Nurse. What time is it?
- It's 4:00 in the morning.
- Four o'clock? Jesus.
Try and sleep.
Listen, I'm really sorry about
all the fuss. I'm really sorry, yeah.
I don't know what got into me, nurse.
Eric, nobody's been hurt.
You're not hurt.
Everything's all right.
Listen, I got an early shift.
Can you get me clothes for me,
please, nurse?
You won't be going anywhere.
- Eric, it's all right.
- Can you get me clothes, please?
- Try and relax. Just lie down.
- I can't be late for work, nurse.
- It's okay.
- I can't be late.
It's all right.
I can't be late for work, nurse.
- It's okay.
- Can you get me clothes, please?
- You get to sleep. You get to sleep.
- I can't be late.
- I can't be late.
- It's okay.
Oh, Lily, I'm so sorry.
Oh, God, Lily, I'm so sorry.
You take it easy.
All right, Eric?
God, what have you been up to,
you dipstick?
- Ah, I know, I know.
- You give us a right scare, you know?
Something let go.
- Did you get any broken bones or owt?
- No, no, no, no, no.
- Has he been giving you any trouble?
- I haven't. Have I?
- No, model patient. Been fine.
- Can be a bit of a bugger him, you know.
Guinness Book of Records, eh?
You what?
Three thousand times
round the same roundabout.
It's a career change, isn't it?
From postman to astronaut.
I was daydreaming.
You went round the wrong fucking way.
- You're lucky somebody wasn't killed.
- Don't. Don't.
A good night's kip
and I'll be as fit as a butcher's dog.
Where's me car?
It's like you. It's fucked.
What about the police?
I've had a word with them.
They've gotta make a report, but I don't
think they're gonna take it any further
due to your psychological condition.
Eric, if there's anything you need,
anything at all,
give me a shout, d'you hear?
Any time. Day or night. All right?
Aye. Cheers, mate. Thanks.
All right. We've just dropped
the gear off.
The van'll be here in about an hour.
Can you let Ryan know, please?
Cheers, mate.
Listen, I told you
no more of your shit here.
It's only gonna be for a few hours,
mate. What's the problem?
How the fuck have you got in anyway?
Fucking hell.
Fuck's sake.
Hey, did you give
those two pricks a key?
- What?
- Those two jokers who just walked out.
- Did you give them a key?
- What you on about?
What have I told you about
giving the key to people?
- You hear me?
- Yeah.
- Who are you?
- Oh, I just live here, love.
Oh, are you Ryan's stepdad?
- Yeah.
- Oh.
I want that shit downstairs
moving as soon as possible.
And I won't tell you again, right?
Right.
No need to shout.
Jess?
For God's sake, Jess. It's nearly
two o'clock, for Christ's sakes.
Get up for school. You're late.
- It's the middle of the afternoon.
- So what, man?
Will you get up for school?
Oh, just leave me alone.
I'm trying to sleep.
Will you get up, Jess?
Obviously, I'm not going to
school if I'm in bed, am I?
God, leave me alone.
Right, well, I'll just
clear up for you, shall I?
- Eh? I'll just...
- Oi, knobhead.
Who the fucking hell are you?
Look, Jess, will you sort this out?
It's not a bleeding doss-house.
- Trying to get me head down.
- I'm just sick of it, I am.
- What the...
- Who the fuck are you, you prick?
- Pardon me?
- Who the fuck are you?
Who the fuck am I?
I'll tell you who the fuck I am.
I'm fucking room service!
Do you wish to register
a fucking complaint?
Look at my room, man!
Look, just go away. Move!
Fuck off. I'm trying to sleep.
Piss off, man.
Look at my room.
Look at my room!
Fucking sick of it!
Fucking get it sorted.
- I'm up to here with it!
- What the hell?
Hello. We're not available now.
Please leave your name
and phone number after the beep.
We will return your call.
Dad, it's me again.
Where the hell are ya?
Will you phone me, please?
God, is your mobile working or what?
D'you know I'm missing two classes now?
I've gotta rush back
and pick up Daisy myself.
You've really let me down, Dad.
I am so pissed off.
Will you just ring me
and let me know that you're okay?
Have you ever had a shrink, Eric?
You know what he asked me?
When's the last time you was happy?
Today, at Old Trafford,
it's the return of Eric Cantona,
the most talented, temperamental
and talked about footballer in Britain.
Cantona takes control.
Makes good ground.
Looking for the shooting opportunity
and finds it!
Eric Cantona again
for Manchester United.
Crosses it towards Cantona.
Kanchelskis. It's a great ball.
Cantona takes it in his stride
and fires Manchester United
into the lead.
Drink a drink a drink
To the king, the king, the king
For he's the leader
of our football team
He's the greatest centre forward
That the world has ever seen
Cantona. It's still Cantona.
There's one back.
Cantona for Manchester United.
Oh, but he's won it back.
Giggs. Here's Cantona.
Yes! Eric Cantona with the goal
for Manchester United.
Look at the state of him.
He's got no rhythm. He's stuck. He's...
He's like a wonky wheel,
he can't get going.
I know, it's hard to believe, isn't it?
A few years ago
he was on the dance floor.
He was a brilliant dancer.
Look at the state of him.
I'm not being funny, but how long
is it since Chrissie bailed out?
Seven years.
And then he gets lumbered
with the two stepsons.
How's that work?
- Hello, boys.
- All right?
- What you got there?
- Shame, isn't it?
- Oh, don't worry, this'll sort him out.
- What is it?
Dog's bollocks this.
What is this?
- Take it from me.
- Now what you got?
You been raiding
the self-help section again?
You wanna be banned from bookshops.
If you can open up your tiny minds
for just a little minute,
you might learn something.
What Eric needs is laughter.
It's got it in there.
According to him,
laughter is the best medicine.
If you can make him laugh,
laughter, no matter whether
it's forced or artificial,
it makes you feel good.
Apparently it lifts your spirits,
it produces endorphins,
and all your body feels good.
If I was in Eric's shoes,
I'd rather have a good fuck,
I'll be honest with you.
- Is that you volunteering?
- No.
I'm volunteering Jack.
Listen, what we're gonna do
is try and make Eric laugh.
Okay. One at a time. All go down there.
Tell him a joke, do a dance, do what
you like, just make him fucking laugh.
Try and cheer the lad up, all right?
Do the best you can.
- All right, Eric?
- All right, Spleen?
Did you, did you hear
about the...
Oh, dear.
Need to do better
than that, Spleen.
- Hey, Eric. You all right?
- All right, Smug.
- Hey, two monkeys in a bath, right.
- Right.
One monkey turns to the other monkey
and goes...
- Like that, right? Right?
- Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
The other monkey turns
to the other one and goes
"Put some cold water in, you daft cunt. "
- Fucking hell.
- Oh, fuck off.
That's not bad. It's better than
Spleen's anyway, weren't it?
Yeah, whatever.
- Hi, Eric.
- All right.
Hey, you're good at
crosswords, aren't you?
- Yeah, yeah, aye.
- Yeah.
Heavily laden postman.
- How many letters?
- A fucking big bagful.
Yeah, yeah.
Stand in front of your imaginary mirror.
Yeah.
Stand in front of your imaginary mirror.
Think of someone who loves you
and imagine viewing yourself
through their eyes.
Yeah?
Don't fuck about. Come on.
It's easy this, isn't it?
Have you had to have met them?
Do you have to have met the person?
Well, you...
You must have met them if they love you.
- Come on.
- Is there any way we can prep
- to get into it?
- You can fucking shut up for a start!
I'm here.
I'm in front of me mirror.
Stand in front of a fucking
imaginary mirror. Right?
- I am.
- Think of someone who...
This might be hard for you.
Think of someone who loves you.
And imagine viewing yourself
through their eyes.
- It's fucking dead easy.
- Smug loves him.
No, come on, do it now.
- No, come on.
- It's all right.
Then gently press
the thumb of each hand
against the biggest finger...
- Of your own hand or someone else's?
- Not like that, is it?
No, your hand.
- The same hand?
- It's like that.
Have to sit down for this bit.
Keep at it, keep at it,
keep at it. Right.
Now, with your eyes closed,
breathe in slowly.
What's best? In through the nose
and out through the mouth
or in through the mouth
and out through the nose?
Just breathe.
Breathe through
your arse if you like. Just breathe.
I get dizzy if I breathe too much.
Shut up. Keep your eyes closed,
breathe slowly and relax.
Allow yourself to see yourself
through the eyes of
someone who loves you,
totally loves you.
Someone who loves you
without any condition, right?
You are totally loved.
And you're breathing.
And you're holding your
finger and your thumb.
- Are we there?
- Yeah.
We're all there?
- Is this supposed to relax us?
- Yes.
This better not be some kind of
weirdo cult thing.
Oh, can't you shut up for a minute?
Weirdo cult thing?
- I'm not taking me pants off.
- Shut up!
Fucking concentrate! Will you?
Just calm down, just fucking...
Well, it's him! You fucking...
Like Derek Acorah.
I'm trying to talk
to the unconscious mind,
not the fucking brain-dead.
Right. You're breathing, your fingers,
your thumbs together.
There's someone who likes you, you're
looking through their eyes at yourself.
Now I've took you over to
the Possibility Generator.
Now I want you to think of
someone who you like,
someone whose confidence and charisma
you wish to emulate. Right?
Okay.
Have you got
that person in your mind?
- Yes.
- Someone you think the world of.
Charisma, confidence
and you want to emulate them.
- But you don't have to know these ones?
- Oh, shut up.
I'm just checking.
- Smug, who have you thought of?
- Sammy Davis.
- Sammy Davis, Jr.
- 'Cause, like, for his confidence.
Smug is looking through
the eyes of Sammy Davis, Jr.
Well, he's looking through one of them.
Sammy Davis, Jr.
Spleen?
Fidel Castro.
Okay. Fidel Castro.
Jack?
- Nelson Mandela.
- Good choice.
Nice one. Nelson Mandela.
Travis?
Gandhi.
- Good one.
- Nice one. Eric?
Eric Cantona. King Eric.
- Of course.
- Best footballer ever lived.
- Good man. Good man.
- Good call, good call.
- I'll tell you what
- What about you, Meatballs?
Me?
Old Blue Eyes.
Mr Frank Sinatra.
I'm gonna emulate Frank Sinatra.
Hey, we could do a duet.
Right, what a room we've got here.
What a fantastic room. Sammy Davis, Jr,
Fidel Castro, Gandhi, Nelson Mandela,
Eric Cantona
and Old Blue Eyes himself,
Mr Frank Sinatra.
Eh? What a year that was.
You got hold of Winnie, now?
I need to see Winnie.
Winnie.
Here you are, come on,
finish off over here, Meatballs.
- Eric, what's this, mate?
- Fucking, my letters. Do you mind?
Have you not opened them?
Are they yours, Eric?
What is he looking at me letters for?
Can you put them down, please?
Come and sit down.
Let's carry on with this exercise.
Jack, what are you doing,
for fuck's sake?
Are they yours? Have you not
opened them? They might be bills.
Oh, for crying out bleeding loud.
- Eric.
- What's this, Eric?
Eric, what's going on, mate?
- Oh, for crying out loud.
- Fucking hell, man.
Spleen, get on the phone
and tell the lads.
We're gonna have to
deliver these tomorrow.
Flawed genius, eh?
Flawed postman.
How's your self care, Eric?
Have you ever thought about
killing yourself?
Who loves you, Eric?
Takes care of you?
You know what knocked me for six?
And I didn't fucking see this coming.
"Have you ever done anything
that you're ashamed of?"
Well, have you?
Fucking hell.
What the fuck?
- Is that really you?
- Yeah.
Say something in French then.
Fucking hell, it is you.
What the fuck, man?
Wait till the fucking lads
hear about this.
They still fucking love ya.
It's Lily, n'est-ce pas?
I can't say her name.
I don't like to talk about her, Eric.
Say it.
I can't.
You have to face this. Right?
- I can't.
- Yes, you can.
Lily. Fuck.
It's always fucking Lily.
- Open the trunk.
- No, I can't.
- You what?
- Without danger,
we cannot get beyond danger.
Come on.
God.
Oh, Jesus Christ.
God.
Here y'are, look at that.
"Manchester duo
win '50s dance competition. "
19th of July, 1979.
Thirty years ago.
Used to love dancing. Rock 'n' roll.
You know, putting all the gear on
and doing the hair.
That's a picture from the night
we won the contest.
- A great night.
- Ah, yes.
What a pair of blue suede shoes.
Yeah, blue suede shoes.
Hey, they got sent from America.
Cost me a week's wages they did.
I wonder what happened to them.
You know,
sometimes the beautiful memories...
...are the most toughest of them all.
C'est la vie.
Yeah.
They're the hardest to deal with.
C'est la vie.
Yeah.
It was a daft idea, really.
The compere, he pulled out these
tickets at random from these boxes,
one for the girls and one for the boys.
And you met for the first time
on the dance floor.
Anyway, he goes "Number 19.
Eric, where are ya?"
...Eric Bishop.
I got up on the dance floor,
like, bit nervous.
"And for the ladies,"
Number one. Lily Devine.
Then I turned round, like,
she just sort of floated out,
absolutely fucking gorgeous.
She looked a little bit shy, like.
But you could sense
there was a bit of mischief in there.
What a dancer. I couldn't believe it.
She left me standing.
I was like, "Oh, what's going on here?"
But the second one, second number was,
It's Late by Ricky Nelson.
I was ready for her then.
And the band start playing.
And I'll tell you what,
I was chucking her about and flipping
her and tossing her everywhere.
She just kept coming back
faster than ever.
It was like she fucking trusted me,
you know what I mean?
I don't know.
I don't know if it was, like,
the dancing or whatever
that just brought us closer together,
but...
It was just like
one of those magic nights
that you know
you're never gonna have again.
Sometimes we didn't do anything,
we just sat there
and just held each other's eyes.
I've never done that with anyone else,
except Lily Devine.
And 30 years later, you can't even
face her. Incroyable, non?
Well, a lot of mistakes have been made.
A lot of water under the bridge.
Can you imagine being asked
by your daughter
to meet your ex-wife on a daily basis,
when you've hardly seen her
for three decades?
Well, I'm just a few weeks
off graduation and I'm...
I'm struggling. I am way behind
with my dissertation. And if...
- If I don't finish it, I can't graduate.
- Right.
And it's been difficult with Daisy.
So I was just wondering, when you
pick her up from nursery,
instead of bringing her back to mine
at 5:00, like you normally do,
can you keep her
for just one more hour till 6:00?
Yeah, course I can.
No problem, Daisy, eh?
Brilliant. That means I can study
in the library till 10:00.
- Oh, don't worry about it.
- Ah, what's that?
- You're no problem to your granddad.
- Here you are, Dad.
- Are you, eh?
- Come here, chicken. Ah, chicken.
- Hello. What's the matter? Eh?
- Let's get your bottle for ya.
Oh, come here.
- Hey, look at that.
- Are you hungry?
- Look at the sunshine, eh.
- Oh, cheers, Dad.
- She ready for this?
- Here you go.
So where do you want us
to drop her then?
- At Mum's.
- Oh, for God's sake, Sam.
I've hardly seen your mother for years.
Most of your life, for Christ's sake.
- Don't ask me to do that, love.
- Dad.
- I can't, not now, it's just...
- You've both moved on.
It doesn't make sense any more.
- I spoke to Mam and she don't mind.
- Well, what did she say?
Well, it's practical,
by far the easiest.
What did she say?
She said it might be good
to see you again, catch up.
Just tell me exactly what she said, Sam.
She said it doesn't
really matter anymore.
Well, you asked, Dad.
Five words.
"It doesn't really matter anymore. "
That's what she said.
Now that is worse than hatred.
Oui. Much worse.
Oh, well, thanks a lot.
And then when I saw her...
She'd really taken care of herself.
Her hair, the way she stood, everything.
Fuck.
Brought it all back?
You, Lily and baby Sam?
Oh, God, yeah.
Like it was yesterday. Nearly 30 years.
I'm fucked.
Oui.
Right with you, mon ami.
So I suggest a jump
off the nearest block of flats.
Oh, it's all right for you.
Flawed genius bastard.
Playing beach football.
VIP. Celebrity pals.
You've even got a fucking French accent.
Eh, look at me. Scrawny little fuck.
You've got it all, mate. All of it.
You think my friends
are better than yours?
It's all just slipping
through me fingers.
The lads look through me.
And I can't even trust meself.
I feel like... I feel like I'm floating
and I'm looking down on meself,
wandering round
like a scabby old fucking dog.
What? What?
He that forecasts all perils
will never sail the seas.
He that is afraid to shake the dice
will never throw a six.
If you do not enter a tiger's den,
you cannot get his cubs.
Oh, stick your proverbs
up your fucking arse.
How do you say that in French?
- Huh?
- That's not very nice.
I'm fucking up to here
with your philosophy.
I'm still getting over the fucking
seagulls one, for Christ's sakes.
Always got more choices than we think.
Always.
Yeah, like what?
A shave.
Oh, I can't face her. Right?
Yes, you can.
Right?
- Eric.
- Chrissie.
No. Lily. Your first wife.
Yeah. Sorry, just a bit nervous.
She fed about half-hour ago.
There's fruit pure
in the Tupperware.
- The nappies are underneath.
- Amazing.
Oh, and the bibs are underneath.
And there's a bottle of water
in case she needs it.
Fantastic.
- Are you okay, Eric?
- Yeah, fine. Fine.
I'm sorry about the other day.
It's just that
I had a bit of a dizzy spell.
Hadn't slept right.
But, yeah, I'm fine, fine.
- Fighting fit.
- Good.
So are you okay for dropping her
at my place later
- or would you rather meet back here?
- Whatever's easiest.
It's only six weeks, isn't it?
- Yeah.
- Oh, I...
- Yeah.
- I didn't mean it like that. I just...
- Fancy a cup of tea, Lily?
- Why?
Look, Eric, let's just try and get
through this the best we can for Sam.
- Yeah.
- I'll see you later, Eric.
- Okay. See you.
- Bye-bye, gorgeous.
Hello.
Ryan, can I have a word, please?
- It's one of them.
- Ryan, what the fuck is that out there?
Just a rough guess,
but it looks like a cement mixer.
Yeah, I can see
it's a cement mixer, Ryan.
- What the fuck is it doing there?
- It's just chilling there for a bit.
What else do you think it is,
a fucking go-kart?
- Just having a Bud.
- You've nicked it, haven't ya? Eh?
- Who's nicked it?
- I haven't nicked it.
- You've nicked it.
- I haven't nicked it.
Where's it come from? You've nicked it.
Right, well, I'll get it sorted.
Just chill out.
Yeah, well, get it
shifted now, please, will ya?
- Look, I'll do it when I can.
- Eh?
Here you are.
Hang on a minute.
Where you going?
- Going to the match.
- Yeah. Coming, Eric?
- You got everything?
- Where you going? The match?
Man U versus Barcelona.
Watch the shopping, will you?
Eric, next time I'll try
and get you a ticket.
Zac's a main player.
He's got probably one of
the best boxes in the stadium.
- Come on, lad, stop fucking about.
- Champagne, the works.
- You'd love it.
- Oi, come on. We've gotta go. Come on.
Where are you
going with that? Get rid of it.
What the fuck?
Oh, fucking hell!
Oh, shit! Fucking work coat!
Bastard! Oh, for fuck's sake!
Fucking hell! Fuck, fuck, fucking hell!
Jack Bishop. Ironmonger.
- Yeah. Yeah.
- Your father.
Were you close?
Well, he sat on me by mistake once.
She sent me this
a week after I left her.
"I can't love you any more than this.
"Lily. "
I never ever answered her.
And the longer I left it,
the worse it was.
And then there was just no going back.
So tell her the truth.
What can you say to someone
who's just laid
their heart out on a plate?
It's just like there.
Let's have a look at that.
You know what, fuck it. Fuck it.
There's just no way
I'm gonna get through this.
I can't meet her every day.
I'll just end up back at that
fucking roundabout going round.
You must speak to her.
- I can't.
- You can't. So write to her.
I haven't got any words. And...
Fuck.
- Eric?
- Oh, no.
- Eric!
- No.
Come on, we're going for a pint.
Come on.
Go on, Eric. You are a lucky man.
- Come on!
- Go.
- Come on, mate...
- Come on, Eric, shake yourself.
All right, all right. I'm coming!
Stop banging! I'm on me way down now!
Fucking hell.
- Don't forget your wallet.
- All right.
Hey up, hey up. What's the shirt, mate?
FC United, mate. People's club.
- Wouldn't wipe my arse on that, pal.
- Oh, yeah?
Sit down, Spleen.
You're gonna have a heart attack,
- for God's sake.
- Fucking give us that pint.
Listen, pal.
You run off and left us.
They left me.
Who left you? United?
The most famous team in history.
We got over 300 million fans.
- And we left you?
- Yes.
I told you this before, right?
A bloke once said,
"Leave your...
You can change your wife,
"change your politics,
change your religion.
"But never, never can you change
your favourite football team. "
Yeah, all right, we may be small.
We may be small. But you know what?
There's no fat bastard chairman can
sell us out for 30 pieces of silver.
No, 'cause
the fat bastard's sat there.
Our club.
And I'll tell you what, that's what
they said about United.
- 1878, weren't it, eh?
- Yes.
Newton Heath they were called.
Lowly railway men. Eh? What about that?
You're pissing on your own history,
you know that?
No, it's still there. Still there.
It's all in the heart. It's still there.
- We'll never die, pal, us.
- Yeah.
He never fucking goes, Judge, anyway.
What you talking about?
Yeah, but I've told him,
there's no secret in the fact.
I can't afford it.
I can't afford to take the kids.
Exactly.
That's the point, innit, you daft git.
Car parks don't lie!
- They don't.
- You have a look. Have a look now.
What kind of car
parks in there on a match day?
Not the kind of cars we can afford.
How many postmen you know
- go to the game?
- Yeah. We're going on bikes
with fucking baskets on the front.
Won't pay Glazer
Or work for Sky
Still sing "City's gonna die"
Two Uniteds but the soul is one
As the Busby Babes carry on
- Carry on
- Oh, matron.
- Hypocrites, you are.
- You what?
Walking adverts. Look at you.
Just sponsors' names on your chests.
We don't have sponsors on our chest.
We're like Barcelona.
- What?
- Spanish.
- Who would sponsor you?
- You're sat there on a Tuesday night.
Tuesday night.
You're the fuckers
who put 50, 60 million quid
in Edwards' pocket.
- Yeah.
- Filling Murdoch's fucking pockets.
What the fuck are you doing here?
You fucking don't know
what you're doing.
- You make me sick.
- Sit down and shut the fuck up.
- I'm going. I'm going!
- Fuck off!
The game's just starting,
you fucking knob.
- Come on, Meatballs.
- Cheerio, cheerio, cheerio.
Where are you going, to walk your dog?
- Fucking brilliant, innit?
- Different class, that.
Hey, here are, here are, here are.
Let's get him at it here. Here are.
Goal!
Who scored? Who scored? Who scored?
Fucking twats.
How many times I told you
about fucking about with shit?
- I'm not fucking about.
- We're fucking trying to
do some serious work.
You're not fucking about?
- You're not fucking about?
- No.
I'm not fucking about.
D'you hear me? I'm not fucking about.
Does this look like I'm fucking about?
- No.
- No?
Get that shit out your fucking garden.
Don't look at me.
Just get in the fucking house,
you little prick.
You all right?
Remember we used to be able to
talk about anything?
Bit late for that now.
What does he want from ya?
- Who?
- Your mate in the car.
Nothing.
Good. Good to me.
Yeah. So good he gives you a smack, eh?
Is that what friends do these days?
You don't even know him. It's sorted.
Yeah. I used to have a laugh
with my friends.
I have a laugh with them.
Look, Ryan, I wanna help, mate.
You can't go on like this.
What are you gonna do, Eric?
- Brownie, mate... Yeah...
- Is it?
Right, come on, lads.
It's getting late now.
I think it's time
your mates went home, Jess.
I think it is, you know.
- Who is this, then?
- Jess, come on,
I've got work tomorrow
and you've got school.
Let's wrap it up, eh.
Five more minutes and that's it, yeah?
Five more minutes, I mean it.
Fucking hell.
You must say no.
No.
Come on, say it.
No.
In French.
Non.
Non.
Like you mean it. Non!
- Non.
- More, more, more. Non!
Non!
- Non!
- Non!
From your balls. Non!
- Non! Non! Non!
- Non! Non! Non!
- Non! Non!
- Non!
- Non! Non! Non! Non!
- Non! Non! Non!
Non! Non! Non!
Non! Non! Non! Non!
Non! Non! Non! Non! Non!
Dad? Are you all right?
Non.
Remember Nottingham Forest?
No.
Oh, come on.
Giggs takes the corner.
He bangs it over. You're there waiting.
- Bang, in it goes.
- No, no.
Oh, Man City.
Hughes down the right
wing to Kanchelskis.
Kanchelskis chips it over.
You're there waiting.
Bang, casual as you like. Straight in.
No.
Arsenal. Beckham crosses it over.
Their defender comes out, heads it away.
You see it coming.
Take a step and half back
to accommodate the bounce.
Bang, on the half volley. Straight in.
Seaman didn't know what hit him.
- Come on.
- Not that one.
Oh, God, give me strength.
- Morning, Eric.
- Morning, love.
- Are the lifts working?
- No. Knackered again, I'm afraid.
Third time this week.
Must have been amazing though.
Sixty thousand people watching ya.
Cheering. Chanting your name.
- Scary, yeah.
- You, scared?
- Yeah.
- Never.
Scared it might stop.
I loved to surprise the crowd, you know?
Every time, in every game,
I tried to offer them a gift.
Sometimes it didn't work,
but then when it did...
- In our minds forever.
- Yeah.
But I had to surprise myself first.
Take a risk.
You know, it depends on the limits
you set yourself.
Play safe, no risk.
You know?
Remember Sunderland?
Ah, that was a beauty. Magnifique.
It was like a ballet. A dance.
Kept me going for months that goal.
...squeezed past a
couple of defenders. McClair.
Here's Cantona. He's done it.
That is magnificent by Cantona.
It just sort of fills you up so
much that you just
forget the rest of the shit in your life
just for a few hours.
I miss the games, me.
Only place where you can go
where you can let rip
without getting arrested.
Shout, scream, laugh.
- Yeah. Even cry.
- Yeah.
And see Englishmen kiss.
I mean, where else can you sing at the
top of your voice with all your mates?
That's what I really miss.
It's gotta be a good 10 years now
since I last went to a game.
All right. Sweetest moment ever?
It wasn't a goal.
- It's gotta be a goal, Eric.
- No.
Come on. Last minute.
FA Cup Final against Liverpool.
Beckham takes a corner.
The goalie runs out.
He punches it away. It hits your chest.
Hits the floor on its way up.
Bang, you just whack it
right in the net.
No.
Wimbledon. It's gotta be Wimbledon.
You're going towards the ball.
The ball's coming in.
You're sussing out the trajectory of it,
the angle of it.
The spin on it.
The way the wind's blowing.
The speed of the wind. Everything.
You stick your right foot out.
You stop it in mid-flight.
It bounces up about a foot off your leg.
You come back, you whack it in.
The most perfect volley in the world.
In it goes. It's a goal.
It's gotta be a goal, Eric.
It was a pass.
- A pass?
- Yeah.
My God. To Irwin against Spurs. Yes!
Beautiful.
I know how clever he was.
Left, right-footed.
Came in a flash. I just flicked it
with the outside of my boot.
Surprised everyone.
He took it in his stride
and my heart soared.
A gift.
Yeah, like an offering
to the Great God of Football.
What if he'd have missed?
You have to trust your teammates.
Always.
If not, we are lost.
It must have been tough on you
when you got banned.
Nine months? The bastards.
That twat got what he deserved.
I had to work hard, you know?
Dig deep inside.
I needed something to fill me up
when I was on my own.
Something to aim for, you know?
It's funny, innit?
Sometimes we forget that
you're just a man.
I'm not a man.
I am Cantona.
So what did you do
to keep yourself going?
I learn the trumpet.
- A trumpet?
- Yeah.
- You're taking the piss now, Eric.
- No. True.
Listen.
What?
Hi, Eric. I'm sorry about this.
I'm sorry to just call on you like this,
but your mobile's switched off.
Me mum's had a bit of a fall
and I'm gonna have to whip her
up to A and E.
Can you take Daisy for a couple of
hours? Just for a couple of hours
- while I get her up there.
- Yeah. Yeah. Of course.
- Can you grab the pram? Can I come in?
- Yeah, sorry, yeah.
- Come in, come in. I wasn't thinking.
- Cheers.
I'm just making tea.
Come straight through to the kitchen.
I've not tidied up in there yet, Lily.
Just come straight through.
So, butler on holiday, Eric?
Or have you sacked him?
Well, you know how it is
with two teenage lads.
- Oh, my God.
- I'll make a start on it anyway.
Hey, hello, baby. Hello.
Sam's gonna have to find somebody else.
- Lily.
- Sorry. Sorry.
Lily, don't run off like this. Lily.
Lily, wait.
Jess? Jess!
- What, man?
- Come here.
- Where's your bike?
- It's in the backyard.
Right, listen. Look after Daisy
for me for a while, right?
- What do you mean?
- Just look after her.
- Dad, I can't look after a baby.
- Yeah, well, learn.
Dad, I don't know how to. What do I do?
She's crying, Dad. Dad!
How's your mum?
My brother took her to hospital.
She's fine.
- She's just badly bruised.
- Look...
I just thought I...
I thought I'd better explain, really.
- Explain?
- Yeah.
Explain?
I was just 21, Eric.
I had your baby.
I loved you to absolute pieces.
You walked out on me.
Never come back.
And you left me to
raise a child on my own.
Do you want me to explain
how I cried myself to sleep every night?
How I fell apart.
And I had to rebuild my life.
Just go, Eric Bishop.
Because I don't care.
She hates you. Right?
Now we are going somewhere.
Well, we're going nowhere.
I mean, she's right,
I've totally flipped.
We're both fucking grandparents.
What?
Look, I'm getting a bit fed up
with all this bullshit, right.
- Okay. I don't translate.
- Oh, that's fine with me.
Oh, fuck it. What does it mean?
- Oh, come on, tell us.
- No.
Oh, look. You can't just say it
and then just forget about it like that.
I will not be a burden.
Oh, you're not a burden, mate,
you know that.
You're welcome here any time.
There's no way you're a burden.
Just tell us what it means.
The noblest vengeance is to forgive.
She might forgive me?
Shit. It's Lily.
"Meet me in the pub.
You know which one. Now. "
Fucking hell.
I told you.
Hi, Lily. Would you like a drink?
- I'll just have half a cider, please.
- Okay.
- Can I have, half a cider, please?
- Yeah, sure.
There you go.
Seems like yesterday.
I know. It's hardly changed, has it?
But we have.
I'm really scared about opening
all this up, you know, Lily.
Just tell me, Eric.
I need to hear this.
- Just tell me.
- Okay.
The first time it happened was at
Sam's christening party. Remember?
At first I thought it was
just too hot, too smoky.
You know, too many people
in the same room.
All that hand-shaking and back-slapping.
"What's your plans now, son?"
"Different ball game now, son. "
On and on and on they went,
again and again.
Then the old man come over.
No back-slapping from him.
Just them hard little eyes
and that clipped tongue of his.
And I saw you in the corner with Sam,
you were feeding her.
I remember 'cause you blew me a kiss.
But for some reason, that made him mad.
And he sort of grabs me on
the back of the neck
like he used to do when I was a kid.
Shoving me backwards and forwards like
a fucking game show
host with a contestant.
"Fucking kisses?
Let's see how long that lasts.
"You had the brains to go to college.
"Now we'll see what you're made of.
"You've made your bed now, son,
you can lie on it. "
Felt like me head was in a
plastic bag or something.
Then he started prodding me with that
stubby little fucking finger of his.
I felt like...
I felt like I was floating off.
It was like I was
coming out of me own body.
I was up there stuck on the
fucking ceiling looking down at meself.
Eric Bishop with Jack Bishop,
ironmonger, prodding me in slow motion.
Hey, where you going?
It was a panic attack, Eric.
They're more common than you think.
I mean, we come across it more or less
all the time at the clinic.
I didn't know what it was.
About half an hour later,
when I'd calmed down, I came back.
I came in and I just put an act on.
And you know what?
I've been doing that ever since.
Putting an act on.
But why couldn't you tell me?
I just blanked it out.
Even from meself.
I was terrified.
I thought I was going fucking bats
like me Uncle Michael.
Later on, I'd see you feeding Sam.
And I don't know, I can't explain it,
but I just couldn't handle it.
I just couldn't handle it.
It freaked me out.
And then it got to the problem
where I was scared of going home.
Scared of going back to me own gaff.
I just thought you'd gone cold.
- No.
- Regretted the baby.
No way.
I just wanted you to touch me, Eric.
I felt fat, ugly.
My clothes always stinking of milk.
No.
And I remember I had
a right go at you, didn't I?
Oh, God, yeah.
I didn't know I could scream like that.
Neither did I.
Mind you, I don't blame ya.
Staying out, getting drunk.
Off with the lads all the time.
Excuses.
All the lies you told.
I know. It's not so much
the fact that I left you,
which I did, I hold me hands up.
I just couldn't get back.
I just couldn't get back.
Are you all right, Daisy? Yes, you are.
Oh. There you go.
And up again.
- Spleen, all right, mate?
- How are you, mate?
- Are you coming?
- I can't. I've got the baby, haven't I?
- Eric. You all right, mate?
- Hey, Meatballs.
- How's it going? How's it going?
- You all right, mate?
- Okay, yeah.
- Hey, little Dolly.
- Daisy.
- Hey, what do you reckon, Eric?
- Hiya, Dolly.
- Plenty of new blood, eh?
Tell you what.
Going from strength to strength here.
- We're on our way.
- Bring her with us.
You coming or what?
- You can get on and bring kid.
- Put her on the bus.
Hey. Yeah, I'll come,
I'll come one time, yeah.
No, I can't. I've gotta meet Lily,
haven't I?
- You're gonna meet who?
- Lily.
You're joking?
- No, I'm not. I'm not.
- When did this happen?
Hang on, we're only...
We only meet and have a chat when we
swap over the granddaughter, Daisy.
You're a bit of a sly dog, aren't ya?
Nowt to it, mate. Jesus Christ, don't
jump the gun here, what...
Hey, get in there, mate.
Eric's meeting Lily
Shut it! Shut up.
Eric's meeting Lily
Shut it. Shut up.
Take no notice of him.
- Eric Bishop's meeting Lily
- Go on, get on your bus.
- See ya, Dolly.
- Daisy.
Eric's meeting Lily
Here, listen have a good match.
Shut it, shut it.
You know what, Lily?
I'll always be grateful that you never
turned her against me, you know.
To be honest, it hurt that she
had so much fun with you.
Just didn't seem fair somehow.
Well, you got all the crap, didn't you?
Homework. Complaints.
I just took her to see Cantona.
Yes and no.
You know something,
I was so furious with you at first.
And then I got to thinking,
"My God, what that man is missing. "
Jesus, is there something
wrong with Daisy?
No.
No, nothing. She's
sleeping like an angel. Why?
Why? Well, look at you
together, you two.
This never happens.
Have you been talking?
No, we've been sat
here in silence, Sam.
I mean, God, what would me
and your dad have to talk about?
- She ain't gonna bite you, Dad.
- I know, I know.
- I'm just shocked, that's all.
- Yeah.
I was sat about six inches
away from her.
I just wanted to put me arms
round her and I couldn't.
When you have learned
how to ride a bike,
how to kick a ball,
it's for all your life.
Not for me, mate. I've lost it.
It's all gone.
Nobody forgets rock 'n' roll.
I haven't, you know,
haven't touched anyone in years.
I mean, I just can't.
She touched me on the arm.
Fuck me, I just froze.
Anyway, enough of that bollocks.
Let's talk about football.
Tell us about Fergie at Old Trafford.
Is he...
There is no such word as can't.
- Let's dance.
- Let's dance?
- I'm the girl. Come on.
- You're the girl?
Whoa, fucking hang
on a minute now, mate.
I think you've got
the wrong end of the stick here.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
that's just a step too far now.
Right, that's it. What the fuck?
You know what?
We're smoking too much of this shit,
you know.
It's gonna have to stop.
Women.
She works part time
so she can help her mum.
Help Sam. She does baby massage.
Same at the old folks' home.
She just nourishes
everything she touches.
Know what she told me?
"You caused me to change, Eric.
"Everything I imagined crumbled.
"I never expected to be on me own. "
- Do you know what I do?
- What?
No, I shouldn't be telling you this.
Well, you gotta tell me now, Lily.
Come on.
About once every three months,
I go on the net and I'll pick out
a little bed and breakfast.
You know,
by a river or maybe a nice walk.
Even by the sea sometimes
or a little church.
And then I just up and I go.
Never the same place,
so it's always a little adventure.
- It sounds great.
- Yeah.
Do you not get a bit lonely
when you go to these places though?
No. Sometimes I take a lover.
Shocked?
Well, I suppose
it's inevitable really, innit?
Probablement, some lean, shy,
athletic foreign student
fascinated by a mature woman
with gentle hands.
Fucking hell, mate, I was hoping
it was some bald bastard from Bolton.
Fucking hell.
- No way.
- These are yours.
Jesus Christ, I don't believe it.
Me blue suede shoes.
I had a bonfire in
the back garden one night.
Went round the house and I gathered
absolutely everything
that belonged to you.
Come to throwing them on and,
well, I just couldn't do it.
Thank God for that.
That was a good night.
You know what? It was the best night.
I like this woman.
I like this woman a lot.
She has big balls.
Big balls, Eric, you know?
Yeah, well, one day she's gonna
look me straight in the eye
and not feel sorry for me.
That's all I want.
Personal trainer. New regime. Day one.
- What?
- Come on.
I'll show you.
Front and side. Yeah. Front and side.
Open it. Open yourself to the right.
And with a jump. Okay?
Jump, open.
Jog.
Right, jump and open.
Left, jump, open.
Good. And again.
And again.
Good.
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
What's it look like I'm doing?
I'm keeping fit, mate.
- What?
- Youse two wanna try it sometime.
Are you all right?
Part of me new regime.
I'm a changed man.
You're something.
You two, come over to my gaff tonight.
About seven o'clock.
And bring Meatballs with ya.
Still jogging?
- What's happening?
- All right, lad?
- Right, lads. Come in.
- What's the big news?
- What's the Bobby Moore?
- Right, I'm having a clear-out, right?
There's far too much shit
in this house for a start.
- Not kidding, are you.
- Too many TVs.
So we're having a clear-out of tellies.
Telly number one. In here, lads.
Right, here we go.
- Hello, ladies.
- Whoa.
Aye aye, what's going on here?
- Fucking hell.
- What you doing?
Is that Maureen
from the mini mart?
Eric, get out.
Come on, what you doing?
No, I've seen this. It's called,
Shaving Ryan's Privates.
Eh, Ryan?
Eric, can you fuck off, please?
We're just chillin'.
You can't tell
your dad to fuck off.
You're smoking a spliff,
you got beer on the go,
you're watching a porn film.
Show him some respect.
Yeah, well what's
it got to do with you?
Get the telly out, lads.
That's enough. Come on.
Right, come on, let's be having it.
You're not taking my telly.
That's my telly.
There's another one in the kitchen.
That's my telly. I got that for you.
One in Jess's room.
Leave the one in mine, Spleen.
Don't even think
about going in my room, Spleen.
- Cheers, lads.
- What you doing? Put that back!
That's my telly! That's my telly.
You're not taking...
I brought that for you.
- Cheers, lads.
- What you taking it for?
Spleen's gonna get
the one in the kitchen.
And there's one in Ryan's
room and one in Jess's room.
Don't even think about going in my room.
Leave the one
in my room, eh, lads.
- Don't...
- Thanks a lot.
Leave the one in your room?
What, what are you doing?
Why are you taking my telly?
That smells good, Dad.
- Oh, it is. Lovely.
- What is it?
Steak, chips,
peas, carrots and gravy.
- About time, Eric. I'm starving.
- Yes.
Dearie me.
Where's our plates?
Didn't I tell you, lads?
Oh, sorry, I forgot.
New rules. No work, no food.
What?
I've been waiting for this.
I ain't eaten all day.
So?
Oh, yeah.
Play your games, Eric. Not arsed.
Good. 'Cause it makes me feel great.
Yeah, I hope it does.
'Cause you don't have a clue.
Fucking mangey twat.
I hope you choke on it, you cunt.
Hello?
Eric, did you just phone me?
Yeah, that was me, Lily.
And what did you want?
Christ, I've forgotten what
I was gonna ask ya.
So you thought you'd
put the phone down on me?
Oh, no. I was just wondering if
you'd like to come round
at the weekend, you know,
for a bite to eat?
Sam can come as well, you know,
when she's finished.
Only if you want to, like,
and you've got nowt on.
You know, if you're not in
the Lake District at a B and B
with your young athletic lover
having a shag.
Very funny, Eric.
I didn't mean it like that, Lily.
Yes. Yeah, I'd like that, Eric.
I must warn you.
I'm a vegetarian now, though.
Okay. Yeah, no problem.
- That's great. Thanks, Eric.
- See ya. Bye.
Bye. Bye.
Yes! Fucking hell.
Shit.
Did you know about this?
Tell me the truth now, Jess.
I fucking mean it this time.
Honestly, Dad, I don't know.
Jesus Christ. What the fuck
is going on in me own house?
I don't know, Dad.
Listen, maybe it's fake.
It's not fucking fake, is it?
That twat in the black car.
Who the fuck is he, Jess?
Zac.
He's a real hard case.
And he's done time.
He's clever, yeah?
But he's fucking mad.
Well, when did it start?
Why the fuck didn't you tell me?
- Well, I did try and tell you, but...
- But fucking what?
It seems like you don't care.
Fuck!
You looking for this?
Pass that thing here.
Thing? It's a fucking gun, Ryan.
What are you doing in my room? It's none
of your fucking business. Pass it.
This is my house!
It is my fucking business!
Eric, you don't know what's
going on. Just give it to me.
Well, you better fucking tell me then.
If I don't get that to him, yeah?
I'm in the shit. We all are.
You better go and tell him to fuck off.
Or I will, all right?
You're not fucking having it, Ryan.
Fuck off!
Give me the fucking gun, Eric!
Give me the fucking gun, Eric!
Bollocks!
- You're going fucking nowhere.
- Get off me!
You're going fucking nowhere.
- Fucking nowhere.
- What you doing? Give it!
No. Fuck off. Bastard.
You fucking stupid little prick!
- Dad, are you all right?
- I'm fine. Shit. Bastard.
Look at your head.
You're covered in blood.
Oh, shit.
Fuck. I'm all right, I'm all right.
Are you sure, Dad?
Right.
Listen. I'll ring Meatballs, right?
He said I could use his car.
Get round to his house,
get the fucking keys off him,
get back here as quick as you can.
Dad, I'm not leaving you like this.
Just go on. I can't go round.
If Meatballs sees this, he'll freak.
Go on. Jess, I'll be all right.
- Dad, I'll be quick, yeah?
- Yeah, quick as you can, lad.
Fuck.
Oh, God, this is like looking
for a needle in a haystack,
Jess, we could be here all night.
I know, Dad, but...
What's he saying?
Everyone's saying,
no, they haven't seen him.
Oh, shit.
- Well?
- Same again.
Have you seen this guy?
He's called Ryan, yeah.
And he's about 19.
And he's wearing a blue top.
What?
- What's up?
- Dad, there's been a shooting.
- For fuck's sake.
- At the pool club on Back Turner Street.
Fuck, man,
don't say he's been shot.
- Go, Dad.
- Or fucking shot someone.
Well, he hasn't, has he?
'Cause he's wearing a bullet-proof.
- He's what?
- Well, didn't you see it before?
A fucking bullet-proof vest?
Are you kiddin' me?
I thought you knew.
How am I supposed to know he's got...
For fuck's sake, Jess.
Right, it's the next left here.
- For fuck's sake.
- What's going on here?
- Look at this, for fuck's sake, man.
- That's the club there.
There's a fucking ambulance there
as well.
Try and have a fucking look.
There's someone going in
the fucking ambulance, man.
- I can't see, Dad.
- Can you see owt, Jess?
- I can't see anything.
- Fucking have a look.
For fuck's sake.
I can't see him. I can't see him, Dad.
There's no-one in
the fucking ambulance yet.
I can't see anything.
No one's there.
The fucking copper's
waving me on, for fuck's sake.
- They're armed police!
- Can you see owt?
All right. Fucking hell,
they're tooled up to fuck, man.
What the fuck is going on, Ryan?
Don't know what to do, Eric.
- You shot someone?
- No.
First he told me it was just a fake.
Then it was only to defend himself.
I was just hiding it.
Just hiding it?
Someone else just pulls the trigger.
And some kid just gets
his head blown off.
I didn't think that were gonna happen.
Zac asked me to do it as
a favour just for one night.
Did he pay ya?
Just sort of like brought me
to the games. Nightclubs.
Gave me 200. After a week,
I said, I told him,
"I don't wanna look after it any more. "
But he just shook his head
and started laughing.
Why doesn't he hold it?
It's back to prison if he gets caught.
But he needs it close.
And he can get it
from me in five minutes.
And if you get caught?
I get five years, Eric, minimum.
Fuck, Ryan! That's five years
out your life, you fucking prick!
He shot someone.
- A drug dealer?
- No.
You've got no idea, Eric.
Someone insulted him at the club.
You're telling me he shot someone
because he insulted him?
Yeah.
Jesus fucking Christ.
- Did he kill him?
- No.
He shot him in the back. He'll live.
Right, that's it. We're going
to the cops, right fucking now!
- Come on! Cops, now!
- No. No. No. You can't, Eric.
- Eric!
- Why the fuck not?
We just go to the cops
and tell 'em everything.
No. Listen to me. You can't.
They said they'd get Jess.
Trust me. They've done it before.
I've heard them talking.
Please, Eric, listen to me.
If we go to the coppers, yeah,
they'll fucking set the dogs on Jess.
They'll rip his fucking face apart.
Fuck's sake.
Fucking... What the fuck's going on?
I can't fucking believe it.
If I get off, they get Jess.
That's how...
That's how it fucking works,
do you know what I mean?
I've got to speak to him.
You can't speak to him.
He's not like you or your mates.
They don't give a fuck.
But we can't fucking live like this.
We can't go to the cops.
You can't run off.
I've gotta find him, ain't I?
No, you can't. Eric, listen.
Promise me, you won't.
- Right, give me his number.
- No.
- Give me his number.
- No, you don't...
Ryan, give me his fucking number or
I'll wash me hands of ya, period!
Fucking number, now.
Fuck me. How are you, Jack?
I'm all right. Name's Eric.
Jack. Jack Nicholson. One Flew Over
The Cuckoo's Nest and all that shit.
Heard you've been having a bit of
a bad time of it recently, ain't ya?
In with the fruitcakes
and the loonies and all that.
Nasty rumours them, Jack.
Listen. You've gotta
take this back, right.
I haven't seen it.
I won't say anything.
Got to? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
I can't fucking...
You know, I can't touch that now.
More germs than a sailor's cock them
things, you know what I mean?
Put it away.
- D'you know my nickname?
- No.
The Prophet.
I can sense the future, me.
And I sense that
you're gonna fuck off home
with your tail
between your fucking legs.
Up the carpet, up the floorboard
and you're gonna put that back.
Yes, yeah, you fucking are.
I can't. Listen.
If you don't want it,
right, I'll just throw it away,
and that's the end of it.
- Throw it away, will ya?
- Yeah.
Here are, Buzz.
Come on, Buzz, let's have ya.
Oh, for fuck's sake. Fuck off.
I'm fucking kidding.
- Get him. Go on. Go on, boy.
- Let me go, you bastards!
- Made your mind up?
- Fucking have him.
- Go on. Get him, boy.
- Fuck off.
Let me go, you bastards.
- What d'you wanna do, Jack?
- Go on, boy.
Fuck off. Get it out.
Bite him! Bite the bastard! Get him!
Dad?
You all right?
You ready? Ready? Here we go.
Open wide.
Lovely, eh?
- Tasty. Tasty.
- Yeah?
That's nice, isn't it, eh?
Here we are. Look at this.
Oh, no way. Look at that.
- Wow.
- Made by me.
You made that?
Yeah. Don't laugh.
He didn't even make it.
He bought it.
Well, I got the recipe from
the internet, but still I made it.
- I had to bribe him to do it.
- Did ya?
It'd have been cheaper for me to
get Gordon Ramsay round.
- Well, at least I made it.
- I'm not kidding.
I tell you what,
Jess, it does look nice, lad.
- It does.
- That looks gorgeous.
Look what your Uncle Jess has made.
Yes, I'll have some of that definitely.
Here you are.
Might even put some in the liquidiser
and give you some, mightn't we?
- Cheers. Cheers.
- Well, Mum, Dad.
Here's to you both.
Seriously, I cannot thank you
enough for what you've done.
I would never have managed without ya.
- Come on.
- Don't tempt fate.
Well, no. My supervisor said
that my work's pretty good.
So, I know it's a bit late, but I should
be able to graduate with everybody else.
Tell you what, love, though,
you've worked really hard for it.
- You don't half deserve it.
- Thank you.
Well, that's down to you two.
Seriously, I managed to get
a good run at it,
and I could not have done it, honestly.
I can't thank you enough.
- Are you okay, Eric?
- Yeah, I'm fine.
I've just got this headache
I can't get rid of.
Hope it isn't us.
No. It's been
a lovely night tonight, Lily.
Honestly.
What is it then?
It's just the boys. It's a long story.
I just, gotta figure out
how to cope, that's all.
So there is something wrong.
What is it?
Shit. It's not worth moaning about.
I just need time to figure it all out.
D'you know what, Eric?
Sometimes you just have to risk it.
Share things.
I'll get there.
Fancy a coffee?
Yeah, okay.
Armed police!
Armed police officer.
Get on the ground!
- Get down on the floor!
- Fuck off!
Fucking not moving.
Fucking not moving.
Not moving. Not moving.
Put your hands behind your back.
Put your hands behind your back.
Both of ya.
Just do as they say,
no harm will come to you.
Do as we say. It's all right.
It's all right, Lily.
Leave us. Leave 'em alone.
It's okay, Lily.
There's a fucking baby!
Lily. Lily, calm down.
Bring him here.
Up on your feet!
- Help me.
- All right, Lily.
All right. All right. Come on.
Onto your knees.
- Onto your knees.
- I'm on me knees.
Onto your feet.
Right, outside. Just keep going.
It's okay, sweetheart.
It's all right now.
- That's one out.
- One out.
Fuck's going on?
Fuckers! Jess.
- Dad!
- Sam, are you okay?
- Sam, are you all right?
- Dad!
Sam! Sam!
What the fuck's going on?
Lily, are you all right, love?
Lily, are you all right?
Oh, fucking hell.
Lily, are you okay?
What the fuck is going on?
Where have the fucking lads gone?
What the fuck's going on?
They're looking for a gun.
Are the lads in a gang?
- No, don't be daft.
- Look at me.
Is there a gun in the house?
If you invited me, Daisy and Sam
into that house with a gun in it,
you know what that means,
don't you, Eric?
Yeah, Lily.
Course I know what that means. Yeah.
Now, what really happened
to your eye, Eric?
- To me eye?
- Yes.
I told you what happened, Lily.
Some nutter on the post round
just hit me. I told ya.
Hiya. Hiya. We've got your daughter
and grandchild in a police car outside
waiting to take them home.
If you wanna follow me,
we'll take you right now, okay?
- Okay.
- All right?
I don't get it.
They've lifted the floorboards.
Where's it gone?
Fucking state of this.
They've lifted the floorboards.
Where's it gone?
That's a good question.
- Are you surprised?
- Eric, you fucking beauty.
- Eh? You surprised, eh?
- Very surprised.
Oh. So was the fucking chicken.
- Fucking hell.
- Yes, Dad!
Hey, I've never been a lover of chicken,
but I love this one.
- Oh, God's sake.
- It's him. Zac.
Put it on loudspeaker.
Put it on.
Yeah, it's me.
Have they gone?
Yeah. How the fuck do you know?
Right, Ryan. You still got it or what?
Yeah, I still got it.
Good.
Right, this calls for a bit
of a bonus, then, eh?
- D'you hear me?
- Yeah, yeah.
Good. I'm gonna need it soon.
Very fucking soon.
So what are you
gonna do now then, eh, Ryan?
Let that fucker shoot
another kid in the back
for laughing at his shirt or something,
then stick it under your bed for him,
eh?
Fucking ruining other people's lives.
Your brother's. Sam. Lily.
- And yours, Dad.
- Yeah. And mine.
If we ever get through this shit,
things are fucking changing
round here big time.
Oh, what fucking now?
What's that about?
They've put a video of you on YouTube.
Who's put me on fucking YouTube?
Who d'you think?
Think you better have a look.
That fucking twat with the camera!
That's why that fucking twat
had that camera!
Come on, boy. Come on, boy.
Let me out. Get him out.
Get him out, for fuck's sake.
Get me away from it. Bastards!
Let me out!
I'm sat there,
Eric, with me two sons, right?
And I'm looking at meself, I'm looking
at meself being humiliated.
And it was like being out of me
body again,
looking down on meself,
yet again being humiliated.
I can't fucking cope with it, mate.
I don't know what to do, Eric.
There's nowt I can do.
Always got more choices than we think.
Always. More possibilities.
Oh, not another shave? I've done that.
Different possibilities.
Different thing.
You try something, it doesn't work.
Try something else. Always.
Like what?
Your teammates.
Oh, God, I, couldn't even begin
to think about telling me mates.
I mean, where do I start?
"Have you got a minute, lads, yeah?
"It's about my lad. He's minding
a gun for the local psychopath
"who shoots kids in the back if they
laugh at the colour of his shoes. "
I mean, God, I'm just too ashamed.
I don't know what they'd think.
They are your friends, are they?
Yeah, they're me mates, yeah.
You think you can say everything
to your friends?
Yeah, I suppose you can, yeah.
So trust them.
- Play him at his own game.
- Harass him.
- Like what?
- Put the gun in his house
and phone the fucking dibble.
- Yeah, but gun in his house.
- You can't do that because if...
- Why can't you do that?
- 'Cause he's gonna get fucked over.
The only thing you can do
is phone the police.
It's out. Out of the question.
- There's a gun in your house.
- Shut up.
Stop going on about lynch mob,
fuck's sake.
- Here are, he'll know.
- Meatballs.
All right, Meats?
- All right, mate?
- Psychos.
- Another book.
- They don't give a flying fuck.
We know that.
Is that the latest research
from Stanford?
You can't negotiate with 'em,
you can't reason with 'em. Right?
You've just gotta fuck 'em up.
You've gotta scare the shite out of 'em.
You've gotta make them think
"This is not fucking worth it. "
They're a big gang of thugs,
aren't they?
I mean, like they got muscles
coming out of their arse, ain't they?
And they got, like... They got guns
and baseball bats.
I don't care about all this
bullshit gangster talk.
Listen, does anyone
want a drink? I'll get 'em in.
- Right. Who, who's on what here?
- Get me one.
- Yeah, get us a pint of bitter.
- Right, okay.
Oh, I'll just say fucking
"same again". He knows.
Hurry up.
- Thanks, Eric.
- All right, all right.
I still say we've
gotta phone the police.
Oh, will you fuck off
with the police?
Steve. Can I have a round, please?
Usual, Eric?
Yeah, yeah, same again
for them lot, please, mate.
- Eric.
- What the fuck are you doing here?
He that sews thistles
shall reap prickles.
What?
He that sews thistles
shall reap prickles.
- Thistles, prickles?
- Yeah.
If they are faster than you,
don't try and outrun them.
If they are taller,
don't out-jump them. Right?
If they are stronger
on the left, you go right.
- Remember?
- Yeah. Yeah.
Right. But not always.
To surprise them,
got to surprise yourself first.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
- Right?
- Yeah. Okay.
- Okay.
Fuck, yeah.
Here you go, Eric. There's your drinks.
Right, yeah. Cheers. Listen.
Stick the rest of 'em on the bar
there along with me change, right?
- Okay. Thank you.
- Nice one, mate. Cheers.
- Nice one.
- Fucking hell.
Here we are, here we are.
- Good man.
- Who wants what?
- Have you got 'em all there?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get 'em.
- Here you go.
- Right.
- Lager. Bitter.
- Ah, wrong one. Spleens.
Right, listen.
What is he frightened of?
- Spleen. Spleen.
- What's he frightened of?
Gangsters. Other gangsters.
- No. No.
- Police.
- His nana?
- No.
Knock fuck out of him, he'll come up
smiling just to spite you.
- Unions.
- No.
Go on. What?
Give us a clue.
Losing face. He's frightened of
losing face, ain't he?
Think about it.
Fucking wide-boy like him.
That's what I was saying.
Change. Me change, as well.
So if we could think of some way
of embarrassing him?
- Yeah.
- Yeah, his psyche.
Showing him up?
Yeah. Something like that. Fucking hell.
- YouTube.
- YouTube?
YouTube.
What the fuck's? Is that, is
that a new kind of Brylcreem or what?
No, he's right.
He's fucking right.
YouTube. Listen.
When's the next away match?
What sort of video?
Okay. Here we go.
It's the East Lancs A580
directly to Worsley Road.
Take the...
Left turn on to A572 for rendezvous,
ETA 1200 hours.
Over. Do you hear me?
Meatballs, are you near me?
Getting me head down.
Travis, are you, where are you?
I have lost radio contact.
Where are you?
Where are you? Meatballs,
where are you, for fuck's sake?
This is going to cock.
This has all been planned.
- Where's coach two?
- There, dickhead.
Where's coach two? Where is it?
What the fucking hell is going on?
You're worse than
the fucking Yanks in Baghdad, you!
What the fuck is going on in here?
What are you doing?
Tell him to slow down.
What are you doing?
Slow down.
Driver, hurry up, for fuck's sake.
Spoil it. Just fucking sit down!
Okay, men, take convoy. Stay back.
Okay, men, stay in
Let's get it done.
Let's go. Come on, let's fucking go.
Come on,
let's sort this out now.
Stop fucking about.
You know what you need to do.
We need to get in
and out of there, get that job done.
We got 45 minutes.
We don't wanna miss kick-off.
- Are we all right for it?
- Yes!
- Are we all up for it?
- Yes!
Operation Cantona!
What a friend we have in Jesus
He's our saviour from afar
What a friend we have in Jesus
And his name is Cantona
Ooh, ah, Cantona
Ooh, ah, Cantona
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh, ah
Cantona, ooh, ah, Cantona
Wait a minute. Fucking dog.
- How big is it?
- Fucking big.
Big. It's fucking big.
Should have brought some steak.
Give us them sausages.
- Here are, here are.
- Here, for fuck's sake.
- Come on, get him. Get him.
- He's here.
Fucking hell,
look at the size of that!
Shut up, shut up.
God, you big ugly git.
Get it in the loop.
- All right. Hang on. Fuck's sake, man.
- Come on.
Come on.
It's gonna have me fucking hand off.
- Right. Here, here, here. Right.
- Go on, go.
Get the fucker.
That's it, that's it, take it.
He's going,
he's going, going, going.
That's it. Got the fucker.
Shut up, shut up.
Post, special delivery.
Come on.
Right, Sonny.
Get hold of this bloody dog.
Okay, men. Operation Cantona.
- Express yourselves.
- Express yourselves.
Come on!
Fucking hell's going on?
Oi! Nobby.
Go and get Fenner.
- Fenner.
- Fenner, get out of fucking bed.
- Fenner.
- Where's the dog?
What? What you shouting for?
Have a look out
the fucking window.
- Where's the phone?
- What?
- Fenner, phone, Buzz.
- Fenner.
Fucking hell!
The fuck's going on?
What? What? What the fuck is going on?
Get off the fucking car.
Get the fucking bat. Hey!
Have a look. Look out the window.
Get off the car. Hey.
- Come on then. Who fucking wants it?
- Oh, there you are.
Come on. Get off the fucking grass.
Who wants it?
I'll take your fucking head off.
- Leave him alone, you.
- Shut up, you cunt. Come on.
- What are you gonna do, eh?
- Turn that fucking camera off
or I'll fucking have you, you fucking.
You gonna do us all, are ya?
I'll have you first, you fucking fat
cunt. And then this little cunt here.
- You recognise that?
- Do I fuck!
Eh, you fucking do. It's yours. Eh?
Fucking. What you fucking...
You're talking shit, you prick.
All of ya, fucking come on.
Right, boys. Fire!
- Turn it off!
- What are you fucking doing?
- There you go.
- Oh, fuck off!
- Come on.
- You're a fucking joke.
Fuck off.
Fuck off. Fuck off. Hey, is this it?
Right, boys. Get in there.
- Come on. Come on.
- Fucking come on.
Get away with that fucking camera.
- D'you recognise it now?
- Get it out the face.
- What?
- Do you recognise it now?
It's a fucking gun. What d'you want?
What d'you fucking want?
Do you recognise it?
It's a fucking gun.
There's hundreds of 'em.
Oh, fucking nice one.
- D'you recognise it now, eh?
- Fucking nice one.
- Acknowledge it now.
- Get out of me...
No, it's a fucking gun.
No, I've never fucking seen it.
Get to fuck.
Fucking hell! No! Leave it out! Fuck!
- Do you recognise it?
- Fuck off.
Right, boys.
- Decorate!
- What?
Fucking hell. You got it in me eye!
You fucking divs.
Do you recognise it now?
Do you recognise it now?
Fuck off.
Okay, boys, hold fire.
Hold it. Hold it.
All right, boys, it's a court. Get back.
You fucker.
All right, fat Eric,
I've fucking seen it.
- And?
- Well, you fucking win.
You get that, boys?
Ladies and gentlemen,
before your very eyes,
I am gonna smash this
bleedin' gun into smithereens.
Whoa, not the fucking tiles.
They're Italian, them.
- Are they Italian?
- Yeah.
You fucking twat.
You fucking cunt. Fucking pack it in!
You know that family?
You don't go near 'em.
You don't look at 'em, you don't talk
to 'em, you don't even think about 'em.
Because you know what'll happen?
Come on, tosspot,
I thought you could tell the future.
Well, let me tell you your future.
We're gonna turn up
here with 10 coach loads
and we're gonna take this house
apart, brick by fucking brick.
And this little movie that you've been
starring in with your little mate.
One word to Ryan
and it's gonna be on BlueTube.
It's YouTube.
It's called YouTube.
Well, whatever it is.
You're gonna be on it.
With your fucking poncy posing pouch
and your gimp of a mate,
and all the people laughing
at your little red willy.
You fancy that, do ya? Eh?
And if you try and run away
to some bolt-hole in Blackpool
or some rabbit hole
in the Outer Hebrides,
we'll find ya.
I'll find ya! You know why?
'Cause I'm a fucking postman!
Ooh, ah, Cantona
Ooh, ah, ooh, ah, ooh, ah
Cantona
Get on, boys. Well done.
Come on, let's get to the match.
Let's get a few beers.
Well done, boys, well done.
Oh, man. Oi, Eric,
fucking thanks so much, mate.
It's what I'm here for, innit?
D'you know what I mean?
I would have done anything.
And then, like, you've
sorted all that out, and like...
It's all right.
I'm just, I'm sorry
as well, d'you know, like?
- It's all right.
- At least we got troubles no more.
- Thanks. Thanks, Eric.
- You're welcome, son.
- You're welcome, honest.
- Seriously, man. Sorted.
Have you spoke to Lily?
Nah. She's not
returning me calls, is she?
You've got to speak to her.
Just tell her what happened
and that and she'll understand.
Listen, that's all finished with, that.
I mean, she's had enough. You know what?
I can't say I blame her, really.
Yeah, but she ain't had enough.
If she knows about what I
did and how you helped me out and that.
- Listen, lads. Listen. Leave it.
- We're waiting for you lot.
Call her or something, then. Dad.
I will, I will, I will.
Come on, Cantona, you dozy git.
I hope you haven't been robbing.
Come on. We're gonna miss the match.
Come on.
- It's a nice place, isn't it?
- Yeah, yeah.
- Hiya. Are you all right.
- Yeah, are you?
I'm proud of you, kid, proud of you.
Oh, Dad.
So proud of you for Daisy as well.
Come on, Sam.
All the hooligans on the outside.
- There you go.
- Where do you want you?
In the wheelie bin.
Get in the back there, somewhere.
- Yeah?
- All right, come on.
No taking the piss out of my hairdo,
all right?
Oh, come on.
- You haven't got the book on it?
- I've gotta put it on portrait.
- Meatballs.
- Portrait.
I know what I'm doing.
I've been on a course.
Yeah, reading books.
That's it. No, come on.
Oh, no, this is so embarrassing.
Come on. Come on, it's your graduation.
Sam and Daisy, come on.
Come on, come on.
- Where's Jess? Cheers, mate.
- Come on. Right.
All right now.
God, she looks beautiful, doesn't she?
I'm so happy for her.
Listen, thanks for ringing, you know.
Made today a lot easier.
I was just so embarrassed
about meeting, you know,
after all that nonsense at the house.
Tell you what, I don't know
what I'd have done, Eric.
It took a lot of courage,
I'll give you that.
And d'you know, them boys,
they love you to pieces. So does Sam.
You must have done something right, eh?
I wanna take a picture of Mum and Dad.
Mum. Dad. Come on. Your turn now.
No, no. No, it's all right, love.
- Oh, come on. Come on. Come on.
- I want a picture of you two.
- Will you take her?
- Yeah, come on.
Come on, it'll be all right.
- Where do you want us?
- In the middle.
You're all right, it's on automatic
there, focus.
What, here?
- Just press that.
- Do I just press that? Okay.
- All right. Nice one.
- Look at him.
Dad, what the hell
have you got on your feet?
It's me blue shoes.
Are you kidding me?
And you think I didn't notice,
you lunatic.
Lunatic? Moi?
That's a lovely one.
When the seagulls... follow the trawler,
it's because they think sardines
will be thrown into the sea.
Thank you very much.