London Boulevard Page #2

Friday, the patio. Saturday, party.

Sunday, go to church.

And pray, I pray you, for all of us entire.

Right.

Are you an actor?

Am.

I'm resting.

You are no longer employed, Mr Lee.

I thought I made that perfectly clear.

Lighten up, mate.

So I had a camera.

Did I use it?

- Did I?

- You have already been replaced.

I don't think so.

You see, I know too much, don't I? Eh?

Cup of tea, Jord.

Two sugars.

There's a good boy.

Get the f*** out of here,

you fat, f***ing c*nt!

And you go anywhere near the tabloids,

and I will chop you up in court

until there's nothing left

but a f***ing stain!

F*** off.

Thank you. No heroin today.

They'll take your photograph

until they realise you're nobody.

They're kind enough to think

we're all somebody, for a minute.

Is next Monday suitable?

Oi! You want a talking to.

He's got no idea, that posh c*nt!

No idea! No f***ing idea, mate!

You've got to ask yourself how

he became posh in the first place.

His grandfather probably did

your grandfather with a shovel.

You don't want to f*** with me!

I don't have to f*** with you,

you're already f***ed.

Out of a job, anyway.

Don't ever go there again.

Oh, we'll see about that.

Your manor now, is it, eh? Eh?

Maybe it's enough for you.

How's your brother?

- What's your name?

- Harry Mitchel.

Bullshit.

You want to see

my driver's license, Lee-Lee?

F*** off.

Detective Sergeant Bailey, Mr Mitchel.

Might I have a word?

Now, we get a daily bulletin about all

ex-prisoners returning to our manor.

And I recognise your name, of course,

but, hey,

there's no address.

Now why no address

when you so clearly have one.

I'm not on parole.

- I'm a free man.

- 'Course you are.

Where's the owner?

How about a nice cup of tea?

Two sugars.

Your friend Billy Norton

is sailing close to the wind.

You'd be wise to avoid him.

And dodges like this flat.

Which, if I were to look into it...

Yeah, I got my eye on you, Mitchel.

You're in my manor.

What is it? What you want?

Consider it rent on the flat.

- I'll see myself out.

- Yeah, you will.

- F***ing c*nt.

- I heard that!

You ready to clock in?

You're sailing close to the wind, Billy.

- Eh? What?

- Policeman told me.

You spoke to a f***ing copper

about me?

The same one

who got my address from you.

Oh, Bailey? Oh, f*** Bailey.

You don't worry about him.

Right. Hope the f***ing lift's working.

We start at the top,

we work our way down, right?

When you finish this gaff, mate,

you want to be near

the front f***ing door.

I sh*t you not.

Get your mum.

Your mum, yeah?

Go on, get...

What have you got for me?

Let's have a look then.

No, you're a bit short, love.

I had a difficult week.

I had to buy a plane ticket,

my father's got cancer.

Yeah? I could give a rat's f***ing arse

about your Hindu psychodramas.

You know, I'll tell you what,

I'll tell you what,

you can double up next week.

- All right?

- Yeah.

- All right?

- Yeah. Yeah.

Hello.

I'm Anthony Trent.

This is my house.

That is, it was my house

before it became your house.

And now you want what?

Funnily enough,

I thought I might collect some things.

They made me write prescriptions

apart from everything else.

I'm a doctor. I'm being investigated.

It's a sad story, Anthony,

but given the people involved,

I think it will get sadder

if you come here again.

I reckoned it was a mistake to come.

Nice night.

F*** yourself.

How's the eating? You eating?

You know I don't like to eat.

It makes me sick.

There's only so far

I can take care of you.

Mum went down helping you.

Didn't have a life until she had cancer

because of you.

I didn't come here for a lecture.

You came for a proper feed

of meat and vegetables

and you're going to f***ing well have it.

If I cook this,

and if you don't eat it, we're done.

- Want vodka.

- I don't have any f***ing vodka.

All right? Have a f***ing vegetable.

- Want a vodka.

- You can't have vodka with your meds.

I want a f***ing vodka.

You can't have f***ing vodka

with your meds!

Can't eat with that staring at me.

Join the f***ing club.

I already told you

he's not in any condition for visitors.

What is the problem, please?

He wants to see our Mr Anonymous.

- His name is Joe.

- What's his last name?

Matron, I'll deal with this.

As a relative.

A nephew perhaps?

- That's right, I'm his nephew.

- Please.

Joe is not in good shape.

I think he has 24 hours or less.

- What?

- I'm very sorry.

Do you wish to see him?

- Please.

- I'm Dr Raju.

Mitchel.

Mitchel.

Hello, Joe.

You should see the other guy.

Who is the other guy, Joe?

It's important you tell me

who the other guy is.

It doesn't make a difference.

Yes, it makes a difference.

I don't want to die, Mitch.

I thought I wouldn't mind, but I do.

Well, that's the difference, Joe.

So you tell me who did this.

Kid from the estates.

About 16.

Footballer.

Real one.

Scouted.

This morphine is a rush, Mitch.

I lived as long as I could.

I tried.

Well done, son. Well done.

- I need a burial plot.

- What?

I don't want to start from the beginning

again and tell you I need a burial plot.

Now if you ask me f***ing why.

Just get it done.

It'll cost ya. Not just money.

I told ya, I need your help tomorrow.

- Right.

- None of the lads are...

Now it's one flat. One flat, that's all.

This is it.

You know who I am,

and you know what this is.

He don't leave money here.

Look, just gimme something.

I got to have something.

I told you, I got nothing.

- Where is he?

- He's out.

- You'd better get out of here.

- Eh?

Why? Why's that then?

Why? Without what belongs to me.

Nothing belongs to you.

- What the f*** you say to me!

- My brother's coming over.

- Yeah, your brother is?

- What the f*** you doing?

F***ing get off me! F*** off!

What are you doing?

What are you doing, Billy?

Nothing broken. Ribs.

Nobody wants to pay compensations.

Bones and teeth, you pay for them.

Right.

We seem to be missing

your NHS number.

Taken care of, Matron. Thank you.

- Right. Thank you, Doctor.

- Thank you. No, thank you.

Good man.

I'll fix you up with some pain killers.

I thought you was behind me.

I said that.

I said, if it gets moody, run.

I said that in the van.

No, you didn't.

So what's this... this other job you got?

I don't have a job.

Listen, I run into Lee

down the Feathers.

He says... He says you got his job.

He says he don't mind 'cause it's you.

But, car collection in the garage.

It's outrageous, Lee says.

Like '60s Silver Cloud.

And her,

Lee says she's out of her mind.

Yeah? Well, word's got around

and there's an interested party.

Yeah?

You put it all in a container, right?

Cars, paintings, jewellery, furniture.

Off to France.

What's your point, Billy?

Well, it'd be worth knocking it over.

You and me.

We'd have a grateful party.

Billy.

We got that car, them paintings.

Who do you think

the cops will pull first?

Well, there is that.

Put it out of your mind,

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