Incendiary

Five, four, three, two, one.

Go!

Mummy, you blinked. I won.

Yes, you did. Now, in you get.

Tomorrow we're going to the seaside.

(Sizzling and cracking)

(Waves breaking)

(Panting)

(Woman) 'So, if I'm going to show

you my life, I better start here.

'My boy and Camber Sands.

'Why this and why now?

I'll come back to that.'

Mummy!

(Woman) 'A force of nature,

the midwife called him,

'when he came howling

into this world four years ago.

'And he hasn't stopped since.'

Mummy!

'Me and him spent a lot of time together

cos his dad is a right miserable bugger.

'To be fair, he wasn't always miserable.

'Or, maybe he was and

I just didn't see it.

'I wouldn't be the first woman

in my family

'to have her knickers charmed off her

by some fella in the army.

'Anyway, for better or worse,

'I got my boy and he got me.'

Mummy!

Mummy!

'I remember my mum took me

to Camber Sands once.

'The one day she was sober.

'It was drizzling then, too."Gets you

out of the house, don't it?" she said.

- Knock, knock!

- Who's there?

- I done a...

- I done a who?

You done a poo-poo!

'And that quiet rain fell all the way home.

'My gran told me that Adolf Hitler did us

a favour when he bombed London.

'His incendiary bombs made the hole

in Barnet Grove

'that they built our tower blocks in,

'and London burned

with incredible noise and fury.

"'It's on account of Adolf," she said,

"'that we get a nice a view

of the Georgian side of the street

"'where the bombs missed."'

Mummy! I'm running.

I'm running really fast!

- You can't catch me.

- (Woman) Careful!

If you think I can't see you in there,

you're mad.

'We bought our flat off the council.

'Smells of chip fat, but Lenny says

it'll be a good investment one day,

'cos it's within a stone's throw

of the City.

'Third generation

of tower block dwellers, we are.

'If you're interested,

just type in chav, pikey or ned,

'and you'll find us in council estates

all over London.

'Favourite food:
chicken Kiev.

Favourite TV programme: "Top Gear".'

Ah... got you!

'Religion:
Arsenal Football Club.'

Right, wait, wait and... go!

Mummy, get him out now. Mr Rabbit

doesn't like going in the dizzy machine.

Mummy, get him out now!

Right. There you go.

That's better.

(Phone rings)

Hello?

(Man) 'Your mum's in a spot of bother.

She needs some help.'

You mean she's arseholed and you're

the one she's got to call me for money?

She only ever calls

if she wants money for booze.

I don't want to appear rude,

but I need to keep this phone free. Bye.

- Is Granny arseholed again?

- What kind of language is that, hey?

(TV) 'And now the news at 6:00 with

George Alagiah and Sophie Raworth.

This is the news with me, George

Alagiah and me, Sophie Raworth.

Mummy, you blinked. I won.

Yes, you did. Now, in you get.

Mr Rabbit doesn't like going

in the dizzy machine.

Yeah, but we have to keep him

nice and clean, don't we?

He said he doesn't mind being dirty.

Oh, he told you that, did he?

And he said, you can come in here

if you're scared tonight.

Thank you, precious.

Mummy's not scared.

(Kissing)

(Door opens)

(Sighs heavily)

(Door closes)

Everything go OK?

Still here, aren't I?

(TV on in background)

(Engine idling)

(Girl cackles)

# 1-0 to the Arsenal!

# 1-0 to the Arsenal!

# 1-0 to the Arsenal... #

(Man) Cheers.

Cheers.

(Pulsating dance music

and muffled shouting)

I'm going to kill those bastards.

Drinking and shouting all hours.

I mean, there's families in these flats.

For Christ's sake!

I'll check he's OK.

(Phone rings)

(Door opens and closes)

(Muffled music and cheering)

(Sniffs)

(Kisses)

Hi, Pearl. Can you listen for him?

I've got to go out for a bit.

- Sure, darling.

- Thanks. Key's under the flower pot.

(Police sirens wailing)

- How long since the alert went out?

- 40, 45 minutes.

I'll have to get in there.

(Man #1) Chemical?

(Man #2) Looks like it.

(Man #3) Boy... look at that!

Ta.

(Man #3) She is fit.

- (Man #3) Twenty quid.

- Yes, twenty. Yes!

- (Man #3) You want the bet?

- Yes.

- And I'll take her home.

- Ooh!

Excuse me... er... my friends think

you're beautiful,

and they bet me twenty quid

I couldn't find out your name.

So tell me your name, we'll split the cash

and I won't bother you again.

- Twenty quid?

- Twenty English pounds.

- Listen carefully.

- Yeah.

Your friends are wankers.

Yeah... yeah.

So help me take their cash.

Ten quid each.

I don't need ten quid.

Right...

Look, I... I don't need

ten quid either, really.

So... er... maybe we could

just have a talk?

- Do you come from round here?

- Over there. Wellington Estate.

That's right opposite me. I can see

the Wellington Estate from my place.

Bet it's done wonders

for the price of your house.

But I bet yours is nice... inside.

Yeah, it's all right. Least we don't have

a view of the Wellington Estate.

Ha-ha... yeah.

Are you here on your own?

Waiting for my husband.

He's a policeman.

He works in bomb disposal.

He got called out on a job

and I'm waiting for him to come home.

Christ, bomb disposal, eh?

Cut the red wire! Cut the green wire!

(Imitates explosion)

That was ridiculously insensitive.

I'm sorry. I apologise.

I feel like I'm about to go off myself,

I'm so full of nerves.

We've got a little boy, he's four.

He's an handful. I mean, he's beautiful,

but... full of energy.

He's obsessed with a toy rabbit

who smells. Won't even let me wash it.

Are you OK?

I'm not in the habit of spilling my guts

to strangers in pubs.

Don't apologise. I understand, if you

need to talk, I'm a very good listener.

I'll get us another couple of drinks and

then you can start at the very beginning.

(Beeping)

These new bomb scares have kicked it

off again. He never used to be like this.

God, it must be so tough.

Makes me feel so terribly shallow.

Why? What do you do?

Oh, I'm a journalist for one of

the national newspapers."The Express".

What do you write about?

Anything from sleazy politicians

to fraudulent city institutions.

My name is Barry Lavis,

I'm here to inspect your VAT receipts,

as authorised by the VAT act of 1968.

- People believe that, do they?

- Sometimes, yeah.

And if I can't get into their heads,

I'll try and get into their beds.

What do you tell people

when you need to get into their beds?

I like you.

- Does that work?

- I don't know... does it?

- My girlfriend's away.

- Oh?

- She's in Paris.

- That's nice.

He isn't back yet. Car's not here.

Well, if he isn't back yet,

why don't you come back to mine?

For a coffee.

No. I'd better get back.

You all right?

Yeah. A stomach virus.

Maybe you should go

and talk to somebody.

It's a stomach bug.

Are you going to the Arsenal game

on Saturday?

Chelsea are going to slaughter you.

(Woman) Nice view.

(Man #3) Yeah.

I think it would be better if I left.

I think it'd be much better if you stayed.

How did it go?

I'm still here, aren't I?

Yeah, love, you still are.

# 10-0 to the Arsenal!

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