Another Year Page #4

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MAN:

It's only me!

- Bugger off!

- Hello, Tom, mate.

Hiya, Gerri, love.

- Hi, Ken, how are you?

- I'm all right.

- Oh, crushed ribs.

- Sorry.

- Give us your bag.

- I'm bursting for a pee.

I'll just run upstairs. Is that all right?

I'll put it on your bed.

You're in Joe's room.

- Ooh, that's better. I needed that.

- I'll take your coat.

Thanks, mate.

- Ooh, Gerri.

- Careful, Ken.

- Would you like a beer?

- Oh, I'd love one, ta.

Hup! Ha, ha, ha!

(chuckles)

- Maniacs.

- Oh...

Mm.

Mm.

- It's great this.

- Thank you.

Mm!

Better?

I haven't eaten since breakfast.

- Haven't you?

- No.

It's great to see you both. Cheers.

Cheers.

Cheers.

(laughter)

- Mm.

GERRI:
So how's your flat, Ken?

Oh, same old, same old.

You employed a cleaner yet?

If I got a cleaner in, she'd turn round,

walk straight out again.

It might give her a purpose in life.

- Bit of a mess, but it suits me.

GERRI:
Yeah.

Five minutes walk to work.

I usually get the bus, but if I'm late,

I have to leg it, if I miss the bus.

I stop at the caff to pick up breakfast.

I have a croissant

if they haven't got any iced buns.

Cup of tea.

I have to smuggle it in.

Just because of that Steve.

He's a right fascist.

TOM:
That's your boss, isn't it?

- Yeah, my boss.

My supervisor.

- Is he still there?

KEN:
Oh, yeah.

He's only been with us three...

no, two years.

35, looks 12, treats me like a child.

Bloody graduate.

- You're a graduate.

- We're all graduates, aren't we?

- Oh, yeah, so we are!

GERRI:
You forgot.

Would you like some salad, Ken?

- No, no. I'm all right, ta.

GERRI:
Sure?

I mean, you spend nearly 40 years trying to get

people out of the dole queue and into jobs.

What thanks do you get? I'm sick of it!

At your age, you can walk away, can't you?

Hm. I don't know.

You've got a good retirement package.

Index linked pension.

- I could have gone two years ago.

- Why didn't you?

- It's not that easy, is it?

- Isn't it?

What would you do with your time

if you retired, Ken?

Pub.

Eat, drink, be merry.

I don't know.

How's Joe?

- He's fine. You'll see him on Sunday.

TOM:
He's well.

Oh, great. Has he got a girlfriend?

GERRI:
No, I don't think so.

TOM:
Not that we know of.

Who else is coming to the barbeque?

Jack and Janey.

Tanya, GP from work.

- Mary.

- Oh, Mary.

Is she?

Then, of course, there's yourself, sir.

The guest of honour.

Hooray!

I don't know about that.

TOM:

What else you been up to?

Oh, nothing much.

Mm! Oh, no, hey.

Guess where I went the other week.

- Where?

- Hull versus Derby.

- Ho, ho, ho! Who'd you cheer for?

- Derby, of course.

I had to keep quiet,

I got stuck with the home mob.

- Was there owt worth cheering?

- No, it were crap.

I don't think my brother

ever missed one home game.

No. Me and my dad used to stand

with him on the terraces.

You used to leave Carl at your mum's

on a Saturday afternoon. Remember?

Oh, yeah.

You could hear the roar of the crowd

from the front room.

Of course you could.

It was three streets away.

Our house used to shake.

TOM:

Ours did. They all did.

During the Clough glory years, we were

at the centre of the footballing universe.

- You never went.

- I did occasionally.

I wasn't manic, like him.

I don't think Ronnie can afford to go now,

the price of season tickets.

How is Ronnie?

I haven't seen him for years.

- He's 70 now, you know.

KEN:
Is he?

- Carl's 41.

KEN:
Bloody hell.

- Linda's still working.

GERRI:
She's kept him all his life.

- She's worn out, poor woman.

KEN:
Is Carl the same?

As far as we know.

Very sad.

Linda's heartbroken.

TOM:
So's Ronnie.

- He's cut himself off.

I used to have a drink with Ronnie.

When my dad was in the home, I'd

go to Derby, he was always in the pub.

Yep, that's one of the advantages

of being free from the tyranny

of regular employment.

- He never bought a round.

- Are you accusing my brother

- of being a mean bastard?

- Yeah, I am.

- You're right, he is.

- I know.

Mm.

I mean, I...

You get to a certain age...

I can't go to the places I used to.

They don't like old fogies.

- You don't have to go.

KEN:
They're my pubs.

Not any more, they're not.

Except they're not like pubs now,

they're all poncy bars.

TOM:

Exactly, things change.

When I started at work,

we'd all socialise together.

On a Friday night, everybody would go

to the pub for a drink, go for a curry.

But now...

It's hard, isn't it?

I mean, who would I go on holiday with?

There's nobody, let's face it.

The only time I went on holiday

was with Pam.

Spain. Nightmare.

Didn't you go away with Andrea?

No, she went off with her sister.

You remember?

Oh, yeah.

Stood me up, the b*tch.

TOM:

It leaves a nasty taste, doesn't it?

Girls in bikinis covered with suntan oil.

Boys flexing their muscles on the beach.

No, it's not for me.

Oh, I don't know.

Sounds nice.

- (laughs)

- You could try a cultural holiday.

No, I'm not one for culture.

Pub culture.

Young people, young people.

Everything's for young people.

These bars, you know, they're full of

young people shouting about nothing.

I seem to remember you got banned

from a number of pubs in Hull

for shouting about nothing,

when you were a young person.

Right.

(laughs)

"Ken, we like you.

You're a good bloke,

you're good on the darts,

but if you talk about politics again,

you're barred."

No, but these kids,

they're just bloody noisy.

Isle of Wight Festival, 1968.

We were noisy, weren't we?

- We weren't, he was.

- You were noisy.

- You were noisy.

- I know I was noisy.

Remember Plastic Penny?

Plastic Penny.

- Where are they now?

- You fancied Plastic Penny.

It's the young person's prerogative to be noisy.

Yeah, I know, I know.

It's all my own fault.

I'm not meeting the right people.

I'm stuck in a rut.

It's not your fault, Ken.

You are stuck in a rut.

That's why you can't face retirement.

KEN:

Yeah, I know.

I'm dreading getting on that train

Sunday night. I always do.

- Why?

- I know what I'll be thinking.

There's nothing for me in Hull any more.

Except my job.

Most of my friends have gone.

Hit you hard when Gordon died, didn't it?

And his wife.

Is she gone?

Yes.

KEN:

Oh, yeah, they're both gone now.

Funnily enough, I was thinking about him

on the way down.

I looked out the windows

when we were in Lincolnshire,

I saw this f***ing tree.

It rem...

It reminded me of his funeral.

(sobs)

Oh, Ken.

Ken.

Ken.

Come on.

(sobs) Gerri, I'm sorry.

It's all right.

I'm sorry, Tom.

How you doing?

- I feel like sh*t.

- You look like sh*t.

I know.

- Apart from that, how are you doing?

- I still feel like sh*t.

(laughs)

I'll race you to the top.

- What?

- Snake Pass, I'll race you.

Oh, yeah.

When was the last time you sat on a bike?

1896, penny-farthing.

(laughs)

I tell you what.

You and me, we'll walk from Edale

to Matlock Bath.

Take as long as it takes.

Stay in nice pubs along the way.

What do you reckon?

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