Tony: I'm not very interested
in my school days
and feel no special
nostalgia for them.
But I remember sixth form.
Good morning.
And welcome to you all
as we begin the new term.
Tony: In those days
we imagined ourselves
as being in a holding pen,
waiting to be released
into our lives.
Headmaster:
From summer to Autumn.
So, too, do we think ahead...
Rather him than us.
Tony: And when
that moment would come,
we would be at university.
How were we to know that
our lives had already begun,
and our release would only be
into a larger holding pen?
And in time,
a larger holding pen.
When you are young,
you want your emotions
to be like the ones
you read about in books.
You want them
to overturn your life
and create a new reality.
But as that second hand
insists on speeding up
and time delivers us
all too quickly
into middle age,
and then old age,
that's when you want something
a little milder, don't you?
You want your emotions
to support your life
as it has become.
You want them to tell you
that everything
is going to be okay.
And is there anything
wrong with that?
Sir, according to
your recent survey,
95% of British motorists
describe themselves
as "above average" drivers.
But by the law of averages,
we are, most of us,
bound to be average.
Are we not?
Anthony Webster, London.
Good timing.
Sorry?
Oh... ah!
Sign there, thanks.
Lovely morning, isn't it?
Hmm.
Thank you.
Can I help you?
Just looking.
By all means.
Oh!
Wow.
These are beautiful.
How much is this one?
2,399.
2,000?
Extremely rare model.
Still works, huh?
Of course.
How do you source them?
On the Internet?
I've been in the Leica
business for some time,
so we have our own
exclusive sources.
"We"? It's just
you, isn't it?
So if there's anything you're
particularly interested in,
I may be able to help you.
Do you have anything cheaper?
Some Leica iiis, 500.
500?
Wow.
These are the finest
cameras ever made.
People buy them
because they love them.
Well, as they say,
I'd be rich
if I didn't have kids.
You got kids?
Excuse me?
I've got two baby girls.
I have a daughter.
Oh.
Fathers and daughters, eh?
Very special.
Okay.
Well, I'll look you up
when the kids have left home.
Tony Webster.
Have a lovely day, Tony Webster.
Okay.
Hello, Margaret.
I'm calling to remind you that
this evening you're
duty bound to attend NC with your beloved daughter.
Tonight?
Uh... oh, no, no, no,
sorry. No can do.
Oh, for god's sake.
This should be in your diary.
Susie's relying on you.
You know I can't do it
with this thing on my leg.
I'm winding you up.
Somebody's in a playful mood.
Always.
Well, don't forget to dig out
something loose-fitting.
Lycra. All-in-one.
Very attractive.
What are you doing this evening?
Working. What else?
Really?
So I'm expecting a full
report in the morning.
How's the foot, by the way?
Bye, Tony.
Oh, charming.
Susie: Hi.
It's me.
You're not mum.
Indeed, I'm not.
Your mother sent me.
I'm your geriatric
knight in shining armor.
Can you give me a minute?
Can I come in?
Thank you.
Radio presenter:
The prime minister
has insisted Britain
will be safer
and economically stronger
if it remains
in the European union.
He said a vote to leave
would cause such instability
on the financial markets
that the UK could be
tipped back into recession.
Right, dad, let's do this.
Have you seen this?
I know, I know.
It's the bollocking
upstairs neighbor.
What happened?
I dunno.
Overflowing bath or something.
That's ridiculous.
I know.
Come on.
I'll write to them.
Dad, no one writes
letters anymore.
So, I should probably warn you,
tonight will likely
feature lesbians.
I've known quite a number
of lesbians in my time,
thank you very much.
Artificially inseminated
lesbians.
I once knew
a pasteurized lesbian.
Just try not to say anything
too mental, will you?
The woman who runs the group
takes the whole thing
pretty seriously.
I'm sure she does.
Hi, I'm Tony. I'm this
evening's stand-in mother.
Standing in for the
mother of the mother.
You just rock with it.
And you will get a rhythm.
But, uh, not to worry.
I have been effectively
sterilized.
But the voice
of experience tonight.
Now the contraction comes.
So...
Sit up.
Your contraction's coming.
Hi, I'm Susie.
This is my first.
And I'm expecting
a boy in October.
You're in the arms
of your protector
and your baby,
and it's going to be fine.
And I think I'm gonna
name him Joshua.
Carla: Oh!
Really?
Yeah.
Carla: We've got another
surge that has started.
So...
You okay there, dad?
So maybe if you come
further down.
That's it.
See, this is the other thing.
It depends if your partner's
agile or not agile...
You know,
or to get into position.
It's taking them
into consideration as well
and make whatever's comfortable
for the both of you.
Me, as well.
Yes. It was amazing.
And so much fun.
Wait here a sec.
I wanna give you something.
Oh, all right.
Susie: Oh.
Male radio presenter:
There has, and continues to be
criticism of
the government's approach
to rebuilding Britain's economy.
And we're better placed
to withstand
an ideological drive
to shrink the state,
with some of the most
vulnerable people in society
paying the price.
Female presenter: A charge
that the ministers would,
of course, reject?
Male presenter: They'd insist
the tough measures
they're taking will ensure
Britain's finances get back
onto an even keel.
And we're better placed to
withstand any economic shocks
that may come our way
in the future.
Economic shocks such as,
for instance,
Britain exiting
the European union?
Whoops.
Susie: Here.
What's this?
Time to join the 21st century.
Not least because
I'm about to burst
and mum's an invalid.
You're my only hope.
Bye, dad.
Bye.
Oh, good morning.
Just about.
Um... right.
Let me get that...
Eighty-two...
Uh... and then you need to...
No. Oh, sorry. There.
Right.
Thanks.
Right. Have a nice...
Sarah: Dear Tony,
I think it right that
you should have the attached.
Adrian always
spoke warmly of you,
and perhaps you'll find it
an interesting, if painful,
memento of long ago.
I am also leaving you
some money.
You may find this a bit strange,
and, to tell you the truth,
I'm not entirely sure
what my own motives are,
but I wish you well,
even from beyond the grave.
Yours, Sarah Ford.
P.S., it may
sound a little odd,
but I think the last months
of his life were happy.
Amelia: Mr. Webster?
"Dear Tony, I think it right
you should have the attached.
"Adrian always
spoke warmly of you,
"and perhaps you will find it
an interesting, if painful,
"memento of long ago."
We do not currently...
So it is this attached item
referred to,
which is the missing item.
We do not currently have the
second item in our possession.
Excuse me?
I said, we do not currently have
the second item in our possession.
Well, where on earth is it?
Uh, the item is currently
with Mrs. Ford's executor.
Mrs. Ford's daughter.
Veronica?
Mmm.
You've asked for it, I assume?
That's correct.
Has she given any reason
for withholding it?
I'm afraid I don't know.
Forgive me,
but what do you know?
What is it?
Have you actually seen it?
No, I haven't. Um...
I can look it up for you, if you wish.
Please do.
So, Mrs. Ford's will
describes the second item
as a diary.
A diary?
Belonging to Mrs. Ford?
I'm afraid that's not clear.
Can you let me have
Veronica's address, please?
I'm sorry, we can't give out
clients' addresses
without their permission.
Veronica and I know one another.
Well, did know one another,
albeit rather a long time ago.
I'm afraid I would need
her authority to do that.
Well, will you kindly request
that authority, please?
Very well.
Thank you.
Thank you.
It was a pleasure
meeting you, Mr. Webster.
Goodbye.
And you should know
that my ex-wife is a QC.
Yeah, this all seems fine.
So, she has it. The diary.
That much at least we do know.
Sorry, who has it?
You know, those things
are really bad for you.
They just build up excess mucus.
I'm sorry, Dr. Webster,
didn't think we were here to
discuss my breadstick intake.
All right, Margaret.
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
I'll feel better
once we've eaten.
Once we've ordered. Ah.
Thank god.
Waiter: Sir, madam?
I'd like the carbonara, please.
And the penne con salsa
di Pomodoro e Basilico.
Thank you.
What?
So tell me. Tell me.
Not enjoying the party?
It's not really my cup of tea.
I'm a manic depressive, you see.
Not another one.
Clifton suspension bridge.
My mind's made up.
Done.
Mmm.
Well...
It was nice to meet you.
Young Tony: Uh... Tony.
Tony.
I wonder how far it is?
It's 245 feet.
So not very far, then.
Why is your watch
on the inside of your wrist?
Is it? I don't know.
So what's your subject, then?
Le Francais.
Oh.
Cheers.
Cheers.
Young Tony: You still haven't
told me your name.
I tend to find it inadvisable
to give out my name
to strange men
I've only just met.
Margaret: Sounds like
a fruitcake, this Sarah.
Veronica.
Her name's Veronica.
What? I thought you said
the diary belonged to Sarah?
Apparently, yes.
The diary, yes,
was left to me by Sarah Ford.
Who is?
Veronica's mother.
So, you...
You slept with Veronica
or you slept with Sarah?
Strictly speaking,
neither. Sadly.
Veronica and I were together.
Boyfriend and girlfriend.
Exactly, yes. Kind of...
Kind of an item, yes.
But that...
And that's how you know Sarah.
Yes.
Right. So we're
getting somewhere.
Looks like he's
planning to move in.
You look nervous.
Tony, this is my father.
Tony.
David.
We've heard all about you, Tony.
Come on. Let's get
you two lovebirds home.
Ta-da!
Oh, um, you can pee
into the basin at night,
if you wish.
Not bad, eh?
Jack.
I'm the big brother.
Tony.
Oh, we've heard
all about you, Tony.
Oh?
How do you like your lamb, Tony?
Sorry?
We're having lamb
this evening.
Oh, right. I see.
Excellent.
I'm, uh...
I'm partial to a bit
of rare meat myself.
I'll let you get settled.
Here, Tony,
have some roast potatoes.
Thank you.
Thank you, Mrs. Ford.
It all looks lovely.
Hear, hear.
Motion seconded.
Jack: And me, please, mother.
Thank you.
How many?
One more, please.
Sarah: Pass it down.
Do start.
Uh, a friend of mine's
at Cambridge, as it happens.
Adrian Finn?
Should I know him?
Uh, he's studying philosophy.
My deepest sympathies.
Sarah: And what about you,
Tony? You haven't told us
what your subject is.
English literature.
And what do you hope to do
with an undergraduate degree
in English literature?
Well, um, I hope to write.
Write?
Yes.
Poems. Poetry.
A poet?
And who's your favorite poet?
Mum.
Dylan Thomas.
David: Ah, yes.
The gloomy Welshman.
Jack: And the winds did bloom
and the brides
in the wooed field
did sew the coming summer frost
David: Ah, bravo, Jack.
See what I have to
put up with, Tony.
I'm partial to
a little Larkin myself.
Oh, yes.
He's wonderful, also.
I work all day,
and get half drunk at night.
Waking at four
to soundless dark,
I stare.
In time the curtain-edges
will go bright.
Jack: Hear, hear.
So...
Good night, then.
I didn't say anything
embarrassing at dinner, did I?
Why are you whispering?
I don't know.
Sorry.
I hope you sleep the sleep
of the wicked.
It's important you
understand the scale
of sexual frustration
of my younger self.
For god's sake.
You poor thing.
Are you sure there isn't
some un-doused fire
in your breast, Mr. Webster?
Quite sure.
So if the, let's presume,
still unmarried fruitcake
walked into this restaurant now
and sat in that table,
how would the long-divorced
Mr. Anthony Webster react?
I don't think I'd be
especially pleased to see her.
So you wouldn't start
rolling up your sleeves
and turning over your watch?
God. I wish
I'd never told you that.
Can we have another...
More coffee?
Come on, let's hear
the rest of it.
Sarah: Morning.
You looking for something?
No, I was just looking.
The others have gone for a walk.
Veronica said
you'd prefer a lie-in,
so we opted not to disturb you.
You hungry?
Yes.
Have a seat.
You won't let Veronica
get away with too much,
will you?
Sorry?
Don't let her get away
with too much.
Sorry, I'm not quite sure
I follow your meaning.
Oh! Damn it!
Whoops.
Sorry.
I'm normally very good at eggs.
Tony.
Ah. Thank you.
Well, Jack.
He'll do, I suppose.
Thanks for staying
the weekend, Tony.
Thank you, Mrs. Ford.
I like your mum.
Sounds like
you've got a rival, Vron.
Come to think of it, sounds
like you're not the only one.
Excuse me, I'm still speaking.
You don't say.
Something is clearly going on.
Someone you knew long ago
has left you something or other.
Exactly. Which has been
unduly withheld from me
and to which
I am legally entitled.
Well, you could fight it,
or you can just let it go.
Cash the check, take me
on a budget holiday.
250 each, get us
to the channel islands.
Listen, the point I'm...
Something is certainly going on,
so just call me when you
really want to talk about it.
Oh, and the foot's much better,
thanks for asking.
How is it, the foot?
Eleanor: So, I passed
on your letters,
all 13 of them, to miss Ford.
And?
While miss Ford
is still not ready
to part with the diary,
I can tell you that
the diary, it seems,
belonged to
a Mr. Adrian Finn.
I see.
Now I've raised your concern
in terms of if, or when...
you might be able to
receive Mr. Finn's diary.
Let me get this straight.
She should have handed
the diary over to you.
She hasn't.
You've asked for it,
but she's refusing
to give it up.
Yes, that's certainly
how things stand at present.
In my experience,
Mr. Webster,
people often like to
take some time out
following a bereavement.
Don't you think?
That's as may be.
But I want to be quite sure
that you are clear that
that diary belongs to me.
Hello.
Andrew, this is Tony.
My ex-husband.
Ah. How are you
doing, Tony? All right?
Hi.
We work together.
Can we talk?
It's important.
Well, I'll leave you
to it, then.
Good to meet you, Tony.
I'll see you Monday.
This is not on, Tony,
coming around
without being asked. Sorry.
You told me to call
when I was ready to tell you
what was going on.
Are you gonna let me in?
Headmaster:
From summer to Autumn.
So, too, do we think ahead...
Rather him than us.
To what we may achieve together.
Good morning, gentlemen.
I trust that
you had good holidays,
but time and tide
tarry for no man. So...
Henry viii.
Which of you bright young
things can give me
a characterization
of the age, hmm?
Hmm?
Simpson.
Any thoughts?
There was unrest, sir.
No, no. Insightful, as always.
But might you perhaps
care to elaborate?
There was great unrest, sir.
Oh, dear.
Anyone?
Finn?
Now I'm conscious it's your
first day with us, but, uh,
any thoughts?
I don't know.
What don't you know?
Well, I cannot know
what I don't know, sir,
that's philosophically
self-evident.
What we do know is that
something happened, sir.
Mr. hunt: Come again?
Well, something happened.
All one can ever truly say
of any particular
period of history, sir,
is that something happened.
Young Tony:
A great line to hunt, earlier.
About something happened?
Adrian: Oh, yes.
I was disappointed
you didn't take that up.
Well, I thought you made
an extremely valid point.
I'm, uh, Tony Webster.
I'm Adrian Finn.
That's cheery.
Are you familiar
with Dylan Thomas?
Hmm, yes.
I find him to be one of
the most humane poets
of the 20th century.
Young Colin: But then he did
say it, it was ridiculous.
Parents. What a load
of effing bastards.
Adrian Finn, Colin Simpson.
Colin Simpson, Adrian Finn.
Hello, Adrian Finn.
And this is Alex Stuart.
Really great line
to hunt. Really great.
Is there an issue
with your parents?
Ugh! Issue is
putting it mildly.
Just when you think
you can trust them...
Effing bastards.
Just when you think
you can trust them, they go
and behave like...
Henry viii?
Like Henry the
fucking viii, exactly.
Why are all your
watches turned inside?
Ah, because...
Young Colin:
That is a very good question.
We're taking a stand against...
hierarchically imposed...
Intrinsically flawed...
notions of time.
It also looks quite cool.
Young Colin:
So Dylan Thomas, interesting.
Yes.
Any good?
Do you know him?
Not really.
Young Alex: Not personally.
I'm really sick
of staring at wood paneling.
I'm sorry to report
that I have some rather sad news
which I wish to share with you
all this morning.
Joseph Dobson,
of the science sixth,
has been found dead.
He was a gifted pupil
with a natural aptitude
for both science
and modern languages.
He was sadly cut down
in the flower of his youth.
"Flower"? Dobson is
more vegetable material.
Young Alex: Was.
Must have killed himself.
Headmaster:
His brother, sister...
What?
Young Colin: Shit.
Mr. hunt: Finn.
You're unusually quiet
this afternoon.
I'm not sure I can add
anything to the debate, sir.
Will wonders never cease.
I don't find
the historian's need
to ascribe responsibility
a particularly
fruitful arena, sir.
Care to elaborate?
Historians yearn for an answer
to the question
of who's to blame for this event
or for that atrocity, but...
I don't know, sir.
Sometimes it seems to me
it is impossible to know.
Go on.
Well, Patrick Lagrange,
sir, said that,
"history is the certainty
produced at the point
"when the imperfections
of memory
"meet the inadequacies
of documentation."
It's the lies of Victors, sir.
As long as you understand
that it is also
the delusions of the defeated.
Adrian:
Take Dobson's suicide, sir.
Mr. hunt: Okay.
We are told Dobson
came to take his own life,
perhaps when he understood
his girlfriend was pregnant.
Finn. Dobson's death
is a private matter.
No. It's also
a historical matter.
The point
I'm trying to make, sir,
is that nothing can now be known
in the absence
of Dobson's own testimony.
We...
We may never know the truth,
and no amount of intellectual
posturing can alter that.
Do you see the problem, sir?
Finn, I see the
problem, thank you.
Camus says that suicide
is the only true
philosophical question.
Apart from ethics,
politics, aesthetics,
and all that other stuff.
All that other stuff we're
learning about in school.
The only true one.
The essential one on which
all the others depend.
When we left school
and went our separate ways,
out of everyone,
Adrian was the only one I desperately
wanted to stay in touch with.
Lovely. Thank you.
Cheers.
Cheers.
Both: Mmm!
That is good. I dare say
it's almost as good as sex.
Couldn't possibly comment.
Maybe I need to improve
my taste in wine.
Or your taste in sex.
Speaking of which, are we going
to address the fact that
almost everything you've told
me in the last few days,
you've told me
for the very first time?
I've never told you
about all this stuff
because it wasn't important.
In all the years that we
were together, Mr. Webster,
it has never occurred to you
that it might be
important to tell me
about your former love?
Your first love, no doubt.
I'm not talking
about Adrian Finn.
I see. Well, Mrs. Webster,
I think you're very much
barking up the wrong tree.
Indeed, on the wrong
patch of land altogether.
Veronica and I were never
in love, I can assure you.
She gave you your
first camera, didn't she?
Tony, it doesn't feel right.
Do you ever think about where
our relationship is heading?
Is this a thinly veiled attempt
to bring up our sex life?
No.
I'm positively laidback
about the fact that
we haven't had sex yet.
Does it have to?
Does it have to what?
Head somewhere?
Our relationship.
At the time I thought,
at least nobody died.
Nobody got pregnant.
You sound
positively crestfallen.
Mmm.
Oh, please, no.
I'll be all over the place.
Stop.
But how did your friend's diary
end up with fruitcake's mother?
I think Adrian's stuff
ended up with Veronica.
And that's how the diary
found its way to Sarah Ford.
Yeah, but how did Adrian's
stuff end up with fruitcake?
Veronica.
I was just coming to that.
Adrian: Dear Tony,
I wanted to write to you
as in recent months,
Veronica and I have
grown very close.
Indeed, we have now embarked
upon a relationship together.
This would no doubt
come to your attention,
and we thought it best
you heard it from us.
Your friendship is deeply
important to us, Tony.
When did you last see him, then?
About three months ago.
Right where you're sitting.
That's why I suggested it.
He was going down
to Chislehurst.
How did he seem?
Cheerful.
Happy. Like himself.
Only more so.
As we said goodbye,
he told me he was in love.
How did he do it?
Wrists in the bath.
Jesus Christ.
Young Alex:
He knew how to do it.
Diagonally.
If you, uh, cut straight across,
you lose consciousness
and the wound heals up.
You botched it.
Well, perhaps
you drown yourself.
No, still second place.
Adrian would have wanted first.
That's sort of Greek, isn't it?
Both: No, it's, um, hemlock.
More the exemplary
Roman, I'd say.
Opening the vein.
It's effing impressive.
Yeah.
Or a miserable waste.
Margaret: So what do you think
you'll find in the diary?
I've no idea.
It's just mine.
I think it's quite touching
that you're so stubborn.
Probably a way of not losing
the plot at your age.
I don't think I'd have reacted
any differently
when we were younger.
Do you remember
that au pair we had?
The Swedish one?
Mmm.
I found her diary once.
And I...
I was tidying up, and I read it.
And do you know what I found?
She'd written, "I'm working
for a real cow."
"Husband's all right,
"just keeps
looking at my arse."
You should have said.
We'd have got rid of her.
That's not the point
of my story.
It's getting late.
Is it?
Surely you're not insisting
your inebriated ex
risks his life on the open road?
Collateral damage.
Think about
my fellow drivers, then.
You're not staying.
Good night, then. Wait, wait, wait.
I've got a question.
Got a question.
Why did you leave me?
Be honest.
Tony...
No, be honest. No, tell me.
Did you leave because of me?
Are you angry about Veronica?
I'm not anything about Veronica.
Wasn't that bad, was it?
Good night, Tony.
Good night.
Tony Webster.
How the devil are you?
Colin Simpson.
Wonderful to see you.
Alex...
Good to see you.
Great to see you.
You go and sit in there.
You sit there.
Are you sure?
Yeah, yeah. Go on, go on.
Colin: Do you want a tea?
You haven't changed.
I will have a tea.
Colin: Excuse me, love,
could we have another tea?
Blimey.
What a nut job. Whatever
did you see in her?
You and Adrian both.
Well, you know,
she was very mysterious.
You know, the great irony,
of course,
was that it was you
that introduced them.
Introduced who?
Adrian and Veronica.
No, Adrian met Veronica
through her brother Jack.
Oh, wishful thinking,
my old friend.
No. Yeah.
Adrian and Jack
were at Cambridge together.
But that's not how they met.
No, it was your fault
they got together.
Hole-in-one.
No, no, no.
You came up to town from Bristol
with your ladylove
and met all of us.
Yeah, chomping at the bit
to introduce
the love of your life.
Oh, I could have sworn
they met through Jack.
Afraid not.
I'm surprised you haven't had a good
rummage through the Webster albums.
If memory serves, you were
always snapping away.
Hmm.
Well, they must have been
deemed surplus to requirements.
Colin: Mmm, well,
that's a pity, old bean.
Alex: So have you...
Have you tried
contacting her directly?
How?
She's not there. Try Jack.
Okay.
Mmm-hmm.
Oh...
Oh, right.
Loads of them.
What about...
What was that...
This one?
Oh, it's him.
Yeah.
Yeah?
Yeah, yeah.
Wow.
God, where on earth is he?
Cricket.
Tennis, no?
Tennis.
Oh, look.
All: Mmm.
Who's that?
I don't know.
He looks as self-satisfied
as he ever did.
All: Oh...
Oh!
Do you want to
send him a message?
Isn't that a bit much?
No, it'd be rude not to.
Do people really
communicate this way?
Yours truly
communicates this way.
Really?
Yeah.
I got in touch with a woman
I'd been at university with.
Hadn't seen her for the
best part of 40 years.
We met up, got on
like a house on fire.
You see, it's a boon
for us widowers.
Mmm.
Hmm.
There you go. Sent.
Oh, done.
What?
You're in now.
Welcome to the
21st century, Mr. Webster.
Oh, blimey.
Ta-ra!
Tell us how it all turns out.
Certainly will.
Don't let it get to you,
old bean.
Insightful as always.
Alex: Henry viii.
Now which one of you
young bright things can offer
characterization of the age?
Simpson?
Colin: I'd say
there was unrest, sir.
I'd even say
there was great unrest, sir.
Not enjoying the party?
Oh, shit.
Tony:
Hello, you have reached the
telephone of Anthony Webster.
Bollocks!
I'm unable
to take your call now.
Please leave me a message
after the beep,
and I will return your call
at my earliest convenience.
Thank you.
Veronica: Hello.
This is Veronica Ford.
I am in receipt
of all your correspondence,
and I also understand
from my brother
that you wish to meet
to discuss my mother's estate.
I will be in town this morning.
I will see you at the
wobbly bridge at 9:00 A.M.
Shit.
Could I get a glass
of red wine, please?
Are you...
Are you sure?
Really, Anthony.
You said it didn't feel right
when we were going out.
Well, it didn't. Then.
But it does now?
I don't know.
You're quite cowardly,
aren't you?
Veronica?
Hello, Anthony.
You look well.
You're bald.
Well, at least it proves
I'm not an alcoholic.
Do people think
you're an alcoholic?
No. No, they don't.
I read somewhere that if
you're a very heavy drinker,
there's something in the booze
that stops your hair
from falling out.
Shall we find
somewhere to sit down?
Where?
Anywhere? I'm easy,
as you may recall.
Ready to order?
Um...
I'll have a fresh
mint tea, please.
Um, what sort of coffee
do you serve?
We serve our own blend.
Roasted in our roastery
in Herne hill.
Oh, blimey.
We don't mess around.
In that case, I'll have
a macchiato, please.
Single or double?
Single, thank you.
Thank you.
Their own blend.
Impressive stuff.
Woman: Oh!
I was sorry to hear about
your mother, Veronica.
Yes.
As, uh...
As you're no doubt aware,
it appears that your mother
left something to me
in her will.
And when I spoke
with your mother's solicitor...
I was told that the item
that has been left to me
was a diary written by Adrian.
I don't have the diary.
Excuse me?
I burnt it.
But it belongs to me.
It doesn't belong to anyone.
Boy: Vroom, vroom, vroom!
Look!
I think you'll find that
the zoo is north of the river.
Unbelievable.
Uh...
I at least have,
uh, the right
to know what is in it.
Legally, yes.
Morally, no.
Have you any idea how
unsettling it was for me after
however many years it's been
to receive a letter
from your mother?
I can't be held accountable
for my mother's actions.
Actually,
as executor of her will,
I rather suggest that you can.
What's this?
Because you seem to need
something to read.
Bye, Anthony.
I'm sorry I raised my voice.
Hi.
Sorry.
That wasn't five minutes.
No, I know. It's...
Oh, quick. Right.
Traffic was dreadful.
I'm really sorry.
So this is it, is it?
No, it's a spectacularly
elaborate wind-up, dad.
Yeah, sorry, sorry, point taken.
Have you heard from mum?
Uh, no, no, but I phoned her
and she's in a meeting,
but I left a message.
Oh.
Oh!
Right. Okay.
Off we go.
Susie: Dad,
I think I'm gonna be sick.
Tony: You're gonna be sick?
Oh, this whole thing's
such a load of shit.
I mean, our gene pool
alone is bad enough.
Workaholic meets curmudgeon
meets deranged 30-something.
You're not a curmudgeon.
I was talking about you.
I know, darling.
The best thing you can do
is just relax, calm down.
Look, don't tell me to relax.
Jesus. Just call mum.
Afternoon, I'm Emma.
Hi, Emma. I'm Tony.
This is Susie.
How we doing?
We're having a bit of a wobble.
Oh, for Christ's sake, dad.
All right, I'll leave
you two to it. Okay?
Where are you going?
Isn't that what you want?
Do you want me to stay?
Do you want me to go?
Call mum?
Yes.
Right, right.
Hancock:
Good night, Harry.
Flying doctor calling
Wollumboola base.
Young Tony:
Dear Adrian and Veronica.
Hello, bitch,
and welcome to this letter.
A letter to you both
to wish you much joy.
You certainly
deserve one another.
Indeed, I hope
you get so involved
that the mutual damage
will be permanent.
Part of me hopes
you'll have a child
because I'm a great believer
in time's revenge.
Yay unto the next generation,
and all that.
But in fairness,
it would perhaps be
somewhat unjust
to inflict such ill will
on the fruit
of your poisonous loins.
Adrian, if she hasn't
let you go all the way yet,
I suggest you break up with her.
And no doubt she'll be round
your place as quick as a flash
with sodden knickers
and a three-pack,
eager to give it away.
Certainly, it worked
for yours truly.
Veronica is undoubtedly
someone who will manipulate you.
Even her own mother
warned me against her.
In fact, if I were you,
I'd check things out with mum.
Margaret: Tony?
Where is she?
It's all right.
She's all right. She's fine.
She's through here.
So what was the problem?
It's fine.
It's a false alarm.
I don't understand.
No one's expecting you to.
Give me some credit.
Susie: Stop the car.
Stop the car.
All right.
She's feeling sick.
Okay.
Stop the car.
Margaret:
Good girl. Good girl.
Get it all out.
How is she?
She's fine.
Do you need a lift home?
I think I'm gonna stay.
So do you think
I should stay too?
That's completely up to you.
I met Veronica.
Well, congratulations.
Would you believe it,
she's hardly changed.
Still has the same
extraordinary coolness.
Here.
What?
To mop up the drool.
Ah.
I want to show you something.
What?
What's that?
Open it.
This is horrible.
Did you write this?
She gave it to me,
and then she left.
But I followed her.
You did what?
I don't mean followed followed,
but she set off before...
Is this her car license number?
Yes, but, wait, listen. All I
wanted to do was establish...
Following someone home
and casually jotting down their car
license number is tantamount to stalking.
Oh, Margaret, come on.
No, I'm perfectly serious.
Seems to me you're a hairsbreadth
away from a restraining order.
I wanted to apologize.
No, you didn't.
You wanted to hear her say
how wonderful you are
and how you haven't changed.
And how she's thought
of you all these years,
and looked up at
the stars and wondered...
I'm sorry,
it's all a bit pathetic.
Well, don't hold back, will you?
Do you know what
really strikes me?
Is your total inability to see
what's right under your nose.
Such as?
Such as your daughter, who
happens to be lying next door
going out of her mind.
You said she was fine.
You're on your own now.
Oh, my god, no.
Come on.
No.
Come on.
Tony, I don't dance.
It's good for the soul.
Might rain later.
Mmm, there's always a later.
Man 1: Sure.
Man 2: Pub.
Man 1: Sure.
Man 2: Pub.
Man 1: Sure.
Man 2: Pub, pub!
Man 1: Sure.
Hey, hey, that's enough.
That's enough.
Friday is pub night.
Graham: Take me to the pub!
Ben: Hey, Graham,
I'm watching you. All right.
Come on,
let's all make it across.
We'll make the pub in one piece.
Here we are, guys.
Will do a little headcount.
Veronica: Are you all looking
forward to your beers?
Okay.
Well, I'm gonna be leaving you.
Man: Are you going?
Veronica: And I'll see you
next week. All right?
Man: Bye-bye.
See you next week.
See ya. Bye-bye, Veronica.
Lovely to see you.
All: Bye-bye.
What are you doing?
Oh, hi.
I saw you and...
Saw me and what?
I was...
I was passing through,
and I saw you,
and I thought, well,
now's the chance to...
I don't want you following me.
I wasn't following you.
You were running after me.
Jogging, maybe.
What do you want?
When I read that letter...
It wasn't intended as a
start to a conversation.
Nonetheless, let me
at least buy you a drink.
Let me buy you a drink, and you'll
never have to see me again, ever.
What is this?
Those are my details.
No, I have your details.
What is it that you do?
I have a shop,
albeit a very, very,
very small shop,
selling cameras.
Rare, second-hand
cameras. Leicas.
Make a living?
Yes. Well, depends
what you call a living.
I'm retired, so...
So, coffee or drink?
Is this about
"closing the circle"?
I don't know about that.
But it can't hurt, can it?
I'm not available
at the moment to go
and have a drink with you.
Okay.
But perhaps at some point.
Great. Fantastic.
Er, whenever suits.
Woman: Okay,
who loves the Simpsons?
Me, me.
Downton's Abbey?
I've never,
I don't watch downton's Abbey.
I'm going to go to the toilet.
Okay.
No, she's not.
What was her name again?
I don't know.
Yes, you do.
No, I don't.
You do know her name.
Like your badges.
Yeah.
Amazing array.
Can I have a look?
Ah, they're brilliant.
I'm a stones fan myself.
Do you wanna tell him
where you get them from?
Yeah, where do you get them?
Do you have a favorite
in particular?
This one?
Yeah? It is...
I think.
I think that was
very expensive, wasn't it?
You bought that one
the other day, didn't you,
Adrian?
Nice meeting you, Adrian.
They're brilliant.
Really brilliant.
Have a good day.
And you.
Come on.
Take Dobson's suicide, sir.
We are told Dobson
came to take his own life,
perhaps when he understood
his girlfriend was pregnant.
Young Tony: Indeed,
I hope you get so involved
that the mutual damage
will be permanent.
Part of me hopes
you'll have a child
because I'm a great believer
in time's revenge.
What are you reading?
Zweig.
So you've worked your way
right through the alphabet,
have you?
Can't be anyone left after him.
Are you, uh, married, I take it?
Not married.
Never?
Mysterious to a fault.
I'm divorced, by the way.
In case you were wondering.
I wasn't,
but I'm sorry to hear that.
On the contrary.
Very happily so.
Best decision we ever undertook.
In fact, she... Margaret
recently accused me of having
built a shrine to you no less.
The shop.
When I told her that it was you
who gave me my first Leica.
And what did you say?
Tony: Ah!
Girl: Hi, Tony.
Those two are
in my daughter's NCT group.
Lesbians, pregnant lesbians.
Good god.
Whatever will they all
think of next?
My daughter's 36, by the way.
Apart from coming off
the rails somewhat
and deciding to have a child
all on her very own,
she works in PR.
Whatever that may mean.
Thanks for the tea, Tony.
I have to leave,
I have an appointment.
Are you... did I say...
No, finish your cake.
Is this because I've been
banging on about myself?
'Cause I don't mean to.
No.
The other day, after we'd
met, I went to the pub.
I met Adrian.
Both Adrian and you
are very important to me.
And all I can say is that
abhorrent letter of mine
was the expression of a moment.
And it was deeply shocking
for me to read
after all these years.
Do we really need to do this?
If I may, though.
I'm not expecting you to hand
over Adrian's diary anymore.
If you've burnt it,
that's the end of it.
And if not,
as it was written
by the father of your son,
it belongs to you.
Enough.
I... I can only imagine how
difficult it's been for you.
No, you cannot imagine.
No. Right. Yes.
Whoops.
Ben: Is that everyone?
Adrian, are you okay?
Adrian Jr.: It's that man.
Yeah, that one I saw, yeah.
Over there?
Yes.
The one with the bad beard?
Ben: I'll be right back.
Hello.
Is there something
I can help you with?
Do you want a chip?
No, I'm fine.
On the menu it says
they're fat cut, hand cut.
But what it really means
is they're fat cut.
They've not actually
been cut by hand at all.
Uh, look, don't take this
the wrong way, but...
I'll do my best.
I think, for whatever reason,
one of the people I look after
is a little uncomfortable
with you being here. Again.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to
upset anyone. I'll leave.
If you don't mind,
can I ask who you are?
Tony Webster.
Uh, Ben.
Do you mind if I sit down, Tony?
Of course.
Cheers.
I was an old friend
of Adrian's father,
and I've recently become
reacquainted with his mother.
Oh, you'll understand then.
She and I were
at university together.
Really? You don't look old
enough to have been at uni
with Adrian's mum.
You're too kind.
I was rather hoping to
bump into her here. But...
Wait, wait, sorry.
Bump into who?
Veronica. Adrian's mother.
Um...
You understand I can't discuss
our clients' histories,
it's a matter
of confidentiality.
Yeah, of course.
Now if you are
a friend of the family,
what you're saying, Tony,
doesn't make any sense.
Veronica is Adrian's sister.
Um, their mother, Sarah,
passed away six months ago.
How did he seem?
Cheerful.
Happy. Like himself.
Only more so.
As we said goodbye,
he told me he was in love.
You won't let Veronica
get away with too much,
will you?
Sorry?
Don't let her get away
with too much.
Are we okay?
They seem very happy,
the five of them.
You obviously do a good job.
We try our best.
Good luck to you all.
I'm gonna head back
to the group.
Margaret: Please leave me
a message after the beep.
Hi, Margaret, it's me again.
Yeah, uh, this is it.
I think this is definitely it.
Where are you?
Tell me about your day.
My day?
Yeah. What you did.
Oh. Okay. I went to Highgate.
To see a woman who I'd had
a relationship with
when I was an undergraduate.
We've recently
become reacquainted.
But she wasn't there.
Wasn't where?
At home.
So what were you doing there?
I went to see her.
But she wasn't there.
No.
I waited around a bit,
outside and at the station.
So you're stalking her?
You're her stalker.
No.
Yes, you are.
No. Not at all, no.
No, moving on,
we broke up is the point.
While we were
still at university.
And not long after
she formed a relationship
with my best friend.
And I wrote them both
a very nasty letter.
And recently I've been working
under the assumption that
they'd had a child together
shortly before my best friend
committed suicide.
But now it appears
that the mother of that child
wasn't my ex-girlfriend,
but it was her mother.
And I can only assume
that it was
my horrible letter that in
some way pushed the friend...
Emma: Hello again, Tony. Emma.
Oh, hi, Emma.
How we doing?
Oh,
I'd say holding up, just about.
Emma: I'll just
check baby's head.
No, no, no. Dad, stay.
Just for a bit.
You can hold my hand.
What's going on?
I don't know what's going on.
Tony: Everything's fine.
Dad, why isn't
anyone saying anything?
Everything's absolutely fine.
We're nearly there,
I promise you.
Emma: Susie, you have a baby.
Congratulations.
Why isn't he crying?
He's not crying.
Can you see anything?
He's fine. He's fine.
Why isn't he crying?
Excuse me, my daughter's asking,
why isn't her son crying?
So proud of you.
I wanna see him.
Tony: Yeah.
Baby.
Ah, look.
Say hello to your mummy.
There he is.
It's very hot.
Margaret: Thank you.
You don't have to stay here,
you know.
I want to.
Susie said you dealt with
everything very impressively.
I'm not an entirely redundant
member of this family, yet.
I've never said you were.
Haven't you?
Where are you going?
I'm gonna give you some space.
Fine. But, uh,
you may be interested to know,
you probably won't,
but I was planning on
making an apology to you.
For being insensitive.
For being a bore.
For being a monumental pain
in the arse.
Maybe it's too little too late,
but I hope not.
I know, technically,
we're not supposed to make
pronouncements
of this nature anymore,
but you and Susie
are the two most important
people in my life.
Divorced. Married.
Makes no difference.
Well, there you are.
Despite what you might think,
I assure you, I'm trying.
What's wrong with your watch?
It's stopped.
Come on, baby.
Get you home.
Leaving. Leaving hospital.
Tony: How often do we
tell our own life story?
How often do we adjust,
embellish, make sly cuts?
And the longer life goes on,
the fewer are
those around to tell us
our life is not our life.
It is just a story
we've told about our lives.
A story about our lives
told to others,
but mainly to ourselves.
Oh, hello. How are you?
What?
Are you well?
Uh, fine.
Want a coffee?
Yeah.
Mmm.
Thank you.
Could you, um...
Could you sign here,
please? I just got...
Thank you.
Great, thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Tony: I've been turning over
in my mind
the question of nostalgia,
and whether I suffer from it.
I suppose I am nostalgic.
I think of my time with Margaret
and Susie's birth
and her first years.
A bunch of kids in school.
A girl dancing
for once in her life.
A secret horizontal gesture
beneath a sunlit Wisteria.
I think of Adrian's
definition of history.
I think of everything
that has happened in my life,
and how little
I have allowed to happen.
I, who neither won nor lost.
Who avoided being hurt
and called it
a capacity for survival.
I think of how our lives
got entwined
and went along together
for a time.
And when I look back,
now, on that time,
however brief,
I am moved
more than I thought possible.
Indeed, I'm sorry
that I have known nothing
of your life in the years since.
No doubt you could have taught
this old fool a thing or two.
Perhaps, in a way, you have.
Hello.
Surprise.
Lovely surprise.
Hello, Joshua.
Say hello to "the Mudge."
Hello, Mudge.
No, you're the Mudge.
Mum and I decided
on account of your
being a curmudgeon.
How are you?
Good.
The NCT group
send their love to you.
Oh, that's nice.
We had a lovely lunch
comparing the damage
done to our bodies.
Vaginas and all.
Oh, Joshua, cover your ears.
Susie: Very good.
Tony: You're a special
young man.