Twisted Nerve (1968) - full transcript

Ladies and gentlemen,

in view of the controversy
already aroused,

the producers of this film

wish to re-emphasise
what is already stated in the film,

that there is no established
scientific connection

between Mongolism

and psychotic or criminal behaviour.

Right, come on, Pete-boy,
here we go...

You ready?

- Yes.
- Catch!

Very good!



Right, your turn now then.

- Ok?
- Yes.

Hello... you wanna
play with us?

- Yeah.
- Alright...

you stand over there,
I'll take you both on.

Tommy!

Oh, Tommy... Mummy's
got to go now.

- I'm so sorry.
- Ok.

- Come on, the bell's gone.
- Too bad, Pete.

Back soon. We'll have
another go, ok?

Take it easy, boy.

Don't do anything
I wouldn't do.

Uhh!

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye. Thank you.



Hello, Martin.

- Want a word?
- Yeah, thanks.

Come on in then.

Let's have some coffee, Jack.

Putting on a bit of
weight, isn't he?

Huh. Too much chocolate.
They all spoil him.

And why not?

Anything he needs?

Well you can bring some rubber
nappies next time if you like.

Thanks, Jack.

Can't have too many of those.

We never managed to get him
house-trained, for some reason.

Thanks.

Hasn't got much
longer, has he?

Well he's already had
longer than most, Martin.

- Should I get mother down?
- No, no...

he wouldn't know her,
not after all this time.

Only disturb her.

Wouldn't help him.

He'd miss me though,
wouldn't he?

Ahh, you're part
of a pattern.

He expects you.

Tell me, how are things
at home, Martin?

Fine!

No, leave it.
It doesn't matter.

Well, better be
getting back.

Sorry about the cup.

Thanks.

Martin...

How about you...
how are you getting on?

Me?

That's the stuff!

Bye.

How does this one work?

How much is the
Moon Explorer?

Thirty-nine and
eleven, miss.

Oh lord, that's
far too much.

- I'll take one of these.
- Thank you.

Twenty-five shillings.

There's your receipt.

Here we are, miss.

Thank you.

Just a moment, you two.

- Me?
- Both of you.

Would you mind coming to
the manager's office, please.

Alright, then.

Perhaps you two would
care to explain?

Explain what?

The toys you have
in your possession.

I bought a toy...

I paid for it...

and here's the receipt.

Yes we know.

And while you kept
the assistant busy, your...

boyfriend here...

put another toy in his pocket
and didn't pay for it.

Boyfriend?!

I've never seen him
before in my life!

They do know each
other, Mr Goss.

That's right. We saw the
looks they exchanged.

You know, you'll find
it much easier...

if you make a clean
breast of it.

I tell you, he's a
complete stranger!

Well don't just sit
there... tell them!

Please.

Hmm... we know
what he'll say.

Here it is, Mr Goss.

In his pocket.

Now then, young man...

before I call the police...

what have you to say?

Georgie likes ducks.

Never meant to take it.

He forgot.

Absent minded, eh?

So your name's
Georgie, is it?

And your friend here,
what's her name?

Georgie has no friends.

Georgie wants to
go home now.

I dare say he does...

but let's see what he's got
in the other pocket first.

Look, I think there's been some
kind of a mistake, don't you?

I'm sorry you've been
involved in this, miss.

If I could have your
name and address.

Yes, of course.

Susan Harper...

17, Richmond Grove.

You will let him go, won't you?

I shall have to report it, miss.

Oh, for a two and
sixpenny toy?

Surely, if I pay for it?

- Well you don't have to, miss.
- No, I'd like to, please.

- Here.
- Thank you.

It's very good of you.

Georgie...

This is yours, now.

So sorry, madam.

Most unfortunate.

Thank you.

A toy duck. How about that?

Now tell me, why in God's name
does he have to steal a toy duck?!

Wish I knew, Darling.

Are you sure?

I mean...

wh.. wh.. what's gone wrong?

- Is it my fault?
- No, of course not.

If anybody's to blame it's me...
I've spoilt him.

And I've helped you.

You've been wonderful.
If he'd been your own son...

I've have done a
damn sight less!

I mean it isn't as
if he's stupid.

What did his tutor
at Oxford say...

'Could be brilliant'.
What happens?

- Gets himself sent down.
- Darling, he did explain.

Oh, he always explains.

Look at those jobs I found him...

how long did he keep them?

Not everyone's cut out
for a stockbroker's office.

Then what is he
cut out for?

He was keen on farming...

where did that get us?

Christopher takes him on,
within twenty-four hours...

young Pamela runs
screaming to her mother...

where did they find him...

stark naked in
her bedroom!

Be fair, Henry... no girl
is that innocent.

She must have given
him some encouragement.

I tell you, Enid...

if we don't teach him,
I know who will...

the police.

- I'll talk to him.
- No!

There'll be no
more talking.

This time something's
gotta be done.

And I'm gonna do it!

Now, how about that...

there you are
you see... typical!

Comes creeping in,
sneaks upstairs...

disappears without
a word!

I'd like to know what
he does up there...

day after day,
with a door locked!

Now come along, Martin...

your father says
you're to get up.

And give me that...

it's going to be
thrown out.

But you gave
it to me!

You were in nappies once...

you don't still need
them, do you?

No, Mummy...

I don't.

And all this other junk...
that's going too.

You've just to to grow up!

Marty, Darling...

here...

What made you
take it, Marty?

This?

Well... he'll have
fun with this.

But you could have
paid for it.

I was going to.

Cow of a store detective
never game me a chance!

Honest, Mummy.

Oh, Darling, is
that a spot?

Hmm?

Oh, you've got such
a lovely skin.

Must take care of it.

Yup...

I do.

I wish you wouldn't
go down there.

Disturbs you.

Does it?

Ghastly place!

You put 'im there.

It hasn't done his bladder
much good, I can tell you that.

- That's cruel, Marty!
- It's the truth.

- He's happier there!
- Is he?

Of course he is!

Anyway, I had your future
to think about.

Oh, I know...

Pete would have been
a bit of a handicap...

in the marriage stakes,
wouldn't he?

You might never have made it.

Oh, stop it, Martin!

Don't worry, Mum...
it's our secret.

I'll never tell the
old bastard.

Stop it, I say!

- Your father...
- That's not my father!

Mine's six feet under in
Putney... chasing worms!

And from what I
remember of 'im...

they'll be enjoying
his company.

Martin, I sometimes wonder...

whether you feel anything
for anybody.

'Cept you, Mummy.

Ok... all yours.

Yes... you're right.

Have you got the time?

Yes, ten-past nine.

Oh, goodness...
I am late.

Ere... got any change, mate?

And the best of British
luck to you too!

- See you, bye.
- Yes, see you this evening.

Come along, all inside.
Hold tight.

He, he, he.

Here we are...

how 'bout this?

'The Tower of London'?

Get off! That's
history, innit?!

Well, that's blood-thirsty enough.
Even for you, Johnny.

Any girls in it?

Well there's Lady Jane Grey.
She gets the chopper.

I'd rather 'ave Lady
Chatterley.

Mmm, I bet you would!
But you take this...

you'll like it, I promise you.

Thank you.

- There you are.
- Thanks.

- See ya!
- Goodbye, doll!

Bye.

Yes, please?

Hello.

Georgie!

Hello!

What are you doing here?

What's this for?

The duck.

But I told you... that
was a present.

A... present for you.

For me?

Oh, thank you, Georgie!

Thank you, very much!

But how did you find me?

Followed you.

Where from?

Your home.

But if you were there,
why didn't I see you?

There was a black man
with you.

Oh, Shashie.

He's a 'P.G.'

A 'Paying Guest', he
lives with us.

Does he take you
to the cinema?

He hasn't yet...
he might.

Georgie could take you!

Oh... well...

that's very sweet of
you, Georgie, but I can't.

Honestly, I have
to work at night.

Here?

At home... for my exams.

I want to be a
teacher, Georgie.

Oh.

Look, you can't
go around like that...

Here, let me.

Take these, Miss Harper.

Look...

I don't know whether you're
dressing or undressing your friend...

but I do wish you wouldn't
do it in the public library!

Sorry, Georgie.

I must get on with
my work now, really.

Goodbye.

Thank you for the chocolates.

Please.

Can't Georgie have a book?

About animals.

Of course you can.

Come on, we'll find one.

Got your ticket?

No.

Oh...

Where do you live, Georgie?

In hotels... in London.

With my Daddy.

I tell you what...

I'll take it out in my name...

and when you've finished,
bring it back.

But be sure you do or
I'll get into trouble.

Ok?

Yes...

Susan.

What a load of crap!

Martin!

Martin!

Oh...

Come down a
moment, please.

Come in, lad... sit down.

I've good news for you...

you're off to Australia, Perth...

in about three
weeks time.

Am I?

Yes. I've spoken to
our people...

they fixed a job for you.

Sheep farming.

Oh, what you make of
the job is up to you.

I see.

Everything's settled
then, is it?

Yes...

air ticket, passport.

Your permit will be through
in a few days time.

Oh, you'll need clothes of course,
but get 'em out there.

I'll pay.

And Mum?

She heard the good news?

She has...

Upset?

Buckets of tears?

She's upset, of course...

but, she agrees.

Of course.

Always upset,
always agrees.

I want none of that...
this is for your good!

Mine? Not yours?

Or hers?

Martin...

the one thing in the world
your Mother most wants...

is a man out of you!

Now, don't you give
a damn about that?

Her happiness?

What do you think?

I'll tell you what I think...

I think the most worrying
thing about you is...

that you haven't got
a single friend.

Not one!

- Haven't I?
- Well who?

Come on, tell me... who!?

Wouldn't you like to know.

And now it's about time
I let you into a little secret...

You mind?

You... can't send
me anywhere!

Can't I?

No.

I've over twenty-one.

Then it's bloody well
time you acted like it!

So I'm not going.

But thanks for the offer.

Well you're not
staying either.

How about that!?

Here...

you can try starting
as I did...

with fifty pounds.

Lets see how far you get.

Now... pack up!

Go on!

I want you out of this
house by tomorrow.

Ok.

And I may need this.

Thanks.

Dad.

Tomorrow... you
understand?!

Keep the change.

Face it, Enid...

he's not normal.

Now, where the devil did
I put those cufflinks?

Oh, it's alright, here
they are.

He should have seen
that psychiatrist...

when I wanted him to.

Please, God...

Oh, thank you, sir.

Belgravia, 00102, please.

- Your Belgravia number, sir.
- Thanks.

Hello, Mummy? This
is Martin.

Oh, Marty, Darling...

thank God you phoned!

Where are you?

London Airport.

What are you doing there?

Listen Mummy, I'm off
to Paris in a few minutes.

Paris?!

Mummy, listen.

I had a row with
Dad last night.

Yes, I know.

I'm sorry, Mummy. He was
right. I was wrong.

Tell him I am going
to Australia...

if that's what he wants.

Oh... Darling, of course!

Must go now, flight's
been called.

I'll be back in... two
weeks. Ok?

But Marty, Darling...
tell me, why Paris?

What made you...

I'll write you, Mummy.
Goodbye.

Silly old cow!

I want this posted
for me in Paris.

Any ideas?

- Full of them, sir.
- Know anyone going today?

- You leave it to me, Mr Clifford.
- Thanks.

You know... bit of
bird trouble.

Supposed to be there...
rather be here.

We've all been
through it, sir.

Don't worry, it's
on it's way.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

I want you to send
some flowers for me.

Where to, sir?

Seventeen, Richmond Grove.

Well it's clear enough...

'With thanks for all your
kindness', James Clifford.

But I've never even
heard of him.

You must have.

One of the boys from
the university?

Roses? That lot?

I know what they expect
for a bar of chocolate!

What, and don't they
ever get it then, love?

Or don't you like
chocolate?

Not even a little nibble?

He, he, he.

Roses then, eh?

I'll begin to hear the
patter of tiny feet.

Ha, ha. All I can hear is the
patter of tiny minds!

Ha, ha, ha, ha...

Still... it's 'ere to
stay, you know.

So you keep reminding us.

Well why not?

It's on me mind, love.

It's like I keep telling these
long-haired directors...

if you want me to sell your
crummy films, I say...

you've gotta give it a
a good dose of 'S and V'.

That's what the public wants.

Sex and violence.

Cartoon, ice cream,
the old 'S and V'...

and they're happy.

What do you say
Professor?

- Me, Mr Henderson?
- Yeah.

Ah...

well in my country,

'S and V' used to mean...

- 'Shoot the Viceroy'.
- Ha, ha, ha.

Today it means a
population explosion...

and food riots.

And both seem to call forward
a strength, Mr Henderson.

A rare quality.

Yeah, maybe.

But I tell you one thing...

you'll never make
it unpopular!

Ha, ha, ha.

Oh well, if you'll excuse
me, Mrs Harper...

I have some studies.

Of course. Goodnight.

Goodnight.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

Goodnight, Susan.

Goodnight, Shashie.

You can't really talk
to them, can you?

No sense of humour.

Don't be discouraged...

He's probably up there
laughing his head off.

Mmm...

chilly!

Yes, well I think I'll, erm...

I'll bowl down the local and
have one with the lads.

Coming?

See you later, then.

Did you have to?

What?

Make him feel small?

He is small, Mum!

He's awful.

He is human, and
he pays.

He gets good value.

What do you mean
by that?

Oh, Mum...

Well come on, what?

Now look here, Susan...

you come home three
times a year...

and I tell you, I'm very glad of
a little company in this house.

Someone with a
little life.

Alright, so he enjoys
a good laugh...

what's wrong with that?

Look, Mum... I don't give a damn
what he enjoys in this house,

or on the house, for
that matter.

The only thing on
this house, my girl...

is your education.

I'd have sold this damn
barn of a place years ago...

if it hadn't been for that.

I know, Mum.

I'm sorry.

Only one more year.

That's all.

Yeah... then what?

Forty, snotty-nosed little
kids to look after.

Big deal!

Hmm. Big enough.

And not for you.

With your face, and
your figure...

you could be a model.

Ahh, now... look at that
Twiggy and The Shrimp.

More like a couple
of growing boys...

and they made
a fortune!

Well I'm more like
a growing girl...

so I couldn't, could I?

I think I'll take
these up with me.

You won't want to take books
to bed with you forever.

I was married when
I was your age.

I know. Was a
love-match wasn't it.

'Til someone blew it out.

The only thing your father
ever blew were his chances.

He didn't have
to go to Africa.

He had a fine
practice here.

Well...

maybe he wanted something he
couldn't get on the National Health.

Yeah... black women!

And he wasn't very much good
with white, I can tell you that.

Oh Mum... be fair.

We both know why
he walked out.

If I had kicked your father
where he deserved...

he'd have never have
walked again!

Now, who on earth
can that be?

S'alright, I'll go.

Yes?

Hello.

Well... who do you want?

Susan, please.

Who is it?

It's for you.

Georgie!

What's this?

Well you better come in.
You're soaked.

Please.

Are you Susan's Mummy?

Yes... yes, I am.

Who are you?

Oh, this is Georgie.

Err... Clifford.

Oh... oh, so you're
the flower man?

No, Mum.
His father is.

Come here, Georgie.

Go in and sit by the fire
for a moment... will you?

Get dry.

Now who is he?
He looks a bit, erm...

Simple. That's all.

Here. Read this.

'Dear Susan Harper...'

'My son has told me
of your kindness...'

'and I am glad to hear
that he can stay with you...'

'as a paying guest.'

'He has money and
will be no trouble.'

'I shall be abroad for a week...'

'and hope to thank you
in person on my return.'

'In the meantime, I am
sending you some roses...'

'from Georgie and me.'

'Sincerely, James Clifford.'

'P.S. Bedtime
nine-thirty, please.'

Whh..at?

What on earth are you thinking
of, he can't stay here!

I never said he could!

Quick! Phone the hotel,
tell his father.

Yes.

Well I... I'm sorry,
mister, erm...

Georgie.

Georgie.

Well I'm sorry, Georgie...

I'm afraid you can't
stay with us...

we've nowhere to
put you.

You're like Susan...

you're pretty.

Erm...

where's your father
gone, Georgie?

Oh, do sit down.

Yes, that's right.
Mr James Clifford.

I'll just make sure...

one moment, madam.

Hello?

No madam, Mr Clifford
checked-out this morning.

Caught a plane
to Paris.

No, madam...

he never left
an address.

Oh. I see.
Thank you.

Gone.

Oh, dear.

And I've just
been telling Georgie...

we can't put him up,
there's no room.

Where will you go?

Georgie's alright.

We better 'phone
for a taxi.

You'll never get
one in this weather.

I... I can try.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye, Georgie.

I'm terribly sorry, Georgie...

but if only we'd
known earlier...

we could have arranged
something.

And if only your father
had 'phoned yesterday...

or the day before...

I'm sure we could have
managed something, but...

but at this short notice,
absolutely impossible.

There isn't an empty
bed in the house.

Oh dear, just look
at that rain!

I really am so
terribly sorry.

Goodbye.

Bye.

Mum, we can't!

Couldn't he have
my old room?

I'm not getting lumbered.
Thank you very much!

But just for tonight,
couldn't he?

Are you out of
your mind?

What sort of father...

sends a boy like that...

to a place like this, that
he hasn't even seen?!

Well, for all he knows this
could be a brothel!

Oh, please. He'll be
no trouble, Mum. Please.

Oh, alright.

And if he wets the bed,
you wash the sheets!

Georgie!

Georgie!

Come on back!

We can't let you go
out in this weather.

Come on.

I'll take this.

Those cases must
be heavy.

Mum thinks we can
manage after all.

You're gonna have my old
room, right at the top.

It'll be in a bit of a
mess I expect.

But you won't mind
that, will you, Georgie?

Hang on a minute.

Thank you.

Sweet dreams.

Here we go.

You're supposed to be
in bed by now, aren't you?

Huh... you'll have to have
a hot bath first, though.

You're absolutely drenched!

Alright, Clarkie...
I heard you.

I was wondering...

I've been beating this going
longer than J. Arthur Rank!

Your breakfast's cold.

Sorry.

Good morning.

- Hello, Susan.
- Morning.

Hell, I'm late again!

Mr Groom's going to
take the pants off me.

What time will
that be, love?

For you, Mr Henderson?
A waste of time!

Ahh, what a shame.

Did mother tell you
about our visitor?

Yes, she did.

A bit soft, she said.

No... like a little boy.

If you see him, Shashie, be
nice to him, will you?

Yes, of course.

Oh, I must dash. Bye.

Bye.

Time somebody was
nice to her!

She'll be begging for it
by the time she's forty.

Late tonight, Clarkie.

Tell mum for me, will you?

I'll tell 'er you've 'ad
no breakfast!

Make sure you 'ave lunch.

Bye.

Oh... so you're Georgie.

Go and get your
breakfast.

Thank you.

Good morning.

Ah! Georgie!

Well, come on in, lad. Sit down.
We won't eat ya.

I'm Gerry and this
is the, err...

'The Professor'.
Mr Kumar.

Hello, Georgie.

He'll do the Indian Rope Trick
if you ask him nicely.

Tea of coffee, Georgie?

Tea, please.

Dad's in Paris, eh?

Yes.

- Seeing the sights.
- Yes.

I'll bet he is!

Oh, come on... eat
your egg up, boy.

That's it.

Specially laid by
Donald Duck.

Tea, Georgie.

Thank you.

You like the movies,
do you?

What about Batman?

'Batman is a Fatman'!

Oh, who do you
like then?

- Tarzan.
- Oh, Tarzan! Whoh...

- Yaeeahheyaa!
- Ha, ha, ha...

Alright... don't bust
a gut, mate!

Ha, ha, ha...

Well... err... yeah...

the Professor can tell
you all about Tarzan...

err, that's where he comes
from, the jungle.

Tarzan was the son of
an English Lord, Georgie.

- Was he?
- Mmm hmm.

Who else would want to
swing through trees...

with a bunch of
apes, hmm?

Get out of it!

Well, I must be off
to the hospital.

Bye, Georgie.

I'm off too.

- Burrrp!
- Ha, ha, ha...

Blimey...

you'll be alright, lad.

You... you just
keep laughing!

Oh, thank you. Can you
put them in the sink?

You don't have to do
that, you know?

Georgie can wash up.

So I can see.

Who taught you?

Mummy.

Where is she, Georgie?

Have you stripped the
boy's bed, Clarkie?

It's been made.

I thought you done it.

Made?

Room's a picture...

windows open, clothes
put away...

pyjamas under the pilla.

I wish the others were
as neat and tidy!

Georgie!

I'm just going shopping...
will you be alright?

Goodnight.

Goodnight, Georgie.

No reading in bed, mind.

Georgie!

Still here?

- Yes... 'night, Susan.
- Goodnight.

- Hello, Mum.
- Hello, Darling.

I thought he was going?

Oh, how could we.

You're quite right...

he'll be no trouble.

No trouble at all.

Henry, listen to this...

'Dear Mummy...'

'The flight was fine'

'and Paris is tr?s belle'.

Thank you.

'But will not stay here as I have
decided to travel around a bit.'

'Will write again soon.
Love, Marty.'

'P.S. I will be thinking
of Dad on Friday,'

'when he speaks at
the banker's dinner.'

Nah... how about that!

'Wish him luck, he
may need it!'.

Fancy remembering that.

- Yeah.
- In that sweet of him?

Very. Very.

Well, I suppose I better
learn the damn thing!

- More coffee, Darling?
- Yes, please.

'Your Royal Highness...'

'My Lord, My Lord Mayor...'

Young man...

the library has been closed
for the last ten minutes.

- I know.
- Well then...

Rat face.

Eh... what was that?!

Get lost!

- Goodnight, Mr Groom.
- I...

Bye, bye.

Think he's taken a
liking to you.

Yes. He has.

I got you that
book on Paris.

Hi... sexpot!

Philip!

I was gonna 'phone
you this evening.

Then I saved you the
money. Jump in.

Why, what's on?

Come on, don't
waste time.

Judy and Mac
are waiting.

- What for?
- Us.

Why?

They want to talk
about tomorrow.

So long, buster.

Oh, Georgie...

I am sorry.

Here, take this.

See you later.

What did I understand you
to say to me in there?

I said...

- get... stuffed!
- Huh!

Who's the pretty boy?

Yes he is rather,
isn't he?

Fancy him?

Ha, ha!

This is the centre
of Paris, Georgie.

I expect your father...

would be staying in one of
these hotels around here.

Look, Georgie...

here's the
Champs-Elys?es.

And there's the
Arc de Triomphe.

They built that after Napoleon
won all those battles.

And at the other end...

is the Place de
la Concorde...

and, err,
over here...

where is it?
Oh yes...

here, in Les Invalides...
is where they buried him.

- Georgie...
- Yes, Mummy?

Nine-thirty, Georgie.

Bedtime.

Oh.

And I'm gonna make
a cup of chocolate.

For me?

- If you want one.
- In bed?

Ha, ha! You're getting
spoiled, aren't you?

Goodnight.

Thought you might
like a cuppa.

Mmm, I would.

Medicine can be
rather dry stuff.

There you are then.

Thank you.

What's that?

I was just wondering.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight.

Oh, it's you!

Having a race?

Winning?

Georgie always wins!

Good. Then come and
get your prize.

Now I lay me
down to sleep...

and pray the Lord
my soul to keep.

And if I die before
I w... wake...

I...

Pray the Lord
my soul to take.

Amen!

Don't spill it, will you?

Sweet dreams.

Hello, good evening,
from Manchester...

let's take a quick look
at some of the couples...

who'll be dancing
in this contest tonight...

between the North
and the South.

And first of all here,
couple number four...

the very popular
Martin Charles...

and his lovely
partner Barbara.

Now these two, they
were runners up last year...

so they must stand
a very good chance this time.

And that magnificent dress
that Barbara's wearing

(there's seventeen yards of
tulle in it, she tells me)

it's a combined effort of
Barbara and her Mum.

And I gather that Mum
sat up all night...

sewing on those hundreds
of sequins...

which set off the
whole ensemble.

Really quite something, I
think you'll agree.

Now then, let's watch
them for a moment...

as the contest opens
with... the waltz.

Susan!

It's Philip... quickly,
he's in a call box.

Damn!

Coming!

Bloody good speech H.D.
Never heard better!

Did you see the
Royal's face...

when I told the one about
the pony and the polo stick?

Did I? Everyone did!

Do you know
where I got it?

No?

My secretary.

Miss Pym?

Yes!

Sixty, if she's a day.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

How about that!

Here... here don't worry,
drop me at your place...

I can walk around
the corner.

- Sure?
- Quite.

Could do with a
spot of fresh air.

Right.

Thanks for the lift, H.D.
Great evening!

- Thanks again for the speech.
- Night, Tom.

- Goodnight.
- See you tomorrow.

Yes.

Hello, who's that?

Who is that?

That you, Johnson?

Guess again.

Oh, Martin.
You're back.

Well, what's happened...
you in trouble again?

I'm not.

Look, take that damn thing
out of my eyes, will you.

Here show me
the light switch.

Sure.

You are in trouble,
aren't you?

Come on, let's
get indoors.

Thought it was too
good to be true.

Hey! Dad!

Errrghh!

Ugh!

Argh!

Uh!

Err!

Ahh...

Uhh!

And how about...

that!

He, he, he...

01773268, Private
Henderson, Sir!

Alright girly...
I'm back.

Ready and willing.

Just hope I'm able.

You're late.

Please...

Hmm?

Gerry?

Who is it?!

Georgie!

What are you doing here?

Whad'ya want?

Bad men!

They bury Georgie
in the sand.

Couldn't breath!

It's alright.

It's alright, Georgie.
It's only a dream.

Quite safe now.

Mummy...

Georgie, you're burning!

Here...

You'll catch cold.

Lie still for a moment.

- Mmm...
- It's alright, it's alright...

Just lie still.

Joan?

Joan?!

Allo...

what's cooking?

Spot of the
dark meat, eh?

Joan!

Now then, Sue...

no hanky-panky in
the back seat!

You needn't worry, I shall
be in the front seat.

Well watch out for his hand
when he changes gear, then!

- Hi
- Ha, ha, ha.

Jump in.

Ah, good morning,
Mr Henderson.

Morning.

Most marvellous day,
is it not?

Yeah.

The night wasn't so
dusty either, was it?

The night?

What happened?

Eh?!

What happened?

Transcendental Meditation,
was it?

A little Yogi Pogi?

Or were you practicing all those
Oriental, spiritual exercises...

cross-legged on the floor?

Or 'somewhere'?!

Have you got her
on pot yet?

Pot?

Well, I'm sorry, I
don't think I understand.

You're a dark
one, you are.

Meaning what,
Mr Henderson?

Oh... no offence,
no offence.

No, no, I must say,
you had me fooled.

So you're getting a cut
off the joint as well, are you?

Cut off the joint?!

Come off it... from 'Lady
Bountiful' here.

Oh, Mr Henderson... I begin
to see what's on your mind!

It's not very gracious to
the lady concerned.

In any case, were
she like that...

I would like to
remind you that...

we Hindu's are forbidden
to eat cow.

Yours is just coming up
Mr Henderson.

Alright, love.

Mrs Harper's doing something
special for you son...

so sit down.

I wouldn't read that
if I was you.

Won't want to touch a
thing after that. Horrible!

Oh! Banker brutally
murdered.

'Henry Durnley found
stabbed'.

'Multiple stomach wounds'.

Banker, eh?

Well, that's closed
his account!

There's none of us safe these
days, if you ask me.

Not since they give
up hanging.

No, and we won't be
'til they bring it back either.

You mark my words!

Mind you, they say he might
be one of these...

oh, what do ya call 'em...

'Psychopratts'.

'Psychopaths', Mrs Clark?

That's it!

I don't give a damn what
his religion is... I'd top 'im!

But if he is a psychopath,
he's a very sick man.

Who says so?

I'll tell you something...

tha... that's an argument
that makes me sick!

What about... this, err...

Durnley chap. What about
feeling sorry for him then, eh?!

Look, of course I
feel sorry for him...

it's easy when
a man's dead.

It's easy when a man's blind
or deaf, or lost a limb.

You can see it.

But how about a man who
can feeling nothing for anyone...

except for himself?

Who doesn't know
what love is...

or pity, who has
no conscience.

Who's only feeling is
of rage, when frustrated.

And only fun, destroying
those who frustrate him.

Now, it's hard to feel
sorry for him, isn't it?

- Oh, dear.
- Yet, he is really sick...

he's diseased.

And there very few
of us who can help him.

Sphericals!

If he's off his trolley,
I still say 'top 'im'!

Here we are. Morning
everyone.

- Morning.
- Good morning.

Morning.

- Here you are, Georgie.
- Thanks.

Eat it all up now, it'll
make you strong.

Fresh toast, Shashie?

Most kind, Mrs Harper.

Oh, Georgie...

I'll be ready in
about an hour.

Ok.

Hey...!

You're not so backward,
are you, son?

Pardon?

So you've got two then?

Two what?

Eggs, of course.

Oh, yes.

- Sleep well last night?
- Mmm.

Yeah. I bet you did!

Where's Susan gone to?

Gawd... blimey!

You're a bit of a
glutton, aren't you, son?!

You'll be asking for
old Clarkie next.

When's it gonna
be her turn?!

- I see...
- Oh. Sorry.

I...

Going in for bodybuilding
now then, are you?

Hmm?

Building up his strength?

Oh.

Yeah.

Huh!

Making quite a fuss
of him, aren't you?

Well, why not?

Bit strong, isn't it?

What is?

With a half-wit!?

Your jokes are getting
a bit stale, Gerry.

And... everything else
as well. Is that it?

Well, now you come
to mention it.

Oh look here, Gerry. I think
you better leave.

What?

Shall we say a week?

You can say what you
bloody well like!

What does it mean
'top him'?

Oh.

It's an old... British
remedy, Georgie.

Admired by those who
find it... easier to kill...

than to... cure.

Right, lets get some
light on it.

Yes...

that's about it.

How 'bout the
footprints, Tom?

Rubber soles. Eight and
a half.

His missus says this door's
always kept locked.

So looks as though who
ever it was...

was waiting for him
over there.

That lock been forced?

No, Sir.

Oh no, here comes
the brain drain!

Stay where you are, you.

- Morning, Taffy.
- Morning, Superintendent.

Brought your crystal ball?

What do you see?

Well, Sir...

deceased died of multiple injuries
inflicted by a sharp instrument.

Time, approximately
midnight.

Contents of stomach...

oysters, white fish, possibly
halibut...

Yes, I don't want
the menu...

just give me the
weapon.

The walls of the
lower abdomen...

have been punctured
three times to a depth...

I said weapon!

Scissors.

Tell you what...

double or quits this
isn't a pro job. You on?

I'm getting old, Super...

saving for retirement.

That raincoat... anything?

Oh yes, Sir...

plastic, new, large size...

mass produced, colour grey...

Yes, I'm not colour-blind.

Blood stains, group 'O',
rhesus-positive...

identical with deceased.

- That the lot, Taffy?
- Yes, Sir.

And I left my brains
on the beat!

What have you
fellows got?

Electromagnifiers, computers,
memory banks...

ultraviolet, supersonic
microwave machines.

They buy you a half-million
pound lab and stick you in it...

with a bunch of birds wearing
skirts just long enough...

to cover their parking meters...

and what do you
come up with?

No more than my nipper could
'ave told me the day he was...

old enough to raise his...

truncheon!

Give me that!

And get on your feet, that man,
whad'ya think you are...

the sleeping bloody beauty!

Yes?

Sorry to trouble you again.
Doctor, do you mind?

I'd like Mrs Durnley to
get some sleep.

What is it?

It's this raincoat, Ma'am.

Ever seen it before?

No.

You're quite sure?

Yeah.

Oh, there was just
one other thing.

Does anyone else have
keys to the garage?

Thompson.

My son, Martin.

Myself.

Thompson, Ma'am... staff?

No, from the mews...

he washes the cars.

I see.

And your son?

He's away.

Perhaps you chaps
could help us there?

He's in France,
somewhere.

Should be here
with his mother.

Well hasn't anyone
heard from him?

Oh, yes.

We had a sweet
letter from him.

Made his father
so happy.

Mmm.

He doesn't say where
he's going, eh?

Well, we'll have to see
what we can do.

I'll leave you to rest
now, Mrs Durnley.

Thank you, Doctor.

- Superintendent...
- Ma'am?

If... if nothing was
was stolen...

no money taken...

why?

Why?!

Well that's what we
hope to find out, Ma'am.

...see the wife's mother.
Her night off.

I see.

What was he like,
your boss?

Alright.

No frills.
One of us, really.

Sounds like my boss, he's
got no frills.

No bleedin' heart either.

It's first time I've been off
my feet all week!

On duty, Sergeant Rogers?

Err... yes, Sir.

So I see.

Let's 'ave it.

- You made this?
- My wife, Sir.

Well you wanna look
after her...

it's a good cuppa.

That young Durnley?
Yes, Sir.

A nice looking lad.

Yes, Sir.

This is gonna come as
quite a blow to him.

Yes, Sir?

Well, won't it?

Yes, Sir.

He, he, he.

Young Mr Martin's
parting gift.

What this?

Quite a joker,
that lad.

Oh... great sense
of humour.

For those who
understand it.

Oh quick, that man... get
him back for me, will you?

Yes, Sir.

Err... yes, Sir?

Ahh... Rogers...

You're doing a fine job!
Finish your tea.

Hey!

Come on!

Sue...

Let's blow.

Where to?

I'm easy. Your room?

Don't be a drag, Philip!

My place then?

Why not?

Don't want.

You've never tried.

Philip, you're stoned!

Put me to bed, then.

Look...

you can sleep it off,
or have it off...

but not with me!

Night, Susan.

You bloody idiot you!

God, it's a complete
right-off!

What the hell were
you up to?!

I saw that...

bastard did it
on purpose!

What?!

I ought to... stuff this
down your bloody throat!

Philip!

Stop it!

It's alright, Georgie.

Couldn't be helped.

You get off to bed.

That's it.

Goodnight.

Couldn't be helped?!

You heard what
Mac said.

Mac could be mistaken.

Well...

it's been a long day.

Party's over.

Party?

There you are, Philip...

send me the bill.

Mac, you'd better drive.

Ok.

Come on, Judy.

Thanks a lot.
Goodnight.

Well err... see you
tomorrow then?

No.

But we're going
swimming.

I am.

Got you.

So, when do I see
you again then?

Next term. Perhaps.

If you're carrying
field glasses.

They're waiting for
you, Philip.

Oh... alright!

And thanks...
for nothing!

Come on, Georgie!

Oh, it's freezing!

I've had enough.

Race you back.

One, two, three... go!

Susan!

Help!

Help!

Help!

Oh!

Oh!

Ever been had!?

Oh... you cheat!

Let me get you...

Oh, I nearly died of fright.

Oh, it's cold!

Here, dry yourself. Get
dressed. Quickly.

Like it here?

- Super!
- Yes.

Dad and I used to come here
quite a lot in the old days.

Georgie!

You'll get us locked-up,
Georgie.

I'd better get
decent too.

- No one's here.
- But I am!

Any brothers or
sisters, Georgie?

A brother.

Pete.

Where's he?

Australia.

On a sheep farm.

He's the boss.

Does he look like you?

Girls like him.

He's big. Strong.

Plays the guitar too.

Sounds quite
a swinger.

I'd like to meet
your brother Pete.

Yes.

He'd marry you.

Huh!

Oh, Georgie!

Oh, Georgie...

how lovely!

Thank you.

How sweet of you.

Georgie!

Don't you ever
do that again!

...lay back upper two,
lay back...

...drop your wrists four.
You're late. That's better.

One step, two step, three step...

four step, five step, six step...

Sorry, Susan.

Let's forget it, Georgie.

I dare say it was
my fault, really.

I'll get these things
packed up.

Well come on, take hold
of the other end.

Any cigarettes?

You're just putting
one out.

Alright.

What's the matter with
you this morning...

you're as jumpy as
a kitten?

Nothing.

You know, when
Gerry leaves...

I think I'll
move Georgie.

- Mum!
- Mmm?

I think it's time
Georgie went too.

Why?

Because it's too great
a responsibility.

Oh, what is?

Thinking we could cope.
We don't know enough.

Well there's nothing
to know.

He's just a child.

He may talk
like a child...

but look at him, Mum.
Look at him!

I have.

But he's a man!

As a matter of fact, he slept
down here the other night.

He what?!

Like a child.

Hadn't you heard?

Oh...

so that's what Gerry
was sniggering about!

He had a nightmare.

He was frightened.

He wanted his mum.

Nothing else.

Could have been
your father!

There's an awful lot of waste
in this world, isn't there?

There's an awful lot
to understand.

Mrs 'arper!

Yes, Clarkie?

It's for Georgie,
from Paris.

Well that'll be
his father.

Shall I take it?

No it's alright,
I'm going down...

Oh do the boy's bedroom will you
Darling, it's Clarkie's half-day.

Mmm... ok.

Hello?

No I'm sorry, Georgie's
out at the moment.

Is that his father?

Oh... hello, Mr Clifford!

No, no, this is
Mrs Harper.

We were beginning to
think you didn't exist!

Yes, yes, Georgie's
very well...

we've all grown very
fond of him.

Oh, that's very nice of
you to say so, thank you.

I'm sorry, I didn't
quite catch that...

would you repeat it?

I said my work's
almost finished...

and I'd like Georgie
to join me.

It's time he had
a holiday.

That was his father
on the 'phone.

You needn't
have worried...

he won't be here
much longer.

Good.

Yes, I thought
you'd say that.

This the lad's?

Yes, Clarkie.

- Mum...
- Mmm...

Has Georgie every mentioned
anyone named Durnley?

Who?

Martin Durnley.

No, why?

That was that man's
name, wasn't it?

Durnley?

You know...

one they said was done it
in by a psychopratt.

Now don't you go pulling
out all them old papers...

I want them for
me fires.

It's all they're fit for,
most of 'em.

What are you
looking for?

Just something I
remember reading.

- Mum.
- Mmm?

I'm going into
London.

London?

But you haven't
got time.

But hey, what about
the library...

you're supposed to
be there at one!

Yes, I remember the
incident very clearly.

I'm sure we did
take his name...

we always do
you know.

Should be in
here somewhere.

Let me see.

Yes, I thought so.
Here we are.

Oh, do come in.

That chair, nurse.

Susan, isn't it?

That's right.

Please sit down.

Thank you.

Mrs Durnley, I came to talk
to you about Georgie.

Georgie?

Isn't he sometimes
called 'Georgie'?

Who is?

Your son.

My son's name is Martin.

Oh. Is he here?

No, he's away.

Do you know where?

Naturally.

Somewhere I could
'phone him?

It's rather difficult.

It's very important
to me.

He's in France.

France?

Travelling.

Mrs Durnley, you're quite
sure of that?

Yes of course
I'm sure.

Hello, Georgie.

Where's Susan?

Out.

Oh.

You want to make
yourself useful...

I need some more firewood,
there's a good boy.

Look, what is all
this about?

You seem very anxious.

I am.

Well then, hadn't you better
come out with it?

Well, I'm not sure.

Not absolutely sure
that I can, yet.

Miss Harper, you're not in
some sort of trouble, are you?

Trouble?

Well if you are, you must
be quite frank about it.

You wouldn't be
the first girl that...

Oh no...

at least, not in
that way.

Then what are
you here for?

Mrs Durnley...

I don't quite know how
to say this, but...

I have to ask...

Is your son handicapped
in any way?

What do you mean?!

Forgive me but...

Is Martin... mentally
backward?

Retarded?

Martin, retarded?!

Certainly not!

He's a perfectly normal,
healthy boy!

I don't know what your
little game is...

or what you hope to
get out of this,

but I certainly don't want
to listen to any more of it.

You must go now.

Please!

I'm sorry.

I never meant to
upset you.

And thank you for
seeing me.

Goodbye, Mrs Durnley.

Don't go!

Please!

I'm sorry.

Tell me, why did you
come here today?

Do you know
where he is?

Mrs Harper?

I'm off, then.

Alright, Clarkie. See
you tomorrow.

That's right.

Ladies and gentlemen,

possibly the most important
scientific discovery...

of the last century.

The chromosome.

Invisible to the naked eye,

what we are,

how we look,

indeed in some cases
what we become,

depends on the number,

and nature, of these
little blighters.

We get... twenty-three
from mum,

twenty-three from dad.

Forty-six, in all.

And...

God help us if anything
goes wrong with them.

Now then,

I want you to look
at the chromosomes...

of a normal person.

Afterwards,

I shall want you to look
at those of someone...

who appears to
be normal.

Hello, Susan. What
brings you here?

Oh Shashie, I'm sorry,

but I must have a word.

Is there somewhere
we can talk?

Yes, of course.

Come on.

We can talk in here.

Now, the abnormal.

Do you see?

The abnormality
is here.

A translocated fusion.

Part of one chromosome
has split off,

and fused with another.

There is now a one
in three chance,

that any child
produced, will be...

...a Mongol.

That's what his
brother really is.

Not a sheep farmer
in Australia.

Hmm, rough.

Yes.

But that wasn't all.

In most cases,

bad luck.

An accident of nature.
The next child...

perfectly normal.

But, if the fusion is
permanent,

and a blood test
will show,

then we have to warn
the unfortunate person...

no more children.

They might just as well have
told her not to breath.

So she went ahead,
did she, and had Martin.

Oh dear, oh dear.

She's so lost, so
lonely, Shashie.

She didn't love, she
worshipped him.

Fed him, washed him,
dressed him.

There wasn't anything she
didn't do for him.

And everyday of
his life...

she searched him.

Searched for signs.

The shape of
his eyes,

and the palms of
his hands,

and the soles
of his little feet.

All the time,

scared to death at
what she might find.

Now...

let me impress on you,

any relatives of
a Mongol...

are usually as normal
as you or I.

If they're not, it has nothing
to do with Mongolism.

One in every seven hundred
is born a Mongol,

but, ten times
that number,

roughly, one in
every hundred,

suffers from other forms
of mental disturbance.

I find myself asking,

is it really the home,

the environment,

the way a person
is brought up,

that creates the...

neurotic, the psychopath,

the psychotic?

Or could it be some...

error in the chromosome
structure?

Working beyond
the compass...

of our most powerful
microscope,

could the poet have
devined the truth...

before science,

when he wrote;

'No puppet master...'

'pulls the strings on high.'

'A twisted nerve,'

'a ganglion gone awry,'

'Predestinates the sinner...'

'or the saint.'

Still at it, Georgie?

You are working hard.

Be careful, that's
very sharp.

I've just put the kettle on,
come and have a cup of tea.

Where's Susan
gone to?

London.

I've got a surprise
for you, Georgie.

Guess who 'phoned?

Daddy.

He wants to take
you away, Georgie.

I shall miss you.

When you go and Susan's
back at school, I shall be alone.

Will you miss me?

When's she coming back?

Susan?

She didn't say.

Oh yes, that reminds me...

what was it now she was
so anxious to know...

Oh yes, had you ever mentioned
anyone called 'Durnley'?

Yes, that was the
man's name... 'Durnle...'

Georgie!

Georgie, you've
cut yourself...

oh you poor boy!

Use your handkerchief.

What did she say?

You better come up to my room
and let me see to it...

What did she say,
she say, say...?

About the Durnleys?

Oh 'Martin', that was his first
name, I've just remembered.

Who is he, Georgie... hmm?

Who is he, this 'Martin'?

I wonder if he's anything to
do with that murder.

His name was Durnley.

What is it? You're
trembling.

It's alright. Tell Mummy
all about it.

I'll teach her, teach her,
teach her...

What's the matter?

What is it?

Take your filthy
hands off... ME!

You're mad!

She wants me to
send him back.

Well?

Shashie, I'm scared.

What is he, schizo,
or something?

Autistic, more likely.

Rather stay a child,
a baby, if he could.

And with a mother
like that,

feeding him a daily diet
of her anxieties...

I don't wonder at it.

I tell you what I've
been wondering...

that night his
father died,

did he really have
that nightmare?

Oh... sorry, Sir.

They want Harold and Mary,
here, for the next show.

Alright.

What do I do?

You come with me.

Morning, gentlemen.

- Morning, Sir.
- All ready for a trip 'round the bay?

Where's the Maharaja?

Ahh, Kumar. You with
us today?

Err... sorry, Sir John.
Just coming.

There you are, see what
you chaps can pick up...

in a teaching hospital!

- Ha, ha, ha.
- Come on.

Well he usually goes
around like a dose of salts.

So I shan't be long.

But when you go back, I'm
going with you, understand?

- Thank you, Shashie.
- Good.

Oh, nurse...

is there a 'phone?

- On the ground floor.
- Oh damn! Really?

- Is it urgent?
- Yes.

Look, Sister's in casualty,
use hers.

- Oh could I?
- If you're quick about it...

but don't tell her
her I told you!

Thank you.

This telephone is for
staff use only!

Sorry, Sister.

Fourpence, please.

There was no reply.
Thank you.

Let's ask the Maharaja.

He's good with the girls.

Diagnosis, please.

Uhm...

The character of the
abdominal pains,

suggests an infection of
the lower intestine.

Oh no, it's not that.

It isn't?

No... it's them pills the
black nurse give me.

I've been on the
bed pan ever since.

- You have?
- Yes.

I'm on it now!

In that case we
better leave you.

Mum?

Mum?

Anyone at home?

Mum?

Are you down there?

Mum!

Hello?

Hello, Susan?

Oh, it's you, Shashie.

Did you get my note?

- I nearly got heart failure!
- Yes I'm sorry...

but I'd forgotten it
was Clarkie's half day...

and I didn't want Mum
to be alone here.

Are you alright?

Yes, I'm alright.

Is your mother there?

No, she's out.

No sign of anyone.

Good!

Now if he does show...
keep out of his way.

I'm leaving as
soon as I can.

Yes, Doctor!

- Bye.
- Goodbye.

Uhh!

Gerry!

Yoike!

It's you!

Well, it's not a
bloody Ghost!

You look as if you're
expecting one.

You're early.

Well... I'm drunk!

Celebration?

What, yeah...

yeah... well I said I'd
do it, and I've done it!

You call 'em
'films', I said.

'Films'?!

'Celluloid manure',
that's more like it!

I... gave it to 'em...

the whole script.

Uncut.. in new over.. 3D and..
stereo..le..phonic sound...

and... there was no interval
for refreshments, either!

Ha, ha, ha...

What did they say?

You're fired!

Fired?

Oh... dear!

Ha, ha! 'oh dear'... that's
very good... yes.. ha, ha...

He, he... twelve years...

twelve years I've been...

kissing their backsides and
now... I'm out on mine!

Lost me job...

lost my home...

Ahh...

And I've lost my senses
by the look of it as well!

Let me make you
some coffee.

Oh...

Make you feel better.

No, not just now...
thanks, love.

Have you got an aspirin?

Soon get some.

- Huh!
- Don't scream!

Hello, Susan.

Hello, Georgie.

Sur... surprised you.

Didn't I?

Yes... I was just getting
some aspirin for Gerry.

He's downstairs.

Better stay there.

You've had a busy day.

Yes.

Visiting?

Yes.

Anyone I know?

You hurt your hand.

It's ok.

Your mum saw to it.

Before she went out.

How's... m...

mm... mmm...my old lady?

She wants you back.

Martin.

Yeah.

I've got other ideas.

And we're a bit pushed.

Put that on.

Why?

You want to look
your best, don't you?

What for?

Getting married.

Go ahead...

Put it on... Susan!

He bribed a porter to post
that letter. We know that.

He never went to Paris.
We know that.

Now, where's he hiding?

And why?

Ever thought
about death?

Dream it?

It's like swimming.

Only, there's no one
there to pull you out.

There will be time for everything,
with a bit of luck.

You cant help what you
dream. Can you?

You can't.

And it's all night long.

All night.

Sleep well, my Darling?
Yes thank you, Mummy.

Some dreams you don't
have to be asleep for.

Like the ones about you.

They'd surprise you.

Would you like a
surprise, Susan... first?

Sit down.

No!

No, not there.

Here.

Oh...

Ooh...

No... bloody wood!

Do you know what I dreamt
you'd do then, Susan?

Do you? Do you?

Listen to this.

Listen...!

It has to be slowly.

Very slowly.

You... pull me over you.
Right over you.

I can feel your knee pressing
beneath me and it's... hard.

And when the nurse
brought him in...

and gave him to me...

the doctor said...

'you can stop worrying'...

'you've been lucky'...

'he's not a Mongol'.

Can you understand...

can you imagine
how I felt, Susan?

I wept.

He was so beautiful.

A miracle!

That's how I wanted
to keep him.

A baby. In my
arms, forever.

I've waited so long, you see.

That's why it
has to be slowly.

Slowly.

Only, if a man asked
a girl that...

she'd laugh,
wouldn't she?

I wouldn't laugh, Georgie.

You wouldn't?

Alright then, Susan.

Take it.

Go on.

Take it.

Take it!

No, Georgie!

Why not?!

Tell me! Why not!?

Shh!

There you are, listen.

Like wedding bells.

Now, Susan.

Now!

I can't, I tell you!
I can't!

Then why pretend
you could!?

Why!?

You've got to now,
do you hear?

Do you hear?
GOT TO!

- No!
- ARRRGGHHH!

Meurgh...

Uurgghhh...

Here, put it on.

We're going.

You go.

No, us...

us, us, us, US!

I'm not going.

Not with you, Martin.

With Georgie, then.

Georgie.

No!

You're going to
kill me anyway.

Oh, damn!

- Who is it?
- It's me, Shashie!

Ohh... thank God!

Hey, what's wrong?
What's the matter?!

- In the shed.
- Uh?

It's horrible!
In the shed.

No!

Have you called
the police?

Yeah.. well.. I was just
gonna fetch them.

Where's Susan?

- She was here.
- Susan!

Don't you let him, Georgie!

Don't let him!

She may have gone out
to buy some aspirin.

Well quickly take a
look downstairs.

Have you gone bloody mad?
He might be down there!

I don't wanna get chopped.

Hello, Police?

Help me!
Help me!

Oh!

Oh... damn!

Help me.

Help me.

Don't!

Don't!

Please, Georgie.

Please.

You're like all
the others...

others... others.

No! No, Georgie!

Nooo...!
Help!

Now watch ya step.
This chap's a nutter!

Yes you are!

All the same!

All of you!

Martin's dead.

He's been bad.

N... not Georgie.

Bad... bad Marty!

And now... I lay me down to sleep,

pray the Lord my soul to keep.

If I die before I wake...

if I die before I...

wake...

Get 'im!

Susan?

Susan.

Susan. Susan.
Susan. Susan...

Susan...

'A twisted nerve,'

'a ganglion gone awry,'

'Predestinates the sinner...'

'or the saint.'

Susan.

Susan.

Susan.

Susan.