Neverwhere s01e03 Episode Script
Earl's Court to Islington
RICHARD: There's no such things as angels.
MARQUIS: And there's no rat-speakers, no shepherds in Shepherd's Bush.
RICHARD: There are no shepherds in Shepherd's Bush.
MARQUIS: The only way I know to get to Islington is long and very dangerous.
DOOR: Earl's Court has all the shortcuts in the Underside.
MARQUIS: I'm not exactly flavour of the month at Earl's Court, my lady.
We'll burn that bridge when we come to it.
RICHARD: Let me get this straight.
We've to go to Islington to see an angel and the quickest way's through Earl's Court? MARQUIS: What a refreshing mind you have, Richard Mayhew.
There really is nothing like total ignorance, is there? It's Lear, isn't it? We're off to Earl's Court.
Would you have a timetable about your person? What would be in it for me, if I did? They say that Merlin's master, Blaze, once wrote a reel so beguiling, it would charm the coins from the pockets of anyone who heard it.
That would be worth more than just a timetable, Marquis, if you had it.
Why, then you'd owe me, wouldn't you? Let me hear the reel first, you old trickster.
(GUITAR REEL PLAYING ON CASSETTE PLAYER) (PLAYING REEL ON GUITAR) -I owe you a favour then, you rascal.
-Yes, you do.
Don't overuse it.
A little goes a long way.
(PLAYING REEL ON GUITAR) (COINS CLINKING) Mind the gap.
What? Just mind the gap.
-1 0 minutes till the Earl's Court train.
-Earl's Court isn't on the Central line.
Just stand over there.
MAN OVER PA: Mind the gap.
Good evening.
I am the Marquis de Carabas.
I've agreed to help a young lady called Door find out who killed her family.
I've obtained a bodyguard for her and I'm looking after her as if she were the most important thing under the world, which she may be.
Unfortunately, she has insisted on bringing along a stray from London Above over my protests.
There's going to be trouble.
Trouble.
Trouble.
(CROAKING) (SPLATTERING) We should butcher the bitch.
Annul, cancel, inhume, amortise her.
Oh, it's you.
At present, as you requested, she is walking around as free as a daisy.
What about the Upworlder then? Why can't we kill him? Scare him? We're cut-throats, assassins, not scarecrows.
May I remind you that Mr Vandemar and I burnt down Troy.
(YELLING) -Who was that? -Who the hell do you think it was? -A scarecrow? -Our employer.
Scarecrows.
The best way to scare crows, you just creep up behind them, put your hand round their little crow necks and squeeze till they don't move any more.
That scares the stuffing out of them.
-Who knocks? -MARQUIS: Lady Door and her companions.
Halt.
State your business.
-An audience with His Grace, the Earl.
-What does the young girl say, Halvard? They seek an audience, Your Grace.
They do? Splendid.
-Who are they? -I am the Lady Door.
-Lord Portico was my father.
-Portico's oldest girl? Well, come down here.
Come, come.
Let me look at you.
We were all devastated to hear of your father's Well, all your family was He tried to bring us all together, you know.
I had the warmest regards for him.
Full of ideas.
Who else is with you? Who are you? Me? Um My name? It's Richard Mayhew.
Me? Nuncle, 'tis not a man, but a moon-calf.
And this is my bodyguard.
Her name is Hunter.
The Hunter? The same, Your Grace.
-I heard you went away.
-I came back.
Go on, say something funny.
My hound hath no nose.
What's he doing here? DOOR: The Marquis has agreed to help me, Your Grace.
He's my I will not stand for it.
I will not.
Make him come forward.
I know you, de Carabas.
I haven't forgotten.
I may be old, but I haven't forgotten.
Might I respectfully remind His Grace that we had a deal? I negotiated the peace treaty between you and Ravenscourt.
In return, you agreed to provide a little favour.
Little favour.
Is that what you call it? I lost a dozen men to your foolishness.
I lost an eye in the retreat from White City.
If I may say, Your Grace, that fetching patch sets off your face perfectly.
Your Grace, de Carabas is here with me as my companion He's abused my trust.
I swore that, if ever he entered my domain again, I'd have him gutted and dried like Gutted and dried -Perchance, a kipper, my lord? -It's of no matter.
Guards, seize him.
I will take an act of violence against my companion as an act of aggression against myself and my house.
But I won't have him here.
My lady, I obviously will be of more use to you off this train than on, and I do have other avenues to explore.
Just get off.
And next time Kipper.
I'll see myself out.
Where are my manners? You must be hungry after your journey.
Halvard.
Right.
What brings you here to me? Indirectly, Your Grace, my father's death.
-You seek vengeance.
-I seek the Angel Islington.
(CLAMOURING) (COINS CLINKING) Get back.
Go home.
Get away.
Stop pushing.
Move back.
Keep away from me.
I told you not to overuse it.
Naughty.
-Help me.
-There is a counter charm.
Anything.
(GUITAR MUSIC ON CASSETTE PLAYER) Well, what favour is it this time? Theft? Arson? Murder.
Theft, I'm afraid.
I find myself in rather urgent need of a piece of Tang dynasty sculpture.
A toast to our guests, a child, a bravo and a fool.
May they each get what they deserve.
In the old days, we drank wine.
I preferred wine.
It was much less sticky.
He's agreed to help us.
Come on, he's meeting us in the library.
Library? OLD BAILEY: Will you stop squabbling? You're driving me mad.
(OLD BAILEY IMITATING SQUAWKING) All the time, never stops.
(SQUAWKING) -Anybody home? -Who is it? Oh.
Oh, it's you.
What do you want? Knowledge or birds? -I need some information.
-There's a turn-up for the books.
Psst.
Ah, there you are.
(CHUCKLING) Now, there's a reason why I asked you to come here.
-It'll come to me.
-The Angel Islington, Your Grace? I sent old Portico to Islington the first time he came to me.
And how do we get there? Only once, down the quick way.
After that, take the long way down.
-Dangerous.
-And the quick way is? No, no.
No, need to be an Opener to use it.
Only good for Portico family.
Your Grace, I am Portico's eldest daughter.
Of course you are.
How is your father? Keeping well, I hope.
Fine man.
-How do we get to the Angel Islington? -Use the Angelus, of course.
There you go.
It's all in there.
And I suppose I'd better drop you off where you need to go.
You'll drop us off? -In a train? -Think nothing of it.
Anything for Portico's daughter.
(EARL CHUCKLING) -What will you trade for information? -What do you need? Maybe I should do what you do.
Ask for a favour, as an investment.
Much too expensive in the long run.
Well, shoes then and a balaclava and some new gloves.
It's gonna be a bastard winter.
Very well.
I'll bring them to you.
Now, what can you tell me about this? That's the Great Beast of London.
They say that, way back before the Plague and the Fire, there was a butcher, lived down by the Fleet Ditch.
He had this creature, poor creature, he was fattening up for Christmas, but it ran away.
It ran into the Fleet, vanished into the sewers.
It fed on the sewage and it grew and it grew, and it got meaner and nastier.
They sent in hunting parties after it.
They never came back.
It must have died 300 years ago.
Things like that are too vicious to die.
Too old and big and nasty.
I thought it was just a legend, like the alligators in New York's sewers.
What, the big white ones? Oh, they're down there.
I had a friend who lost a head to one of them.
He was all right.
He had another one.
Hey, how about this thing? Are you ready to take it back? Fair gives me the creeping shivers having it around.
I'll take it back when all this is over.
Let's hope you don't have to use it.
How will I know if I don't? You'll know.
And the rats will tell you what to do with it.
I hope I never finds out.
That's all I can say.
Oi, don't forget the shoeses and gloveses.
-What station is this? -DOOR: British Museum.
-There isn't a British Museum station.
-There isn't? Then you must be very careful getting off.
You hear that, Tooley? I'm as funny as you are.
My mirth is positively uncontainable, Your Grace.
Off, off.
Goodbye, goodbye.
-This is all wrong.
-It was shut in 1 933 and sealed off.
-Are there many like this? It's bizarre.
-About 50.
-Up there, through that door.
-It's sealed.
We'd need special tools.
Richard, my family, we're Openers.
It's our talent.
-You are going to London Above? -Yeah.
British Museum.
I am your bodyguard in London Below.
I cannot go with you to London Above.
Hunter, you're my bodyguard.
I must stay in London Below.
-But you have to.
-My lady, I cannot.
Right.
Come on, Richard.
Look, why don't we all stay down here together and then we can find the Marquis and we can all go together? Door.
It's all in there.
We get in, find the Angelus, we get out.
Easy.
Nothing to it.
-Close your eyes.
-Nothing to it? Every time someone says that in films, it always means something awful is gonna happen.
(SCREAMING) (RICHARD GROANS) You can open your eyes now.
I wish I'd stayed downstairs with the bodyguard.
Shit.
What, no Mr I'm-so-clever-and- know-everything Marquis? No oh-didn't-I-tell-you-whoops- I-can't-go-upstairs Hunter? Well, paint me grey and call me a dire wolf.
If it isn't two little lost lambkins out on their own after dark.
Leave us alone.
If you want to hurt her, you'll have to kill me first.
All right.
Thanks.
That's not why we're here right now.
No.
We're here to make it more interesting.
You visited Earl's Court.
-So? -How did we know that? -How did we know where to find you now? -Can get to you any time at all.
You've been sold out, little ladybird.
There's a traitor in the nest.
A cuckoo.
Come on.
-Bid them farewell, Mr Vandemar.
-Bye-bye.
No, no, no, no.
Au revoir.
Cuckoo, cuckoo.
(HOWLING) A traitor? They're just winding us up.
They're trying to scare us.
They're doing a good job of it, too.
According to this, the Angelus is just through there.
The Angelus is what? This says it's got a picture of an angel on it.
It can't be hard to find.
I mean, how many things with angels on them are there here? I saw that.
Jessica, 7:30.
They're going to riot.
The invitation said 7:00.
Don't exaggerate, Clarence.
Mr Stockton is on his way.
He must have his private view first.
Right, executive decision.
I'm letting them in.
No.
If you Baroness.
All right.
I've stopped two toss-pots carving their initials on the Rosetta Stone.
-I hate these functions.
-I told you.
It's the Masque of the Red Death again.
Decadent, elite parties while civilisation crumbles about their ears.
Thank you, Gerald.
Last one of these dos, we found someone had puked in a sarcophagus.
If you're part of London Below, they normally don't even notice you exist unless you stop and talk to them, and even then they forget you.
-But I saw you.
-I know.
Isn't that odd? -Everything's odd.
-The Angelus is in there.
-And how do you know that? -I just know.
Scare her.
Scare her.
-That we should be brought to this.
-Should have followed my idea.
I would've scared her more if I'd pulled his head off while she wasn't looking, then put my hand up through his throat and wiggled my fingers about.
-They scream when the eyes pop out.
-Why get so squeamish at this stage? I'm not squeamish, Mr Croup.
I like it when the eyeballs fall out.
-Peepers and tarrywags.
-Not you.
The Governor.
Kill them.
Kidnap them.
Scare them.
Why doesn't he make up his mind? Oh.
Well caught, Mr Vandemar.
Still, we put the cat amongst the pigeons.
(CRUNCHING) Would I be being picky if I pointed out that trying to find something in here with an angel on it is like trying to find a needle in a Oh, my God, it's Jessica.
As long as you don't do anything stupid like talk to her, she won't notice you.
Food.
See anything? It's like playing Spot the Pigeon in Trafalgar Square.
Nothing feels like the Angelus.
The paper said I'd know when I saw it.
How are you, Jessica? Are you with the media? You have the advantage You're Jessica Barton.
You're a marketing executive at Stockton's.
You're 26.
Your birthday's April 2 3rd.
And in the throes of extreme passion, you have this disconcerting tendency of humming the Monkees' I'm a Believer.
Is this some kind of a joke? Oh, and we've been engaged for the last 1 8 months.
I think I'd know if I'd been engaged to someone for the last 1 8 months, Mr Mayhew.
Richard.
You chucked me and I don't exist any more.
Be right with you.
I'm a believer.
I couldn't leave her if I tried -I think you'd better call security.
-Okay.
Why? Just Just get me security.
Mr Stockton, sir, lovely to see you.
Just come through.
Stand right here.
I'll just Welcome to the British Museum and the Stockton's sponsored exhibition, Angels Over England, and the man behind it, Chief Executive and Chairman, Mr Arnold Stockton.
Right, well, this won't take long.
When I was a young boy, I used to come to the British Museum every Saturday because it was free.
We didn't have much money.
I'd climb the big steps to the museum, then I'd come round the back here, down to this room, and look up at this angel.
It was like it knew what I was thinking.
But, like anything that's let go, the angel decayed, fell apart, went rotten.
It has taken a shit-full of money and a dozen craftsmen have spent some considerable time restoring it, fixing it up.
From here, the exhibition will go to America and around the world.
Maybe it'll inspire another poor little penniless bugger to get his own media empire.
What next? (PEOPLE GASPING) The Angelus.
Richard, come on.
-Excuse me, sir, can I have a word? -Get out of my way.
(SCREAMING) Sorry, wrong London.
-Went well.
-Right.
What's that security guard doing in here? I I'll deal with it, Jessica.
Hello, boys.
I thought it high time I came down here in person to talk to you.
What do you want? What does anybody want? Dead things.
Extra teeth.
I thought, perhaps, we could make a deal.
(LAUGHING) Oh, my dear Marquis, I think I can confidently state with no risk of contradiction from any parties here present, that you have taken leave of whatever senses you are reputed to have had.
You are, if you permit the vulgarism, completely off your head.
Say the word, Mr Croup, and I'll bite his neck before he can say Jack Ketch.
I have always thought that violence was the last refuge of the incompetent, and empty threats the last refuge of the terminally inept.
What are you doing here? -The Lady Door? -Yes.
It is a great honour finally to meet you and your companion.
I am the Angel Islington.
MARQUIS: And there's no rat-speakers, no shepherds in Shepherd's Bush.
RICHARD: There are no shepherds in Shepherd's Bush.
MARQUIS: The only way I know to get to Islington is long and very dangerous.
DOOR: Earl's Court has all the shortcuts in the Underside.
MARQUIS: I'm not exactly flavour of the month at Earl's Court, my lady.
We'll burn that bridge when we come to it.
RICHARD: Let me get this straight.
We've to go to Islington to see an angel and the quickest way's through Earl's Court? MARQUIS: What a refreshing mind you have, Richard Mayhew.
There really is nothing like total ignorance, is there? It's Lear, isn't it? We're off to Earl's Court.
Would you have a timetable about your person? What would be in it for me, if I did? They say that Merlin's master, Blaze, once wrote a reel so beguiling, it would charm the coins from the pockets of anyone who heard it.
That would be worth more than just a timetable, Marquis, if you had it.
Why, then you'd owe me, wouldn't you? Let me hear the reel first, you old trickster.
(GUITAR REEL PLAYING ON CASSETTE PLAYER) (PLAYING REEL ON GUITAR) -I owe you a favour then, you rascal.
-Yes, you do.
Don't overuse it.
A little goes a long way.
(PLAYING REEL ON GUITAR) (COINS CLINKING) Mind the gap.
What? Just mind the gap.
-1 0 minutes till the Earl's Court train.
-Earl's Court isn't on the Central line.
Just stand over there.
MAN OVER PA: Mind the gap.
Good evening.
I am the Marquis de Carabas.
I've agreed to help a young lady called Door find out who killed her family.
I've obtained a bodyguard for her and I'm looking after her as if she were the most important thing under the world, which she may be.
Unfortunately, she has insisted on bringing along a stray from London Above over my protests.
There's going to be trouble.
Trouble.
Trouble.
(CROAKING) (SPLATTERING) We should butcher the bitch.
Annul, cancel, inhume, amortise her.
Oh, it's you.
At present, as you requested, she is walking around as free as a daisy.
What about the Upworlder then? Why can't we kill him? Scare him? We're cut-throats, assassins, not scarecrows.
May I remind you that Mr Vandemar and I burnt down Troy.
(YELLING) -Who was that? -Who the hell do you think it was? -A scarecrow? -Our employer.
Scarecrows.
The best way to scare crows, you just creep up behind them, put your hand round their little crow necks and squeeze till they don't move any more.
That scares the stuffing out of them.
-Who knocks? -MARQUIS: Lady Door and her companions.
Halt.
State your business.
-An audience with His Grace, the Earl.
-What does the young girl say, Halvard? They seek an audience, Your Grace.
They do? Splendid.
-Who are they? -I am the Lady Door.
-Lord Portico was my father.
-Portico's oldest girl? Well, come down here.
Come, come.
Let me look at you.
We were all devastated to hear of your father's Well, all your family was He tried to bring us all together, you know.
I had the warmest regards for him.
Full of ideas.
Who else is with you? Who are you? Me? Um My name? It's Richard Mayhew.
Me? Nuncle, 'tis not a man, but a moon-calf.
And this is my bodyguard.
Her name is Hunter.
The Hunter? The same, Your Grace.
-I heard you went away.
-I came back.
Go on, say something funny.
My hound hath no nose.
What's he doing here? DOOR: The Marquis has agreed to help me, Your Grace.
He's my I will not stand for it.
I will not.
Make him come forward.
I know you, de Carabas.
I haven't forgotten.
I may be old, but I haven't forgotten.
Might I respectfully remind His Grace that we had a deal? I negotiated the peace treaty between you and Ravenscourt.
In return, you agreed to provide a little favour.
Little favour.
Is that what you call it? I lost a dozen men to your foolishness.
I lost an eye in the retreat from White City.
If I may say, Your Grace, that fetching patch sets off your face perfectly.
Your Grace, de Carabas is here with me as my companion He's abused my trust.
I swore that, if ever he entered my domain again, I'd have him gutted and dried like Gutted and dried -Perchance, a kipper, my lord? -It's of no matter.
Guards, seize him.
I will take an act of violence against my companion as an act of aggression against myself and my house.
But I won't have him here.
My lady, I obviously will be of more use to you off this train than on, and I do have other avenues to explore.
Just get off.
And next time Kipper.
I'll see myself out.
Where are my manners? You must be hungry after your journey.
Halvard.
Right.
What brings you here to me? Indirectly, Your Grace, my father's death.
-You seek vengeance.
-I seek the Angel Islington.
(CLAMOURING) (COINS CLINKING) Get back.
Go home.
Get away.
Stop pushing.
Move back.
Keep away from me.
I told you not to overuse it.
Naughty.
-Help me.
-There is a counter charm.
Anything.
(GUITAR MUSIC ON CASSETTE PLAYER) Well, what favour is it this time? Theft? Arson? Murder.
Theft, I'm afraid.
I find myself in rather urgent need of a piece of Tang dynasty sculpture.
A toast to our guests, a child, a bravo and a fool.
May they each get what they deserve.
In the old days, we drank wine.
I preferred wine.
It was much less sticky.
He's agreed to help us.
Come on, he's meeting us in the library.
Library? OLD BAILEY: Will you stop squabbling? You're driving me mad.
(OLD BAILEY IMITATING SQUAWKING) All the time, never stops.
(SQUAWKING) -Anybody home? -Who is it? Oh.
Oh, it's you.
What do you want? Knowledge or birds? -I need some information.
-There's a turn-up for the books.
Psst.
Ah, there you are.
(CHUCKLING) Now, there's a reason why I asked you to come here.
-It'll come to me.
-The Angel Islington, Your Grace? I sent old Portico to Islington the first time he came to me.
And how do we get there? Only once, down the quick way.
After that, take the long way down.
-Dangerous.
-And the quick way is? No, no.
No, need to be an Opener to use it.
Only good for Portico family.
Your Grace, I am Portico's eldest daughter.
Of course you are.
How is your father? Keeping well, I hope.
Fine man.
-How do we get to the Angel Islington? -Use the Angelus, of course.
There you go.
It's all in there.
And I suppose I'd better drop you off where you need to go.
You'll drop us off? -In a train? -Think nothing of it.
Anything for Portico's daughter.
(EARL CHUCKLING) -What will you trade for information? -What do you need? Maybe I should do what you do.
Ask for a favour, as an investment.
Much too expensive in the long run.
Well, shoes then and a balaclava and some new gloves.
It's gonna be a bastard winter.
Very well.
I'll bring them to you.
Now, what can you tell me about this? That's the Great Beast of London.
They say that, way back before the Plague and the Fire, there was a butcher, lived down by the Fleet Ditch.
He had this creature, poor creature, he was fattening up for Christmas, but it ran away.
It ran into the Fleet, vanished into the sewers.
It fed on the sewage and it grew and it grew, and it got meaner and nastier.
They sent in hunting parties after it.
They never came back.
It must have died 300 years ago.
Things like that are too vicious to die.
Too old and big and nasty.
I thought it was just a legend, like the alligators in New York's sewers.
What, the big white ones? Oh, they're down there.
I had a friend who lost a head to one of them.
He was all right.
He had another one.
Hey, how about this thing? Are you ready to take it back? Fair gives me the creeping shivers having it around.
I'll take it back when all this is over.
Let's hope you don't have to use it.
How will I know if I don't? You'll know.
And the rats will tell you what to do with it.
I hope I never finds out.
That's all I can say.
Oi, don't forget the shoeses and gloveses.
-What station is this? -DOOR: British Museum.
-There isn't a British Museum station.
-There isn't? Then you must be very careful getting off.
You hear that, Tooley? I'm as funny as you are.
My mirth is positively uncontainable, Your Grace.
Off, off.
Goodbye, goodbye.
-This is all wrong.
-It was shut in 1 933 and sealed off.
-Are there many like this? It's bizarre.
-About 50.
-Up there, through that door.
-It's sealed.
We'd need special tools.
Richard, my family, we're Openers.
It's our talent.
-You are going to London Above? -Yeah.
British Museum.
I am your bodyguard in London Below.
I cannot go with you to London Above.
Hunter, you're my bodyguard.
I must stay in London Below.
-But you have to.
-My lady, I cannot.
Right.
Come on, Richard.
Look, why don't we all stay down here together and then we can find the Marquis and we can all go together? Door.
It's all in there.
We get in, find the Angelus, we get out.
Easy.
Nothing to it.
-Close your eyes.
-Nothing to it? Every time someone says that in films, it always means something awful is gonna happen.
(SCREAMING) (RICHARD GROANS) You can open your eyes now.
I wish I'd stayed downstairs with the bodyguard.
Shit.
What, no Mr I'm-so-clever-and- know-everything Marquis? No oh-didn't-I-tell-you-whoops- I-can't-go-upstairs Hunter? Well, paint me grey and call me a dire wolf.
If it isn't two little lost lambkins out on their own after dark.
Leave us alone.
If you want to hurt her, you'll have to kill me first.
All right.
Thanks.
That's not why we're here right now.
No.
We're here to make it more interesting.
You visited Earl's Court.
-So? -How did we know that? -How did we know where to find you now? -Can get to you any time at all.
You've been sold out, little ladybird.
There's a traitor in the nest.
A cuckoo.
Come on.
-Bid them farewell, Mr Vandemar.
-Bye-bye.
No, no, no, no.
Au revoir.
Cuckoo, cuckoo.
(HOWLING) A traitor? They're just winding us up.
They're trying to scare us.
They're doing a good job of it, too.
According to this, the Angelus is just through there.
The Angelus is what? This says it's got a picture of an angel on it.
It can't be hard to find.
I mean, how many things with angels on them are there here? I saw that.
Jessica, 7:30.
They're going to riot.
The invitation said 7:00.
Don't exaggerate, Clarence.
Mr Stockton is on his way.
He must have his private view first.
Right, executive decision.
I'm letting them in.
No.
If you Baroness.
All right.
I've stopped two toss-pots carving their initials on the Rosetta Stone.
-I hate these functions.
-I told you.
It's the Masque of the Red Death again.
Decadent, elite parties while civilisation crumbles about their ears.
Thank you, Gerald.
Last one of these dos, we found someone had puked in a sarcophagus.
If you're part of London Below, they normally don't even notice you exist unless you stop and talk to them, and even then they forget you.
-But I saw you.
-I know.
Isn't that odd? -Everything's odd.
-The Angelus is in there.
-And how do you know that? -I just know.
Scare her.
Scare her.
-That we should be brought to this.
-Should have followed my idea.
I would've scared her more if I'd pulled his head off while she wasn't looking, then put my hand up through his throat and wiggled my fingers about.
-They scream when the eyes pop out.
-Why get so squeamish at this stage? I'm not squeamish, Mr Croup.
I like it when the eyeballs fall out.
-Peepers and tarrywags.
-Not you.
The Governor.
Kill them.
Kidnap them.
Scare them.
Why doesn't he make up his mind? Oh.
Well caught, Mr Vandemar.
Still, we put the cat amongst the pigeons.
(CRUNCHING) Would I be being picky if I pointed out that trying to find something in here with an angel on it is like trying to find a needle in a Oh, my God, it's Jessica.
As long as you don't do anything stupid like talk to her, she won't notice you.
Food.
See anything? It's like playing Spot the Pigeon in Trafalgar Square.
Nothing feels like the Angelus.
The paper said I'd know when I saw it.
How are you, Jessica? Are you with the media? You have the advantage You're Jessica Barton.
You're a marketing executive at Stockton's.
You're 26.
Your birthday's April 2 3rd.
And in the throes of extreme passion, you have this disconcerting tendency of humming the Monkees' I'm a Believer.
Is this some kind of a joke? Oh, and we've been engaged for the last 1 8 months.
I think I'd know if I'd been engaged to someone for the last 1 8 months, Mr Mayhew.
Richard.
You chucked me and I don't exist any more.
Be right with you.
I'm a believer.
I couldn't leave her if I tried -I think you'd better call security.
-Okay.
Why? Just Just get me security.
Mr Stockton, sir, lovely to see you.
Just come through.
Stand right here.
I'll just Welcome to the British Museum and the Stockton's sponsored exhibition, Angels Over England, and the man behind it, Chief Executive and Chairman, Mr Arnold Stockton.
Right, well, this won't take long.
When I was a young boy, I used to come to the British Museum every Saturday because it was free.
We didn't have much money.
I'd climb the big steps to the museum, then I'd come round the back here, down to this room, and look up at this angel.
It was like it knew what I was thinking.
But, like anything that's let go, the angel decayed, fell apart, went rotten.
It has taken a shit-full of money and a dozen craftsmen have spent some considerable time restoring it, fixing it up.
From here, the exhibition will go to America and around the world.
Maybe it'll inspire another poor little penniless bugger to get his own media empire.
What next? (PEOPLE GASPING) The Angelus.
Richard, come on.
-Excuse me, sir, can I have a word? -Get out of my way.
(SCREAMING) Sorry, wrong London.
-Went well.
-Right.
What's that security guard doing in here? I I'll deal with it, Jessica.
Hello, boys.
I thought it high time I came down here in person to talk to you.
What do you want? What does anybody want? Dead things.
Extra teeth.
I thought, perhaps, we could make a deal.
(LAUGHING) Oh, my dear Marquis, I think I can confidently state with no risk of contradiction from any parties here present, that you have taken leave of whatever senses you are reputed to have had.
You are, if you permit the vulgarism, completely off your head.
Say the word, Mr Croup, and I'll bite his neck before he can say Jack Ketch.
I have always thought that violence was the last refuge of the incompetent, and empty threats the last refuge of the terminally inept.
What are you doing here? -The Lady Door? -Yes.
It is a great honour finally to meet you and your companion.
I am the Angel Islington.