The Hour (2011–2012): Season 2, Episode 1 - Episode #2.1 - full transcript

Oh, God.

If it all gets really too much,
I say we take the next train to Morocco.

Apparently it's the most
marvellous place to get lost.

Any sign of Hector?

Mmm. No.

Eyes on the prize, sweetheart.

- Sissy, try Mr Madden at his club again!
- Yes, Miss Rowley.

Keep calling.

Ten minutes, ladies and gentlemen,
we have a show starting

and a new head of news to impress.

Mr Wengrow. Change your shirt.
Wear a tie. You might be needed.



- Right. Right. Really?
- Slim pickings.

Uh, Mr Brown?

It's time to...

Defer no time,
delays have dangerous ends.

- Has Mr Madden been found?
- Any moment.

Cutting it fine.

Mr Brown, as you may be aware,
the last nine months have been

an exercise in maintaining the direction
and morale of The Hour.

Will do.

- Excuse me, Mr Madden, would you mind?
- Of course.

It's Dorothy.

Uncovered are snapping at your heels?

And despite ITV's attempts to colonise
many aspects of the show,

The Hour is still
exemplary in its field.



Imitation is the highest
form of flattery.

- Exactly.
- Except it's better.

- I'm sorry?
- Uncovered is better.

Hold on. Going down?

- It's better?
- Yeah.

Well, how, exactly?

Tighter. Newer. Fresher.

And also, I presume,
with a presenter who's on time.

Very good, Mr Wengrow.
Loosen your tie. And smile.

I will castrate Hector
if he's late again.

Final checks, please.

Ladies and gentlemen,
final checks, please.

Hello.

- Good evening.
- Hello.

- You have a replacement?
- Yes.

- On the floor?
- Just in case. Mr Wengrow.

A man has no more character than
he can command in a time of crisis.

Okay, camera one?

Miss Rowley, I do not wish
to state the obvious

but you have no show
if you have no presenter.

Mr Wengrow, stand by.

Keep the change.

We have a show and
we have a running order,

we have cameras, we have...

- Good evening, Suzy.
- Good evening, Mr Madden.

Right, cue grams.

Camera two, stand by, please.

Thank you, Dora.

Breathe, Mr Wengrow.

Thank you, Betsy.

Counting down, Miss Cooper.

- Fade grams.
- Ah, he's here.

And we are saved.

Five...

- Four...
- Hit it, ladies and gentlemen.

Let's give the new boy
something to shout about.

- One...
- What a pity, Mr Wengrow.

And you look so smart in your suit.

Good evening and welcome to The Hour.

Sputnik 2.

Is Britain facing
a growing nuclear threat

with every Soviet advancement?

What does this latest development
in the Russian satellite programme

mean for Britain and indeed,

for the arms race as a whole?

Also on tonight's programme,

spend, spend, spend,
says the Chancellor.

We've never had it so good.

But what is the long-term forecast
for boomtime?

And last but not least,

a little bit of Hollywood touches down
amidst the glitz and glamour of Soho.

The toast of London Town,
Mario Lanza, has just arrived.

But now back to Sputnik 2,
who has a very special passenger.

A three-year old bitch,
newly nicknamed Laika,

who has been found on
the streets of Moscow,

is now orbiting the Earth at...

Hilton Hair Lightener
brings exciting hair radiance

with the shade lighter look.

See the glamour Hilton gives.

Do join us next week
for more breaking news

from home and abroad.

Thank you and goodnight.

And we're clear.
Thank you, ladies and gentleman.

He dropped that second paragraph.

The main points were, I think,
still well made.

I said if he cuts my work again,
I will not play nice any more.

What did you think?

Hmm.

- Right.
- It was a good cut.

I told you last week
and I'll say it again.

It is not yours to tamper with.

Thank you, darling, I knew you'd agree.

One always feels a tiny victory
when that woman's riled.

Oh, you're deplorable.

Late. Late. Late.

- Where the hell have you been?
- Ah, Mr Brown.

Sorry I was not here
to greet you earlier.

I'm delighted to have you on the team.
Hope we pass muster.

The light, too bright on your face.

Bounces around, amplifies the cheeks.

Apart from that...

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

9:00 a.m. Tomorrow morning.
Editorial conference.

Debrief.

Wunderbar!

Mr Madden's timekeeping
may not be entirely orthodox.

We're in agreement.

But that doesn't take away
from the brilliance of his delivery.

Maintaining the quality of
a 60-minute programme

when I am pursuing
most of the stories myself

and writing the copy...

I cannot also be the head of news
with Mr Fendley in prison

and one of my top journalists gone.

Ah yes, Mr Lyon.

Um, was dismissed.

Whilst you fought to stay.

Why would you say Uncovered is better?

It's just newer, people like what's new.

Why would you say that?

Competition is good.

Yes, it is. Competition is good.

When I was a girl, I was very compet...

Um, badges, medals.
High jump was my thing.

But without resources,
we may compete but we can't win.

Lix is brilliant.

And Mr Wengrow...

Mr Wengrow is, is... coming along fine.

But it's my right-hand man...

But it's... It's my right hand man
that I, that I miss.

- There is a certain something.
- Yes.

- Lacking.
- Yes.

Edge. Bite.

The prick of the hair
on the back of the neck.

Yes, I thought you might say that.

The tingle from the top of the head
to the balls of the feet.

When one watches The Hour
it's almost...

Too smooth, too slick.

The last time I watched this programme,
and admittedly that was some time ago,

then, then one could feel the tingle,

hear the tick.

Let me hear your tick, Miss Rowley.

My tick?

Editorial conference at 9:00 a.m.
I look forward to it.

He... He fiddles with things.

What, what is he?
What have they sent us?

I'm going to go home
and drink a bottle of vodka

and sleep and not wake up.
Yes. Brilliant.

The thing is, darling,

the powers that be must have
some method to their madness.

Otherwise, the whole Paris bureau
who declared him

the best chief they ever had
got it completely wrong.

Acapulco.

Ridiculous boy.

Nice shoes. Are they date shoes?

Engagement party. Pity invite.

- But you, on the other hand...
- Not biting.

When Hector inquired
how well I knew Mr Brown,

I said not at all.

Please don't make me lie to you as well.

Good night, thank you.

Mr Madden.

Thank you, sir. Have a good evening.

Under a bush or fence

Dining alone tonight, Mr Madden?

- Who wants to help me burn my candle
- Uh, no. Not tonight.

At both ends

Enjoy your evening.

It's possible it may not last a night

But while it burns,
what a wonderful light...

Good evening.

- Evening, Mr Madden.
- Hello.

- Mr Madden. Good evening.
- Good evening.

Wonderful show this evening.
We never miss it.

The doggy. So sweet.

Thank you.

Yes. Very droll.

Sending a bitch into space!

- Yes. They're calmer, apparently.
- Hmm.

How's your head of news settling in?

What's it to you?

Don't forget who saved The Hour, Hector.

If it was up to the rest
of them at Westminster,

you would be out on your ear
after they pulled the plug.

- Darling, thank you very much.
- Thank you.

One can't have a traitor at the BBC.

Mr Lyon took the rap,
you remained at the helm,

Miss Rowley kept her job and...

MI6 got their man.

It was still a lie.

A lie has no legs.

A scandal, now, that has wings.

Mr Madden, would you mind?
It's just one for the album.

- Of course.
- Thank you.

- Salute!
- Salute!

Grazie.

- Excuse me.
- Yes.

Bloody wop!

We're all immigrants, Angus.

Whisky. No ice.

- So what is your name?
- Miss Delaine.

Kiki Delaine. I'm an actress.

Oh, a performer! I'm one of those.

From this day, Britain will
reign beside America and Russia

as a major nuclear power.

Britain is no longer
dependent on anyone

for this ultimate deterrent.

Everyone who will be on deck puts on...

Ladies and gentlemen.

If we cannot debate that
which troubles our society

and more importantly
troubles our government,

then we cannot, in all honesty,
call ourselves a democracy.

If we cannot question our leaders

as they embark...

Commander Stern.

These are all you found?

Back room's stuffed with them.

Shut it down and board it up.

- Straight away.
- Yes, sir.

Let's go!

Come on!

- You try the back, I'll try the cellar.
- Yes, sir.

Come on.

- Commander Stern.
- Captain Madden.

Hoped I might see you here.

Hello.

Miss Delaine, may I introduce
Commander Stern,

soon to be Deputy Commissioner.

Stern is fine.

I hear it's only a matter of time.

Now, be gentle with him.
He is appallingly shy.

So how are our London streets?

Filled with the usual stench
of decay and decline

but, uh, we do our best.

Indeed.

Um, would you be free tomorrow?

Say, in the afternoon?

I've got something on that story
you might be working on.

Commander Stern,
your boys have been busy tonight.

Yes, we try.

Aren't you staying, Commander?

- It's a bit noisy for me.
- Mmm.

Come with me.

You're a fine chap, Laurie, but by God,
your job made you boring.

You go home and sleep tight.
I'm going to enjoy my evening.

Do you know, this man saved my life.

Did he really?

Did you see service, Mr McCain?

I did. I did.

Broadcast service, wasn't it, Angus?
In leafiest Surrey?

Hope to see you again, Commander.

Yes, I'm sure you will.

Good night, everyone.

Mr Madden, the champagne
is from the two gentlemen

at the table in the corner.

Oh, it's the chaps from ITV.

I must say, I've been very
impressed with their coverage lately.

Don't you agree?

They've got their eye on you.

Best call it a night.

I was just starting to enjoy myself.

Ah. Uh, couple of chaps...

Going to have a drink at their suite.

First rule with temptation,
yield to it slowly.

So much more satisfying in the end.

Won't you join us, Miss Delaine?

I'll just get my fur.

Hector?

What the hell, why not?

Smother with scrambled egg
mixed with curry powder.

Top with sweet pickle and cover.

It's delicious.

When it's time to have a bite,
have the sandwich

Morning, noon and night,
have the sandwich

Making a break for it already?

Um, she's the friend of
a very distant cousin.

- I won't be missed.
- Hmm.

But it was perfectly marvellous party
and you didn't hear me say otherwise.

- Have a nice evening.
- You missed a trick.

With the Macmillan story.

Sorry?

Tonight, they're overstretched
in health and defence.

Rumour has it,
Macmillan has seen the civil estimates

and is urging Ministers
to slash where they can.

Afan of The Hour.

Actually, I prefer Uncovered.

But that's news with advertisements.

- It doesn't count.
- Really?

You try running stories with a kick
whilst levelling out those

that cause too much of a ruckus.

That must be exhausting, having to
circumnavigate the truth all the time.

I knew someone and he believed
that the truth...

Is something you don't
have to lie about?

Exactly. Yes.

- Do you want to get a drink?
- Yes, what would you like?

No. Not here.

Sorry. I've got somebody
waiting for me at home.

Naturally.

Thanks for the tip.

To Leslie Grade,
who represents me in Europe

or Mr Val Parnell or just anyone at all,

it took a long time, but I just
want to talk to you, the English people.

It took so much time,
may I say, hello! That's all.

Now an aria from the opera Tosca.

How did you get in?

So, ladies and gentleman,

as it is 9:00 and in the
absence of your producer, I shall begin.

Though I appreciate you are
only a year into this programme,

I assume 9:00 is the
start of our working day.

In fact, the start of a whole new week.

So first, all good art dies
after a revolution.

It's only when one is
fighting to overthrow

any kind of oppression
that real work, good work thrives.

So in that spirit... Miss Storm.

Windscale enquiry.
The report is out today.

It doesn't entirely instil confidence
when there's a fire in the reactor

and it isn't put out for days

but the wider issue is
the implications for Britain

and its position
in the nuclear arms race.

The Soviets have stolen
a march on everyone with Sputnik 2

and Eisenhower is
cowering in the corner.

You haven't fallen for that?

Nonsense.

In every American there is
an incorrigible air of innocence,

which in fact conceals
a diabolical cunning.

The Americans knew this was coming.

What's a race if you can't be beat?

But maybe item two.

Mr Wengrow, home desk,
what have you got?

They suggest if you have no time
before you see the flash of the bomb,

move to the nearest doorway,
avoiding flying glass.

It's blatant scaremongering
designed to cause nightmares,

while we are left unquestioning
and with no opinion

other than the one they need,

which is "Hell yes,
let's arm ourselves to the hilt."

How can we support the Chancellor

when he is increasingly spending
public funds on nuclear weapons...

While stirring fear
in the British public

when the funding of public services
is compromised?

Exemplary, Moneypenny, as ever.

- Mr Lyon! Can't believe you're here.
- Hello, Sissy.

Interesting angle.

However, in keeping pace
with our rivals,

we cannot ignore
today's press conference,

so I suggest keeping focus
on the issues in hand,

public paranoia and general fascination
with the nuclear arms race.

Yes, it is Mr Lyon.

And I hope you'll all
welcome him back to The Hour.

I've thought long and hard as to how
he might fit back into the team.

Last night confirmed that
Mr Madden needs back-up.

And Mr Lyon is the obvious swing man
to Mr Madden's trapeze.

Mr Lyon will be
co-hosting the programme.

Miss Rowley, a word, if you please.

- No way, congratulations!
- It's true.

Are you completely insane?

Mr Lyon was one of the conditions
of my joining this team.

You knew. You knew last night.

A new co-host?

Without even consulting me?

And now you announce it
in front of my whole team?

Do you... Do you see how that
undermines me?

Everything that I have done here
in the last nine months

and you have made me look ridiculous!

Hold your fire, Miss Rowley.

What fire?

I assumed that this would be
welcome news.

Well, it is, I mean... No.

Have you even interviewed him
for the post?

In Paris he was
surprisingly persuasive,

certain that his skills had been missed.

Paris!

A couple of months' secondment
to the bureau.

We caught him on his travels.

I believe a long stint in America,
then Paris.

But he was clearly eager to come back.

- Hector...
- Will be fired if he opposes.

A sign of celebrity is that his name
is often worth more than his services.

I presume it is not his wife
who is keeping him this late.

Sorry. Sorry.

- Let's go up to my office.
- No.

I've only got five minutes.

Made the front page again.

Not now. Not now. Not now.

These are the minutes of
a meeting that took place

when the crime figures first came in.

In that meeting I raised my concerns

that policing is being
woefully under-resourced.

My fear is that the filth and depravity
I see on the streets every day

is not simply being ignored,
it's being denied.

These figures are only half
of what we see.

You might find the Home Office
Minister's comments... interesting.

You deserve another medal for this.

It's the war at home I'm worried about.

Hmm!

You know, I worry about you
sometimes, Hector.

Everybody wants a piece of you nowadays.

You should be more discerning.

Trust in those who care.

Los Angeles. Wow!

Then before that, Mexico.

Calm down, dear boy.

Then across to New York and I wrote
for The Village Voice for a few months.

Amazing. Inspirational, Mr Lyon.

Aren't you, sweetheart?

Ladies and gentlemen,
the working day has started!

I want that all again,
but this time with whisky.

Welcome back, beautiful boy.

I'll just move my stuff.

No rush.

You've rearranged.

Plants?

How very unlike you.

Yes. Plants.

You had that cactus. You hated it.

- You hate plants.
- Not now.

I even enjoy the cinema alone.

A lot less fidgeting and you don't get
the annoying commentary on the bus home.

What did you write?

Interesting stuff on Eisenhower.
Right in the aftermath of McCarthy.

- Really?
- Mmm.

Bit 1953.

It's usual to say welcome back.

- Or some other superlative.
- You left.

And yet you stayed.

And you could have told me
you were coming back.

It wouldn't fit on a postcard.

Paris? Paris is practically here.

Big pond of sea between here and...

Did you grow bored
with trying to find yourself?

Yes, actually.

I still miss your father.

Thank you.

I wrote you a letter.

From San Diego.

And then another one from New York.

You didn't write back.

Is it a good read?

Uh, it's rubbish.

Doesn't even tell you
what happens in the end.

Um, and the other stuff...

Um, this might be something.

30% rise in crime and vice
in the last year...

Holy cow! It's Sigmund Freud.

Or Moses.

It seemed like a good idea on the
other side of the Atlantic.

Where the hell have you been?

- This is unacceptable.
- It is.

- Please don't be angry.
- Sissy, coffee.

Did you have a marvellous time?

I did. As did you, by the smell of it.

You missed the flowers and
moving welcoming speech.

How the devil
did you worm your way back in?

Mr Brown's appointment.

Jolly good.

We've lacked a bit of zip around here!

As a new co-host.

You didn't know.

No. No! No.

You've been late for work every day
for the last six months.

Smelling cheap. Mr Brown is insistent.

You're splitting apart
at the seams, Hector.

If I see one more picture of you

splashed across the
front page of a tabloid,

unless it's for picking up the Nobel
Prize or Journalist of the Year,

then you are out.

And that is not my decision.
We have a new head of news.

It's out of my hands,

but it is the one thing that
Mr Brown and I agree on.

How can we be the serious face of news

when you're pressed up against
so much mink and cigar smoke?

It looks like you're in a harem.

You're jealous.

No.

The word is "popular".

For what? Because it's certainly
not for presenting the news.

That's not what everyone thinks.

Good God.

ITV? Which programme?

- Uncovered? Oh, I bet it's Uncovered.
- The perks are good.

A car with chauffeur.

Oh, please. You'll be hosting Sunday
Night at the London Palladium next.

- You know you'd miss me if I left.
- Ha.

Or maybe you're not interested in
what I have to offer?

Thought it might spur on your
Soho crime story.

My God. He finally coughed up.

Shh! I can't divulge my sources.

Page two, second paragraph.

See who the minister is?

Dynamite.

Speaking at the civil defence
press conference?

- I'm coming.
- Me, too.

- It's my bloody story.
- Then how do you plan to use it?

Ask for a one-to-one,
post-press conference.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Ah good, working as a team.

Mr Brown, I want a word.

Busy now. My office, 4:00.

I've got one of them. Downstairs flat.

- It's empty if you want it.
- Really?

- It's for Sey.
- The doctor?

He's been thrown out three times now.
Rent's doubled twice.

He's threatening to return to Nigeria.

£1.3 a week.

- It's a bit scruffy...
- Really?

Wouldn't he be happier back home?

Oh, don't be silly. He is home.

Still...

Desperation never succeeds, Isaac.

Really? So what's your method?

What can I say?

I've obviously been missed.

Whilst there is continued threat,

there is also positive action.

Every home in Britain may sleep
a little safer tonight,

confident in the knowledge that if,
in the event of a nuclear attack,

we find ourselves facing the worst,

the British public will be protected.

- Thank you.
- Thank you. Lovely.

The Minister will be
taking questions now.

- So, shall we start with...
- Now. Get up and do it now.

- Now?
- Not yet. Not now.

Over there.

Mr Kendall. Uncovered. ITV.

Muffed it.

Thank you, Mr McCain.

Minister, one million
of these defence manuals

I understand have been printed.

But this is not even a fifth
of what would be needed

if every home were to have one.

Do you intend to increase circulation?

Our commitment is to ensure
the safety of the public

in the light of this
very real nuclear threat.

- Now.
- Thank you, Minister.

Yes. All right, now.

My contact, my question.

Oh, bloody hell, Hector.

Frederick Lyon, The Hour.

Minister, may I ask at what cost
to the general public?

I don't have the figures exactly.

Does the 30% increase in crime

not prove that the greater threat
is at home?

We're not here to discuss
crime today, Mr Lyon.

If you haven't noticed,
this is in fact focusing on

civil defence and the nuclear threat.

One hundred and seventy-six murders
in the past year.

That's 37 more than the year before.

A surge in violent crime
in areas of London,

particularly in Soho and the West End.

And concerns raised by
leading members of Scotland Yard

that the London force
is woefully understaffed.

Is your government taking
crime seriously?

Absolutely. Public safety
is of primary concern.

We are working hard with
Scotland Yard to attempt to

tackle this rise in criminality.

Really? I have in my hand
the minutes from a recent meeting

to discuss the budgetary pressures
on the Metropolitan Police.

When asked why you were
cutting Scotland Yard's budget

and yet increasing
Defence's tenfold, you replied,

"There will always be crime,
but when faced with total annihilation,

"there is no need to waste our resources
on the odd body here and there."

"We need to put our money

"slap bang in the face of the Soviets
and the nuclear threat."

Murder victim only of mild concern.

I'm sure that's very comforting
to your voters.

Any comment that I have made...

- Thank you. Perhaps another question.
- Is it not the truth

that you are scaremongering the public
into supporting the increase

in defence expenditure at a cost
to their own safety?

- Any comment...
- Thank you very much.

Thank you, Minister.

Welcome back.

Miss Rowley?

Deceitful. Conniving. Ubiquitous.

And yet still worthy of
asking for a drink.

Had I known that
you worked for Uncovered...

Congratulations, The Hour has
just broken quite a story.

I'm sure Uncovered are
already writing it up.

Every broadsheet and broadcaster
will do just that,

but no one can deny its source.

Perhaps I didn't make
our position clear.

If you try to steal
Mr Madden from The Hour,

- I will personally hunt you down...
- I look forward to it.

Mr Lyon. A man with nerve,

challenging a minister.
They've executed men for less.

Mr Madden, you have some competition.

Mr Lyon is The Hour's new co-host.

- Interesting.
- Isn't it?

I'd kill to know
where you acquired that quote.

I was given it in
the strictest confidence.

I'm not in the habit of
divulging my sources.

Miss Rowley, Mr Lyon.

- Nice chap.
- It's deceptive.

Ah. Interested to know
where you got those minutes.

No one is to be trusted
in Westminster, Angus. You know that.

Bit late for breakfast.

When you're away,
you crave the home comforts.

Then, when you return,
you forget why you missed them at all

and long for the things you left behind.

- I grieve for the croissant...
- I will not apologise.

I offer no regrets and I will not
talk about the past. Is that clear?

Whatever game you are playing,
I am not interested.

I simply do not know why you are here.

Oh, for God's sake, Randall.

What insane way could you
possibly think it was a good idea

for you to come here,
for you to work here?

Dust on the lens.

Didn't I always tell you what happens
if you leave the cap off the lens?

Oh, get this down to the soup kitchen
and ask them to develop it

- sooner than quick.
- Yes, Mr Lyon.

What?

Isaac has virtually been running
the home desk in your absence.

And I'm back.

Tread carefully.

What, Isaac? He can't be
trusted to run an entire desk.

Oh, so what are you suggesting?
That you write and present now?

Yes.

You see, this... This I haven't missed.

Egotism, the childish belief
that you can do...

control everything.

You can't.

This is what keeps you on your toes.

This is what stops you from
merging into some amoebic,

primitive life form.

We have just broken
a brilliant story. Admit it.

I thought I might lead
with the death of Dior.

Absurd. You're not serious. Dior?

Please. You speak of the founder of one
of the world's finest fashion houses.

You are wasted.
You are really wasted here.

Call Tatler immediately
or even better, Vogue.

You're pleased, just say it.

Just let me hear it from your lips.

Bravo! Yes, it was
one of my better ideas.

It's all in the execution.

Of course, we will lead
with my police story.

Don't worry, you'll get
your moment in the sun.

And by the way, who's been dressing you?

The beard has to go but the suit...

The suit is nice.

- You've rearranged yourself.
- A little.

A lot.

- It was a good trip?
- It was.

You come back...
Maybe it was the light.

Everything just seemed
clearer, brighter.

I realised what I wanted.

Um, I left something for you
on your desk.

My little Soho obsession.

- Sorry.
- No. No, you stay here.

It's your desk now. You seem
to be managing very well.

I'll stick to writing copy
and fitting in where I can.

And anyway, the view is...

The view is better here.

I know you, Mr Cilenti.

I'm late, I know. Sorry, darling.

Did you order?

Two fingers, please. No ice.

Telegraph is in.
You're lunching with The Sunday Times.

How is your new head of news?

Neurotics and traitors.
That's all they can send us.

- But I'm sure once he's settled in...
- Always the optimist, darling.

What transformative powers
can he really offer?

Mr Lyon is back. He bloody stole
my story this morning.

Really? But how?

It's all change at the top.

Well, they better get ready

because they should be paying me
treble what they're paying.

It's an insult.
I said so at the last review.

This time, they better do
a bloody sight better. Thank you.

I wonder what Mr Lyon is on?

Can you believe
they've asked him to co-host?

But he might just be what's needed.
You'll still be the lead presenter.

Exactly. I present.

But I could be doing much, much more.

I'm a valuable commodity
to be drawn from.

I could be shaping the show.
My input doesn't count for anything.

Sorry. Am I boring you?

Yes, you are. You are boring me.

I'm bored.

I spend my days trying to
break the monotony of homemaking

when there is nothing to home-make for.

Darling.

Eighteen months of trying, Hector.

I want you to go and see Dr Blakeson.

You should play some bridge.
You haven't played bridge for months.

Don't wait up.

Good evening, Miss Delaine.

Cover it with your hair.

I'll tell the boy to bring the lights
down quickly on your final number.

You okay?

See what happens when
you don't listen to me?

Angel girl.

Interesting.

That's what I thought.

The second suit, same face,
15 years younger.

- They look like the Marx Brothers.
- It's something to think about.

Background on recent unsolved killings.

Ignoring the obvious
scenes of domestic violence,

it's the random acts of brutality,
the beatings in a back alley

in the West End
that really stay with you.

This is crime as a means of control.

Makes you wonder who's in charge.

So, the word is
you're leaking our scoops.

- We are the scoop.
- Paying off already, Mr Lyon.

I hear ITV had their cameras in
and all eyes were on you.

Someone's nose is
going to be out of joint.

Yes?

You missed our 4:00.

Christ, it's going-home time already.

I hear it went well today.

Yes. Mr Lyon is back.

You're an alcoholic.

That was the first sentence
my head of news ever said to me.

The second, "Congratulations,
you're in good company."

Think of Mr Lyon as
your very own Sputnik 2.

The beep-beep on your radar.

A constant reminder that someone is
flying high and for once, it's not us.

Good for you. Makes you work harder.

Are you trying to oust me?

No, I'm confident you're doing
a perfectly good job of that yourself.

You fail to make
one more editorial meeting

or are late back from one more lunch

and I will personally
escort you from this building.

You should know that
my father-in-law is on the board.

That has only sustained you for so long.

Your contract's up for review.
Don't ask for any more.

You are trying to oust me.
That's why you brought him back.

Mr Lyon may not have
your presentational skills or charm

but he can be relied upon to deliver
an unquestionably good story

and that is what is wanted now.

You nasty little man!

- Sorry?
- Wheedling your way in.

I'm not wheedling.
Come back through the front door.

Last time I was marched out
the back, and where were you?

- Quaffing champagne with your chums.
- Don't patronise me.

Why not? It's what you've
always done to me.

I should thank you. It's the best thing
that could have happened.

I went somewhere.

America. And you know what?

Being a nobody in a country
where everybody thinks

they can be a somebody,
that's infectious.

It's exciting.

I want that.

For me.

Keep up, Hector.

Hector?

- What did you say to him?
- The obvious.

Marvellous.

Well, that went well.

Your father died.

- It comes to us all.
- "The most important event,

"the most poignant loss
in a man's life."

Freud. He didn't get on with his father.
Yet he blamed himself for his death.

It accounted in part for
his obsession with his own mortality

and an ever-nagging guilt
that he believed follows

when a father dies and his child lives.

When my father died, I bought a boat.
One of many rash decisions.

- And you?
- I'm sorry?

One can't be driven by guilt.

Shake it up.

Shake it all up, Mr Lyon.

Glad you haven't disappointed.

Oh, the GPO are planning to introduce
postcodes rather than addresses.

Orwell was right. We are all numbers.

Miss Storm.

Well done. You've decimated
the team in a space of 24 hours.

Actually, I hope
it's the opposite of that.

- Miss Rowley.
- Than you, Sissy.

- She's a brilliant producer.
- I never doubted her.

No harm in checking a pulse
from time to time.

The, um, thing, too?

Definitely.

Are you off?

Yes, I've got a date with
a packet of fennel

and the last chapter of my book.
You?

Uh, I thought I might go home.

You know, really, darling,
you are not getting any younger.

Surprise me. Buy a bottle of wine,
drink yourself silly

and dance all night with some
inappropriate man like you used to.

It's much better than
staying in with a good book.

Me? I'm old. I've made my mistakes.

But you, too pretty.
Don't let it go to waste.

Run away for too long
and they stop loving you back.

- Good night, Miss Bishop.
- Good night.

- Good night.
- Night, Miss Storm.

Mr Madden.

Mr Madden, so glad you could
join us again this evening.

- Your usual table?
- No. Not tonight.

Hello.

This is Ed and Ted...

Evening, Mrs Goldman.

Nice to have you home again, Freddie.

- Thank you, Mrs Goldman.
- She's very pretty.

- Is this her?
- What?

No, I'm just helping me fella move in.

No, no, no, this isn't her, Mrs Goldman.

We've been watching you,
and we like your style.

The Hour is very impressive.

Undoubtedly, it's your ship
and you sail it well.

We'd just like to see you
sail it over to our side.

Bill, thank you.

Well, it's not much to look at, but you
can give it a coat of paint or...

- Anyway, I hope it's all right.
- It's perfect. Thank you.

I'll just get the next box.

- Moneypenny.
- Don't say anything.

Let's just say hello
and start from there, all right?

I brought wine and steak
and even Rum Baba.

Freddie?

It's just me, Camille.

I'm chopping onion.

This is Sey.

- Sey.
- Oh, hello.

- And Sissy.
- Hi.

And this is Miss Rowley.

Oh!

So delighted to meet you.
Freddie has spoken so much of you.

And this is... my wife.

- Um, Camille?
- Yes.

Like the film with, um,
Greta Garbo and, uh...

Robert Taylor.

- Married?
- Yes.

- Two months ago.
- Just outside of Paris.

How romantic!

Um, I should go. I have to go now.

Bel?

Bel?

Married.

That's wonderful.

It's just what you need...

I mean, it's what you deserve.
And I... I...

I just couldn't...
I couldn't be happier for you.

After you.

Thank you.

Austin Hereford. Very nice. Yours?

No, it's my boyfriend's.

Filthy nigger.

- What happened to you?
- None of your beeswax.

I'd never let my fella do that.

Don't worry, he's got
what's coming to him.

You must never do
a tango with an Eskimo

No, no, no, oh dear, no

When a lady from Nebraska's
at a party in Alaska

She must never do
a tango with an Eskimo

You can do it with a Latin
from Manila to Manhattan...

Busy tonight.

All the usual suspects.

I must be doing
something right, Detective.

Your deal.

You'll get the breeze up
and you'll end up with a freeze up

You must never do
a tango with an Eskimo

No, no, no, no, no, no, no

No, no, no...