An Isle of Man signpost outside a French town?
That's odd.
But we've started this tale at the wrong moment.
It really began much earlier.
It's the story of a very strange little character named Bridie Quilty.
The village of Ballygarry...
Deep in the west of Ireland...
...in the year 1937.
"Surrender!..."
A shot rang out...
"Surrender!"
We knew then, Eoghan was caught.
The English were on the floor below in countless hosts.
Myself and Michael O'Callaghan...
...to keep the fair and sacred name of Ireland unbesmirched.
Ah...it was a shockin' moment right enough.
For we didn't stall...
I looks at Mick...
...and Mick looks at me...
There was a strange stillness on the day.
We crept behind the back of them, and waited.
Then I heard the boards on the stairs begin to creak.
And the head of the first Englishman come round the door.
Ping!
With me first bullet, I put a partin' in his hair that his mother could be proud of!
Then they were on us.
Up the stairs like rats up a waterspout.
The fight was on!
Ah...it was a grand bit of a fight, right enough.
I remember one time... I turns around and looks at Mick.
Now, I'll never be sure what he was thinking just then...
I know there was only one thought in MY mind...
I was thinkin' about Cromwell!
Oliver-Mister-Cromwell!...
...caused the death and destruction, the poverty and persecution...
The suffering and starvation that he brought...
...on the sacred soil of holy Ireland.
We fought like a dozen men, so we did.
Myself and Mick.
'Til our last bullet was gone.
They took us then.
And dragged us into the street to join the others.
There we were... just a handful of us.
Worn, torn and bedraggled.
Marching down O'Connor Street...
The city we loved, burning around us...
The crowd silent and sad...
And then it was...
Like as if heaven itself would bring hope to us, and justice.
A miracle happened.
A little black-haired angel of a girleen...
...pushed through the line of English bayonets.
She caught a hold of Michael's hand and started to sing.
A simple little song it was only...
Down O'Connor Street it swept...
...like a forest fire.
The Revolution was born again...
They would not die in vain.
Night after night, Bridie listened to that same old tale.
That same old song of the Revolution.
With her father's death, she grew up with a bitter hatred of everything British.
Until, in the spring of 1944, she came of age.
Bridie, why do you suddenly have to confront us with a terrible thing, the like of this?
Don't you dare bang the table at me, Terence Delaney...
I've told you so, I have... 'til I'm nearly dumb with talk.
The day I'm 21 I said, and I come in the inheritance...
I'll take the 10.42 from Glenderry Station, I said, to travel to Dublin.
And that's exactly what I'm doing.
I'm not asking you what you're doing...
I'm asking you why you're doing it.
Why child, do you have to choose a sinful place, the like of Dublin.
Uncle Timothy I'm surprised at you asking a question like that...
...of Danny Quilty's daughter.
Timothy Hogan...are you going to sit there and let a skirt of a girl defy you?
I'm 21...I'm my own mistress.
That's an occupation that could change hands overnight!
Can it indeed?
I'm well able to look after myself...
...be it in Dublin or Ballygarry... as Terence here will tell you.
...say nothing at all of Mr McGee there.
And Mr Clougherty.
Well HE knows I can take care of myself.
And while we're on the subject...
I fancy we're all being rather overanxious.
After all, Bridie has a mind of her own.
She appears to have made it up.
Thank you, Mr Ransome.
Now that's all settled to nobody's satisfaction but my own...
...I'll be getting my things together.
I just want to say how grateful I am to you all, for your kindness...
One of these days you'll be as proud of me as you were of my father.
Uncle Timothy...are you taking me to the station?
I'd better go and harness the mare, I suppose.
Let ME take you, Bridie...
No..no..no..nobody's to come to the station... Only Uncle Timothy.
I don't want my 21st birthday celebrations interrupted.
You know it is my belief...
...that it was her father who put all that nonsense into her head.
Maybe...he had a power of words and a very far-reaching imagination.
What are you hinting at, Maggie?
I'm hinting at nothing.
Only I'm told, that of all the men of Ireland...
...that are supposed to have fought in the Rise and did fight...
...the General Post Office and all the buildings of Dublin put together, wouldn't hold them.
Not that I'm saying a word against Danny, mind you.
Indeed, I should hope not!
Anyone in Ballygarry can tell you that he set out on his bicycle for Dublin.
He set out, alright.
But there's a terrible lot of pubs between here and Dublin.
Goodbye, Terence!
Quickly...the train's here!
Hurry now...we'll miss it.
Goodbye Uncle Timothy!
Take care of yourself, Bridie!
His hair is going grey.
But it looks very nice, the way he has it brushed.
He has a faraway look in his eyes.
A poet, maybe.
No...he's much too clean.
And he puts his trousers under the mattress, like Terence Delaney!
Hasn't he the lovely nails!
He's a gentleman, I think.
I don't like being alone with a strange man, at this time of night.
He doesn't look that sort of man, of course, but...
How can you tell?
Mr McGee didn't look that sort of man.
And Mr Clougherty was a terrible shock to me.
He's a traveller from abroad.
"Miller"...that can't be an Irish name.
He's English!
Of all the compartments in this train, I have to get into one with an Englishman!
Now I might have known it... will you look at him...
Will you look at the cruel set of his jaw!
You could mistake him for Cromwell!
If he speaks to me, I shall lose my temper.
I shall tell him he looks like Cromwell.
If he speaks to me.
Business...that's all the English ever think about.
You say?
Oh, I was saying nothing at all...
It was just my thoughts expressing themselves in private.
I beg your pardon.
I feel I should add...there are other things we think about.
I'd rather not discuss the matter further, if you don't mind.
You should visit England one day... It may change your mind.
There's no need...I have an aunt there, who's told me all about it.
She says the upper classes are cringing...
...and always moaning about their troubles.
And the lower classes are arrogant... and think they own the earth.
I thought it was the other way round!
My aunt runs a servants registry office.
Aha!...
There's no "ah" about it...
She hates the whole lot of them, and so do I.
My father fought for Ireland against the English, in 1916...
And if I ever get the chance, I'll do the same.
For the subject of a neutral country... aren't you being a little belligerent?
There's nothing belligerent about it.
It's entirely a question of which side I'm neutral on.
Now, if it's all the same to you, I'll be getting on with my sandwiches.
- Is this Dublin? - That's right!
About time for it, too... I've a terrible crick in the back of my neck.
Hey! Where are you going with that?
I'll see you to a cab.
Out of the way there, please... out of the way!
Where to, Sir?
It's the young lady...
224 Beechwood Ave, is it?
I'll give my own instructions, if you don't mind, thank you.
Sorry.
Don't mention it...it's very kind of you... Goodbye!
Would you take me to the Redmond Porters Gallery, please?
Very good, Miss.
I won't be long...will you wait please?
Me name is Bridie Quilty and I want to see the Deputy Director, Mr Michael Callaghan, please.
Mr Callaghan doesn't usually see people without an appointment, Miss.
What would your business be?
If you'll just tell him it's Danny Quilty's daughter...that's all.
Danny Quilty's daughter...
Liam, keep your eye on the till... I'm going to see Mr Callaghan.
Can I go inside?
Lastly...a portrait of James Joyce...
Painted by that well-known Irish artist, Jack Yeats.
This way...keep close to me now.
In you come, me loves, me doves, me darlin's.
In you come...where are we now?
Ah yes...the Gallery of the Famous...
Well, let's see if we can find out who they are.
Here's our old friend Sir Roger Casement...
A lovely man!
Knighted by the British for his fight against Belgian tyranny over thee in Africa.
Hung by the British, for his fight against British tyranny here in Ireland.
It's a mad world, me darlin's... a mad world!
And this is Pádraic Pearse...
Commandant and chief of the Republican forces during the insurrection of 1916.
And this is James Connolly... one of the founders of the Citizen Army.
And here we have Michael Callaghan, another leader of the insurrection.
Mr Callaghan is now Deputy Director of these galleries.
Pass along, please.
And here are three famous Irish dramatists...
J.M. Synge, Sean O'Casey and George Bernard Shaw.
The first being dead, and the other 2 living in England.
You asked to see me, young lady.
Is it Mr Callaghan?
It is.
Oh, me heart's beatin' like a drum!
To think it's really you I'm looking at face to face, after all these years.
Didn't the man tell you...? I'm Danny Quilty's daughter, Bridie.
Danny Quilty's daughter Bridie?
But surely you can't have...
Oh...now isn't that stupid of me...
How could you know me...?
I wasn't even born when you and father were together.
That's what was puzzling me for the moment...
Would you like to come into my office?
Thank you!
Won't you sit down?
Thank you.
You know, Mr Callaghan, the way father used to talk about you...
I feel as if I'd known you all me life.
I can just see you both now, waiting behind the back counter.
The back counter?
He told me that story hundreds of times.
And every time, he made it live!...
He was a remarkable story teller, me father.
Remarkable.
What suddenly gave you the idea of coming to see me like this.
We're not likely to be interrupted, are we?
I don't think so.
Why?
Because, what I'm going to tell you, I've never told a living soul.
I've been storing it up inside me until I saw you.
I want you to get me into the Irish Republican Army.
I beg your pardon?!
I want to join the IRA, please...
I want to fight against the English... the way yourself and father did.
But my dear child...we're not at war with Britain.
I know they've a separate war on with somebody else...
...and we're neutral...
But that's no reason why we shouldn't carry on our own private war...
...that's been going on for the last 700 years.
But in 1921, Ireland signed a treaty with England.
Well, what has a treaty to do with it?
Well, we got a good deal of what we wanted, by it.
Not everything, mind.
Ireland is still partitioned.
I'm aware of that.
But I believe that if England and Ireland come together...
...and discuss it on a friendly basis...
...partition won't last very long.
"A friendly basis"?
It can't be you, saying these things, Mr Callaghan.
Not after the way father said you talked.
After the fight, yourself and himself put up.
After all the English have done to Ireland, since Cromwell.
Child of grace!... Cromwell's been dead 300 years.
So? Not in Ballygarry.
No, I'd forgotten that.
You seem to have forgotten a great deal, if I may say so.
Perhaps I'm more in contact with reality.
Life is real enough in Ballygarry.
It's also very romantic, and very remote.
We have the papers and we can listen in to Raidió Éireann.
Young lady...I'm going to give you a piece of advice.
Times have changed.
And believe me, things are best done nowadays by constitutional means.
So, forget this wild notion, will you?
And go home.
You're not going to help me?
No.
But I've come all this way.
I've dreamed of it for years.
I'm really very sorry.
So that's all you've got to say!
You're sorry, and do it by constitutional means.
You've grown old and soft and comfortable sitting here, Mr Callaghan!
Go out in that gallery... and look at the pictures there.
Look at your own picture and ask yourself if you're the same man.
Maybe I'm not.
We all lose something as we grow older.
But if we're very lucky, we gain a little wisdom on the way.
All I'm asking you is to think over what I've said.
Goodbye.
There's nothing like books for collecting dust.
Yes, they seem to be well-stocked here.
I've been looking for a 'Life of Curzon' for years.
We were afraid you wouldn't be here on time.
I was told on Wednesday, in Lisbon... caught the first plane.
You've got your papers for England, I take it?
Yes...I've an Argentine passport...
I could have thought of happier excuses... I don't like bulls.
Bulls will be the easiest part of your business.
Dis you ever meet Oscar Pryce?
Yes, in Leipzig, last autumn.
Did you know that he was in England?
No.
At the moment he's awaiting trial in a military prison...
...in a little place called Wynbridge Vale, in the west country.
Bad luck.
Well?
Pryce has vital information... we HAVE to know what it is.
How?
We must get him out of that prison.
I see what you mean about the bulls.
If we lost 20 lives over this matter, it would be worth it.
Was anyone else arrested?
I don't know.
Then they may be suspect, in which case I don't use them.
I'll have to get an entirely new team together.
Do we know when Pryce will be tried?
No.
Or where?
No.
Know anything that's likely to help us in any way?
Nothing I'm afraid...
Except that I found this little guide book to Wynbridge Vale.
It'll show you the lie of the land.
Thank you.
I must call on the town clerk... I'm sure he'll be delighted to lend us a hand.
Good luck.
Goodbye.
Are these all the German books you've got?
I'm afraid we haven't many at the moment, Miss.
How about this?
"German Without a Master, in 3 Months".
You haven't got one that'll do it in less?
I'm afraid not.
Well, maybe I can skip some of it. How much?
Three and sixpence.
Thank you.
- Are you taking that book, Sir?
What? ...Oh yes.
'Guides to Wynbridge Bay'... 2 shillings, Sir, please.
But you'll want some change, Sir.
300 years he's stood there, with nobody taking any interest in him.
Except the seagulls.
That ain't seagulls.
There wasn't any paint on him when the pubs turned out last night.
It's after they turn out that things happen.
Well i reckon, whoever did it must've been plastered.
Nobody left here, plastered, last night.
One or two were giving a passable imitation.
Hello, Bridie...had your picture taken yet?
Get away with you!... I'm not competing with Betty Grable!
Reggie's got a pinup of Betty, behind his bed.
Hasn't looked at it since Bridie came here.
You'd be surprised the difference she's made to Grandfather.
He hasn't been on his feet for years...
The other day, he went right round his room, 4 times.
Did he catch her?
But they're a nice bunch of boys, Granddad...
You're too young to have anything to do with soldiers.
Well, I only talk to them.
You went out with that Sgt Harris on your last half-day.
Well, where's the harm in that... he's very shy.
They're the worst.
Are you there, Bridie?
I'll be with you right away, Mrs Edwards.
I can let you have the room in the front until Saturday...
But I may have to change you then.
That's alright.
Now...the registration form please.
Dry spell of weather we're having.
Very.
River's low, they tell me.
Is it?
Bad for the salmon, I understand.
Yes, I suppose so.
I thought perhaps you were here for the fishing.
Very few people come for anything else.
Really? It seems to be quite a pleasant little town.
Close to the sea...lovely country.
In fact everything that goes to make a holiday.
Bridie...show this gentleman up to No. 16...would you?
Yes, Mrs Edwards.
This way, Sir.
Thank you.
Nice young man!
I'll have another, Mrs Edwards.
Will you watch your head now.
I forgot to tell you about the step. This will be your room.
Irish...mm?
I've got an Irish grandmother on my father's side.
At least, half-Irish.
Indeed!?
Quaint old place, this.
How far's the sea?
About a mile and a half.
Will there be anything else you require, please...?
It's me half-day.
No, I don't think so, thank you.
Thank you.
I suppose you wouldn't know anyone...
...who could show me round the town this afternoon by any chance?
I would not.
No...I only wondered.
You're awful quick, aren't you?
Sorry...I've been working very closely with the American army.
The cheek of him!
Sgt Harris is here, Bridie.
Oh...I'll be with him in a minute.
She's just coming.
You're early...she's not off 'til 1 o'clock, you know.
You're not going to interfere with love's young dream, are you?
Nightmare, you mean... that half of it.
You'd like to be in my shoes.
As long as I don't have to get behind that moustache.
I'm ready, Harry.
She's ready, Harry... Have a good time, Sarge!
And don't forget that girl you left behind in Luton.
Good luck, Sarge!
Hello!
May I have another, Mrs Edwards?
Of course.
I suppose you wouldn't have such a thing as a small Scotch.
Certainly.
Well, this IS an historic town, alright!
I see someone's been touching up old Cromwell.
- Have they found the culprit? - I don't think so.
Well, whoever it was, they never came from this place.
Most of my customers last night were military, from the prison.
Winmore Prison?
That's right.
Out on the old Roman road, isn't it?
I couldn't say... Like you, I'm only a visitor.
I thought nobody visited Wynbridge, except for fishing.
Mr Miller's a cattle-breeder over from The Argentine to buy bulls.
Seems a long way to travel for a thing like that.
Long way for bulls, too.
What time's dinner?
- Supper's at 7.30. - Thank you.
...over from the RAF... So naturally it wasn't in very good condition.
We were about 10 miles past Burnham when it broke down.
It was the transport officer's responsibility really...
But he was away sick... So I said to Corporal Groves...
That's the ginger-haired fellow I was telling you about...
...to take a look at the carburettor...
It's getting very late, Harry.
You don't have to go in yet, do you?
I'm supposed to be in by 10.30.
Oh, but you can wait a little.
I haven't said half the things I wanted to say.
And I've been talking "Army shop" to you for the last 3 hours.
I shall kick myself for that when I get back.
It's been very interesting Harry, it has indeed...
But I simply must go in. Mrs Edwards will be mad at me.
Goodbye now.
I'm extremely sorry I'm so late, Mrs Edwards...
I'd have given you the key, if I'd known.
I should have told you.
I apologise.
Can't think where you can find to go at this time of night.
A place like Wynbridge.
I had an appointment with a farmer out at Matchcombe... I missed the last bus.
Goodnight...and thank you.
Goodnight.
- I'm here. - Quiet!
Well...?
They're taking Pryce to London on the 9.15 on Tuesday evening.
Tuesday?
They allow half an hour from the prison to the station...
...arriving 20 minutes before the train.
He wasn't suspicious?
No.
Asked me what evening I could get off... Said he couldn't manage Tuesday...
...and then told me the rest.
A bit here...and a bit there.
You did better than I expected.
I don't feel as if I'd done anything at all.
It was all so simple.
You showed that young man in No.16 up to his room...
I did.
What do you make of him?
He's far too sure of himself, all together.
You mean he's the over-confident type? So much the better.
Why? Who is he?
An intelligence officer.
I expected one to materialise, before they transferred a prisoner like Pryce.
The usual precaution.
What makes you think he's that.
He booked here 'til Tuesday... knew where the prisoner was...
...and then went to the police station.
He's an army officer... and he's not interested in fishing.
Other than conversationally.
I'd never have thought of all that.
Do you think he'll find out anything?
He'd be safer out of the way.
You're not going to bump him off?!
My dear girl!
No...I shall fall back on a very simple formula.
The beautiful decoy.
The oldest of the arts of war.
Almost the only feature that hasn't been mechanised.
Arrange your next half day for Tuesday... and persuade him to take you into the country.
Me!?
Keep him away from the town for a few hours... that will be quite enough.
How can I possibly keep him away, if he knows he has to get back?
He's young and impressionable.
But I don't like him.
It matters little my dear, what you like or don't like.
You really mean you want me to throw myself at him...
...like a...
I might have known this'd happen!
I've half a mind to refuse...
I'd never bargained for anything like this.
Let's sit here.
Bessy...come here!
How far are we from Wynbridge?
Oh, I don't know... Not far, I'm sure.
We seem to have been walking for hours.
What's the time?
My watch is bust.
It's...5.30.
You must be slow.
No...I put it right, by the radio.
Tell me...what on earth gave you the idea of spending your leave here?
Well...I was at Cambridge when the war broke out...
...cutting short a brilliant scholastic career.
Now I'm trying to pick up the threads... writing a thesis for my degree, in my spare time.
At Wynbridge?
It's about Cromwell.
Cromwell?!
Wynbridge has one of the ruins he knocked about a bit.
And you think he's a nice subject to spend your time on?
Cromwell's a very neglected character.
Not in Ireland!
Ah...Ireland!
Don't say "ah...Ireland" like that... Do you know what he did to us?
I know he was an underrated general.
He was a wicked murdering blackguard!
I'm only considering him from a military point of view.
Who cares about "a military point of view"?
Me.
You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
My father's great-great grandfather knew him well.
It's getting a bit remote, isn't it?
There's nothing remote about it!
If you go to my country, you can see what he did to us.
And you sit there and make stupid jokes about him.
I'm only writing a thesis!
I don't care what it is... And I don't care what lies you tell me...
As long as you don't pretend you came here...
...to write a lot of nonsense about a black soul like him.
We don't seem to be getting along very well, do we?
Perhaps we better go back.
No...not yet...it's very early.
What?
I'm sorry I lost me temper like that...
It's just that...
Couldn't we forget it...maybe?
You know...you're very difficult to understand.
Are you sure you're quite straightforward yourself?
I suppose it wasn't you who slapped the paint on Cromwell's statue the other night?
Now why would I do a terrible thing like that?
Where would I get the paint?
If you smiled at me like that, and I was the local paint merchant...
...I'd give you the run of the shop
I'm sitting on a thistle.
I thought I was going to land an Intelligence job like yours, once...
...but it never worked out.
It depends where you are, of course.
Til last month , I was stuck in north Scotland.
Absolute dead end.
It couldn't be worse than it is here.
Lucky, I managed to wag a transfer.
There's much more scope where I am now...
I mean...take a little job like this...
There's nothing to it, is there? But who knows?...
It's not what you're doing in the army that counts...
It's what you're noticed doing.
Good evening, Sergeant...
Yes, the body-receipt for your signature, Sir.
Thank you.
I don't know why they always have to fix these jobs at night.
Same thought occurred to me, Sir.
Not exactly a prepossessing figure for an ace spy...is he?
I don 't know about that, Sir... He's a nasty piece of work.
I'll be glad to see the last of him.
- All correct Sergeant? - All correct Sir.
- Goodnight to you, Sergeant. - Goodnight, Sir.
Wheel him into the RTO's office, Sergeant.
Fall in, the new escort.
Right turn.
Late, aren't you, Sergeant?
Yes, Sir...we were held up by some haycart, Sir...
Thought at first it might be dirty-work.
Can I see your identity card, Sir?
What was it?
Just some fool trying to get too big a cart through too small a gate.
Ah...here he is.
Good evening.
This is not Pryce!
You just collected him from the van.
Call the prison at once, Sergeant... Find out what's happened.
- You hold the van. - I think it's left.
I heard the engine running.
New escort...take them off.
Right turn.
Quick march.
That was Pryce in that car, beside the driver.
Of course I'm sure! Is another car about?
The RTO's...there.
Start it up right away.
Get on to HQ...tell them Pryce has escaped with another man in a Rover14.
Get them to throw a cordon around the entire district.
Now move, man!
It's just struck 9... Your watch must be slow.
You can't have counted right.
I counted 9.
So it made 9 or 10... What does it matter?
What do you mean, what does it matter?
Well, does it?
Doesn't it?
My dear, I could stay here forever.
You haven't anything else to do?
Not a thing.
Apart from checking up on a gentleman who's not mentioned around here.
Are you telling me the truth?
Of course, darling...why?
You've got me here under false pretences!
What?
Oh, what a fool I've been!
Of all the low, mean tricks!
This is terrible... I'm going home!
What the devil's the matter?
What is it?
Bridie...come back!
Here, wait a minute!
Well...how long do you think we've got?
Until 3 in the morning... when they get Freddy to London.
The only man who might have tumbled was an Intelligence officer...
...but I drew him off with a woman.
How they pick these fellows is beyond me.
I checked up on the town too... I didn't smell a thing.
I suppose I should have been outside when the van arrived.
That's what I was thinking.
You won't be the only one.
Yes, I had the whole thing sewn up, when they caught me.
And I still have, too... if we can get at it.
Do you know what to do?
No, but they wouldn't have sent for ME, if it wasn't pretty big.
It's big, right enough.
Can't you go any faster?
The engine's governed... she won't do more than 40mph.
Won't catch up with them then?
No.
We turn left here, somewhere...
That must be it.
Hullo!...What's happening there?
It's an army truck...can't turn here.
Hullo...who is it...who's there?
There's someone there on the right.
That looks like the car, Sir.
Yes, it's them alright...Rover14.
Halt or I'll fire!
Did they get you?
I think I'm out of this.
Everything is in a notebook in the Isle of Man.
Get out!
I could have understood it, if you'd gone off the deep end.
But carrying-on in this way...
You might at least give me a clue.
Say something!
I don't care what it is.
Anything! But something!
It's all very well striding along like a sulky duchess...
But I consider I'm the injured party.
You can't go on like this... there are limits.
I never expect women to behave properly... but this is fantastic!
Absolutely...utterly...fantastic!
What are YOU doing here?
Has he gone?
Yes, he's gone.
But he's not an Intelligence man at all.
He's an ordinary English officer on sick leave.
I've never been so humiliated in my life.
It was a terrible mistake...
I've been shot.
Give me a cigarette.
I'll fetch a doctor.
Give me a cigarette and keep your voice down.
Nothing can save me... short of an operation...I know that.
There's a bullet inside me.
How do you know?
Because it didn't come out.
Give me a light.
Apart from which, they'd never get me on the table in time.
Your hand's trembling...
Please try to control yourself... I've got a lot to tell you.
And there isn't time to say it.
Sit down and concentrate.
I dislike giving orders like these to a girl of your age...
...but I've no choice.
Neither have you.
You understand me?
Now listen carefully.
Something went wrong.
Pryce is now either dead or in custody.
He passed everything on to me.
He was originally arrested in the visitors' gallery of the Tynwald Court in the Isle of Man.
He managed to hide the notebook with the information in the seating at the end of the second row, on the right.
Remember that... Second row on the right.
You want ME to go to the Isle of Man?
No...you'll take my place and meet someone on the train which leaves Wynbridge at 7.45 tomorrow morning.
And pass on what I've told you.
And how will I know him?
He'll be in the 1st class non-smoker of the northern section.
1st class non-smoker of the northern section.
There's only one such compartment.
Well, how will he be dressed?
I don't know...he's the next link in the chain.
You'll ask to have the window halfway down...
And whoever it is...it may be a woman...
...will reply they have no objection, for 10 minutes, because the carriage is stuffy.
You'll both get out at the next station.
I ask to have the window halfway down...
He'll reply it'll be alright for 10 minutes.
Pick up my coat.
In the wallet you'll find 3 blank identity cards...
You may need them.
There's also some money and a photograph.
If you get a chance after the war... you might get in touch with the lady.
Madame Astanov, at the Hotel Splendide, Bucharest.
Tell her I died for Germany.
It'll amuse her.
I've left the worst 'til last.
The worst?
I'm afraid it's a trifle gruesome...
But you see, if my body were found here...
...everyone would be under suspicion.
You'd be arrested.
Perhaps shot.
What can I do?
Dispose of me.
Cigarette's gone out.
What is it now?
What's happened to Bridie?
I been waiting here for me airing since 7 o'clock.
Well, it's her half day off... You know that.
Nobody considers ME!
I promised to play old Brockway a game of backgammon at 9.
Well, you'll just have to wait, that's all.
The bar's bung-full of Home Guards... and I'm run off my feet.
Bridie...Just a moment!
Will you leave me alone!?
I want a word with you.
In the ordinary run of things, I'm an easygoing type...
I said, will you leave me alone!?
No...I won't.
You're not going to get away with this, you know.
If nothing else, I owe it to all the other mugs that come after me.
Look, will you leave me, if I promise to see you when I get back?
Well, now we're getting somewhere.
I'll wait for you in the lounge... How long will you be?
I don't know.
Well, I shouldn't take the old boy far, on a night like this.
I'll never do it... I know I won't.
It's another half mile before I get out of the town... someone's bound to see me.
What then? It's very dark.
I might...I might!
Hello sweetheart!
Taking the old 'n out for his constitutional?
You're from "The George" aren't you?
It's nothing to do with you!
Thought you might fancy the benefit of the company...
I'm going your way.
I don't want your company.
- Oh...come on... - Go away, will you!
Listen, sweetheart... you got me all wrong!
I'm not that sort of fellow. I never take no for an answer.
Goodnight, Miss.
I thought he was annoying you.
He was.
How's Mr Edwards, tonight.
He's fallen asleep.
Between you and me, he's been looking a bit seedy lately.
I don't think he'll be with us much longer.
Taking him down the cliff road for a bit of sea air?
Want to cross over?
Yes, I do please.
OK...just a minute.
Goodnight, Miss.
Hullo!...What's happened to Bridie?
Hasn't she come back yet?
I shall have to take you out myself, I suppose.
Is that you, Bridie?
Yes.
Come here a minute, will you. I want you.
So you've condescended to come back at last!
I've been waiting here for you since half past seven.
I promised old Brockway a game of... Here! Here! Where are you going?
Help me clear these things away... there's a good girl.
Ada's rushed off again, as usual.
And then take Grandad out... He's getting grouchy.
He's been out.
He was complaining just now.
I don't know what's come over him lately.
He forgets everything. I took him out half an hour ago.
Well, I don't know...really!
This is too much!
Come on, let's get these things out of te way.
I think we'll leave the rest 'til the morning.
My feet are killing me.
I'm going to bed, too.
That's right...don't mind me! Clean up the bar...powder your face!
Just a minute, Bridie!
Darn a few stockings...I can wait.
Don't be silly, Grandad... she's going to bed.
About the morning...
Lieutenant Baynes is leaving first thing... He's catching the 8 o'clock.
Eh...what's that? Going to bed?
What about my airing?
But she's taken you out, Grandad... You know that very well.
What are you talking about?
I haven't moved from this chair.
I've been waiting here hour after hour...
...While she's been out... gadding about.
What's all the shrugging?
What are you two up to!
We're not up to anything.
She's taken you out half an hour ago.
What's the matter with you?
There's nothing the matter with me!
I ought to know whether I've been out or not.
Didn't I call you half an hour ago, Ethel?
And again, just now?
Yes, that's true.
You can't have forgotten... I pushed you down Cross St and back.
Cross Street?
Did I ever check with old Smart the butcher about backing a horse in The Derby, next week?
Yeah...something like that.
I didn't then, see... The Derby was run last week...
And old Smart's in bed with pneumonia.
Caught you out, haven't I?
Well it must have been somebody else... I wasn't paying much attention.
She's lying! She didn't take me out!
She hasn't been near me!
I may be an old fool... but I'm not that bad.
I tell you, she's got some reason for lying like this.
Have you ever seen Bessie asleep, when she hasn't been out for a walk?
Grandad...I simply don't know what's come over you.
You'd better call Lieut. Baynes at 7.
-Goodnight, dear. -Goodnight.
I can't talk to you...I'm sorry.
You've something on your mind, haven't you?
Will you let me go to bed, please!?
Bridie...You came back with an empty chair.
I took Grandfather out... You saw me.
He got out of the chair and walked in a minute before...
Does that satisfy you?
- Whatever the answer is... - I've given it to you!
Blast it!
A first-class non-smoker of the northern section.
This is it, girl!
Is that seat taken, please?
No.
Would you like a sandwich?
They're not Spam!
No, thanks.
What was I saying then?
About that Miss Butlin and the nice young man in the Sun Insurance.
Yes...of course they've known each other for years...
...bought a house in Kingston...
Then he went off and joined the RAF...
..and she went into the ADN and now...
...he's marrying a girl from Rhodesia..
..and she's going out with a married man.
from the Ministry of Home Security...
Oh, it's dreadful the things war does to people.
They would have made such a nice couple, too.
The man she's going with is twice her age.
Awful shame!
Of course, her mother's dreadfully cut up.
I was talking to her about it last Sunday...
...At church. Her brother won't speak to her.
Home Security he's in... fat lot of home security about him!
He's a pretty blunt sort, the brother...
It's a pity he couldn't knock some sense into her.
Bit late now of course after the damage is done.
I wonder...would you mind if I...
Now how can I ask to have the window halfway down, like Mr Miller said...
...when it's halfway up already.
Could I have the window up, please?
Where was I, dear?
About that man from the Ministry of Home Security.
Of course, normally, one should get a divorce.
Of course, I don't think he's the type, dear.
Too fond of himself.
You know what I mean.
Most men are like that.
I've been thinking it over...
Would you mind if we had the window halfway down, after all, please.
Would you mind?
Not at all, young lady, not at all.
Thank you.
Isn't anybody going to say anything at all?
Is nobody going to say they have no objection to the window being down for 10 minutes?
Oh, come on somebody... speak will you!
Have you no sense at all?
Haven't I done everything Mr Miller told me...I have!
What am I going to do now?
I'm very sorry...we must ask you to get out at this station, please.
I don't think an explanation will be necessary.
You know who we are.
Come along now.
I haven't any idea what you're talking about.
Still, if you insist.
My bag's on the rack there.
Be careful please... there are some eggs in it.
I thought I'd give you a shock.
I just made it at Wynbridge.
Scrambled on at the last minute and came up against a locked door.
Actually I wasn't going to leave today...
But when I saw you skipping off, from my bedroom window...
I wondered what the devil was the matter.
Couldn't figure it out at all...
And of course after last night... anything might happen...
I remember hearing the most extraordinary clatter...
I've never heard anything like it...
That old lady was the one I had to meet!
She must have known those men were detectives...
...and going to arrest her.
Oh, it's horrible.
If only I could keep me knees still... and think!
I know about something on the Isle of Man... and not a living soul to tell it to.
Mr Miller's dead.
Even if he weren't, it's very hard to see how I'm helping the cause of Ireland at all.
I shall go home out of harm's way...
..and nobody will ever...
You were wheeling a body out, to bury it.
What did you say?
I simply said I don't know what you were pushing out in that wheelchair.
Might have been a bunch of paint cans...
...or a boyfriend who'd committed suicide...
...in understandable desperation!
And you were wheeling his body out, to bury it.
I see.
Do you WANT to get off at this station?
Not particularly.
Any station suits me.
Well get back on the train will you please, I'm only changing here for Holyhead.
Give me that case.
You're going to Ireland, then.
Got your exit permit?
Oh, no...I never thought of that.
You can get one in Liverpool. What are you having...coffee?
How long will it take to get a permit?
Oh...a couple of days or so.
Two coffees, please.
Do you want anything to eat?
No thanks.
You know...you're a very aggravating man...
I don't understand you at all.
There are quite a few things about YOU that don't make sense.
I know we've been over it all before.
But I think you've got yourself into a mess of some sort...
And I'd like to help you.
I know it's nothing to do with ME.
You can choke me off if you want to.
But you must have a reason for leaving Wynbridge in such a hurry this morning.
It may not have been anything serious.
Probably wasn't.
But if there's anything I can do to help...
Hang on...What is it now?
That train goes to Manchester... I can change there for Liverpool.
You can get one direct.
Let's catch this one please.
If I'm included, I'll catch anything.
You've tries every other hotel in Liverpool, I suppose.
I may have missed one or two.
They always come here as a last resort.
That's 22...23.
No porter...no hot water... Breakfast at 8 sharp.
Fish-cakes.
Goodnight.
I can't think why you're wasting your leave...
...trailing around Liverpool with me.
Now, it'll be round here.
Why are you doing it?
I suppose you've forgotten what you said to me yesterday...
...out on that hill.
Whatever I said... I never meant it seriously.
I might have taken it seriously.
You think it's a proper time to talk about things like that?
Walking along a dirty hotel corridor looking at numbers on bedroom doors.
Perhaps not...here we are...22.
Unless you'd prefer 23?
It's a mater of indifference to me.
Goodnight.
See you at fish-cakes.
"A person's believed to be concerned in the escape".
That's me!
I don't like this place.
It's the sort of room where murders are committed by commercial men.
They shall have another murder, I reckon...
I can feel it coming on.
It's a comfort to know the lad is next door.
He's English...but he's nice and solid... and behaves like a gentleman.
I did lock the door, didn't I?
He's talking nonsense of course...
When he says he might be serious about me.
But why shouldn't he be?
Terence Delaney was...
Why shouldn't he be deeply and beautifully in love with me?
What would your father say...
...if he could listen in to the awful thoughts you're entertaining.
Tomorrow morning you'll go straight to the passport office...
...and get that permit...
"In view of large-scale troop movements...
...dangerous spies in Eire.
Dangerous spies in Eire!
Could I get a job there? No, I had to come to England.
Isn't that just like the English?
Always looking next door for something wrong...
..and never looking in their own back parlour.
So they're going to stop me returning to my native land, are they?
Alright...alright...
I'll go to the Isle of Man, so I will...
And I'll find out what's there...
And I'll smuggle myself back to Ireland and I'll take it to the German minister.
I'll do something with it.
Now calm yourself and go to sleep.
How can I go to sleep, when I'm in the state I'm in?
I'll count sheep going over a stile.
1-2-3...
Aah...they've all got the face of him next door.
I'll turn them into goats.
1..2...
Oh, I'm in no mood to be counting animals!
What's that?
Who's there?!
I said... Who's there?
What's happening?
Oh, David!
Bridie...What on earth's the matter?
What is it?... You're trembling all over.
Put that light out!
What was it, Bridie?
It's nothing...nothing at all.
Now, pull yourself together, darling.
I am together... What are you doing here, anyway?
- You screamed. - I did not!
I heard you.
it must have been somebody else. Don't stand there gaping at me like that!
Tell me the truth.
There's nothing to tell you... I'm alright!
Good morning.
Can you tell me please where I catch the boat to the Isle of Man?
You get the train to Preston, love... and you change there for Fleetwood.
Do you want your bill?
Oh, yes please.
Looks like the track of a wheelchair to me.
Simple enough to trace, if it is.
Can't be many wheelchairs in Wynbridge.
Not like Bournemouth.
Red, blue and green dress...
And fawn coat.
Thanks very much.
Have you got the girl's description?
Yes I have, Sir.
She apparently spent the night before last in a hotel in Liverpool.
Left at 6 the following day to catch a boat to the Isle of Man.
Isle of Man? Get onto Investigation, there.
She'd be easy enough to run to the ground on a small island like that.
Yes, Sir.
Give me the Investigation Officer, Isle of Man, will you.
Capt. Goodhusband, isn't it?
It is.
Good thing it's a small island.
No sense in starting before then... you know what these things are.
Everything's laid on, old man... all you have to do is report here.
It usually takes about an hour before things get going.
That turning on the left, off Strand St...
It's difficult to make a snap decision on a question like that...
I'll ask Spanswick.
Spanswick...Marjorie's on the line about the dance tonight...
Hold on a minute.
She wants to know whether to wear the backless blue or the frontless white.
Really, old man!
The blue.
Say Lt. Spanswick of Home Investigations sent you.
Spanswick favours the blue.
Then bring the bottle straight back here.
Colonel Dennington's on the blower from Whitehall.
The devil he is!
Well put him through at once... and bring your notebook in.
Goodbye dear...must ring off now... business you know!
I say...I wonder what that young upstart wants.
Some flap or other, I'll bet.
Last time he got in touch with us was when we were at Lerwick...
To carry on about that submarine crew that had escaped.
Behaved most unreasonably, I thought.
We caught the cook!
Well whoever was to blame, old man, we've done nothing since we've been here.
Might be that, of course.
Hello, Sir!
Goodhusband here!
I want you to arrest a girl of the name of Quilty.
Bridie Quilty.
She landed on the island from Fleetwood, yesterday afternoon.
I'll give you her description.
Age 21...height 5'4"...
Hair dark brown...
Eyes blue...
Fresh complexion.
Irish accent.
Fawn coat...
Red, green or blue dress...
Got that, darling?
Corporal?
Roughly.
Oh, it may take a little longer than that, Sir.
You can be quite sure we'll do out best.
Right, Sir.
I'll ring you back at once.
Goodbye, Sir.
Curious man, Colonel Dennington.
Difficult to see how we can do better than our best.
He expects us to pick up the girl in a matter of hours.
Your experience should count, old man.
it's all very well sitting up there in Whitehall, jabbering a lot of instructions.
They don't have to face the problems.
I suppose, the best thing to do is check up all the hotels and boarding houses.
It would take weeks old man... especially from a vague description like this.
There are packets of girls on this island...
...looking like that and talking with an Irish accent.
Not even a squint or a birthmark to jolly things along.
Look down there for instance... crossing the road to the Tynwald Court...
She could easily fit the description.
Right height, fawn coat, brown hair...
...typically Irish.
You meet them at every turn, old man.
This is where the laws of the Isle of man are made, my dear.
It's the oldest parliament in the world.
Old Johnny here's taking a photo for the post-war guidebook.
You might be in it if you're lucky.
We don't get many young people here these days.
They seem to prefer the pictures.
Old Tim Kelly there...he was a great one for the pictures, until they started talking.
So now he comes here for his nap.
I hope you enjoy yourself.
There's plenty of room in the front row, Miss.
This is fine, thank you.
You know, Miss...that seat you're sitting in has a story attached to it.
They caught a spy in it a few weeks back.
Hasn't been such a rumpus in the House...
...since they put the income tax up from two bob to half a crown.
Tim...time you were getting back to the office.
Oh, thanks.
Don't move! Stay where you are!
Thank you!
"20 yards on left Rue de la Gare."
"Down steps, Cafe Antoine."
What would they be doing with a French town on the Isle of Man?
Sure it doesn't make any sense at all.
"4 miles north of Ramsey."
Now what in the world would the explanation of it be?
It's behind barbed wire and packed with the British army...
But the book says a French town.
Why?
The invasion!
Now what would they be doing here if they weren't getting ready for the invasion?
And where would they be getting ready?
Supposing...aye, it would all fit in...
Supposing they'd made up a town like some town on the French coast.
And these notes of Mr Pryce's...
The advertisement on the wall...
The Rue de la Gare and the steps...
Down to the Cafe Antoine.
If the Germans had these notes, they could tell which town this was.
And when the invasion happened...
...the Germans would be ready for them.
Waiting with all their guns, to mow them down.
What desperate thing are you getting into?
You're holding thousands of lives in your hands.
British lives.
Irish lives.
It's the Book of Fate itself you're carrying.
You'll find the register quite in order, I'm sure...
I'm most strict.
May we cast an eye on it?
Yesterday's arrivals... Just a routine enquiry, you know.
I don't recollect the name.
From there down.
Any single women amongst them?
18, 64 and 33.
Miss Bagget says 15 and 77 count two.
I hope this doesn't mean that someone has escaped from the internment camp...
...and is staying in the hotel.
If the food I had here is anything to go by...
...they've been more likely to have escaped from the hotel...
...and beat it for the internment camp.
I say, Goodhusband...
That's the girl we saw crossing the road to the Tynwald Court.
When did she arrive?
Yesterday afternoon.
What's her name?
Baynes.
Mrs David Baynes.
From Kings Square, South Westmead.
Mmm...married...pity!
I wonder.
There won't be a fire in the room... I shall have to start one.
How long will it take to burn?
5 minutes...more?
Oh, hurry, lift! Hurry!...
I've all the troubles of the world on me shoulders.
Good evening...may we come in a moment?
I say, I hope we're not frightening you.
Just a little routine check on identity cards... a mere formality.
Do you mind?
No...of course not.
Sorry to bother you and all that.
On holiday?
Yes.
Lovely weather for it.
Red tape, you know.
Very pleasant hotel, this.
Lovely view.
Terrible grub.
Mind if I smoke?
No.
There's a dance here tonight.
Is there?
Yes...jolly affairs as a rule.
May look in myself later on.
Are you finished with that?
Staying long, Mrs Baynes?
A few days... Will that be all?
Yes, that's all, thank you.
Hello, darling...holding a reception?
Good evening...
You're...
Her husband.
Just a routine enquiry, you know.
Check on identity cards.
Really?
I think that's all, isn't it Spanswick?
Yes.
Well, goodnight, Mrs Baynes.
How did you know?
Hotel register.
Where did you get this?
Do you realise you can go to prison for forging an identity card?
What made you do it?
It's nothing to do with you... It's my business.
It's my name.
A small point perhaps.
Isn't like an Englishman... to niggle about a thing like that?!
Bridie...it's no use behaving like a child.
You've committed a very serious offence...
...and I think I should know what it's all about.
Oh, you do?
So, you think if you stand there and insult me long enough, I'll tell you...
Well, I won't...so there's no sense in your staying any longer.
Is there?
Do you hear me?
I'm asking you to go...please.
Do you want me to ring the bell and have you thrown out?
They're very short-staffed these days.
Oh, why are you behaving like this?
Can't you see I'm miserable enough already?
I don't know why you came here at all.
I touched on the reason, the other evening.
What reason?
Something you said, that I might have taken seriously.
Oh...that!
Well, I have.
Rubbish!
All you've ever take seriously is yourself, and your high-falutin brotherly instincts.
They're not brotherly... I've examined them very carefully.
I'm in love with you.
Do you know what you're saying?
It's very simple.
Do you know who I am?
Eh?
I'm a retired spy.
I knew that would shock you.
i came here to get something for the Germans...
But I've changed me mind...
Oh, I haven't done any harm...really.
I've destroyed everything...
It's there in the fireplace in ashes... It was something in a notebook.
It just isn't possible!
Oh, yes it is...it's more than possible.. It just is.
Well, don't worry... It's all over and done with now...
I've finished with it forever.
Haven't I?
But Bridie!... Don't you realise the implications?
Of course...and I was very worried about them...I can tell...
What implications?
Well, I'm an army officer...
If this is true, I'll have to report it.
Can I turn down the bed, now?
Thank heavens you're not cheesy...
It's always the same on dance nights...
I've got enough to do in this job, without being kept hovering...
I'll be glad when the war's over and I can go over to Canada...
...that's if he doesn't change his mind.
He was still on in his last letter...
Everything's labour-saving, there...
Well, don't forget your black-out later... goodnight!
What was in that notebook?
A description of a French town they've built here.
Something to do with the invasion, I think.
- You read it? - Some of it.
But I've burnt it now.
I haven't really done any harm, David... and what I did, I've undone..
Haven't I?
Supposing the Germans got hold of you?
How could they?
Someone was in your room in Liverpool.
They'll find you.
Do you think I'd tell them?
They'd get it out of you.
They wouldn't... I swear they wouldn't.
That's what YOU think...
If this is what it sounds like, it's dynamite!
So long as you're running round, the whole thing may be in danger...
You must see that!
If I hand you over, I'm practically signing your death warrant...
But what else...what alternative is there?
If only you'd told me earlier... I might have...
What's the good of talking about it now... it's gone too far.
Why the devil couldn't you...
Will you buy a raffle ticket?
Hello my dear...I wondered if I'd see you.
A bit crowded isn't it?
I say...where's your husband?
He's not my husband.
Not!?...Oh dear...
Would your friend like one too, Sir?
Yes...thank you.
The boy's up to some new stunt for raising the wind.
I wanted to see you...
Yes, I quite understand how these things are...
211...adds up to 4...my lucky number... come on...let's dance.
Please, there's something...
Something on your mind, dear? There's something on mine, too!
Let's forget it...
Let's forget dull care and dance the flaming hours away with flying feet!
Not that mine are exactly flying, you know.
Would you like a ticket for the raffle?
Had a devil of a day.
Duty's all very well, but it can be carried too far.
A man must have some relaxation.
I want to talk to you... There's something I must tell you!
I can't very well tell you here...
Can't hear a word you're saying!
You're wonderfully light on your feet, my dear.
Gossamer...that's what it is!
Please listen to me... It's terribly important.
I'm the girl you're looking for.
Marjorie!...
Bad show, that...friend of mine.
Asked her to meet me here and forgot all about it.
Thoughtless of me too... works in a wine store.
Oh, please... I can't go on like this!
I've come down here to see you because I want to tell you...
Warm here, tonight...
What happened to Miller?
Hello, old man...
I say, you remember that girl in room 47...
Is she here now?
Yeah...rather! I've just been dancing with her.
That identity card's a fake, old man.
I don't think that remark terribly amusing, Lieutenant Spanswick!
There's no such person as Mrs David Baynes.
How do you know?
I've just checked up.
No such number... No such address.
She travelled on the right boat and answered the right description...
It's a million to one she's the right girl.
Where is she now?
Oh...dancing with some type.
A lovely girl like that.
What are we going to do?
Grab her when she comes off the floor, of course.
Ladies and gentlemen...here are the winning numbers of the Army Comforts raffle.
Now will everybody gather round please.
We'll have to wait 'til this breaks up.
No. 211 wins the first prize...
No. 211.
Your unlucky day, old man.
Just missed the prize by one!
Yes, I bought her a ticket, too.
What number?
211.
She's won, then.
Curious situation.
Will No.211 please come up and receive the 1st prize...
...of 10 War Saving Certificates.
I don't like the look of this.
Have you got men posted?
Hennessy and James are in the lounge.
What the devil's the use of that?
Haven't you got any common sense?
Are you accusing me of incompetence?
My dear fellow, I'm accusing you of nothing.
If the cap fits...
In your case, old man, it looks like being a bowler hat!
Will the owner of ticket 211 please raise their hand!
2-1-1!
Has anybody got 211?... Up there at the bar, perhaps.
Now just for a change...let's have the truth.
Listen Steve, the kid's not talking...that's obvious.. But he may with a little persuasion.
If he knows anything.
Time enough to find out...
The submarine's not picking us up 'til Wednesday.
One passenger's enough...
We got to get across half Ireland... to the Derry coast.
Might be worthwhile... It's a good-conduct pass with the girl.
I'll handle this my own way.
Are we playing poker, or aren't we?
Somebody is.
I'm not sure it's us.
What do you make of it, Michael?
Smugglers, maybe.
Or German spies.
I read in the English newspapers that they're swarming all over Ireland.
It's almost our biggest national industry, man!
Whoever they are, you'd better ring up Garth Crawley at the police station.
Tell him they're coming ashore at Dunraghen.
They'll likely as not take the road past Sean Murphy's to the railway station.
He'll head them off there, if he hurries.
Good morning, Douglas...
You didn't by any chance see four strange men around here?
No.
They landed at Rocklin Bay an hour ago...
Mike Reagan spotted them.
I didn't put much stock in it myself until I phoned headquarters.
Terribly excited they were.
Tell me what time's the next train.
Goes 4.30.
Maybe they'll turn up for it.
I'll be back.
Tell me, what's Sean Murphy's cab doing today?
I don't know.
I thought he was in Drogheda.
Well, goodbye now.
Has he gone yet?
Going...Lucky I spotted him.
Puts paid to us catching the 4.30 though.
Looks like we're stuck with Sean Murphy's cab.
Where do you think your taking us now?
Shut up.
What's the trouble?... Can't we go any faster?
Something in front.
Well, give him a shout... Ask him to pull in.
It's a funeral...no room to pass.
Alright...alright! Turn off at the next by-road!
Whoa up there!
What is it?
It's the police... They've stopped the procession.
Carry on!
We're off again.
They must have asked if we'd passed.
Good thing we hadn't.
We'd better hang on to this show for a while... It has its points.
Why did you follow me?
Nasty habit!
We can't hang about here all day.
Take the next fork to the left... Whatever it is.
There's a policeman on the corner.
Alright...carry on as you are.
Don't try anything!
Now what's happened?
Perhaps they've stopped for a drink... I could do with one.
They're taking the deceased back to Doonpadrig... where she was born.
The permit's in order.
It's me poor wee sister Bridget... a good poor soul.
Never did any harm to anyone.
From Doonpadrig, eh?
That's the truth.
Take me...said she, and bury me...said she, in the little graveyard behind the hill.
Tell me...do you happen to know Robert Moore from Doonpadrig?
Is it the "Hard Bob"?
Isn't Bob's uncle a first cousin of me daughter-in-law's!?
I knew him in '32 when he was at Backincuren.
You know there's a travel ban... other side of the border.
I know that, but I've permits to cover the whole party.
Do you want to see them?
It doesn't concern us... but you better get a move on...
...if you want to be in Doonpadrig before nightfall.
Aye...well I'll remember you to Bob, so I will.
What's the explanation of that?
That was me sister Bridget's last wish... to be buried with her alarm clock.
Open it up!
The Devil take you, if you lay a finger on it!
Have you no respect for the dead?
It's nothing short of blasphemy and sacrilege!
It's a wicked crime you'll be perpetrating!
Oh, me poor Bridget!
Beat it!
Hop it, lads... We're rumbled!
What's going on?
A fight of some sort.
We can't afford to get mixed up in anything.
Get out of it...quick!
My daughter, Biddy, is in the last carriage...
Pick her up and I'll meet you at Craig's farm.
Are you Mike Cleary's daughter Biddy?... you're to come with me.
Where's this, do you think?
No idea...Seems to be the only hotel in the place...
I'll ask them the way to the border.
The border? What are you going to do with me, David?
Take you across... into Northern Ireland.
And hand me over?
I must, Bridie.
You're not going to take me out of a neutral country where I belong...
...so that I can be...tried and shot!
It's my duty.
It's your stiff-necked British obstinacy... that's what it is!
Look here!...We're fighting a war!
At the moment you're endangering part of it...
Can't you see? You're a menace that's got to be neutralised!
I was born neutralised!
Well, now that you seem to have made up your mind...
...why don't you go in and ask?
Go on...tap on the hatch!
That's right!...
Yes, sir...now what can I do for you?
Ask him!
Is there any whiskey?
No...it's nothing but draught beer.
Alright...2 halves.
2 half pints.
I thought you were going to ask him the way to the border.
I am.
Thanks.
How far is it to the nearest police station?
About a mile and a half up the road.
Where's your telephone?
In the back parlour...why?
I want you to telephone them.
It's important, and I can't leave this young lady.
Oh, you can't, can you?
Tell them she's the one they're looking for.
She's here waiting for them. Her name's Bridie Quilty.
Bridie Quilty...will they know it?
By now, they will.
I said it's important.
Right.
Do you know what you're doing?
Of course...behaving like a gibbering idiot.
When the police get here they'll intern me.
Exactly.
Here in Eire, where you'll be safe, and can't do any harm.
But what about YOU?
I'll say goodbye when they get here.
But those 2 officers on the Isle of Man...
...they know you've been concerned with...
...with ME!
Yes.
The War Office is going to object, isn't it?
Oh, no, no... I'll probably get a gong for it.
You'll be shot!
Oh, hardly! Merely cashiered, drummed out and imprisoned in The Tower.
Why are you doing this?
I've probably gone mad.
Well, I'm not going to let you.
You're not going to have any choice.
They're on their way.
They'll be here any time now. I was speaking to Micky Doyle.
Himself...he's the sergeant.
Good.
From what he says, she must be a desperate character altogether.
She is, very.
Thank you.
That'll be 1/8d Sir
1/6d for the beers... and 2d for the telephone.
You wouldn't be wanting any help with her, would you?
No! Go away.
David...
Yes?
I AM sorry!
You'd much better never have met me.
I'd do the same again.
Couldn't you let yourself get interned with me, maybe?
No.
Sláinte!
How much is draught beer in Eire?
4d a half pint, for this stuff.
They charged me double...1/6d.
Then he cheated you.
And no spirits.
Does it matter, at a time like this?
Bridie..look at that girl...
She's chewing gum.
Hi ya slick chick...what's cookin'?
Oh, lay off, Al!
We're in Northern Ireland!
Say, what's been giving you, kid?
He wouldn't let me go until 9, honey.
Gonna be mighty late for that dance.
It'll be OK, they don't start til late over the other side.
Yeah, but by the time we get there...
Listen to me high pockets, just let me get my handbag...
...and we'll be south of that little old border in 10 minutes.
- Right on the ball, ain't you babe? - You're darned tootin'!
David...that means you must have telephone the British police.
The Ulster Constabulary.
You heard what they said... it's only a 10 minutes' walk.
If they can slip over for a dance, there's nothing to stop us.
No, David, it seems like Heaven's will that we'll be caught...
...and here I'll stay.
- But we can be over the border in 10 minutes... - It's no use telling me...
I've made up me mind...
...and all the powers on earth won't make me change it.
Bridie...for heaven's sake, be sensible.
Now sit down, and take it easy.
They'll be here any minute!
And we'll met them together, tell them the truth...
...and hope for the best.
There's nothing they can do to you now...
There's no reason why you shouldn't feel as happy as I feel...
...now that me mind's at peace for a change.
- Bridie... - Give me your hand, David...
Now, we'll sit here quietly and enjoy the last few minutes we have together...
Just the two of us.
Alone.
Excuse me!
This is the BBC Home Service...
Here is the news, read by John Snaid...
D-Day has come...
Early this morning the Allies began the assault
on the Northwest corner of Hitler's European fortress.
It's started!
- Then there's no reason... - No! Not now!
The border!
Up here!
- Mind how you go, Sugar! - Oh there she goes!
Alright?
Yes.
Where is she?
She's in the saloon.
That's funny...she was here a minute ago.
Goodbye!
Goodbye David!
Could be in the lounge or in the back parlour.
Go with him to the back parlour, Pat.
Easy now, gentlemen!
Open the door at once!
Come out!
- That was couple of swell dishes! - I'll say!
I am glad we stopped here instead of going on to Hereford.
Did you notice my hand trembling when I wrote "Mr & Mrs Baynes."?
I'll slip down and put the car away.
Well!...of all the...!
Bridie!...
What the Devil are you up to?
How dare you do a thing like this to me?
I won't stop in this place, so I won't...
Not if the sky itself were to fall down on the top of me head...
I won't stop in it!
Subtitles by FatPlank for KG.