly accurate
on both the madam and bottom fronts.

If it's your birthday,
her bottom notwithstanding,

why didn't you insist on
Sonny Boy Williamson and pork pies?

I tried. But ever since
she started this psychology course,

she's become so adept
at manipulating me,

I can't get a thought in edgeways.

I don't mind my Stella
doing this Open University course.

It's better than when she was out
boozing and getting into fights.

There you go.

Trouble with women is they know how
to make men feel like little boys.

It'd be different
if I'd ever k*lled anything.

How so?

Well, I mean, you know,
what we men lack in society today

is a rite of passage.

Our fathers,
they did National Service.

Their fathers fought in the w*r.

Experiences which marked
their shift into manhood, you know?

I mean, in A Man Named Horse,

Richard Harris
was suspended by his nipples

in order to be accepted as a Sioux.

I'd bloody "sue"
if they did that to me!

And then, of course, you've got
your apprenticeship system.

When my grandad, right,
he did his five years as a cooper.

Learning to make barrels.
The very trade.

They marked his entry into manhood
by coating him in brewer's malt,

shutting him in a barrel,
rolling him down five flights

of factory steps
and into the Thames.

It's a moment
ripe with symbolism, that.

All right, he was so badly injured,

he was never actually able
to ply his new trade, but...

I fully comprehend, Gaz. I think
that's why I feel like a man.

You see,
I was one of the last people

to do the old
hot metal print apprenticeships.

After which I was covered
head to toe in printer's ink

and thrust stark naked
into the ladies' toilet.

That's better than being a cooper.

Happy days. So what do you do?

Oh, I'm in television.

You're not famous, are you?

Have you been in anything
I've heard of?

Well, it depends.
Have you heard of Rumbelows?

Sorry?

Televisions. Plural. I repair them.

Well, used to.

Seldom go wrong these days.
And since The Who stopped touring,

you don't even get to fix the one
they've thrown out of hotel windows.

Wasn't your apprenticeship

capped with some satisfyingly
pseudo-tribal ceremony?

Nah.

The closest I came
to a rite of passage

was being forced to watch
Blankety Blank.

PSYCHOLOGY LESSON
ON TV

'..the unsuccessful negotiation
of which will invigorate neurosis,

'or a psychosis in later life.
As we know...'

GROWLS SUGGESTIVELY

'..the most crass
of popular fiction,

'that the fundamental
motivational factor

'in male psychological development

'is the urge to k*ll the father
and impregnate the mother...'

I'm really glad we paid extra
for that red-hot Dutch decoder.

Gary, I'm already
falling behind with my course.

I have to watch this.

Yeah, but tonight of all nights...
It's my birthday.

No, it was your birthday yesterday,
remember?

I gave you an expensive
Montblanc Rollerball.

And you said in that
sulky-little-boy voice,

"Oh, it's just the job
to do my worksheets with."

Well, I'm sorry, Yvonne,
I was disappointed.

When you promised me something
sleek, black and German,

I was expecting a BMW.

Or at least a date
with Boris Becker's girlfriend.

Don't you want me
to get my psychology degree?

Don't you want me to get promoted?

Don't you want us to be able to move
off this estate into a house where,

when the neighbours pull the chain,

your shower water doesn't give you
second-degree burns.

Look, all I know, you are never
gonna get a psychology degree

if you lack the insight
that on his birthday,

your husband expects a leg over.

Oh, and at the risk
of sounding conventional,

is sex all you think about?

HE SCOFFS
Yes.

Except when I'm actually doing it.

Then I think about
John Selwyn Gummer.

I find it helps me last longer.

John Selwyn Gummer, eh?
That's very interesting.

Oh, well, so, Open University
and close legs, is that right?

Look, Gary,
as soon as I finish this,

I promise to give you
such a thorough seeing-to

that for the rest of the month,

you'll be hard pressed to erect
as much as a satellite dish.

Now, just be patient.

I don't demand
physical gratification

in the middle of the Super Bowl,
do I?

All right. But if I fall asleep,
wake me up before you go-go.

Gary.
Oh, that was quick. Right. Come on.

No, the video's on the blink again.

Oh, is it?

Why is it everywhere you wanna find
in the A-Z's always in the crease?

Excuse me, I'm looking for Hugh
Gaitskell House, to pick up a telly.

Hugh Gaitskell House, yes.

Always admired Hugh Gaitskell.

Shame he d*ed so young.

Would have made
a wonderful prime minister.

Might have changed the course
of British history.

I'm sure, but where's his house?
Yes, of course. Sorry.

Always do tend
to go off on tangents.

It's what they said last time
I failed my sergeants' interview.

Hugh Gaitskell House.
Yeah.

Best thing to do is
take the first right, first left

until you come to Ducketts Passage,
go down Ducketts Passage,

take your first right, second left
and you can't miss it.

But if you do miss it,
ask at the Royal Oak. Cheers [!]

SIREN IN DISTANCE

BACKGROUND CHIT-CHAT

Afternoon.

Oh, excuse me, I'm looking
for Hugh Gaitskell House?

Hugh Gaitskell House, anyone?

Your starter for ten?

Excuse...

Oh, it's a theme pub, isn't it!

Oh, of course it is.
Yeah, very convincing.

Oh, hello.

Haven't seen you in here before.
What can I get you?

Actually, I came in for directions.
Hugh Gaitskell House?

Oh, sorry, means nothing to me.
You sure it's round here?

I asked a copper,
he said it was round the corner.

Sorry. Oh, Dad might know, though.
He knows everything, he thinks.

Dad?
Half a mo. I'm coming up.

What is it?

This gentleman wants to know
where Hugh Gaitskell lives.

Hugh Gaitskell?
Don't ring a bell with me.

This Hugh Gaitskell a regular?

Not Hugh Gaitskell.
Hugh Gaitskell House.

It's a tower block.
A what?

What do you want to know for?

You're not from 'round these parts,
are you?

No. I'm from Cricklewood...
as luck would have it.

Cricklewood?
That's south of the river, is it?

No. Why, have we declared w*r
on South London, or something?

Don't you cheek me, you young pup.

I was in both battles of the Somme.

I'm entitled to ask.
We've gotta be careful.

Careless talk costs lives.

Oh, gotcha. Yeah.
Have to stay in period. Right.

Eh?

Well, I must say,
you might be taking

this 1940s theme a bit too far.

For a start,
it doesn't seem to be much of a hit

with the crucial


Eh?

I mean,
where's the younger generation?

Where are they?

I'll tell you where they are,
they've taken the King's shilling.

Oh. And what's the King gonna do
when his gas goes out, eh?

You...
Dad! Calm down.

Look, I'm all for a laugh myself,
but Dad takes it all very seriously.

Seriously?
Britain stands alone, girl.

The Hun is poised to inv*de.

Adolf's panzers are gunning
their engines even as we speak.

Of course I take it seriously.

And I'd like to know
why you're not in blinking uniform.

Oh, erm... I'm afraid I'm not at
liberty to divulge that information.

Careless talk, all that.

Oh. Oh. Oh, I see.

Right you are, son. Mum's the word.

Does he do amateur dramatics,
your dad?

I've got to say, he's bloody good.

Oi! Ladies present.

Well, seeing as I'm here,
I think I'll have a drink.

Er, don't suppose you do lager?

Do what?

No, of course you don't.
All right, pint of Best, then.

Oh, sorry. Dad's only serving halves
for the duration.

Oh, right. OK, well, half, then.

And how much will that be, pray?
Sixpence ha'penny?

Huh! Where do you think you are,
the Ritz? It's tuppence farthing.

Happy hour, is it?

Happy?

When it went up from tuppence,
there was nearly a riot.

No, come on, seriously. How much?

I told you, it's tuppence farthing.

Would you excuse me a minute?

Oh, hello again.

Look, is the entire street
on this theme lark?

Theme? You all right, son?

You told me to ask in here about
Hugh Gaitskell House, you remember?

And they all blanked me.

Are they frightened
I'm a spy from the brewery

trying to catch them
out of character?

I sincerely hope
you're not a spy, son.

Now, who was it
you was asking after?

Hugh Gaskell, was it?

No, you gave me directions
not half hour ago.

Must have been another bobby, son.

Half an hour ago, I was doing
a bandaging demonstration

for the ARP
in the Christadelphian Hall.

Standing room only.

Though that might have been
more to do with

the appeal of Mrs Hardcastle's
rock cakes.

Of course, it's not a theme pub.

It's a dream. I'm asleep.

Ha! Oh, well,
that's all right, then.

I wonder if I'll get my leg over
with that barmaid?

I wonder if she'll turn into my
Auntie Enid, like they usually do?

I wonder what the significance
of that is?

Sorry I rushed out like that,
but I thought I saw Vera Lynn

walking down the road
with Winston Churchill.

It turned out to be
an off-duty Polish airman

with a roll of lino
over his shoulder. Easy mistake.

I hope you're not gibbering

so as I'll forget that you owe her
a tuppence farthing?

No, no, of course not.

Only, oh, seem to have come out
without any coppers on me.

No offence, Constable.

Will you take a cheque?

You cheeky Arab!
Who do you think you are?

If that's a no,
I'll have to write you an IOU.

Hey, wait a tick.
Where d'you get this?

It was a birthday present.

'Ere, Reg, you ever seen
anything like this before?

No, I have not.
As a policeman, I flatter myself

I'm on more than nodding terms

with pens, pencils
and other writing implements.

Where does the ink go, then?

"Made in Germany".

I think you've got some serious
explaining to do, Sonny Jim.

No, it was given to me
in, er... in America.

Oh, yeah, and I've just
come back from the moon [!]

Arrest him, Reg, he's a spy.

Stands to reason.
No money, German pen,

asking for some bloke
nobody's ever heard of.

Oh, don't be silly, Dad.

Don't you talk to me like that,

you'll feel the back of my hand,
young lady.

But if he was a spy,

would he be drawing attention
to himself like this?

Of course not.

He'd have English money.
An indelible pencil.

He wouldn't keep going on
about this Harry Gasket.

Who asked you? You should be
in the kitchen, getting my tea.

She has got a point, Eric.
Could be a double bluff, though.

There's only one way to find out.

You mean...
Precisely.

How d'you...?

Here you are. Read that, Fritzi.

Worcestershire b*at Warwickshire
by ten wickets.

Sorry we doubted you, son.

What did I do right?

Everyone knows the Boche
can't pronounce their Ws.

If you was a German spy,

you'd have said "Varvickshire"
and "Vor-cester-shire".

I think you owe him an apology,
Eric.

Unless he was born in Germany,
educated in England,

and then went home
to join the Nazis.

There was a flick like that
up at the Regent...

Eric, just say sorry.

What? Oh, all right.
But you still owe me for the beer.

Yeah, I know. That's why
I was looking for Hughie Gaitskell.

He owes me two quid
from before I went to the States.

Two quid! That's a lot of money.
Have you told the police?

He's just telling you.

Right you are.
Well, it's not a police matter.

Well, it will be
if you don't pay for your beer.

I tell you what, why don't you
sell me your Yankee pen?

I'll give you half a dollar for it.
I'll give you three bob.

I never said it was for sale.

Four and sevenpence ha'penny.
Four and eightpence.

All right, what do I care?
It's only a dream.

Here you are.
Half a crown, three and six,

four bob, four and thruppence,
fourpence,

fivepence, three farthings.

I took for the beer.

Yeah, I thought you might.

PLAYS THREE NOTES

♪ It's a little bit funny

♪ This feeling inside... ♪

That's nice.
Did you learn that in America? Eh?

Yeah. Well, actually, erm...
I wrote it.

You written any others?
Er... yeah, one or two.

Erm...

♪ And now the end is near

♪ And I must face
The final curtain... ♪

Hey, hey, none of them defeatist
songs in my pub, if you don't mind.

Oh, leave him alone, Dad.

Eh?
He's talented.

You could be on the wireless.

And now, live,
from the Cafe De Paris...

the tinkling tunes of...

..what's your name?

Oh. Gary. Gary Sparrow.

Phoebe Bamford.
Hi.

So, what do you do for a living?

Television repair man.
Oh.

Times must be hard for you, then.
Why's that?

Cos there hasn't been any television

since the day w*r broke out,
has there?

Dad was really browned off. He was
hoping to follow the w*r on it.

Well, obviously, during hostilities,

I've switched to other things,
you know, like radar.

What's that when it's at home?

Well, it's a radio system
used for tracking enemy...

Forget I spoke.

Oi! Oi, Phoebe,
he's not the only customer,

and you're a married woman.

We're only chatting.

Yeah, well,
make sure that's all you do.

So, where's your old man, then?

Oh, last letter I had,
he was in Tunisia.

Been gone over six months now.

Bet you miss him, eh?

Of course.

We used to go dancing, pictures...
I'll never get out now.

I could take you dancing,
if you like.

I've got a car. We could go up west.

You cheeky so-and-so!

Huh! We'd have to sit out
the slow numbers.

So, where's your gas mask, then?

What?
Here, Reg, he hasn't got a gas mask.

Oh, hasn't he, now?
Well, well, well.

I think we've got a spare one
at the station.

That's not the point.
Why hasn't he got one?

It's all very suspicious.

I haven't got a gas mask because
I'm a claustrophobic, right?

Oh, so, now he's claiming
he's from a neutral country.

What? No, claustrophobia
is a fear of confined spaces.

It's not a place.

Is he telling the truth, Reg?
He is, Eric.

I'd still ask him for his papers.

I'm getting really bored with this.

Unless, of course,
he hasn't got any papers.

No, of course I've got papers.

We German spies never go anywhere
without a copy of Mein Kampf,

a signed photograph of Adolf h*tler
and a jar of sauerkraut.

You cheeky bugger!
Oi! Ladies present.

Leave him alone, Eric.
This isn't a police state.

Anyone can see he's true blue.

GERMAN ACCENT: Thank you, officer.
Permit me to buy you a schnapps.

Very amusing. Very amusing.

Well, I ain't laughing.
I knew he was the Hun.

Oh, shut up, Eric.

AIR-RAID SIREN
Bombing's back.

Oh, right.
Down the cellar, everybody.

Come on, Gary.
Down the cellar? Quiet, please!

Why are you taking your time?
That's not a real...?

Yes, Gary.
expl*si*n

That one was too close for comfort.
Come on, Gary. You're wasting time.

Come on. Get down in the cellar!
Through there. You know the way.

Phoebe, where you been? Come on.

Get yourself down there. Come on.
Of course you can.

You're gonna get your head
blown off.

I'm not gonna like it down...
I really am a claustrophobic!

Oh, look, come on, Gary.
GARY WHINES: Let me out!

Let me out, please.

I can't stand it. Let me out.
Just let me...

FORCEFULLY EXHALES

Oh, what a brilliant dream!

Oh, I was chatting up
this gorgeous little bird,

getting on like a house on fire,

and then, there was this sort
of air-raid siren and the...

RUMBLING EXPLOSIONS
IN DISTANCE

Oh, my God, it's real!
Are you all right, son?

Here, try this.

Oi, not so fast! I'm saving that for
when the Tommies march into Berlin.

Oh, Dad. Feeling any better, Gary?

Er... yeah. Sort of.

The panic att*cks
sort of come and go.

I don't like it down here, though.

Oh, I'm so sorry.
If I'd know you was coming,

I'd have had the painters
and decorators in [!]

Tell you what, why don't we
all have a nice sing-song?

How about Run Rabbit Run?

ALL: Run, rabbit, run, rabbit

♪ Run, run, run.. ♪

Gary writes songs.
Well, not really.

Yes, you do. Lovely songs.

Do that one, you know...
"It's a bit funny."

Well, I... If you're sure.

Yeah, go on, son.

♪ It's a little bit funny

♪ This feeling inside... ♪

ALL: ..that I put down in words

♪ How wonderful life is

♪ While you're in the world. ♪

CLAPPING,
SIREN CONTINUES

That was really morale-lifting, son.
Well done.

It's all right, I suppose,

but I still say that "words"
and "world" don't rhyme.

Unless they do in German.

It really is 1940, isn't it?

My van's parked in 1993
and I'm in 1940.

Hey, I saw that. That's a tanner.

Phoebe, did you bring the till tray
down with you?

No, I-I thought you did.
Oh, no, you stupid... girl.

It ain't my fault. You never let it
out of your sight, usually.

Calm down, Eric. No-one's gonna nick
your takings during an air raid.

Oh, but haven't you heard of

Goering's cr*ck 15th airborne
Petty Cash brigade?

All right, clever d*ck.

Listen, I think they're going away.
I'm going up to check the till.

You've gotta wait for the all-clear.

It's my pub,
I'll do as I flaming well like.

Dad!

It's no good.
I've got to get out of here.

I'm sorry. I can't stay in here.

Gary, you can't go up there.

I'm just a policeman.
No-one takes...

expl*si*n
Gary!

SHATTERING GLASS
Oh, my God!

Dad!

What are you doing? You animal!

No!
He's not breathing. Dad. Dad!

Had a case like this
up Dawson in '33.

Chappy used to break into
the morgues to interfere with...

Oi! Ladies present.

Don't be stupid,
I was giving him the kiss of life.

The what?
Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

It's the only thing...
I learnt it in America.

Let him. Don't let him die, Gary.

Eurgh!

GROANS

You've got to hand it to 'em,
when it comes to kissing,

they know a thing or two,
these Yanks.

What happened?

What happened was this German spy
just saved your life.

How?
Don't ask.

Why not? It was brilliantly
resourceful, but not very manly.

Oh, my head's k*lling me.

I'm not surprised.
Look what hit you.

Gary, son, you know, you're a hero.

Phoebe, nip down the cellar
and fetch that bottle of brandy.

We might as well finish it off.

Don't go, Gary. Sing us another
one of them tunes you wrote.

Oh, no, honestly.
I'll miss my last... tram.

Don't be a stranger, son.
Come back and see us soon.

Gary...

I...

I'll walk you to the tram stop,
if you like.

Oh, no, don't put yourself out.

You saved my dad's life.

Besides, you got lost
coming here in broad daylight.

Yeah, well, maybe
just to the end of the street, then.

Do you suppose you ever
will come up this way again?

It's not on my usual route.
Oh.

So, when you said
about going dancing,

were you just taking the mick?

Well, you ARE married.
This isn't 1993.

Eh? What are you talking about?

Oh, nothing. I've just been
reading a book set in the future,

when they got up to
all sorts of things,

whether they were married or not.

Well, it's 1940.

My husband's overseas,
and God knows when he'll come home.

And I just thought it'd be nice
to go dancing with someone

who wasn't gonna
try and take advantage.

Well, there is still that two nicker
Hugh Gaitskell owes me.

Go on, get back to your dad.

If there's not a K-reg service van
parked at the end of this alley,

am I in deep trouble!

Where the hell have you been?

What time do you think it is?

I was gonna ask you that question.

It's half past 11.
What year?

Gary, what are you talking about?
I was getting worried.

And look at the state of you!

Gary, are you all right?
Has there been an accident?

Er... no.

I finished my last delivery

and I popped into this pub
for a quiet half.

Oh. Which turned
into half a dozen noisy pints.

No. Yvonne, this pub was...

Well, what happened,
the landlord tripped

and he fell down an open trapdoor
into his cellar.

And he banged his head.
He stopped breathing.

Oh, and I suppose
you gave him the kiss of life?

Yeah, I did.

Me. Gary Sparrow.
Television repair man.

Back there,
I fought for a man's life and I won.

Gary, are you winding me up?

Can't visualise me as a hero,
can you?

Frankly, no.

And get those dirty overalls
off the duvet cover.

Gary, I don't mind
if you want to go out for a drink

with your mates after work.

You don't have to lie to me.
I'm not your mother.

Good night, Gary.

Good night, sweetheart.

♪ Goodnight, sweetheart

♪ Sleep will banish sorrow

♪ Goodnight, sweetheart

♪ Till we meet tomorrow

♪ Dreams enfold you

♪ In them, dear, I'll hold you

♪ Goodnight, sweetheart

♪ Goodnight. ♪