Ethel & Ernest Page #2

I blooming fear. Not me.

Yard foreman, stuck in a tin shed

all day, adding up rows of figures?

Blow that for a lark. I like the fresh air!

I could have married...

a deep-sea diver.

- Well, why didn't you?

- Because...

I didn't love him.

Why do you keep that picture

of a baby on the wall?

Why do you think?

Well, it's not a relative, is it?

We've been married over two years.

I'll soon be 37.

Oh. Eh.

Don't cry.

I'm sorry.

- Oh, shush, shush, shush.

- Mm.

I know. I know.

Evening Standard. Night news, night news.

Hitler wins power in Germany.

- Here you go, Rich.

- Ta, Ern.

- Evening Standard. - Oh, no.

- Hitler wins power in Germany.

This bloke, Adolf Hitler,

says they're publishing his book over here.

- Mein Kampf, it's called.

- Oh!

That's nice of him.

Huh?

Ette!

- Surprise, dear.

- Oh.

- New mirror!

- It's lovely.

How ever did you get it home?

- I walked it back on my bike pedal.

- How much was it?

Only half a dollar. I got

it off of didicoy down-home.

I've got a surprise for you too.

- Oh, yes?

- I've been to...

um... the doctor.

Oh... And?

- You mean?

- Mm.

- We're...?

- Yeah.

We're going to...?

Yippee!

- I can't believe it.

- Oh, Ette!

- Happy birthday, darling.

- Oh, Ernest.

And your card. They get bigger

every year. This one is all padded.

Bit my best present

isn't due until January.

- More tea, Ette.

- Mm-hm.

One more push, Mrs. Briggs.

Very good.

Goodness gracious me, what a fuss!

You'll wake the neighbours so you will.

Oh, my God! Ette!

Wait!

Steady now, Mr. Briggs.

You will surely not be bringing

those bottles into the birth room.

Sorry, Mrs.... Madam, nurse.

- Is she...?

- It's a boy.

- Is she...?

- Mother is well.

Oh, thank God for that.

Get as much rest as you

can now, Mrs. Briggs.

Baby is doing fine.

Thank you, Doctor.

Hello, Doctor.

Ette.

Oh, Ernest.

Oh!

- When was it?

- About five.

I was just doing Ashland Grove.

Nearly ran out of stelerized.

How do you feel? You

look... you look done in.

Tired.

It's all red.

He. It's a he.

Oh, yes.

Mr. Briggs, a word.

Yes, Doctor.

- It was touch-and-go.

- Oh?

Your wife is 38.

There had better not be any more.

But we wanted a proper family.

More children, no more wife.

I'm sorry.

Good day to you.

Right a bit, Ette. Don't want

the nappies in the picture.

That's it.

Hold it.

I don't have to tell you to smile.

This MP's pleading a

working-class flat should be

built with bathrooms. Labour MP, of course.

They always say if you give

the working-class a bath,

they keep the coal in it.

Oh, yeah? I haven't noticed

much coal in our bath.

Ernest! We are not working class!

Ha!

Oh, it's you.

- Hello, Ette. I've come to see the baby.

- Hm.

Come in.

Oh, how are you, duck?

Ernest, it's your stepmother...

again.

Hello, Mum.

I brought you a couple bottles of stout

and some coal.

Oh, thanks.

Thanks, Mum. No need.

Now, where's my little boy?

Oh, ain't he grown?

This is the BBC in London...

- What?

- ...now follows the news.

German Chancellor Adolf Hitler

announced today new laws that

will forbid Jews remaining

as German citizens...

Hey, Ern, turn that

blessed wireless thing off.

I don't want that man hear what I'm saying.

Prime Minister Chamberlain said

that a new meeting's

going to be held...

Here, Ette, did you know

if you're a Jew in Germany,

you are forbidden to marry a German?

Hm?

I would hate to marry a German.

No...

Cor! This gas copper is a real luxury.

Just turn the tap and strike a match.

BBC's going to start television

later this year.

What's that when it's at home?

Well, it looks like a wireless

set with pictures on top of it.

Moving pictures?

Talkies?

Yeah.

It'll be like going to the

pictures without going out.

What, you just sit and look at it?

- Yeah.

- Hm...

Suppose it might be all

right for the gentry.

Oh!

Oh!

Let's see that nappy, then.

Oh. Another load of washing.

It says the average family

needs 6 week to keep it

above the poverty line.

- What's the poverty line?

- Don't know.

Just wish I earned 6 a week.

Well, with the nipper growing up so fast.

Whee!!

Hey-hey! That's the way to do it, boysie!

Again, again.

Oh, Ernest, he's getting such a big boy.

- No, he's not. He's skinny like me.

- Wiry, Ernest.

And tall and lovely hair.

All those curls.

Oh, look! That's new.

They're serving teas in the balcony.

There's waitresses in aprons and caps.

Look's a bit posh.

- Whee! - Maybe some other

time, my dear. - Again!

Yes... some other time.

Whatever's up, darling?

What are you crying for?

- I've had it done!

- What? What?

- His hair.

- Eh?

They've cut it all off.

His beautiful curls.

Well, blimey, it's got to be done, Ette.

We can't have him running around

like a blooming girl all his life!

He's not a baby any more. He'll

be off to school in no time.

I know!

Hello, boysie.

What's wrong with Mum?

Mum! Mum!

Raymond, dear, shouldn't you be in school?

Mum, Mum! Ahh!

Whatever are you home for?

You mustn't come home

in the middle of the day.

Did you cross that main road?

You must have done.

- I can't find the sit down lavatories!

- You can't find the...

We showed you them.

No, they are girls. Girls sit down!

- No, there's boy sitting downs as well.

- No, there isn't.

It's all girls! Look out,

I want to go number two!

Nice day again, Mrs. Bennett.

Yes, lovely, Mrs. Briggs.

Sounds like that Hitler's on

the warpath, good and proper.

Oh.

Just hark at them.

They're all barmy.

Our George was killed in the last one.

And brother Tom.

It doesn't seem all that long ago.

Our poor old mother never got over it.

This television is going to be on

one and a half hours every evening.

Dreadful.

It will be like going to

the pictures every day.

Blimey! There is a photo here of

the Duke and Duchess of Windsor

shaking hands with Hitler.

Oh, he can't be so bad, then.

What?

Look, Mum.

The Prime Minister Neville

Chamberlain returned from

Germany today and spoke to

crowds at Heston airport

with the promise of peace.

I had another talk with

German Chancellor Herr Hitler.

And here is the paper which bears

his name upon it as well as mine.

Cor, Ette. Old Chamberlain has

given Hitler half of Czechoslovakia.

Oh, yes?

He says it's peace with

honour. Peace in our time.

Think goodness for that. Don't

you want that bit of toast, Ernest?

Ah. No thanks, dear.

Evening Standard.

Ta, Ern.

You there, Ette?

In here!

Hitler's marched into Prague now.

He'll be coming down our road soon.

Adolf Hitler? In Wimbledon Park?

It says here the government

is going to spend 200,000

on air raid shelters.

We better get ourselves ready.

Oh, not on the table, Ernest!

It's going to be very stuffy

with all this blackout up, Ernest.

Not half as stuffy as a

gas-proof room would be.

Poisoned gas?!

- Oh, I hadn't thought of that.

- We have to bung up the chimney,

tape over the cracks around

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