Those of a nervous disposition...
should now close their eyes.
Oh, dear.
Are you all right, Kitten?
No, I'm actually quite heartbroken.
I think I see the problem.
Gee, thanks, Cupid.
And the other thing about the Phantom Lady was, Bertie...
she realized, in the city that never sleeps....
What did she realize, Kitten?
That all the songs that she'd listened to, all the love songs...
well, they were only songs.
-What's wrong with that? -Nothing, if you don't believe in them.
But she did, you see.
She believed in enchanted evenings...
and she believed that a small cloud passed overhead...
and cried down on her flowerbed.
And she even believed there was breakfast to be had.
Where?
On Pluto.
The mysterious, icy wastes of Pluto.
You know, Kitten, I made a decision a long time ago.
What decision was that?
That I wasn't destined for the sentimental side of things.
But....
But if I did let myself ever fall for someone...
I think it would be a girl like you.
Bertie, please, I have to stop you. There's something you should know.
Or maybe what I should say is...
it would be a girl...
-not a million miles away from... -No, please don't.
...where I'm standing.
No.
What's the matter, princess?
Well, you see, the thing is, Bertie...
I'm not....
Yes?
I'm not a girl.
Oh, I knew that, princess.
-You did? -Of course.
What I said was...
it would be a girl like you.
I do believe I see Mummy over there.
Mammy!
Actually, she's just walked in. There.
Mammy! Mammy.
Bastards!
Think you can make fun of her?
You're coming with me.
Wait!
Please don't leave me.
What about the Prince of Magic?
-Please don't go. -Some fucking Prince of Magic.
No, maybe I should.... He doesn't mean bad, Charlie.
For Christ's sake, Paddy, what is happening to you?
Kitten!
Excuse me.
John Joe. John Joe!
John Joe!
Not a Womble anymore.
Don't talk to me about fucking Wombles! I'm in the Tower of London now.
Thirty smackers in the paw, boy, no questions asked.
Hey, they're looking for a Mary Queen of Scots.
-Would you be up for it? -They'd chop my head off, surely.
And here's the man to do it for you.
Smiley, huh?
Where's lrwin gone?
Him and his fucking revolution.
-How'd you carry it? -Bottom of my sleeping bag.
There won't be much sleeping with this baby.
So you haven't seen her, then?
She's here, though, somewhere.
I know it. I just know it, Charlie.
Big fucking city.
I'm losing lrwin, you know.
How?
He's up to something. I know it.
He's got these secrets.
So why did you come over, Charlie?
Wasn't just to see me.
Was it something to do with lrwin?
You might say that.
I'm pregnant.
Oh, Jesus, Charlie.
Does he know?
You know all he knows about.
Or cares.
But you didn't come here to have the baby?
I came here to get rid of it.
You have to tell him, Charlie.
I can't.
He's all fucked up. He's....
So, how are the homeless?
Homeless are fine.
That's what keeps him out late, Kitten...
working with the homeless.
Right, lrwin?
-I can't have it, can l, Paddy? -No.
No, you can't.
Irwin's involved in shit I don't wanna think about.
I know.
What would it turn out like, Paddy? You know what I mean, don't you?
It'd be an absolute disaster, like me.
Now, I want you to read this leaflet.
It outlines all aspects of the termination procedure.
Termination?
-You mean this is an abortion clinic? -Yes, of course it is.
I thought it was a fertility clinic.
I think she changed her mind. Thank you.
You said it'd be a disaster, like you.
Worse, probably.
-But I love you, you fucking disaster. -Oh, Charlie.
-Promise you won't get lost again? -I promise.
Tell him.
Tell me what?
Charlie's joining the Sandinistas. Aren't you, Charlie?
-Sandinistas? -They're a rock band.
-Aren't they, Charlie? -Where can I reach you?
Try Cambridge Circus.
See you, Paddy.
-You and me, darling. What do you say? -I don't quite know what to say.
Christ, you're a bloke!
Ten out of ten, Sherlock.
You fancy a drink or something?
Campari and soda, if you don't mind.
Of course I don't.
Wouldn't have asked you otherwise, would l?
Campari and soda, please, mate.
There you go, mate.
Cheers.
Thank you.
-Crowded tonight. -Oh, yes.
-Football supporters? -No, Royal Engineers.
Oh, soldiers.
Just come back from a tour of duty.
-Aden? Cyprus? No, let me guess. -Fucking Ulster.
I haven't got anything against the lrish, though, mind.
-I hear they're very friendly. -Don't know. Maybe.
It's the politicians what fuck it up, though, isn't it?
Do you wanna dance?
Yes, I'd love to.
-You okay? -Oh, yes. Super.
You seem a little bit tense.
Would you do something for me?
Yeah, of course.
Would you pretend your name's Bobby?
Bobby who?
Bobby Goldsboro.
It's his song, you see.
Bobby it is, then.
All you have to do is plant a little tree...
surprise me with a puppy...
I'll hug your neck.
Back. Go to the back end.
Get as many men down as you can.
All right, my love, we're gonna get you out of here.
Come on, my love. Can you stand?
That's it.
As many people as we can get out through the door.
Take my shoulder, love.
You're all right, mate, I've got you.
My tights.
-Easy, easy. -Steady down there. Steady.
My tights! They're in ribbons.
You're alive, love, that's the main thing. Come on.
I know what I'll have to do, I'll have to get a new pair.
There's no other way, I'm afraid.
Keep still, darling. Don't try and move, okay?
Please, let us through now!
Watch out.
-I told you, from my best side, darlings. -Bring the other ambulance.
Slow down.
That's it. Slowly now.
Come on, get out of the way, please! Come on.
-Out of the way. -Please, nurse, he's in so much pain.
No, they're Christian Dior. Do you really have to?
How silly can you get, putting an "X" across my weenie.
Not so silly as 11 fucking people blown to pieces...
you twisted little cunt!
Fucking baby-faced, fucking lrish murderer!
I'm sorry, did you call?
I can't quite see where you are. I'm over here, you see.
Millions of miles up here with Sirius guarding my head.
Tell him what he wants to know!
It's free. Everyone thinks it's cold up here...
but it's actually quite warm.
Yes, it's warm as toast up on Pluto.
Pluto.
Don't try the fucking blarney on us, Paddy!
We know you planted the fucking bomb!
But of course I did, my darling.
Why, I've planted hundreds of them.
Have you now? Well, plant this!
Hello, officer.
I'm over here.
Just take a left at the Milky Way.
We'll travel to Mars and visit
Christ, I can't fucking stand this!
Listen, son, why don't you just make a statement?
A statement, officer? Why didn't you just say so?
Attaboy. There's no point making it hard for all of us.
Of course not. After all, we're all friends here.
Let's start with where you were on Thursday, October 17th.
I was in my little cell working with my active service unit.
But I was working undercover.
Undercover?
Oh, it's all coming back to me now. Pen and paper, please.
Patricia Kitten, a.k.a. Deep Throat...
had penetrated the deepest recesses of the Republican sphincter...
with her secret anti-terrorist spray...
named after Gabrielle Coco Chanel's lucky number.
The stability of Semtex will be compromised.
Oh, but, Lord, was she sick of that black.
What is it with freedom fighters and couture anyway?
You've got fuse support and booster charge.
What can I say? We've got here the pressure plate--
Stop
Is there anyone here?
Why won't he just talk to us?
Did he or didn't he, dressed as a woman, get caught by his own bomb?
We've held him six days now. Seven's the max.
Paddy?
-You all right? -Fine. Absolutely wonderful.
Meet us halfway, will you, Paddy? Tell us why you came over here.
Well, I was just looking for someone.
-I was just looking for Eily Bergin. -Who's Eily Bergin, Paddy?
She's gone undercover now.
The biggest city in the world swallowed her up.
Could she help us with our inquiries, Paddy?
She could help me with mine.
Do you want us to find her? Have you got an address?
-You could try The House That Vanished. -The House That Vanished.
Oh, Christ. I think we're all losing it.
We're gonna get some sleep now, Paddy. We're gonna get some sleep.
Look, I think we may have made a mistake.
-Officer? -What is it now?
If you came home from the office and you found me lying on the floor...
-would you take me to the hospital? -Well, of course I would.
And would you carry me like you're doing now?
Well, yeah.
So if I wasn't a transvestite terrorist, would you marry me?
No, for fuck's sake.
Well, is Officer Wallis gonna be a happy man or what?
We've held you too long by all accounts. Look.
Oh, no, you can't.
You can't. Not when I'm settling in so well.
Take your head off my shoulder, son.
You don't understand, Paddy. We can't keep you here.
It's impossible. We couldn't even if we wanted to.
Fuck this, I'm going on a long holiday. Wife says I need it.
Come on!
Come on, just for one day. It wouldn't kill you.
Sorry, Paddy. It's impossible.
-Okay, a half-a-day, please? -No.
Look, do you mind me asking?
I mean, why do you wanna.... I mean, it don't make any sense.
-lt just makes me feel secure. -Secure?
Yes, you see, in the cell...
sometimes I think my legs are turning into air...
and I'm floating in space, and I'm all alone.
"Galactic aloneness," I've heard that called.
Please, Routledge.
I just wanna belong.
I'd be your best prisoner. I'd cook and I'd clean and I'd sweep...
and I'd iron all the uniforms. I....
-Hey, Paddy! -I just wanna....
No, I'm afraid it's goodbye now.
All right, go get that bus there.
Go on!
Jennifer Jones and William Holden.
Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing?
Have you ever been in love?
Once I thought I was.
He was a lucky man.
I'd pay you.
I'd give you whatever you wanted.
Whatever you wanted, I'd give you.
That's my mammy! That's my mammy!
Excuse me! Excuse me.
Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.
Excuse me. Excuse me, excuse me.
Hello!
Hello, sir. Can I be of assistance?
I don't do anything heavy, but aside from that I'd be more....
I could have you arrested, you know.
Well, icky-oakie me.
Get in.
This is no life for a young man like you, Patrick.
Well, cuff me then. Carry me to my sweet cell.
No.
Oh, wait, you're not an actual punter, are you? How exciting.
No, it's not.... It's not that either. It's a lot more serious than that, Patrick.
Well, of course it is, of course it's serious. Everything's serious.
Oh, you're gonna die out there, Paddy!
I know.
Why don't you try and get a regular job?
Well, to tell you the truth, lnspector, I'm not that employable.
So I gathered.
Fucking hell.
Come with me.
A group of girls got themselves off the street, Patrick.
Set up a co-op.
What do you mean, "co-op"?
You know, like.... Sort of like.... A union, you could call it.
Girls?
Hello. Come on.
It's not ideal, but it's safe...
and legal.
Casandra.
Goddess of Destruction.
-Girls? Hello. -Hello.
This is Patrick.
-Hello, Patrick. -Hello.
He's a friend of mine, so be gentle. Hello, Sam.
We're always nice. Patrick, do you wanna play poker?
Love poker.
-Yeah, we'll put him in. -Are you all right?
-You'll be working with us? -I hope so. If you'll have me.
We're a nice bunch here.
-No bitchiness or nothing here. -Look at his hair.
-So where are you from? -Cavan.
Very nice. I'm from Dublin. You'll do well here.
You'll like us girls. So you'll definitely like it here.
Dear Charlie, sorry I haven't been in touch...
and I hope that everything is going fine with you.
How's the bump?
Just writing to say that I've got a new address.
It's Xanadu on Old Compton Street...
and you can reach me there at any time.
I'm saving like mad to get over to see you when it happens in....
What is it? Four months, two weeks, and three days.
Hello.
Show me your bazoozums.
-I beg your pardon? -You know.
What's that?
Now, listen, sir, we can't all have big bazoozums.
Some of us are what you might call svelte.
-Svelte? -Yes. That's a Swedish word, I believe.
-There's also a French one. -Aye, give me the French.
Gamine.
-Gamine? -Yes, and that's what I am, sir.
A svelte gamine.
How much is that doggy in the window?
The one with the waggly tail
Not "waggly," "waggedy." "Waggedy tail."
Dear sir unseen, I know my music...
and I'm willing to bet you 10 times whatever pathetic price you paid in here...
that the dog's tail is waggly.
Now I wanna hear you bark.
-Hello. -Please don't do that.
As you wish, sir.
I don't do this sort of thing often.
That's all right, sir, we've got lots of time.
-I knew a boy like you once. -Oh, I'm not a boy, sir, I'm a girl.
-Oh, you're a girl. -Yes.
You can call me Patricia. That's my name, sir.
Can I tell you a story, Patricia?
Oh, please do. Stories are what I love.
-You love stories? -Love stories.
Even more than mysteries.
Don't do that, please, please.
Very well, sir, I'm all ears.
Once upon a time, there was a boy who never knew his father and mother.
Oh, how sad. How unbearably sad. Was he an unbearably sad little boy?
He didn't seem so. No, he laughed. He laughed a lot.
Perhaps the kind of laughter that disguises tears?
Maybe laughter was the only way to...
deal with....
Please go on. To deal with....
To deal with his circumstances.
You seem to understand this boy quite well, sir.
I knew his father.
And?
And...
though his father loved him very much...
he could never tell the boy how much....
How much?
He could never tell the boy how much he loved him.
Well, this can't be a true story. It can't be.
Why not?
Why could he not tell the boy how much he loved him?
Because he didn't know how.
He had the words for many things, you see, but he didn't have the words for that.
There are only three words for that. They're easy to say.
Sometimes they are.
Other times, they're not. Other times, they're....
They're impossible.
And he loved the boy's mother, too, but that was equally impossible.
So he never told the boy?
He never told him and then the boy left...
and came to England, and the father had...
Iots of time to think about all the things...
all the things that might have been, should have been.
He had all the time in the world to think.
And what did he think about?
He thought, he imagined perhaps, that the boy had come to England...
Iooking for his mother.
And what was his mother's name?
-Her name was Eily. Eily Bergin. -Oh, God.
And so the father thought the one thing he could do...
was tell him where he could find his mother.
-Where to find the Phantom Lady? -What?
Please, go on.
She married, had two children.
-Probably won't want to see him. -But where does she live?
19 Spencer Rise, in Kilburn.
'Cause you know what I want, I want English...
-I want conservative, I want East Finchley... -Yeah.
...I want powerful.
-You think it works? -I think you look better than her.
-I do look better than her, don't l? -You do.
Do you need help, miss?
Yes, I'm doing a survey for British Telecom.
-Do you know where 19 Spencer Rise is? -That's my house. There.
It's your....
-Can't you read numbers? -No, yes, I can read numbers.
So, what's the survey?
Well, it's about telephones.
-Do you have a telephone? -Everyone has a telephone.
No, not everyone, young man. Some people can't afford one.
Well, we can.
I see.
-And so what is your name? -My name's Patrick.
Patrick.
And how many phones do you have, Patrick?
Shouldn't you be asking my mother?
Yes. Yes, of course I should.
And where would I find her?
Mum, there's a nice lady here doing a survey....
Are you.... Oh, my God!
-You feeling better, love? -Oh, yes, thank you.
-Some more tea? -No, thank you.
So, what's this survey about, then?
-It's about phones, Mum. -Phones? With Telecom?
Yes, British Telecom.
-Are you a multi-phone household? -Yes. Yes, we've got three.
One in the bedroom, one in the kitchen, and one in Geoffrey's office.
-Geoffrey.... -ls my husband.
Sorry.
How frequently is your telephone used?
Very. Laura's never off it.
Laura?
My daughter. She's 13.
I see, I see.
You don't have much use for the phone, though, do you, Patrick?
No, I suppose not.
-Well, Miss.... -Johnson. Delia Johnston.
Johnston.
If you've any other questions, don't hesitate to call.
No, I think I have more than enough, thank you.
-Thank you for the tea. -Oh, you're welcome.
Bye.
Shouldn't you have a uniform?
No, I shouldn't have a uniform.
The men who put the phones in have a uniform.
Do they, now?
-Aren't they from Telecom? -Yes, they are.
Then how come Telecom don't know how many phones we have?
Well, because it's from a different department.
Why don't you just phone up, then, and ask the questions?
Because there's nothing like the personal touch, now, is there?
Why don't--
Young man, I get the feeling you don't like me.
You're wrong. I think you're nice.
Well, I think you're nice, too.
-Why are you crying? -It's conjunctivitis.
I gave your address to Father Liam, and I hope you don't mind.
He's been very kind to me, Kitten, and I need all the kindness I can get.
The Special Branch lifted me on a dope charge, you see.
And they used that to get to Irwin.
They lifted Charlie on the dope charge.
They said she'd be having the baby in prison, if I didn't--
If you didn't what, lrwin?
If I didn't inform them about operations.
-You do it. -No, you do it.
I can't. I went to school with his brother.
Hey, lads, did you hear the one about the Cavan man?
-What Cavan man? -Cavan man in--
What will I call you?
Father.
You call me "Father." Come in.
I can't.
I prayed, you know. I prayed you'd come back.
Did you find her?
Yes. No. Kind of.
Where's Charlie?
She's upstairs. Come on.
After the drugs charge, there were problems at home...
so I took her in.
She hardly eats a thing, you know. She's wasting away.
Maybe you could....
-Where do you sleep, Father? -Don't worry about me.
Charlie.
Is that you, Kitten?
Charlie. Take it easy now.
Swann's Cross.
-They put a rubbish bag over his head. -Hush, Charlie.
My parents told me to go back where I came from.
Don't think about it, Charlie.
Your baby, that's all that matters now.
And I'm here to help you.
Robins, Father. Would you believe it? Pecking at the cream.
I'm sure the poor things must be starved.
Ta.
You have your mother's eyes, do you know that, Patrick?
Color of the ocean beyond Rosses Point.
You took her there?
Many times.
Things could have been so different.
Don't say anything.
Because, you know, the strangest thing...
I went looking for her...
but I found you.
No, in the end it was a blessed release.
She was a lovely woman. She never missed a day at Mass.
When they opened her up, they found a lump as big as a melon.
A melon? That big?
Maybe it was a grapefruit. I get them mixed up.
So, we're not exactly blessed with choice, Father, dear.
And is there any rule that says that when you're pregnant...
you need to dress like a lollipop lady?
-I know of no such rule, Patrick. -No, so I thought.
This little hippy number might give her the lift she needs.
Very nice.
Velvet, Father.
Like crushed grass.
Look, Father.
Oh, can we try the silver fur, missus?
Is it for yourself?
Twenty-five different colored Babygros. Four teddy bears, I can understand...
-but I don't need a pram yet, Kitten. -You will.
-Where did you get the money? -Oh, singing.
How much is that doggy in the window?
The one with the
-ls it waggedy or waggly, Charlie? -Waggly.
No, wait a minute.
-Oh, Father? -Yes.
You know the doggy with the tail? Is it waggly or waggedy?
The song?
Waggedy, I seem to remember. Your mother never stopped singing it.
Aye, waggedy tail.
Waggedy.
How much is that doggy in the window?
The one with the waggedy tail
How much is that doggy in the window?
Oh, Jesus Christ and his holy mother.
-Why doesn't the Bishop do something? -The Bishop!
The Bishop we have isn't worth a damn.
-What did she say...? -The Bishop isn't worth a damn!
Now mind your language missus
Do you know something, Thomas?
There are times when I wish I was a bus conductor.
...the welfare state and all.
Can't stay here, anyways.
But you'll come and see us, Father? After the baby's--
Well, the only parish I've been offered is in Kilburn, so you might see a lot of me.
You saved my life, Father.
And mine.
Great, big, fireproof man.
Come on, Charlie, push! Push!
I am pushing, Kitten, fuck you!
-I am pushing! -Breathe.
-Jesus! -Come on.
It's tearing me apart!
Hey, you're the telephone lady.
If it isn't the young boy from the multi-phone household.
What are you doing here?
Mum's with the doctor. She's, you know, got a bun in the fireplace.
-I think you mean the oven, young man. -Okay, then, the oven.
What's your name?
Phantom Lady.
-That's a funny name. -I know that. I'm a funny lady.
-ls that your baby? -No, it's hers.
She's having her fireplace checked.
Isn't she? Yes, she is.
-Charlie, darling, this is-- -Patrick.
This is my young friend Patrick.
So, how's your fireplace?
My fireplace is 100%.
And your little bun is just fine, too, aren't you? Yes, you are.
Patrick, there's your mum. You'd better run.
Okay.
Patrick, will you tell her that...
the telephone lady says that she hopes it's a girl this time.
-Okay. -Okay.
-She looks nothing like Mitzi Gaynor -What do you know about Mitzi Gaynor?
Nothing. But as Oscar Wilde said...
I love talking about nothing. It's the only thing I know anything about