Passport to Pimlico

5

'You've been listening

to a programme of lunchtime music

'by Les Norman

and his Bethnal Green Bambinos.'

- You gonna be at that meeting tonight?

- Afraid so.

- Try and keep it short, Dad.

- Hm.

I I don't want to set the world on fire

J I just want to start...

- Pair of kippers to wait for Mrs White.

- Okey-doke.

See any difference?

- What's the matter? Gone off?

- No, in me.

- What's all that oily muck?

- The shiny look, they call it.

- Do you like it?

- Not much.

- No wonder we're short of fat.

- Frank!

Frank, Mum wants to know

if you've got any cod fillets.

I've got something better. Fancy a

nice bit of bream for your supper?

- Mm, yes.

- Ah, it's a treat to see it again.

My old dad used to say that this one

was the most human fish of 'em all.

If I was a bream, I'd resent that.

Oh, I'll tell you a most

remarkable thing about the bream.

When he's courting,

he grows a little white wart just here.

Just like you, or I might buy a new hat.

Well, I must be going now.

I'm ten minutes late already.

I'll fetch it over

with a nice big piece of ice.

All right.

Some people get jam on it-.

Wrap this up and put it in the fridge.

- Hello, Benny.

- Hello.

Phew! 94 degrees on Air Ministry roof.

Right, I'll keep off it.

- Any more about us there?

- Yeah.

"It is now believed that Pamela, the

last unexploded bomb in the London area,

"will be removed from Miramont Place,

Pimlico, on Tuesday next."

- We hope.

- Oh, it's gotta be, mate.

They want it for the exhibition

on local arts and culture.

You can pack it up, boys.

Art and culture's had it.

We're not defusing after all.

- Not, sir?

- We've got to blow her up.

- What, in her state of health?

- We've got to.

They've discovered another last bomb

so Pamela goes up tomorrow.

The police are sending a chap

round now to warn the population.

What are you talking about?

Two bob to win on Silver Street

at 13 to 8. That's 5 and 3.

Any to Come Equator, you had.

Heard about the bomb, Fred?

Setting her off tomorrow.

- Oh, they're setting her off, are they?

- Have to change your pitch.

Bit of bad, Gold Cup Day.

This one's me, all right.

Think it'll go with my taffeta?

That check skirt I got up west?

Lovely. Three guineas, dear.

- Oh.

- Make it pounds. I'm easy.

Ta, Edie.

I've got three coupons somewhere.

- Four, dear. Same as Bond Street.

- Oh, go on, be a pal.

I want it for Miss Pimlico night

at the Palais.

Oh, that. Proper old fiddle. Always was.

OK, I'll put it by.

Oh, no.

Look, I tell you what.

Oh, all right.

- Well, and what have I been up to?

- Huh! Make me blush to guess.

Well, it's no good you settling down

for a mike. It's time I had a wet.

I've come here to save your life.

They're blowing up that bomb tomorrow.

- They're blowing it up?

- You'll have to take a walk.

I suppose they couldn't make it

early closing day.

- Wouldn't upset trade enough.

- You can't pick and choose with bombs.

- Governor in, Bert?

- If it's about the bomb, he knows.

- Bert! You going to be all night?

- Coming, Governor.

A trifling matter like that, sir, I...

I didn't want to bother Head Office.

Trifling?

We regard it as a serious matter

that a man in your position should make

these decisions without our authority.

Excuse me, sir.

Sorry, sir.

A sense of responsibility

is a very excellent thing, Wix.

We quite appreciate that.

But if we start giving a free hand

to the manager of a minor branch,

we'd find ourselves in Queer Street.

Head Office don't consider you a second

Montagu Norman yet, you know,

and they like to have some idea

of what's happening here.

Then Head Office had better know

that I and my staff intend knocking off

at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon.

Seems funny, Arthur, having

to come and tell you about a bomb.

You're telling me. Took a warden

to nose 'em out in the old days.

They aren't half making

a mess-up of this one.

He really misses

that old white helmet of his.

Good evening, ladies.

Now, what can I do for you?

Mum wants a mop.

What, another? She had one last week.

What did she do with that, eh?

Fetch your dad one over the ear with it?

Don't tease the child, Arthur.

Give her a mop.

- Hello! That's a new one, isn't it?

- Yes, he finished it last night.

Spent half the morning

getting the mess off the carpet.

It's an idea for that dump out there.

Give those kids somewhere decent to play.

They seem to be

doing pretty well as it is.

I'd have something to say

if I was their mother.

- Nice job you've got there.

- Something to pass the time.

Pass the time indeed!

Stayed up till two o'clock

to get it ready for the Council meeting.

It'll be quite simple to turn

the old water tank into a swimming pool.

I, er... l think we've discussed

this matter long enough, gentlemen.

Those in favour

of Mr Pemberton's, er... project.

Those in favour of selling

this piece of ground.

Well, that seems to settle it.

We've got to face economic facts,

Mr Pemberton.

This borough is in no position just now

to finance daydreams.

That's just plain ridiculous.

Don't you ever think of anything

besides pounds, shillings and pence?

Withdraw that remark!

If everybody is quite settled now,

I should like to read

the proposed advertisement.

"For sale, freehold. Valuable building

land in much sought-after position.

"Eminently suitable for business

premises or factory site.

"Heart of busy trading centre.

Unlimited prospects.

"Full transport facilities to hand.

"Special appeal to purchaser of vision.

"No obstruction to future development.

"Thoroughly safe investment."

What have you been up to, you little devil?

Little devil, that's what you are.

Wasn't me. It was him.

I reckon it was about six to four

on him coming home in a sack.

- Came down on my funny bone.

- Went right up in the air, I did.

So will your father

when he hears about this.

All I can say is

some people are born lucky.

- Oh!

- Arthur!

- Dad, where are you?

- Where is he gone?

- Somebody do something!

- Hold on!

- Here's a rope!

- Mr Pemberton!

Mr Pemberton! Are you all right?

Are you all right, Mr Pemberton?

Oh, I'm having a grand time.

Arthur!

Don't worry, we're getting him up.

Right!

Heave!

Take it easy!

Stick to it, Dad! You'll make it!

Hold tight, dear.

You all right?

- Hey, what happened?

- Thank you, boys.

I'm all right. Don't worry, don't fuss.

I'm all right, I tell you.

- You have hurt yourself.

- No, I haven't.

- Just like old times, eh?

- Hello, Ted. Yeah, just like.

You turn up when it's all over.

Now, come on. Which of you was it?

Come on. Who was it?

- Which of you was it?

- Don't lie!

- It's always that kid of yours.

- He never touched that wheel.

- Steady, steady.

- Well, sit still, then.

" - Shirley!

OK, I'll go.

- That'll do, that'll do.

- No, it won't. Stay where you are.

Playing about like a schoolboy.

I don't know why you ever wanted

to go down the blessed hole.

I didn't want to go down the hole.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes