Capital (2015): Season 1, Episode 2 - Episode #1.2 - full transcript
- Are you getting these too?
- Every day now.
Everyone in the road.
Detective Inspector Mill.
Here about the postcards.
It's because we're
all millionaires.
Our houses. You wouldn't find a
doctor down here before. Or a banker.
Thank you, Mark.
No need to over-elaborate
on the terminology,
we all know you're a
clever young man.
There's no reason why this bonus might
not be closer to two million than one.
I buy new, everything top spec.
You know me, Mrs Yount.
My personal guarantee.
But I have met a
wonderful lady here.
If you're looking for the
sender of those postcards,
how about someone who comes here
every morning with a grudge?
If I return, I will be killed.
You do know you're not legally
permitted to work, don't you?
- Ms Kwama Lyons.
- What do you want?
Well, why don't we start with
you telling me your real name?
- It's me. Lqbal Rashid.
- What you doing here?
Hope you don't mind
me using your laptop.
- Who's the artist?
- It's my grandson.
We could perhaps treat the
tumour with chemotherapy.
No.
Don't you think now might be
the right time to sell up?
- It's too late now.
- No it isn't.
Yes it is. It's too late.
I've gone away for a few days...
Turn that off, Conrad.
Give you a glimpse of
what it's like to be me.
You spoilt, lazy,
lame excuse of a man.
Goodness knows what
fresh Alaska awaits.
I'm just hoping my absence might
have made the penny drop,
but I'm not holding my breath.
I am going to have
to go, darling.
There appears to have been
some kind of nuclear war.
Roger!
Roger!
Daddy said bad words,
Joshy did a poo.
And Father Christmas brought
me an Emperor Zurg.
Hello. I'm Matya. Can I
help you with your bag?
Did you bring presents, Mummy?
Ripped By mstoll
- It's Autobots fighting Decepticons.
- Oh, that's lovely, darling.
- There you go.
- An agency?
On Christmas Day? You
must have been keen.
I had just finished my last job.
I have references.
I'm sure you do.
Conrad, Mummy might like
one of the cakes we made.
Ooh, they look lovely, darling.
Maybe later though, yes? Hmm?
I'm just going to go upstairs
and see my grown-up child.
Oh, hi. You're back.
Didn't hear you over the 1990s.
- Nice break?
- Yes, thank you.
You've met Matya?
I've just hired her.
She's, er, my very own
Christmas miracle.
Well, haven't you
been enterprising?
I hope you weren't too
worried about the boys.
Mind you. They're very resilient,
aren't they, children?
Now. Where to begin?
Roger, I really
can't be having...
I think we are looking at a
period of fiscal rectitude.
Fiscal rectitude?
Sounds like some sort of
internal examination.
Roger, you and I both know
your bonus is about to
come bouncing home.
Ah, my bonus. Yes,
now, my bonus,
do you know how much
my bonus is this year?
It's not two million. It's not one million.
It's Ł30,000.
You expect me to
believe that, Roger?
Just grow up.
India, darling. Merry Christmas.
How lovely to hear from you.
No, no skiing's off this
year, wrist-slashing tedium.
Just a little cottage in Minchinhampton.
Hardly a holiday.
Shoes off.
Turn around, please.
Feet up.
And the other.
- See you, mate.
- Bye.
Say, "hello" to Daadi.
Why are you crying, little baby?
Babies do need their sleep, Rohinka.
Night, Ammi.
Shahid, are you there?
I've met a dentist
with three daughters.
- All of them dentists.
- I've got a dentist, thank you, Ammi.
Nice Jewish chap
in Golders Green.
We'll talk some more when I
come to visit next week.
What? Next week?
- What?
- Mum, it's, uh, cold this time of year.
Why don't you try spring, hey?
I think you need me to come and speak to
the police about those abusive postcards
you told me about, Ahmed.
What?
Or will you be leaving
me waiting at Heathrow
at the mercy of
muggers and Africans?
9:00 pm. Terminal 5. Wednesday.
Make sure you find out
from the travel agent.
What?
What?
What did you tell her
about the postcards for?
- I was making conversation.
- Nice one.
What, do you think I like having
her over criticising my business,
my weight, the way I bring up my
kids and my conduct as a Muslim.
She might have a point there.
It's all right for you.
You're under her radar.
The moment I'm married off to some
embarrassed girl you'll be next in line.
Are you going to denounce
arranged marriage?
Not for you, perhaps. Only chance
you've got with those looks.
Hello.
We're going to get the
Internet material taken down
and we are well on our way to
tracing the owners of the blog.
But that's not the same
thing as finding out
who the person or persons
responsible are.
And that's where you come in.
The community. The
eyes and ears.
The vandalism in the street. The graffiti.
I want you all to be vigilant.
We need you to be vigilant.
Any strange behaviour.
Any detail. Any sound.
However insignificant.
Yes? The gentleman there
with the blue jumper.
When you came into our shop,
you mentioned harassment
as one of the likely charges.
That's just something that happens
in their head, though right?
Like, if I feel harassed by
you, that counts as harassment?
Well, perhaps now isn't the
best time for a discussion
on the etymology of the
term, "harassment."
The majority of the people
in this room are here
because they feel upset or distressed
by these things that have happened.
It isn't fair to call it
"something in their heads".
Will there be compensation
of some kind?
It's not really my
area, I'm afraid.
But are you aware if it has had an
effect on the local housing market?
- The purpose of this meeting...
- That traffic warden.
The African lady. She had
nothing to do with it, then?
Er, no.
No. The campaign had nothing to
do with her, as it turns out.
So why'd you arrest her?
I think we may be straying
away from the subject here.
Erm...
I promise you she had nothing
to do with the postcards.
If she was committing criminal
acts in our road then surely...
She was working illegally
in contravention of
her refugee status.
Does that count as
a result for you?
Like it's the League Cup,
but it's still a trophy?
There was footage of my children outside
our house posted on that website.
And that's not something
anybody wants to happen,
but if it's any comfort, it doesn't
seem like your children were targeted.
It looks like a coincidence that
they wandered into the film
while the person or persons
unknown were making it.
A coincidence? Oh, I see.
Well, since by your own admission,
you literally don't have a clue
then I fail to see how your explanation
is even remotely reassuring.
You didn't have to say anything.
"Harassment is in the mind."
What's that even supposed to mean?
I was deconstructing his
imperialist mode of discourse.
Yep. I think that landed.
Look, look, you were
wasting police time.
I just want them to stop some idiot
sending cards and DVDs in the post.
I don't need you
wasting their time.
Did you notice how he called me
"gentleman in the blue jumper,"
to avoid saying "Asian"?
It was hilarious.
It was a waste of time, really.
Were the Kamal family there?
Very nice family. Run the shop.
I didn't recognise
anybody at all.
Not a single soul. Don't
you think that's amazing?
I would have recognised people.
I'm not saying you
wouldn't have, Mum.
The Kamal family for a start.
So you keep saying.
When you think about it, this
is your house, but is it...
Is it your home any more?
I mean it's bricks and mortar when
it comes down to it, isn't it?
This is where I want to die.
What?
Who's talking about that?
You are. Aren't you? Isn't that
where all this is leading.
Let's not tip-toe
round the tulips.
I want to die here, where
I've lived all my life.
And I'm sorry if
that's inconvenient.
Am I talking about that, Mum?
No, I'm not.
I'm thinking about where
you'd be most comfortable.
I can move your bed
downstairs to my dining room.
I've got a downstairs
toilet so...
Well, bully for you.
I'm sorry. That wasn't kind.
Thank you. For all you're doing.
Like what?
You've never been an
easy girl to thank.
Like your dad.
Right well, let's not
go there now, hey?
Mum. What?
What? Stop stressing about her.
I'll come and see Gran.
I'll give you a night off.
Mum, of course I can
look after her.
I've worked in a
hospital for two years.
You make some arrangements.
Go out.
I don't know where. Anywhere.
Non-negotiable.
See you later.
- Families, eh?
- Yeah.
Fuck 'em, hey?
- What did you say?
- Mine. Yours. Just a trick of biology.
You're, you're saying,
fuck my family
Is that what you're saying?
You're disrespecting my family?
This is my Gran we're
talking about.
- Goodfellas, right?
- What?
Joe Pesci. You know?
"Saying I'm funny. How I'm a clown.
I amuse you".
- That's what you're doing isn't it?
- That's you all over, isn't it?
Everything always reminds
you of something else.
You wouldn't know real anger if it
come and bit your bollocks off.
I don't get it. Are
you, are you angry now?
Yeah. Yeah. That was me being angry.
It's a real emotion.
Sound familiar at all? No?
You just don't feel
anything do you?
And until you do, you will
always be my assistant,
secretly thinking that it
should be you in the big chair
and me running around
with the coffees.
I can get angry.
My coffee's cold.
Get it yourself.
I think now you're mistaking
anger with petulance.
Just go and get me a coffee.
Quick.
Don't trouble me, huh? I hope
you have my flight number.
Will I bring my own bedding this time or
have you replaced those terrible sheets?
We have bought new fitted
sheets and a new duvet.
- Nice and warm.
- Not too warm, I hope.
Oh, you're breaking up.
I saw that.
Don't judge me, Shahid.
I would never judge
you, Rohinka.
Well, if you do I
might just point out
that your flat's bigger and
she could stay at yours.
I can't see her sharing a
sofa with Iqbal, can you?
No.
But, it might be good to watch.
Brilliant.
This is brilliant.
- Where will I go?
- Well, there must be someone at the mosque
with a spare room going who
doesn't know what you're like.
That was a joke, by the way.
It can't be helped. It's family.
I'm sorry.
Why would your mum stay here and not
with your brother and the kids?
Because, Iqbal, she
wants to work on me.
Marriage and all that.
I think she's got somebody in mind.
A dentist from Karachi.
It isn't fair.
She has two sisters, also
dentists, if you're interested.
That isn't what I mean.
I know, Iqbal.
But, if you knew Mamji,
she's like a drone, mate.
And you're what the American infidels
will call, "collateral damage".
Morning.
Just these two.
Thank you.
Oh.
Thank you for keeping the evidence.
I'll be in touch.
It's an escalation, isn't it?
It's more serious than before.
It's terrorism almost.
Well, I'm not sure I'd call getting a
dead animal shoved through your door
terrorism exactly, but...
I can't help thinking we're
the wrong kind of victim.
Can you please start taking
this problem more seriously?
I can only keep saying that we
are doing everything we can.
Which we are.
Ah. Hello, erm...
DI Mill.
Well I'll leave you to it.
Mr Yount. Mrs Yount.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
- What did he want?
- We've had a corpse delivered in the post.
An animal of some kind.
Right. Right. Well, why don't you
tell me about it on the way.
We do need to get a move on.
You can't seriously
think I'm still coming?
Completely traumatised.
Oh, Graham.
I didn't mean to disturb you.
Your mother said you'd be here.
Yeah. Mum's gone out.
She's on a large one.
That doesn't sound
much like your mum.
Are you all right?
Stupid question, really.
Just tired.
What you listening to on your
what's-it, your hearing aids?
You wouldn't have
heard of it, Gran.
I wouldn't be so
sure about that.
The builders have their
radios on full blast all day.
You'll be picking up a fair bit of
Polish swear words as well then.
You all right, Gran?
Do you want some water?
All I want is to know
you'll be all right.
I know.
Are you?
Are you all right?
Yeah.
Yeah, I am.
Why should I believe that?
How do I know you're not just saying
that to keep a dying old lady happy?
I'll tell you why.
But don't you go
telling anybody else.
A secret?
I like that.
You know what? I think
it's a terrible idea.
She'll be bored out of her mind.
It'll be a nice change for her.
I've been to those things a thousand
times before, I find them so vulgar.
Matya, on the other
hand, is from Hungary.
The nearest she's probably
come to genuine luxury
is the EasyJet departure lounge.
Exactly. She'll be
out of her depth.
With your colleagues?
Don't be stupid.
She won't have to talk much,
just sit there looking pretty
and pretending to listen
while they go wanking on
about shooting and the
congestion charge.
They'll think she's an escort.
They're bankers. They'll
admire your chutzpah.
If they interrogate you
further, say I'm staying away
as a protest against
your tiny bonus.
They should be having a charity
auction for us, quite frankly.
Wow. You look so much
better in it than I do.
That, Roger, is your cue to say
something flattering to me.
The next lot is a day's
fly-fishing in Wiltshire.
Chalk stream. Complete
with cream tea.
And who will give me Ł500?
- Is all this just for fishing?
- Five hundred...
- From a river?
- Six? Seven hundred?
You wait, it gets a whole
lot more expensive.
Nine.
And it's all for charity.
Well, they are very generous.
No. Just very competitive
and ostentatious.
They haven't got a charitable
bone in their body.
You talk as though you hate it.
Gone. For Ł1,300.
Rog. Rog.
Fuck me. You're a dark horse.
How much did you pay for her?
I'm going to have to
change my escort agency.
If you must know, Arabella's ill.
She's our children's nanny.
So you, uh... Have you bid yet?
I don't think so.
Would you like to?
- I don't have that money.
- No. I do. Go on.
The next lot is a signed
Roger Federer shirt, 2012.
- I'll pay. Go on. Come on.
- Who'll start me?
- No. No.
- Just to see what it feels like.
Come on. You should see
the look on your face.
Eight hundred. Somebody
start me at 800.
- Go on. Go on.
- Eight hundred.
That's it.
That's 800 to the lady
in the green dress.
Who will give me Ł900?
Over there. Yes, you.
One thousand?
- Go on. Again. Again.
- One thousand, five hundred.
Go on.
One thousand, six hundred.
Yes. Come on, one more and we'll get it.
One more. Come on.
- One thousand, seven hundred.
- Go on, go on, go on, go on.
One thousand, eight hundred?
One thousand, eight hundred.
One thousand, eight hundred.
Going once. Going twice.
Gone to the lady in
the green dress.
Thank you.
Oh, my...
- What'd you say?
- Oh, my God...
Not much of a night?
Back this early.
By your standards, perhaps.
God knows how you get up
for work in the morning.
You don't need to
worry about me.
Good. 'Cause I haven't
got any worry left.
Thanks for looking
after her for tonight.
It was nice to see her.
- We had a nice chat, you know.
- No, I don't know.
She only ever talks to me if
she wants to go to the toilet.
It was mainly me, all right?
Don't patronise me. And stop
talking in that accent.
You weren't brought
up to talk like that.
How would you know?
You weren't even there.
Well, your Gran wouldn't like it.
How about that.
Does that count?
It's not a competition.
"Palliative care in the
community," they call it.
- What?
- What we're doing now.
Arguing while Mum dies.
They give it a title so that it
sounds like they're doing something.
But, they're not.
They gave it a title. That
is them doing something.
Can't you just agree
with me that it's tough?
What is it all for? In the end?
Look at this place. A
lifetime of clutter.
- Is that all there is?
- There's nothing wrong with this place.
Oh, for god's sake! I'm not saying
that there's anything wrong with it!
Twenty Silk Cut, please.
Of course.
How is your mother?
How is Mrs Howe?
Erm, she's, um...
Oh, erm, do you do decorating?
Yes. From time to time.
I know that you're a builder.
I'm from number 84.
Do you do painting, papering,
refurbishment, that kind of thing?
When do you want to start doing?
Well, the sooner the better.
As soon as possible.
Thank you. Thanks.
Well, now I feel like
I've corrupted you.
Why are you saying that?
Well, because I encouraged you to
bid Ł2,000 for a sweaty T-shirt.
A sweaty T-shirt worn by
Roger Federer at Wimbledon.
There is a difference.
I think I'll have to put it by my bed
so I can see it before I go to sleep.
Well, of course.
Er, don't, don't do that.
You're still on your night out.
Please. Don't do that now.
Okay.
It's odd, but I've always had a
lot of time for Roger Federer.
Not least because he's the
only cool Roger in the world.
Apart from Roger Moore, that is.
I'm sure he's very
much before your time.
Well.
At least now you'll be able to tell
your friends in Hungary, it's true.
The English do have
more money than sense.
Why are you always apologising
for what you've got?
Because I'm not
sure how I got it.
Because you are clever
and you worked hard.
There's no shame in that.
When I first came into banking,
it was all about relationships.
And now it's...
It's all about maths.
Let's just say I'm better
at the relationships bit.
I left everybody I loved
behind in Hungary
just to come here
and earn money.
I think I am just the
same as you and Arabella.
Right?
I, I don't think so.
No.
Well, you're wrong.
Time for bed, I think.
Goodnight, Mr... Roger.
Oh, and thank you for
a lovely evening.
Oops. Night.
Goodnight, Matya.
My god.
To be young and childless.
Have you come straight
from the party?
Sleep is for
lightweights, Roger.
I wouldn't do any flash trading
with a hangover if I were you.
How's Matya?
I didn't see her this morning.
Did she have a nice evening?
Yes. Far as I know.
You don't know...
Like she isn't...
Is she seeing anybody at
the moment, do you know?
Oh, Mark.
Dear me.
I know you're an ambitious young
man and full marks for cheek,
but I'm afraid Matya is
rather out of your league.
Dear me. Dear me.
I don't know why we
all have to be here.
Because last time it was just me
and for two months we never
heard the end of it.
Yeah, this time
we'll overwhelm her
with our love and devotion. She
won't know what's hit her.
That doesn't sound like Ammi.
Hey, you're not allowed to criticise her.
You're her golden boy.
Let's have a bet on
what she says first.
"Gambling is un-Islamic."
That's better. I prefer you
without a sense of humour.
I'll go first. It will be, "Rohinka,
what are you feeding my fatty son?"
"Are you trying to kill him?"
"The flight was a horror."
"Hello." She'll say, "Hello."
Of course she will, clever girl.
Right. She's here.
Daadi!
All here this time.
I can see that.
And nobody minding the till?
That's a lovely dress
you're wearing, Fatima.
Mum let you wear a
dress for once.
And Rohinka, what are
you feeding my son?
He has no self-control, you
must be his self-control.
What are you feeding him?
Or is he stuffing himself with snack food
because he doesn't like what you cook him?
He looks like a golgappa.
And I don't know what
you're laughing about, huh?
Twenty-five years of age
and no sign of a wife.
Come.
Do you want the kitchen
stripping out?
Erm, just make it
modern, you know?
We'll get the kit from IKEA. It'll
be basic, but solid, you know.
Something new. That's
the main thing.
Paint work, neutral.
"Chalky Down" is very popular.
We, uh...
We can't go in
there, I'm afraid.
But, the, uh, bathroom will need
renovating or refitting. It's up to you.
Okay.
If you are having building work,
I can sort out permission.
I know who to talk to at
the council and so on.
Yeah, we might just leave
that to the buyer.
Uh, we just need a rough
quote for tarting it up.
Okay. No problem.
Are you all right to do the
other rooms on your own?
I'll, um, I'll be
in the kitchen.
Sorry.
I'm getting a few people in.
Other quotes.
Rough figures for now. I'll
have more idea when, erm...
I'm looking for a good job.
Erm, but we're looking
to freshen it up a bit
before we put it on the
market, to be honest.
Morning, boss.
Oh. Right.
Thanks.
So you've been at it all night?
More or less.
What you trying to say?
I mean...
I don't know. You got any ideas?
Well, I mean, there's this
wonderful quote by...
It's cold, mate.
Off you Trotsky.
In 2003 I was arrested in Harare,
interrogated and beaten up.
Then I was released.
Then I was arrested
and beaten up again.
They told me I had 72 hours
to leave the country.
So I was smuggled out
by the missionaries.
Quentina. The judge
already knows all this.
It's terrible, but
it's not relevant.
I came to England
on a student visa.
And he will say, "And did you always
intend to illegally outstay the visa?"
And I will say, "Yes."
"I intended to throw myself at
the mercy of the British state."
And he will say, "How have
you been supporting yourself
"since being refused asylum?"
- I will say, "By working."
- "By working illegally."
Yes.
I wanted to give something
back to England.
So instead of collecting my Ł43
a week allowance, I worked.
I paid my way.
I don't understand why your
law would discourage that.
That isn't relevant.
He will ignore that and he
will say that you came here
with the intention of
staying illegally.
And you did so
on the pretext that you were
fleeing from persecution.
But it wasn't a pretext.
Don't contradict him.
It'll piss him off.
He doesn't need to like me.
He does, Quentina.
He really does.
In fact, I'd say that's
your only chance.
Well, that is a problem.
Because there's only one person
I know who thinks I'm likeable.
Quentina?
Quentina? Where are you?
I don't know why you had to drag me all
the way here from Karachi for these.
They just seem like,
um, some foolishness.
I hardly dragged you here, Ammi.
They love it round here. All
that fussing and running around.
It's that great British middle-class
battle cry. "Something must be done."
Especially if it might have
an effect on property prices.
Those are our neighbours and customers
you're talking rubbish about.
I don't know, Ahmed.
This is a rare example of dear
Usman being right about something.
Nobody's going to be marrying him
for his brains, that's for sure.
Will you do me a favour?
Will you ask your mother
to put some sugar
in this for me?
I think she's trying
to poison me.
I think you should come up now.
I'm starting to think this second wave
of crimes is being done by somebody new.
Somebody separate from the
person who posted the cards.
A copycat?
If you like.
But I hope this is reassuring.
We are closing in on the perpetrator.
Make no mistake.
The, uh, the traffic warden.
The African lady.
You thought that she'd done it, but
she wasn't guilty of anything.
Oh, she was guilty of a lot of
things, but not the postal campaign.
So it works like a curse.
I'm sorry?
Erm, the, uh, the postcards.
Uh, they work like
a bad luck charm.
First the traffic
warden, then Mum.
Your Mum? Mrs Howe? Why,
what's happened to her?
She died. Didn't I tell you?
No, I don't think you did.
Last night. Well, early this
morning, to be precise.
You don't want to be
hearing this stuff now.
She was the last of her kind.
She lived here nearly all her adult life.
She got...
She got married when she was 21
and never left. Can you imagine?
Staying in the same place
for over 60 years?
Arms up, please.
Passport, please.
I tried to see a different
lawyer at the Law Centre.
I waited all morning, but then
I had to get back to work.
But she rang me.
She's coming to see you.
Don't rock the boat, Mashinko.
Please.
I know you are trying to help,
but you'll make things worse.
- By standing up for you?
- Yes.
By standing up for me.
Now you listen to me, my love.
Of course.
Let me just get my
pad to take notes.
This isn't going to help me. I
just need you to listen to me.
I am Quentina Mfeski.
BSc, MSc, Political Science,
the University of Zimbabwe.
I know. You told me
you had a degree.
Are you going to let
me finish talking?
I like to listen to
Mokoomba, Beyonce
and I still love Brenda Fassie.
Why are you telling me this now?
Because I want you to
know this about me.
And because when you
think of me, I...
I don't want you to think of
just Quentina the traffic warden
or Quentina the detainee.
Because...
Because I don't want
you to visit me again.
You feel an obligation
because we went on two dates
and I want to release you
from that obligation.
"Obligation"?
You really don't understand
how lonely I was.
I had the church and the
job and nothing else.
And then I had you
and you were kind.
You were kind and lovely.
And I'm here.
Beloved wife of Albert,
proud mother of Mary,
and devoted grandmother
of Graham.
I knew Petunia as a regular
member of our congregation.
But, over the last few days, I feel I
have got to know her a little better.
She moved into 84 Pepys Road over
60 years ago, as a new bride.
And although she saw many
changes over the years,
she remained a well-known and
well-loved member of the community.
Over the last
months of her life,
she received, like all of those on
Pepys Road, a series of postcards
on which the sentence, "We Want
What You Have" was written.
Now this campaign, intended
perhaps to intimidate or amuse,
was met by Petunia with her
usual good humour and stoicism.
But, I think the pranksters
who sent these postcards
were saying more than they knew
when they posted the postcards
through Petunia's door.
Because, a life lived
with patience,
a life lived with fortitude,
a life lived with
humility and good humour,
always a kind word
for the neighbours,
always a kind word for
newcomers from whatever race.
Well. I think it's fair
to say, on reflection,
that we should all want a
little of what Petunia had.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Right. Thank you.
You're the artist, right?
What?
Your grandma had your school
paintings all over her wall.
Right, yeah. Right.
When I went to see her
about the postcards.
I'm the police officer
investigating.
Oh, okay.
How you getting on with that?
Well, it's funny you
should ask me that
because, uh, you've solved a
little mystery for me today.
I'm sorry? I have?
You appear on one of the photographs
of your grandmother's house
at the front door.
I was wondering who you were.
Me? Are you sure?
The latest set, for sure.
When were they taken?
I don't know exactly, but they were
posted on the website this week,
so I'm guessing fairly recently.
So why the sudden escalation?
Your guess is as good
as mine at this point.
But, we will find out.
Don't worry on that score.
I wasn't.
Oh, er, don't worry.
You look after the boys. It does me
good to do this once in a blue moon.
Thank you.
- Matya.
- Yep?
Uh, you do know don't you,
that if you ever wanted
to bring a friend here,
we wouldn't mind?
That's kind. Thank you.
One more.
Friend. Boyfriend. Whatever.
Thank you. I don't have a
boyfriend at the moment.
Right.
The wheels on the bus go round
and round, round and round
Round and round
The wheels on the bus go round
and round, all day long
I hate to interrupt this heart-warming
slash nauseating scene,
but has anyone seen my mobile?
Okay. Here we go.
Bogdan, darling, it's Arabella.
How busy are you at the moment?
Come on, come on. We
don't have all day.
Come on. Hurry up.
Bogdan, darling, five seconds.
Literally five seconds. Come in.
Wait in the dining room.
Matya is coming!
Where are... Oh!
Hello.
Where are you?
Oh, I see you!
You are so mine!
You're it!
This was a game.
I know. I'm here
to see Mrs Yount.
Joshy didn't do a poo today.
I did.
Oh, mi dispiace, Bogdan, I'm so
sorry, I'm racked with guilt.
Listen, come with me. Can I
show you my little thingies?
I wanted to change the white
to one of those Swedish types.
Two sugars, by the way.
Pardon?
When I'm working here, I
like two sugars in my tea.
Like the British builders.
I don't make tea for workmen.
I look after the children.
It was a joke.
Sorry.
So where you from?
The Ukraine? Czech Republic?
Hungary.
Ah, like the song.
What song?
- Budapest.
- I'm from Kecskemet.
There isn't a song about that.
Your turn to guess.
Oh, I don't need to.
Arrogant. Bad with children.
Builder. Polish.
Will you tell Arabella I will
call her with the exact quote?
I'm sure you can
tell her yourself.
If that is not beneath
you as a Pole and a man.
Joshua! Conrad! Wash your
hands for food, darlings!
Come on!
No.
No, no, no.
What?
They all stack up in
order of delivery.
I know how to stack
newspapers, Rohinka.
- Daadijaan.
- Haan?
Here she is, my little gudiya.
Nice sweet tea for Daadijaan.
Hmm?
Are those boys' pyjamas
you're wearing?
You're funny, Daadijaan.
You shouldn't be up so early.
You won't be top of the class
if you don't get enough sleep.
That's what I'm
always telling her.
Well, she doesn't seem to
take much notice of you.
Mmm! Very good, Fatima.
Not perfect, but...
Stay where you are!
Armed police!
On the floor now! Arms behind your head!
Arms behind your head!
Get down!
My wife and kids? Where
are my wife and kids!
What are you doing? What are you
doing, man? Get off! Get off me!
Lay still! Stay where you are!
Show me your hands!
On the floor now!
- Get down on the ground!
- We will not get down.
Will you get down
on the ground, Mum!
You should be ashamed
of yourself.
You. You. Yes, I'm
talking to you.
- Will you just get down, Mum!
- I won't get down.
You will have to
shoot me, young man.
- Get down on the ground!
- Mum, will you just get down!
Is that what you're ready to do?
Are you ready to shoot me
and then go home and tell your
mother this is what you did?
- What are you doing?
- Be quiet!
Give me your hand.
I haven't done anything!
Ripped By mstoll
- Every day now.
Everyone in the road.
Detective Inspector Mill.
Here about the postcards.
It's because we're
all millionaires.
Our houses. You wouldn't find a
doctor down here before. Or a banker.
Thank you, Mark.
No need to over-elaborate
on the terminology,
we all know you're a
clever young man.
There's no reason why this bonus might
not be closer to two million than one.
I buy new, everything top spec.
You know me, Mrs Yount.
My personal guarantee.
But I have met a
wonderful lady here.
If you're looking for the
sender of those postcards,
how about someone who comes here
every morning with a grudge?
If I return, I will be killed.
You do know you're not legally
permitted to work, don't you?
- Ms Kwama Lyons.
- What do you want?
Well, why don't we start with
you telling me your real name?
- It's me. Lqbal Rashid.
- What you doing here?
Hope you don't mind
me using your laptop.
- Who's the artist?
- It's my grandson.
We could perhaps treat the
tumour with chemotherapy.
No.
Don't you think now might be
the right time to sell up?
- It's too late now.
- No it isn't.
Yes it is. It's too late.
I've gone away for a few days...
Turn that off, Conrad.
Give you a glimpse of
what it's like to be me.
You spoilt, lazy,
lame excuse of a man.
Goodness knows what
fresh Alaska awaits.
I'm just hoping my absence might
have made the penny drop,
but I'm not holding my breath.
I am going to have
to go, darling.
There appears to have been
some kind of nuclear war.
Roger!
Roger!
Daddy said bad words,
Joshy did a poo.
And Father Christmas brought
me an Emperor Zurg.
Hello. I'm Matya. Can I
help you with your bag?
Did you bring presents, Mummy?
Ripped By mstoll
- It's Autobots fighting Decepticons.
- Oh, that's lovely, darling.
- There you go.
- An agency?
On Christmas Day? You
must have been keen.
I had just finished my last job.
I have references.
I'm sure you do.
Conrad, Mummy might like
one of the cakes we made.
Ooh, they look lovely, darling.
Maybe later though, yes? Hmm?
I'm just going to go upstairs
and see my grown-up child.
Oh, hi. You're back.
Didn't hear you over the 1990s.
- Nice break?
- Yes, thank you.
You've met Matya?
I've just hired her.
She's, er, my very own
Christmas miracle.
Well, haven't you
been enterprising?
I hope you weren't too
worried about the boys.
Mind you. They're very resilient,
aren't they, children?
Now. Where to begin?
Roger, I really
can't be having...
I think we are looking at a
period of fiscal rectitude.
Fiscal rectitude?
Sounds like some sort of
internal examination.
Roger, you and I both know
your bonus is about to
come bouncing home.
Ah, my bonus. Yes,
now, my bonus,
do you know how much
my bonus is this year?
It's not two million. It's not one million.
It's Ł30,000.
You expect me to
believe that, Roger?
Just grow up.
India, darling. Merry Christmas.
How lovely to hear from you.
No, no skiing's off this
year, wrist-slashing tedium.
Just a little cottage in Minchinhampton.
Hardly a holiday.
Shoes off.
Turn around, please.
Feet up.
And the other.
- See you, mate.
- Bye.
Say, "hello" to Daadi.
Why are you crying, little baby?
Babies do need their sleep, Rohinka.
Night, Ammi.
Shahid, are you there?
I've met a dentist
with three daughters.
- All of them dentists.
- I've got a dentist, thank you, Ammi.
Nice Jewish chap
in Golders Green.
We'll talk some more when I
come to visit next week.
What? Next week?
- What?
- Mum, it's, uh, cold this time of year.
Why don't you try spring, hey?
I think you need me to come and speak to
the police about those abusive postcards
you told me about, Ahmed.
What?
Or will you be leaving
me waiting at Heathrow
at the mercy of
muggers and Africans?
9:00 pm. Terminal 5. Wednesday.
Make sure you find out
from the travel agent.
What?
What?
What did you tell her
about the postcards for?
- I was making conversation.
- Nice one.
What, do you think I like having
her over criticising my business,
my weight, the way I bring up my
kids and my conduct as a Muslim.
She might have a point there.
It's all right for you.
You're under her radar.
The moment I'm married off to some
embarrassed girl you'll be next in line.
Are you going to denounce
arranged marriage?
Not for you, perhaps. Only chance
you've got with those looks.
Hello.
We're going to get the
Internet material taken down
and we are well on our way to
tracing the owners of the blog.
But that's not the same
thing as finding out
who the person or persons
responsible are.
And that's where you come in.
The community. The
eyes and ears.
The vandalism in the street. The graffiti.
I want you all to be vigilant.
We need you to be vigilant.
Any strange behaviour.
Any detail. Any sound.
However insignificant.
Yes? The gentleman there
with the blue jumper.
When you came into our shop,
you mentioned harassment
as one of the likely charges.
That's just something that happens
in their head, though right?
Like, if I feel harassed by
you, that counts as harassment?
Well, perhaps now isn't the
best time for a discussion
on the etymology of the
term, "harassment."
The majority of the people
in this room are here
because they feel upset or distressed
by these things that have happened.
It isn't fair to call it
"something in their heads".
Will there be compensation
of some kind?
It's not really my
area, I'm afraid.
But are you aware if it has had an
effect on the local housing market?
- The purpose of this meeting...
- That traffic warden.
The African lady. She had
nothing to do with it, then?
Er, no.
No. The campaign had nothing to
do with her, as it turns out.
So why'd you arrest her?
I think we may be straying
away from the subject here.
Erm...
I promise you she had nothing
to do with the postcards.
If she was committing criminal
acts in our road then surely...
She was working illegally
in contravention of
her refugee status.
Does that count as
a result for you?
Like it's the League Cup,
but it's still a trophy?
There was footage of my children outside
our house posted on that website.
And that's not something
anybody wants to happen,
but if it's any comfort, it doesn't
seem like your children were targeted.
It looks like a coincidence that
they wandered into the film
while the person or persons
unknown were making it.
A coincidence? Oh, I see.
Well, since by your own admission,
you literally don't have a clue
then I fail to see how your explanation
is even remotely reassuring.
You didn't have to say anything.
"Harassment is in the mind."
What's that even supposed to mean?
I was deconstructing his
imperialist mode of discourse.
Yep. I think that landed.
Look, look, you were
wasting police time.
I just want them to stop some idiot
sending cards and DVDs in the post.
I don't need you
wasting their time.
Did you notice how he called me
"gentleman in the blue jumper,"
to avoid saying "Asian"?
It was hilarious.
It was a waste of time, really.
Were the Kamal family there?
Very nice family. Run the shop.
I didn't recognise
anybody at all.
Not a single soul. Don't
you think that's amazing?
I would have recognised people.
I'm not saying you
wouldn't have, Mum.
The Kamal family for a start.
So you keep saying.
When you think about it, this
is your house, but is it...
Is it your home any more?
I mean it's bricks and mortar when
it comes down to it, isn't it?
This is where I want to die.
What?
Who's talking about that?
You are. Aren't you? Isn't that
where all this is leading.
Let's not tip-toe
round the tulips.
I want to die here, where
I've lived all my life.
And I'm sorry if
that's inconvenient.
Am I talking about that, Mum?
No, I'm not.
I'm thinking about where
you'd be most comfortable.
I can move your bed
downstairs to my dining room.
I've got a downstairs
toilet so...
Well, bully for you.
I'm sorry. That wasn't kind.
Thank you. For all you're doing.
Like what?
You've never been an
easy girl to thank.
Like your dad.
Right well, let's not
go there now, hey?
Mum. What?
What? Stop stressing about her.
I'll come and see Gran.
I'll give you a night off.
Mum, of course I can
look after her.
I've worked in a
hospital for two years.
You make some arrangements.
Go out.
I don't know where. Anywhere.
Non-negotiable.
See you later.
- Families, eh?
- Yeah.
Fuck 'em, hey?
- What did you say?
- Mine. Yours. Just a trick of biology.
You're, you're saying,
fuck my family
Is that what you're saying?
You're disrespecting my family?
This is my Gran we're
talking about.
- Goodfellas, right?
- What?
Joe Pesci. You know?
"Saying I'm funny. How I'm a clown.
I amuse you".
- That's what you're doing isn't it?
- That's you all over, isn't it?
Everything always reminds
you of something else.
You wouldn't know real anger if it
come and bit your bollocks off.
I don't get it. Are
you, are you angry now?
Yeah. Yeah. That was me being angry.
It's a real emotion.
Sound familiar at all? No?
You just don't feel
anything do you?
And until you do, you will
always be my assistant,
secretly thinking that it
should be you in the big chair
and me running around
with the coffees.
I can get angry.
My coffee's cold.
Get it yourself.
I think now you're mistaking
anger with petulance.
Just go and get me a coffee.
Quick.
Don't trouble me, huh? I hope
you have my flight number.
Will I bring my own bedding this time or
have you replaced those terrible sheets?
We have bought new fitted
sheets and a new duvet.
- Nice and warm.
- Not too warm, I hope.
Oh, you're breaking up.
I saw that.
Don't judge me, Shahid.
I would never judge
you, Rohinka.
Well, if you do I
might just point out
that your flat's bigger and
she could stay at yours.
I can't see her sharing a
sofa with Iqbal, can you?
No.
But, it might be good to watch.
Brilliant.
This is brilliant.
- Where will I go?
- Well, there must be someone at the mosque
with a spare room going who
doesn't know what you're like.
That was a joke, by the way.
It can't be helped. It's family.
I'm sorry.
Why would your mum stay here and not
with your brother and the kids?
Because, Iqbal, she
wants to work on me.
Marriage and all that.
I think she's got somebody in mind.
A dentist from Karachi.
It isn't fair.
She has two sisters, also
dentists, if you're interested.
That isn't what I mean.
I know, Iqbal.
But, if you knew Mamji,
she's like a drone, mate.
And you're what the American infidels
will call, "collateral damage".
Morning.
Just these two.
Thank you.
Oh.
Thank you for keeping the evidence.
I'll be in touch.
It's an escalation, isn't it?
It's more serious than before.
It's terrorism almost.
Well, I'm not sure I'd call getting a
dead animal shoved through your door
terrorism exactly, but...
I can't help thinking we're
the wrong kind of victim.
Can you please start taking
this problem more seriously?
I can only keep saying that we
are doing everything we can.
Which we are.
Ah. Hello, erm...
DI Mill.
Well I'll leave you to it.
Mr Yount. Mrs Yount.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
- What did he want?
- We've had a corpse delivered in the post.
An animal of some kind.
Right. Right. Well, why don't you
tell me about it on the way.
We do need to get a move on.
You can't seriously
think I'm still coming?
Completely traumatised.
Oh, Graham.
I didn't mean to disturb you.
Your mother said you'd be here.
Yeah. Mum's gone out.
She's on a large one.
That doesn't sound
much like your mum.
Are you all right?
Stupid question, really.
Just tired.
What you listening to on your
what's-it, your hearing aids?
You wouldn't have
heard of it, Gran.
I wouldn't be so
sure about that.
The builders have their
radios on full blast all day.
You'll be picking up a fair bit of
Polish swear words as well then.
You all right, Gran?
Do you want some water?
All I want is to know
you'll be all right.
I know.
Are you?
Are you all right?
Yeah.
Yeah, I am.
Why should I believe that?
How do I know you're not just saying
that to keep a dying old lady happy?
I'll tell you why.
But don't you go
telling anybody else.
A secret?
I like that.
You know what? I think
it's a terrible idea.
She'll be bored out of her mind.
It'll be a nice change for her.
I've been to those things a thousand
times before, I find them so vulgar.
Matya, on the other
hand, is from Hungary.
The nearest she's probably
come to genuine luxury
is the EasyJet departure lounge.
Exactly. She'll be
out of her depth.
With your colleagues?
Don't be stupid.
She won't have to talk much,
just sit there looking pretty
and pretending to listen
while they go wanking on
about shooting and the
congestion charge.
They'll think she's an escort.
They're bankers. They'll
admire your chutzpah.
If they interrogate you
further, say I'm staying away
as a protest against
your tiny bonus.
They should be having a charity
auction for us, quite frankly.
Wow. You look so much
better in it than I do.
That, Roger, is your cue to say
something flattering to me.
The next lot is a day's
fly-fishing in Wiltshire.
Chalk stream. Complete
with cream tea.
And who will give me Ł500?
- Is all this just for fishing?
- Five hundred...
- From a river?
- Six? Seven hundred?
You wait, it gets a whole
lot more expensive.
Nine.
And it's all for charity.
Well, they are very generous.
No. Just very competitive
and ostentatious.
They haven't got a charitable
bone in their body.
You talk as though you hate it.
Gone. For Ł1,300.
Rog. Rog.
Fuck me. You're a dark horse.
How much did you pay for her?
I'm going to have to
change my escort agency.
If you must know, Arabella's ill.
She's our children's nanny.
So you, uh... Have you bid yet?
I don't think so.
Would you like to?
- I don't have that money.
- No. I do. Go on.
The next lot is a signed
Roger Federer shirt, 2012.
- I'll pay. Go on. Come on.
- Who'll start me?
- No. No.
- Just to see what it feels like.
Come on. You should see
the look on your face.
Eight hundred. Somebody
start me at 800.
- Go on. Go on.
- Eight hundred.
That's it.
That's 800 to the lady
in the green dress.
Who will give me Ł900?
Over there. Yes, you.
One thousand?
- Go on. Again. Again.
- One thousand, five hundred.
Go on.
One thousand, six hundred.
Yes. Come on, one more and we'll get it.
One more. Come on.
- One thousand, seven hundred.
- Go on, go on, go on, go on.
One thousand, eight hundred?
One thousand, eight hundred.
One thousand, eight hundred.
Going once. Going twice.
Gone to the lady in
the green dress.
Thank you.
Oh, my...
- What'd you say?
- Oh, my God...
Not much of a night?
Back this early.
By your standards, perhaps.
God knows how you get up
for work in the morning.
You don't need to
worry about me.
Good. 'Cause I haven't
got any worry left.
Thanks for looking
after her for tonight.
It was nice to see her.
- We had a nice chat, you know.
- No, I don't know.
She only ever talks to me if
she wants to go to the toilet.
It was mainly me, all right?
Don't patronise me. And stop
talking in that accent.
You weren't brought
up to talk like that.
How would you know?
You weren't even there.
Well, your Gran wouldn't like it.
How about that.
Does that count?
It's not a competition.
"Palliative care in the
community," they call it.
- What?
- What we're doing now.
Arguing while Mum dies.
They give it a title so that it
sounds like they're doing something.
But, they're not.
They gave it a title. That
is them doing something.
Can't you just agree
with me that it's tough?
What is it all for? In the end?
Look at this place. A
lifetime of clutter.
- Is that all there is?
- There's nothing wrong with this place.
Oh, for god's sake! I'm not saying
that there's anything wrong with it!
Twenty Silk Cut, please.
Of course.
How is your mother?
How is Mrs Howe?
Erm, she's, um...
Oh, erm, do you do decorating?
Yes. From time to time.
I know that you're a builder.
I'm from number 84.
Do you do painting, papering,
refurbishment, that kind of thing?
When do you want to start doing?
Well, the sooner the better.
As soon as possible.
Thank you. Thanks.
Well, now I feel like
I've corrupted you.
Why are you saying that?
Well, because I encouraged you to
bid Ł2,000 for a sweaty T-shirt.
A sweaty T-shirt worn by
Roger Federer at Wimbledon.
There is a difference.
I think I'll have to put it by my bed
so I can see it before I go to sleep.
Well, of course.
Er, don't, don't do that.
You're still on your night out.
Please. Don't do that now.
Okay.
It's odd, but I've always had a
lot of time for Roger Federer.
Not least because he's the
only cool Roger in the world.
Apart from Roger Moore, that is.
I'm sure he's very
much before your time.
Well.
At least now you'll be able to tell
your friends in Hungary, it's true.
The English do have
more money than sense.
Why are you always apologising
for what you've got?
Because I'm not
sure how I got it.
Because you are clever
and you worked hard.
There's no shame in that.
When I first came into banking,
it was all about relationships.
And now it's...
It's all about maths.
Let's just say I'm better
at the relationships bit.
I left everybody I loved
behind in Hungary
just to come here
and earn money.
I think I am just the
same as you and Arabella.
Right?
I, I don't think so.
No.
Well, you're wrong.
Time for bed, I think.
Goodnight, Mr... Roger.
Oh, and thank you for
a lovely evening.
Oops. Night.
Goodnight, Matya.
My god.
To be young and childless.
Have you come straight
from the party?
Sleep is for
lightweights, Roger.
I wouldn't do any flash trading
with a hangover if I were you.
How's Matya?
I didn't see her this morning.
Did she have a nice evening?
Yes. Far as I know.
You don't know...
Like she isn't...
Is she seeing anybody at
the moment, do you know?
Oh, Mark.
Dear me.
I know you're an ambitious young
man and full marks for cheek,
but I'm afraid Matya is
rather out of your league.
Dear me. Dear me.
I don't know why we
all have to be here.
Because last time it was just me
and for two months we never
heard the end of it.
Yeah, this time
we'll overwhelm her
with our love and devotion. She
won't know what's hit her.
That doesn't sound like Ammi.
Hey, you're not allowed to criticise her.
You're her golden boy.
Let's have a bet on
what she says first.
"Gambling is un-Islamic."
That's better. I prefer you
without a sense of humour.
I'll go first. It will be, "Rohinka,
what are you feeding my fatty son?"
"Are you trying to kill him?"
"The flight was a horror."
"Hello." She'll say, "Hello."
Of course she will, clever girl.
Right. She's here.
Daadi!
All here this time.
I can see that.
And nobody minding the till?
That's a lovely dress
you're wearing, Fatima.
Mum let you wear a
dress for once.
And Rohinka, what are
you feeding my son?
He has no self-control, you
must be his self-control.
What are you feeding him?
Or is he stuffing himself with snack food
because he doesn't like what you cook him?
He looks like a golgappa.
And I don't know what
you're laughing about, huh?
Twenty-five years of age
and no sign of a wife.
Come.
Do you want the kitchen
stripping out?
Erm, just make it
modern, you know?
We'll get the kit from IKEA. It'll
be basic, but solid, you know.
Something new. That's
the main thing.
Paint work, neutral.
"Chalky Down" is very popular.
We, uh...
We can't go in
there, I'm afraid.
But, the, uh, bathroom will need
renovating or refitting. It's up to you.
Okay.
If you are having building work,
I can sort out permission.
I know who to talk to at
the council and so on.
Yeah, we might just leave
that to the buyer.
Uh, we just need a rough
quote for tarting it up.
Okay. No problem.
Are you all right to do the
other rooms on your own?
I'll, um, I'll be
in the kitchen.
Sorry.
I'm getting a few people in.
Other quotes.
Rough figures for now. I'll
have more idea when, erm...
I'm looking for a good job.
Erm, but we're looking
to freshen it up a bit
before we put it on the
market, to be honest.
Morning, boss.
Oh. Right.
Thanks.
So you've been at it all night?
More or less.
What you trying to say?
I mean...
I don't know. You got any ideas?
Well, I mean, there's this
wonderful quote by...
It's cold, mate.
Off you Trotsky.
In 2003 I was arrested in Harare,
interrogated and beaten up.
Then I was released.
Then I was arrested
and beaten up again.
They told me I had 72 hours
to leave the country.
So I was smuggled out
by the missionaries.
Quentina. The judge
already knows all this.
It's terrible, but
it's not relevant.
I came to England
on a student visa.
And he will say, "And did you always
intend to illegally outstay the visa?"
And I will say, "Yes."
"I intended to throw myself at
the mercy of the British state."
And he will say, "How have
you been supporting yourself
"since being refused asylum?"
- I will say, "By working."
- "By working illegally."
Yes.
I wanted to give something
back to England.
So instead of collecting my Ł43
a week allowance, I worked.
I paid my way.
I don't understand why your
law would discourage that.
That isn't relevant.
He will ignore that and he
will say that you came here
with the intention of
staying illegally.
And you did so
on the pretext that you were
fleeing from persecution.
But it wasn't a pretext.
Don't contradict him.
It'll piss him off.
He doesn't need to like me.
He does, Quentina.
He really does.
In fact, I'd say that's
your only chance.
Well, that is a problem.
Because there's only one person
I know who thinks I'm likeable.
Quentina?
Quentina? Where are you?
I don't know why you had to drag me all
the way here from Karachi for these.
They just seem like,
um, some foolishness.
I hardly dragged you here, Ammi.
They love it round here. All
that fussing and running around.
It's that great British middle-class
battle cry. "Something must be done."
Especially if it might have
an effect on property prices.
Those are our neighbours and customers
you're talking rubbish about.
I don't know, Ahmed.
This is a rare example of dear
Usman being right about something.
Nobody's going to be marrying him
for his brains, that's for sure.
Will you do me a favour?
Will you ask your mother
to put some sugar
in this for me?
I think she's trying
to poison me.
I think you should come up now.
I'm starting to think this second wave
of crimes is being done by somebody new.
Somebody separate from the
person who posted the cards.
A copycat?
If you like.
But I hope this is reassuring.
We are closing in on the perpetrator.
Make no mistake.
The, uh, the traffic warden.
The African lady.
You thought that she'd done it, but
she wasn't guilty of anything.
Oh, she was guilty of a lot of
things, but not the postal campaign.
So it works like a curse.
I'm sorry?
Erm, the, uh, the postcards.
Uh, they work like
a bad luck charm.
First the traffic
warden, then Mum.
Your Mum? Mrs Howe? Why,
what's happened to her?
She died. Didn't I tell you?
No, I don't think you did.
Last night. Well, early this
morning, to be precise.
You don't want to be
hearing this stuff now.
She was the last of her kind.
She lived here nearly all her adult life.
She got...
She got married when she was 21
and never left. Can you imagine?
Staying in the same place
for over 60 years?
Arms up, please.
Passport, please.
I tried to see a different
lawyer at the Law Centre.
I waited all morning, but then
I had to get back to work.
But she rang me.
She's coming to see you.
Don't rock the boat, Mashinko.
Please.
I know you are trying to help,
but you'll make things worse.
- By standing up for you?
- Yes.
By standing up for me.
Now you listen to me, my love.
Of course.
Let me just get my
pad to take notes.
This isn't going to help me. I
just need you to listen to me.
I am Quentina Mfeski.
BSc, MSc, Political Science,
the University of Zimbabwe.
I know. You told me
you had a degree.
Are you going to let
me finish talking?
I like to listen to
Mokoomba, Beyonce
and I still love Brenda Fassie.
Why are you telling me this now?
Because I want you to
know this about me.
And because when you
think of me, I...
I don't want you to think of
just Quentina the traffic warden
or Quentina the detainee.
Because...
Because I don't want
you to visit me again.
You feel an obligation
because we went on two dates
and I want to release you
from that obligation.
"Obligation"?
You really don't understand
how lonely I was.
I had the church and the
job and nothing else.
And then I had you
and you were kind.
You were kind and lovely.
And I'm here.
Beloved wife of Albert,
proud mother of Mary,
and devoted grandmother
of Graham.
I knew Petunia as a regular
member of our congregation.
But, over the last few days, I feel I
have got to know her a little better.
She moved into 84 Pepys Road over
60 years ago, as a new bride.
And although she saw many
changes over the years,
she remained a well-known and
well-loved member of the community.
Over the last
months of her life,
she received, like all of those on
Pepys Road, a series of postcards
on which the sentence, "We Want
What You Have" was written.
Now this campaign, intended
perhaps to intimidate or amuse,
was met by Petunia with her
usual good humour and stoicism.
But, I think the pranksters
who sent these postcards
were saying more than they knew
when they posted the postcards
through Petunia's door.
Because, a life lived
with patience,
a life lived with fortitude,
a life lived with
humility and good humour,
always a kind word
for the neighbours,
always a kind word for
newcomers from whatever race.
Well. I think it's fair
to say, on reflection,
that we should all want a
little of what Petunia had.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Right. Thank you.
You're the artist, right?
What?
Your grandma had your school
paintings all over her wall.
Right, yeah. Right.
When I went to see her
about the postcards.
I'm the police officer
investigating.
Oh, okay.
How you getting on with that?
Well, it's funny you
should ask me that
because, uh, you've solved a
little mystery for me today.
I'm sorry? I have?
You appear on one of the photographs
of your grandmother's house
at the front door.
I was wondering who you were.
Me? Are you sure?
The latest set, for sure.
When were they taken?
I don't know exactly, but they were
posted on the website this week,
so I'm guessing fairly recently.
So why the sudden escalation?
Your guess is as good
as mine at this point.
But, we will find out.
Don't worry on that score.
I wasn't.
Oh, er, don't worry.
You look after the boys. It does me
good to do this once in a blue moon.
Thank you.
- Matya.
- Yep?
Uh, you do know don't you,
that if you ever wanted
to bring a friend here,
we wouldn't mind?
That's kind. Thank you.
One more.
Friend. Boyfriend. Whatever.
Thank you. I don't have a
boyfriend at the moment.
Right.
The wheels on the bus go round
and round, round and round
Round and round
The wheels on the bus go round
and round, all day long
I hate to interrupt this heart-warming
slash nauseating scene,
but has anyone seen my mobile?
Okay. Here we go.
Bogdan, darling, it's Arabella.
How busy are you at the moment?
Come on, come on. We
don't have all day.
Come on. Hurry up.
Bogdan, darling, five seconds.
Literally five seconds. Come in.
Wait in the dining room.
Matya is coming!
Where are... Oh!
Hello.
Where are you?
Oh, I see you!
You are so mine!
You're it!
This was a game.
I know. I'm here
to see Mrs Yount.
Joshy didn't do a poo today.
I did.
Oh, mi dispiace, Bogdan, I'm so
sorry, I'm racked with guilt.
Listen, come with me. Can I
show you my little thingies?
I wanted to change the white
to one of those Swedish types.
Two sugars, by the way.
Pardon?
When I'm working here, I
like two sugars in my tea.
Like the British builders.
I don't make tea for workmen.
I look after the children.
It was a joke.
Sorry.
So where you from?
The Ukraine? Czech Republic?
Hungary.
Ah, like the song.
What song?
- Budapest.
- I'm from Kecskemet.
There isn't a song about that.
Your turn to guess.
Oh, I don't need to.
Arrogant. Bad with children.
Builder. Polish.
Will you tell Arabella I will
call her with the exact quote?
I'm sure you can
tell her yourself.
If that is not beneath
you as a Pole and a man.
Joshua! Conrad! Wash your
hands for food, darlings!
Come on!
No.
No, no, no.
What?
They all stack up in
order of delivery.
I know how to stack
newspapers, Rohinka.
- Daadijaan.
- Haan?
Here she is, my little gudiya.
Nice sweet tea for Daadijaan.
Hmm?
Are those boys' pyjamas
you're wearing?
You're funny, Daadijaan.
You shouldn't be up so early.
You won't be top of the class
if you don't get enough sleep.
That's what I'm
always telling her.
Well, she doesn't seem to
take much notice of you.
Mmm! Very good, Fatima.
Not perfect, but...
Stay where you are!
Armed police!
On the floor now! Arms behind your head!
Arms behind your head!
Get down!
My wife and kids? Where
are my wife and kids!
What are you doing? What are you
doing, man? Get off! Get off me!
Lay still! Stay where you are!
Show me your hands!
On the floor now!
- Get down on the ground!
- We will not get down.
Will you get down
on the ground, Mum!
You should be ashamed
of yourself.
You. You. Yes, I'm
talking to you.
- Will you just get down, Mum!
- I won't get down.
You will have to
shoot me, young man.
- Get down on the ground!
- Mum, will you just get down!
Is that what you're ready to do?
Are you ready to shoot me
and then go home and tell your
mother this is what you did?
- What are you doing?
- Be quiet!
Give me your hand.
I haven't done anything!
Ripped By mstoll