GBH (1991) s01e06 Episode Script

1 The manor house is not a nudist colony, Mr Nelson.
I'm transferring you to the chalets and you have to go.
I don't.
- And I'm not.
- Yes, you are.
Why? Because I've told you you are, and I have to do something to protect people from you.
What? - Calm, calm, calm.
- I beg your pardon? Nothing.
Mr Nelson, I have no wish to discriminate against you because you are psychologically damaged.
I am? Me? I thought I was alone.
I sometimes thought I was the only one scared.
Be that as it may, I want you to leave the manor house now.
I'm here on holiday, I'm here with my family and my friends, I'm here to shelter from the storm.
I can't.
But where will you end up next? What shall we do, Mr Nelson? Hold a meeting, introduce you? Say to everyone, "Now, this is nice Mr Nelson, "sometimes you might wake up in bed and find him lying beside you naked, "but have no fear.
" I wasn't always like this, you know.
I wasn't.
Neither was I.
Yes? Woodlands holiday complex, seven miles north of Neath.
Yes, thank you.
Give our love to the Nelsons.
Martin's driving me back.
For the Labour Party meeting.
Why? Cos I want to be there.
No, why Martin? He said he would.
Him and Diane er, there's been something, some trouble between them and er Well, I asked him and he said he would.
Why did you ask him? Why didn't you ask me? Well, I thought er - Because I didn't want to burden you.
- You didn't want to let me in.
Do you know what's happening to me, living with you when you're not there? You've got to talk to me! This has been happening to me too.
I've watched you for I have been made to stand outside of you for nearly a year now, seeing you going down, Jim.
And you've got to let me in before it's too la You've got to talk to me! - I do! You know I do.
- About us! I'd give you anything, but I've nothing left to give.
That's not true! You're running from me, and you short-change and shut me out, and it isn't helping you at all because you're only going to get through this with me.
- Why do you want Martin to drive you? - Cos it's better that way.
- I want to be there! - Well, you're not going to be there.
You're a chauvinist bastard, Jim, you are.
You don't know it, but you are.
And a thousand Martins won't help you as much as I can.
You've got to let me in there.
You can't hide in yourself any more.
You've only got one place left to hide.
You've only got me left to hide in.
Laura.
That will be Diane.
She wants me to go shopping with her.
I won't be long.
I didn't mean to shout.
I think you had to.
If I was that far away.
Laura.
What am I going to do with this? They always put it in the fridge in the movies.
Thank you.
And that's what I'm gonna do.
I can live with that, I can live with anything.
That's me - live with anything.
I'll When she comes back, I'll We'll go out for dinner somewhere.
Not here with that book-burning bastard, but somewhere else.
Romantic.
Soft lights, candles.
And a decent wine list.
And I'll just tell her.
I'll say, "It's all right, Diane," I'll say.
Are you listening to me, Jim? Sort of.
Mm.
Are you gonna tell her you forgive her? I might.
Good.
- Tennis? - Oh, bugger tennis.
I'm back to my bed.
Come on, Spike.
Never think of looking there.
Wait there.
Laura? Laura? Oh.
Oh, no.
What do you want? It's you.
It's you in the suit! - You're the little shit off the picket line.
- Agh! No, you're not.
Who are you? Who are you? - Never you mind.
- I do mind! Tell me, tell me! Who are you? - Who sent you? - Don't hit me.
You're going to regret this.
I won't ask you again.
Look, I can't tell you, I can't.
You're too much like that man on the picket line for my liking.
Be quiet, let me think.
Michael Murray sent you, didn't he? Didn't he? No.
Whoa! Listen, bollocks, you're looking for something.
The only thing I've got that anybody might want, only Michael Murray wants.
All right.
I've got a sense of humour.
Share the joke.
I'm a thief, that's all.
A thief.
Send for the police and hand me over.
Dead or alive, it doesn't much matter.
- I don't believe you.
- Oh, the police will.
I'm well-known round here.
Just another rich kid with a drugs problem.
Trifle, trifle, trifle, trifle.
- Trifle, trifle.
- Jake, go away! Go away! What? Trifle, trifle, trifle.
Suffer the little ones.
His car wasn't there.
His cottage door was open, it seemed easy.
- Look, don't shout, I've said I'm sorry.
- Did you search the place? As far as I can judge, the files are not with him.
Well, your judgment is hardly the criteria, is it? You know what we've got to do, don't you? Oh, dear, dear.
You don't have to believe me.
He saw the car.
You can't take the word of a deranged child, Mr Nelson.
"It was gold, it had wheels on both sides and it went broom, broom, vroom!" - Grosvenor around? - Yeah, he's over there looking at you.
Most people leave their keys at reception, Mr Nelson.
Constable.
Oh, God.
Goodbye, Sylvia, the party's over.
Back on the night shift for you.
Oh, shit! And as for you, Philip, Mr Researcher, here's a picture of me mother.
Remember me mother? The mother you haven't found.
Find her and find Eileen Critchley.
Now go.
And go alone.
Barbara.
Barbara! Barbara.
I've er written something for you.
It's er It's nothing.
"For ours was a love that many have known, "it seemed tall for its age and" You do know what I'm going to say, don't you, Diane? No.
But that's all right.
I don't know what I'm going to say to you.
You don't have to say anything.
I know.
You know? Yes.
How? Did anyone tell you? Did I need to be told? Did I? How do I know? After all these years? Oh, come on, Diane.
And I just want to forget it.
Forget.
Forgotten.
Finished.
That's fine by me because I can't remember it.
Hm? Martin, you've got it all wrong, but I may as well - Now is as good a time as any.
Martin - Don't.
- I have to! - Don't! Because I don't want to hear the words.
If I don't hear the words, I can come to terms with the event.
You know how important words are to me.
As far as I'm concerned, it's over, done with, finished, end of story.
Except it's made me realise more than ever how much I love you.
How much I need you.
And how much I depend on you.
Martin, I'm pregnant.
Mr Nelson.
More policemen to see you, I'm afraid.
The Criminal Investigation Department.
They're searching your cottage right now.
Well, if you've got nothing worth taking and nothing's been taken.
Pity you didn't get the registration number.
Silver Rovers are two-a-penny down here.
- Even with burglars? - He probably stole it to get here.
Ah.
Good timing.
The glazier's arrived and I wondered if I should precede.
May as well.
Won't be any fingerprints if he was wearing gloves.
Sorry to bother you, Mr Nelson.
Hope the rest of your holiday is far more pleasant.
We'll do our very best for him, won't we, Mr Nelson? Yes, Emlyn, you can start playing with your putty now.
- Do you think he's telling the truth? - Why shouldn't he? There's something not quite right about the man.
Your sixth sense gets very sharpened in my business.
Not all that meets the eye, our Mr Nelson.
In that case, keep your eye on him.
Let us know if anything untoward happens.
I will, I certainly will.
Tell me, are you Bellhampton CID or Maybury? Maybury.
Mr Nelson.
Mr Nelson, Mr Nelson.
Trifle, trifle.
They're not policemen.
- I've seen their ID.
- So have I, but they're not.
I asked them if they were Bellhampton CID or Maybury.
So? The driver said they were Maybury CID.
Maybury hasn't even got a police station.
Oh, no.
You'll You'll have to pay for this! No, Spike.
- You can't come either.
- You'll get lost on your own.
Which way? - Both roads lead to London.
- Is there a bridge? - Right or left, is there a bridge? - Well, to the left.
Whoa! Do you consider yourself a good driver, Mr Nelson? - Not at all.
- I thought you might say that.
Tell me, if they weren't policeman, who were they? Search me.
Didn't exactly look like Marxist radicals.
- Neither did Marx.
- True enough.
No, what really confused me was that burglar back there There they are! You do realise that you're heading straight for a listed building? Whoo! Aagh! Put that window down.
- Why? - So you can tell those bastards to pull over, - or I'll ram them off the fucking road.
- "Pull over or he'll ram you off the road.
" That's not me, Mr Nelson, that's not my style.
I couldn't.
- Is it them? Is it? - What? Christ almighty! It's two men of God! Ram them, Mr Nelson.
Go on, ram them! Say a prayer and meet thy maker, I was married in church and I suffered hell! You deserve all you get.
Go on, Mr Nelson, ram them! Ram them.
Oh, I've wanted to say that for years.
Michael Murray's file.
Well worth waiting for.
This show will run and run.
Well done.
"The final day of Michael Murray's career in this school, "the most terrible of days.
" "Dear Mrs Murray, dear Lillian, "dearest Lillian, "I love you, "I am in love with you.
" This, I know, will come as something of a surprise to you, but I can find no other way of expressing myself.
All I need is the courage to send this letter and some small sign from you that one day soon you may be able to return my love.
And if you need any proof of my love, it is this.
I have saved your son Michael from becoming institutionalised.
In other words, Lillian, locked away.
Your son is safe and I hope that one day he may be well.
I know simply by writing this letter that all of us are capable of being crazy at some time or another.
"All of us are capable of being crazy "at some time or another.
" I got him, Babah.
I got him.
Nobody knows it was me.
But it was me.
I got him, but now I'll never be able to get him again.
You've got to get him.
It's your turn now.
You get him too.
You'll like getting him.
He's easy.
He's so easy.
There's some scum out there, Lou.
And they're all working for me.
Here he is, the late Michael Murray, the white man's burden.
Very good, yeah.
We suffer the mumbo jumbo and you stroll in and charm them out of the trees, eh? There wasn't a bloody black voice raised in anger until you started looking after them.
- Yes, there was, just nobody was listening.
- You know you, you've got no idea.
None.
I'll tell you how our colonial friends should be treated, like how our women should be treated - well-fed and beaten, eh, and walking 15 paces behind you! What did you do that for? Bastard.
- Did you see that, Terry? - Yeah.
Should have followed with a left to the body.
Still, summat to be proud of, innit? Nah.
Me dad would have been ashamed of me.
Yeah.
And so would me mother if she could understand what was happening.
Hello.
Maureen, it's me.
- Is Michael there? - Michael here? How can he be here, Lillian, when he's running around town with every second-hand tart he can get his hands on? - Did you hear that? That son of yours? - Yes, well, yeah, Maureen.
Yes, I think I have the picture.
Yeah.
Look, I'll pray for you.
Both.
Michael wasn't in.
So what do I promise my boys when it's all over? Two weeks in Benidorm with all expenses paid.
As convalescence.
I want him destroyed on Friday night, Barbara.
- He will be.
- Do you need anything? I shall need your fair hand to write me another little love letter, send some flowers, other tokens of esteem and suchlike.
No problem.
I'm good at love letters.
Well practised.
When When can I have you know, Murray's file? You can have a little look now.
It's yours to keep on Friday, when all things come to pass.
Unlike your newspaper, page four's the best.
No.
You go back to London with us on Friday night, until then, you stay there! - What help would you be? - You couldn't even help yourself.
I am not going to lose this because of you, because this is important and my name is on it.
If this gets cocked up, I could spend the rest of my days listening to piddling little phone taps, and following environmentalists on rambles in the countryside, and that is not going to happen to me! Do you understand? Do you understand? Very well.
But you could at least tell me where Joel and McKenzie have gone.
They've gone in search of the three curses of mankind - birth, death, marriage.
From the village Hidden deep in the valley One rainy morning, dark and grey A soul winged its way to heaven Jimmy Brown had passed away Boom, boom, boom, boom - # Just a lonely bell was ringing - # Boom, boom - # In the little valley town - # Boom, boom - # 'Twas farewell that it was singing - # Boom, boom - # To our good, old Jimmy Brown - # Boom, boom - # And the little congregation - # Boom, boom - # Prayed for guidance from above - # Boom, boom Lead us not into temptation May his soul find the salvation Of thy great eternal Love In several inner-city areas, serious disturbances were reported.
Angry scenes greeted the discovery earlier tonight of yet another badly beaten Asian youth in the Pit Vale district of the city.
Several people have been taken to hospital, two with serious head injuries.
This brings to 11 the number of attacks on ethnic minorities in the city in the last few days.
The Chief Constable, James Crowther, has once again issued a statement denying any police involvement in the incident.
I deny that my officers have taken part in any of these incidents.
Thank you.
The civic leader, Michael Murray, was unavailable for comment, but sources close to the town hall claim that the city is just one more racial attack away from a very serious situation indeed.
So he said, "Can I see you again?" And I said, "Yeah.
As long as I can find someone to mind the baby for me.
" Where's Mum? - She's over with Diane.
- What's Martin doing in your bed? Diane and Martin have got a small problem.
Like what? I can't tell you.
I can.
She's having a baby and it's not his.
Don't.
It hurts.
And a man from the newspaper wants to talk to me about what you did to me, Michael.
I hope you don't mind.
See you soon, lots of love, Eileen Critchley.
And sticky kisses.
Have it hand-delivered to the hotel.
Get it there by midday.
And I ever so much want to be at his side when he gets it, Uncle Lou.
And you shall go to the ball.
Stop.
Ooh.
I'm on top of things when people like me.
I can do anything.
God, I was good in there, Teddy.
- Good, you know, as in good.
- Your key, Mr Murray.
And there's a parcel for you.
Could I have the key to my room? Aaagh! - There's a letter as well.
- I know there is! God.
I should have killed her when she wanted me to.
Oh.
What is it? A time bomb.
She's back.
- I wish I was clever.
- You are.
It's purely that everything's relative.
But none of my family's clever.
Meanwhile, tomorrow, my dear, in search of the truth about Eileen Critchley, you and I will be visiting the dreaming spires of Oxford.
That will be nice.
I've never been there.
I thought you might not have.
- What about Murray's mother? - Oh, come on.
I know where she is.
They're closing in on me.
I know they are.
But don't ask me who because either I don't know, or there's too many to count.
- But if she gets me, this one, I've had it.
- What can she possibly do to you? I don't know and I won't be here to find out.
I'm going to give everything up.
- You can't.
- Watch me.
I don't need this.
Not now I've got you.
And anyway, where have you been? - But you've done so much.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I've done a lot.
I've done things that finally even I'm ashamed of.
I'm a hypocrite, I'm a liar.
I've been I'm associated with evil, terrible things.
- But, Michael, you're a politician.
- No.
Not much longer I'm not.
I want to leave here.
What's there to stay for? Me wife and kids hate me, and I deserve it.
Me brother's buggered off, me mother's disappeared, me father's not even a memory, the city is going up in smoke.
And I'm doing sodding 15 rounds with a sodding schoolteacher on Friday.
All that plus a crackpot sending me scarves after 35 years! Oh, I'm going all right.
I'll resign.
I'll disappear.
I bet Spain and Southern Ireland are full of people like me.
I've got the money, you don't need to worry.
Oh, yeah.
You don't run a city this size without making money one way or another.
I could pay for someone to assassinate me, you know, die a hero at the height of me powers.
Me reputation will be destroyed eventually, but it happens to everyone.
Look at Stalin, he was dead and he didn't believe in heaven or hell.
- Michael.
- Yeah? Michael, we're approaching the end of our second lap.
And this is your room.
Oh, Barbara.
Barbara, please take me with you.
Come on.
I'll carry your bags to Borneo, I'll sieve sand in the Sahara.
When I'm with you, Barbara, I'm all right.
I haven't finished my work yet.
But I expect it will be over by Friday.
See if you still want to come with me then.
- That will be for you.
- Yeah.
Yeah.
It will be Stalin.
Telling me not to bother.
There is a hell.
Yeah? Whoever it is, no bad news.
I had to do more research finding you than finding Eileen Critchley.
You found her? Nearly, Michael, very nearly.
Tell me.
She was born in the John Selwyn Private Hospital, Fulwood, on the 20th September 1947.
Yeah.
September 20th 1947.
Yeah.
She left Roedean and entered Oxford University in the autumn of 1965.
Oxford.
Right.
And interestingly, her father is a highly controversial High Court judge.
- Raymond Critchley, QC.
- Father a judge, yeah.
And the search goes on, Michael.
But we're nearly there.
Is that it? Is that what you think nearly finding someone is? What about my mother? Nearly found her as well? What have you found out? She's an old lady answers to the name of Lillian, talks too much? - Calm down, Michael.
- I won't calm down! - As for your mother and the Fleetwood - You went on about Fleetwood last week.
- But this week, I - Listen.
I want my mother, but I need Eileen Critchley! Cup of tea, four sugars? Tell me Talk to me, Michael.
Tell me everything.
No.
- I'm going home tomorrow.
- Don't.
No, I've got to, son, but I'll be back.
Right? Sauna? Yeah, why not? You know, I feel almost good.
- I don't.
- Well, you wouldn't, would you? I know.
I keep trying to make Diane suffer for what she's done to me, but she doesn't seem to take any notice.
Do you think I'm making her suffer enough? Yes, I think you are, Martin, and she's not alone.
But I have to make her suffer, those are the rules.
But I don't want to make her suffer.
I mean, I'm not that kind of man.
Am I? Ah, yes.
Hello.
Yes, you there, Mr Nelson.
Registered mail here.
Addressed to the "Phantom Sleepwalker.
" Laura! Laura! Laura! Laura! Laura! Laura! Calm, calm, calm, calm.
Calm, calm, calm, calm! Well? Can anyone explain? Why? Why send this stuff back to me and more? I mean, it will end his career and put him in prison, but why me? You know it's not knowing.
It's not being able to see who's getting you, what's happening.
You know, you look up, the goalposts have not just shifted, they've gone.
It's all right, all right, I'm just anxious.
But does anyone know? Whoever it is must think that you're going to use this stuff against Murray, maybe on Friday night.
But a newspaper would use it better.
I mean all this corruption, this land deal stuff.
His childhood, I mean But will you use it? On Friday at the Labour Club? If I do, Diane, whose tune will I be playing? Who'll be pulling my strings? Who will I be destroying Murray for? There's a There's a poison about.
There is, you know.
And it's getting worse by the day.
Sometimes you can see it, sometimes you can't.
You just get poisoned.
You'll probably never know who poisoned you.
Yeah.
Very warm.
Yeah.
No problem, boss.
She can't be.
I can assure you that she is.
But But Eileen Critchley is dead? I know the porter who found her, Mr Martin.
And I'm afraid I had the misfortune to see the body myself.
Good God.
Debatable in this instance.
I'm sorry, I I wasn't expecting this.
Nobody was at the time.
She was a I suppose what is known as a charismatic and very beautiful young woman.
Highly gifted.
More so, I believe, than her sister.
Her sister? - Came here? - Oh, yes.
Three or four years later.
All Barbara Critchley wanted to do, so it seemed, was to do everything her sister did.
Well almost everything.
Fucking hell.
- Come on.
- But, Philip Come on! What drugs? I only want to go to the pictures.
- I only wanna go home.
- This is home.
Don't do that, Rachel.
Please.
This is a boarding house, Franky, it's not a home.
We'll get a house.
We've already got a house.
At home.
Come on, it's all right, come on.
- Do you fancy going to the pictures, Mam? - Not this evening, son.
I've got things on my mind.
Oh, go on.
It'll do you good to get out.
Celebrate.
- Celebrate what? - They're thinking of promoting me.
On the boat.
Not up the mast neither.
They're pleased with me, Mam.
I'm worried about our Michael, you know.
I think there might be something wrong between him and Maureen.
It took you long enough to find out, didn't it? You have to stay.
You must.
The best way to protect yourself is to be here when it happens.
- Not on a beach in Alicante.
- Yeah, I know.
But I'm being set up somehow or other.
Then you have to deny involvement.
You were tricked.
You should set up a meeting, get someone you trust to be there as a witness.
- I'll be your witness, Michael.
- No.
I don't need a witness.
I can do better than a witness.
- You know what I used to be, don't you? - An electrician.
Yeah.
I could rig something up, you know, a tape recorder of some kind.
Oh, I don't know.
No.
Yeah, get them in here.
Get 'em to admit it was their idea, that I never wanted to be part of it.
Have them all on tape.
Think I could do it.
Get a tape recorder, one of those erm reel-to-reel thingies.
I've never done anything like this before, but Good.
But remember, if they're that clever Belt and braces.
What are you doing? Christ! Laura, Laura.
Laura! Laura! Mark, Susan, Jessie, get up! Get up! Why? What for? What for? Why? Why me? Why me? Laura! Oh.
Oh, my head.
- Are you all right? - Oh, even better.
I'm only asking for insurance purposes.
What was it this time, Mr Nelson? The bogeyman? - Get away from me with that umbrella.
- It's a game, Mr Nelson.
Called Woodland's roulette.
Can be played only during the course of an electrical storm.
Missed me again! Been playing it for years.
Still haven't lost.
Although the reading light is a more recent acquisition.
Belonged to a former Kent miner, passing through, scavenging for work, selling his possessions.
- He had no further use for it.
- Well, he wouldn't, would he? If this is a prelude to a political debate, don't bother.
- My head's already spinning.
- What a shame.
I was rather hoping to hear some of that legendary northern working-class wit.
You know, gems like, "You're gonna get your fucking 'ead kicked in.
" Or Oh, here's one I like.
"We know where you live.
" Elegant.
Elegant.
You don't want an answer off me, Mr Grosvenor.
I don't think you want answers at all.
No, I don't suppose I do.
Wouldn't know what to do with a Northerner.
Still, things are warming up quite nicely tonight for a Thursday night.
You're here bumping into trees, not too long ago I saw a couple sneaking into the rear of a foreign vehicle for the committing of adultery no less.
Oh, God.
God, how I hate the people of this country! Hate what we've become, having mistaken freedom for licence.
Nearly! Yes.
Once I have sold this inherited and most desolate of hellholes, and paid off all my debts - well, some of them - I'm going to France, Mr Nelson.
Proper France where the English don't go.
Do you know what they call us in France, Mr Nelson? They call us "Les Fuck-offs.
" They see us staggering around, nasty and oblivious, drunk in charge of a limited vocabulary and a lager can, and they say, "Regardez, les Fuck-offs.
" Why don't you go away? You see, so few of the scum class have ever played any real part in anything, except for the occasional walk-on in a crowd scene.
Casualties and statistics.
"Some carnage coming up.
"Chaps, take cover and send for a rabble.
" I've got A Level history.
Did your textbooks ever tell you how lucky you once were not to know, not to be remotely aware, not to understand anything, not to have anything? So that you wouldn't miss it when it's being taken away from you.
Don't you regret losing that ignorance, Mr Nelson? I don't think you believe one word of what you're saying, Mr Grosvenor.
Oh, but I do.
I do.
So here you are, Mr Nelson, risen from the rabble, slightly, when the opportunities and the prospects still seem available, when what passes for an education was free for the fodder and not just on loan.
Pity about the '80s, wasn't it, Mr Nelson, for the likes of your kind? Lights going out everywhere, dreams dying like winter following spring.
It must be awful to be you.
Awful.
To have a glimmering of understanding, to be vaguely aware of the almost complete lack of consequence and importance.
Even your own side pick on you, Mr Nelson, if it is your own side, which I doubt, personally.
I mean, you were merely one of the crowd.
Weren't you? You happened to be there, that's all.
Tell me, Mr Nelson, tell me.
Tell me.
Why should the dregs of our unfair society act in a caring and decent manner? Whereas our self-seeking, so-called leaders don't even care about fairness and freedom.
That's what I really think, contrary to expectation.
Huh? For I could have been a noble man.
Oh, yes, a noble man.
Noble.
Friends, Romans and countrymen, we know where you live.
Can you drive, Margie? No.
Neither can I.
But if I had to, you know, if I really needed to I bet I could.
Oh, God.
I think I've broken his lamplight.
Oh, we're off.
Oh! Oh, my God! Let me out! Let me out! - Give it to me.
What are you doing? - Trying to help.
Brake, Nan! Brake! I think I've the hang of it now.
Where did you learn to drive like that? What do you get up to with that gang? Nothing, Mum, honest.
I learnt it at school in metalwork.
Well, that's that.
We'll just have to unpack our bags.
All I wanted to do was go home.
I'll take you, Nan.
Only I'll need a cushion.
You have been out stealing cars.
Where can we get a cushion from, Margie? Ah, Mervyn.
I er, I know I asked to see you, but as you can see, I'm rather busy now.
Welcome, gentlemen, please.
I'm sorry I'm late.
But I would like to see you as soon as possible, in my hotel room and in private.
- Fine.
Shall we say er - Six o'clock.
Fine.
Six o'clock.
Goodbye.
Thank you so much.
Oh, God.
There's a policeman.
Go easy now.
It's all right, Nan.
Oh, my God.
My God, the shame.
- We'll have our names in the newspaper.
- Don't look round.
- I know there's something wrong here.
- What, though? 30 miles an hour.
Straight line.
Not reported stolen.
The porkpie hat doesn't go with the head.
You can't stop somebody for not looking right in a hat.
- Who can't? - All right.
What the hell? They're at it again.
- Lights on? - Yes.
Here we go, here we go, here we go I wonder what they've been up to.
This way, this way.
Turn left.
Moss Side, 17 miles.
Up yours, wanker! I do really think you're being pedantic about this, Michael, and time marches on, you know.
No, all all I'm asking is that you you look me in the eye, and acknowledge that it was you who came to me, that it was your idea about the the racial violence and that erm I was, from the onset, completely against the manner in which all this has occurred.
But I do have to say that Look.
Look.
If it will get us out of this room and on the streets yeah.
Yeah.
We came to you.
It was our idea.
It was us.
We wanted to create anarchy on the streets, leading to revolution in the year God-knows-when.
And we, not you, decided to use the ethnic minorities to our advantage, by creating a group of young men who would go amongst them, and knock seven shades of shit out of them.
I - I don't think I would have put it quite so crudely, Lou.
Does that salve your conscience, Michael? Yes.
Good.
So we can get on to more important matters.
I expect to see you in the foyer in about ten minutes.
I really think you're being pedantic about this, Michael.
Time marches on.
I just want you to look me in the eye and but then he just turned Flags wave in the air.
And it is four for 119.
The dismal run continues.
Not an entirely convincing stroke.
He's certainly got a slight technical problem to sort out.
It's on the off stump and he nibbles it down to third man.
It was our idea.
It was us.
- Oh, yes.
- create anarchy on the streets.
- Oh, yes.
- in the year God-knows-when.
Thank you, Barbara.
Belt and braces.
We, not you, decided to use the ethnic minorities to our advantage.
I did it.
I did it.
I was too clever for them.
For you, Mr Murray.
It's erm Michael Murray, your school psychiatric report and genuine socialism from the age of 17 to 32 have been taken into consideration, but nevertheless, you have been found guilty of corrupt land deals, pages two to seven, corrupt property deals, pages eight to eleven, corrupt housing deals, pages 12 to 16, secret payments in illegal bank accounts, pages 17 to 32, and sex scandals, page 33.
There should be more sex than that.
But most importantly, you are accused of the attempted murder by strangulation at the age of eight, of one Eileen Critchley.
Mr Murray, have you anything to say regarding the rumour sweeping the city about your involvement in the racial violence, and allegations about your childhood and recent personal corruption? Mr Murray, I'll repeat the question.
No.
Don't.
My time is up.
Is that a statement, Mr Murray, "My time is up"? Michael.
Mother.
I'd like you to meet Teddy? Hiya, Mrs Murray.
We have met.
Come here, come away from these people.
Is it, Mr Murray? Hey.
Never, ever come between a mother and her son.
Don't even stand there.
- You've known me a long time, Michael.
- Help me, Mother.
- Michael, I've talked to Maureen.
- Who? Your sodding bloody wife! I've talked to Maureen, and all this has to stop.
- You're right.
- I know I'm right, and I've never been wrong about you once.
- You've always been a difficult child - I'm 43.
- Stop interrupting me! - I'm in terrible trouble.
You've always been in trouble, you've always driven me round the bend.
You've always made me worry, fearing the worst, expecting little and getting less, always wondering what you were doing and where in God's name you were going.
I know where you're going, Michael, I've talked to Maureen.
Mother, I think I might be going to jail.
You're going to hell, Michael.
That's where you're going.
Eternal hell.
And no son of mine is going to hell because you are no son of mine.
You're not.
Not until you do the right thing, you are no son of mine at all.
Mother, I'm your son.
Mother! Mother, I am your son! Look, I've I've done the best I could.
You know, considering considering what's been done to me.
Mother! I did it for you and Dad.
If your father was alive, Michael, you'd have killed him.
Franky! - Franky! Help me tell - Hello, Uncle Michael.