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- I'm off now, Mr Houseman. - OK, Dorothy.
Mrs Houseman rang to say she won the award.
- That's everything. - OK, Dorothy.
I've left your itinerary for tomorrow on your pillow.
OK, Dorothy.
# Sitting here eating my heart out, baby
# Waiting for some lover to come
# Tried about a thousand numbers, baby
# Almost rang the phone off the wall
# Looking for some hot stuff, baby, this evening
# I need some hot stuff, baby, tonight... #
Back again. Sorry.
It's starting to spit. I should have taken my umbrella.
# H-h-hot stuff
# H-h-hot
# H-h-hot stuff
# H-h-hot... #
Sorry I'm late.
What a load of old toss! I won't be going to one of those again in a hurry.
Congratulations are in order.
Like being voted "Britain's Tastiest Bottom" is the high point of my career!
Don't you start.
Just let me get all this crap off and I can relax.
You can make me a big cup of cocoa.
How's this new musical that you're writing for me?
When am I going to hear it?
Maybe when I get back if the pitch goes all right.
Three days away. I'm going to miss you.
I'm pretty zonked actually.
Yeah. You get some sleep. You don't mind if I read, do you?
Sorry. I've got to be in Soho at ten for this press launch. I just wanted to say...
Fingernails!
I won't kiss you in case I smudge.
That'll be Angus. Have a great time in LA. I love you.
- Hi, Angus. - Hey.
- You all right? - How are you?
- Nice to see you. - You look amazing. Come on.
Here's your revised timetable.
I couldn't get you Whoopi Goldberg's people, but I got her people's people.
His name's Skip. He sounds about 12.
And don't forget to drop in on your father to wish him happy birthday.
So anyway... still hard at it?
- What? - Getting plenty of work?
It's a dying craft, Dudley, if you want the truth.
These days it's all mass production.
- Thank God for people like Adam Creek. - Adam who?
What is his name? Adam Klaus. Magician.
Creek's the chap who designs it all. Nice little job come in there.
Keeps me busy for a few weeks.
Right. Check-in's at two, so I'd better...
How's Sally? There was a time when you couldn't stop talking about her.
Sally? She's fine.
We're both very busy these days with one thing and another.
Careful with that one. George WB. It's on order for Miramax.
- How come his mouth doesn't move? - He doesn't talk through his mouth.
Sophomoric humour, I believe it's called.
Mr Houseman?
My name's Maria. I'll be your in-flight therapist and masseuse
to make your journey comfortable.
Are you familiar with the range of treatments we offer?
We have some fabulous...
OK. Open your eyes now. What do you think?
This is where we want the audience to squeal with horror - the flinch factor.
This colour scheme has got a flinch factor of 3.5.
So give me... Let's see.
A more hideous pattern in the carpet, get rid of the red and key in a sickly green.
Let's push the envelope.
- Post, Mr Baxter. - Thanks, my lovely.
Morning. How's the makeover on the makeover? Still at it?
You're early.
Carol was off sick, so I didn't get my pedicure,
so I had to cancel the gynaecologist - toenail confidence very important there.
Can't have him refusing at the first fence. I've rescheduled them both for tomorrow...
What is it? Is that...?
The results of the tests.
My God. Brendan. What does it say?
It says...
61% of viewers in the 16-39 age bracket found the show sustained their interest,
but the numbers for Jonathan were low among ABs, C1-C2s.
I thought we were talking about your prostate.
Is this for the gymnasium episode?
A clear majority felt he had insufficient authority on screen.
32% didn't like his hair. 12% had a problem with his posture.
11% thought your face was a funny shape. 18% were offended by your shirt.
40% disapproved of your voice -
described by a C2 male as "an irritating nasal whine. "
Give him a message for me. Ask him to ring Jonathan Creek ASAP.
I'd appreciate it. Thanks.
If that's all, I've got more important things I could be...
Nearly a third said they felt more comfortable with the murderer.
On the plus side,
the network loved the idea of impossible crimes and they've ordered 26 more.
- Plenty of time to lick you into shape. - 26? Are they insane?
If you think I'm going back to be ritually humiliated...
I suppose his face is an odd shape.
Maybe if we tried scooping his hair up, it'd take the curse off it.
What always hooks an audience is if they think the presenters are sleeping together.
Like Derek Fowlds and Basil Brush.
So let's bump up that sexual chemistry. OK.
Lunch with Michael Grade awaits. We'll leave you with Pam.
- Ah, Michael. - How are you doing?
Oh, Pam. I heard about your dog. I am so sorry.
I look like Jack Nance in "Eraserhead".
What do they know, focus groups?
Reducing us all to intellectual cripples.
- So your dog died? - Two months ago now.
Great big springer spaniel. Had him since he was a puppy.
- That's rough. - Yeah.
What's that? A new trick?
A bit of nonsense we're doing next week.
Sawing a ventriloquist's dummy in half.
The guy I've got building it's a bit dotty.
It involves a duplicate set of feet sticking out.
I've asked for a dozen extra, but he may have forgotten.
Mr Houseman.
Yeah. Thanks. Just wondered how soon we might be able to...?
Great, great. Just to confirm, we did say 12 feet.
That's what we said, Mr Creek. He's just due for his final varnish.
I can pop it round to your place about five, if that's any use?
Brilliant. If I'm not there, just leave it outside.
Relief.
Nice day outside. Do you want a sandwich?
"OLD BLUE" BY JJ CALE)
# I had an old dog and his name was Blue Bet your life he was a good dog too
# Blue chased a possum up a hollow limb
# Possum won, got the best of him
# Bye bye, Blue
# You good dog, you
# Bye bye, Blue
# You good dog, you
# Blue he died and died so hard Shook the ground in my back yard
# We lowered him down with a golden chain
# Every link, we'd call his name
# Bye bye, Blue
# You good dog, you
# Bye bye, Blue
# You good dog, you... #
Oh, Mr Creek.
I've done your office, bedroom and bathroom,
but the kitchen floor might be a bit wet.
- Mavis, what in the name of hell is that? - Sorry?
Oh, yes. There's a Mr Houseman waiting.
- He seemed quite keen to talk to you. - Did he?
Have you gone clinically insane?
That's like the bastard son of King Kong and Archie Andrews!
For God's sake, you must have realised...
Hi. You'll be Jonathan Creek.
I think it was in the "BMJ" this morning. I can bring it through. No, of course not.
Sorry, Mrs Baxter. Get comfortable. I'll be two seconds.
You keep your feet on the ground? No matter how things look?
No matter how macabre? No matter how impossible?
Go on.
Perhaps you can explain how a woman who's just had a full head of hair cut off
can grow it back again in less than 48 hours.
From the beginning?
A couple of years ago, according to the "Sun",
I became the luckiest bastard in Britain when I married Sally Ellen Oakley.
I know. How good is that?
Except that Sally Ellen Oakley doesn't exist in real life.
How could she? She's an invention.
A male fantasy created by beauticians and technicians.
In flesh and blood, there she was in my bed.
I just wanted to watch the videos.
So you could say my defences were down the day I met Maria.
Was she real?
Or the nearest thing to an angel this side of heaven.
21 days of terminal ecstasy. I'm afraid it was starting to get serious.
Of course, being a two-timing louse isn't easy,
but I did have expert assistance in the shape of my PA, Dorothy.
She can fix anything or say nothing.
All right. Thanks.
She did all the dirty work - keeping it all discreet, covering my arse,
though she thought I was on a suicide mission.
It's none of my business, but what do you know about this person?
You don't know that her motives aren't highly questionable,
that she's trying to copulate her way into your wallet.
Dorothy, you're right, as usual.
It is absolutely none of your business.
OK. So here's the thing.
11.30 this morning, Maria was due to set off on a ten-day tour of the Far East.
So yesterday, with Sally out till six, I said why not come over for lunch
and, after, she could get a cab to the airport hotel.
Which is all going fine until Dorothy, in her subtle way,
tries to attract my attention.
What now, for goodness' sake?
What do you make of that?
It's addressed to you, but in strange writing.
You've been going through her belongings?!
What do you think it is? She's up to some mischief or other.
- Maybe it's a present. I'll ask her. - Don't you do anything of the kind!
This could turn out to be some vital piece of evidence of some evil misdeed.
3.35, Sugar. What time's my cab coming?
Yeah. Any minute.
Granted. It did look kind of suspicious,
so I knuckle under and we decide to hang on to this... whatever it is.
Then, just as I'm seeing her off outside, disaster strikes.
Two hours early.
Was God being fair? I decide the best thing to do is to come clean
and tell her about me and Maria.
That way we can all talk it through like rational, mature, human beings.
I'll kill you! I'm going to kill you, you bitch!
- Get off me! - You rotten piece of...!
How dare you, you whore!
Screw you, you bitch!
Get out. Get out!
And stay out of our lives, you scummy little tart!
This is where it gets weird.
We go indoors. Sally's giving me hell.
Dorothy has spotted the package,
figures it's best kept between ourselves, but Sally's onto it like a shot.
What's this?
By now we're all pretty baffled.
We want to see what's on that tape.
I don't know what the hell I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that.
Please, what do you want with me?
Please tell me what you want. I just don't understand.
Please tell me who you are.
It says, "To Dudley Houseman...
"The people holding me prisoner are fully prepared...
"to kill me
"unless you give them what they want -
"£100,000 in used banknotes.
"You've two days to acquire it.
"Further instructions will follow later.
"In the meantime, this is to make sure you take the threat seriously. "
Oh, God.
No.
Something certainly stinks about all of this. Wouldn't you say?
That woman is so full of shit, Dudley, and, my God, has she taken you to the cleaners.
So, as usual, Dorothy had it all figured out.
What was her phrase? "Copulate her way into my wallet. "
Obviously, she got together with this guy and rigged the whole thing.
Short of hacking off her ear, they made it look real.
The tape would go in the post, I end up shafted for a hundred grand.
Literally.
OK. So that was a narrow escape.
Meanwhile, I've...
messed up my life, my marriage
and somehow I've got to pull it all back together again.
But the $64,000 question is, how did her hair grow back?
That "Radio Times", I've checked. It was printed two days before.
When Sally was dragging her down the drive, it was coming out at the roots.
It was like it was absolutely for real - both times.
Yet how could it have been?
I need some answers...
before I completely lose touch with reality.
There's some amazing bald caps. The problem's what goes underneath.
That much hair, you've got no chance.
And when the camera goes in really close, you won't get away with it.
Unless it's been got at technically.
You're not going to keep a wig on during all that other hullabaloo.
- Extensions? - What are you going to fix them to?
This is decidedly odd, though, wouldn't you say?
It's real enough, and certainly looks like her hair.
But the amount... Of what was cut off,
there's only about a quarter of it here.
If you're going to make a point, you'd send the whole lot to him.
Perhaps he wanted a stuffed cushion.
OK, I'll get CGI to check the pixellation on this.
If someone's doctored it, we'll know.
In the meantime, background colour and lateral thinking.
I'm salivating already.
Here we go again, then.
Let me know when you want to bump up the sexual chemistry.
Yes. Just don't get friendly with any table legs.
You might end up with a splinter in it.
Friendly with table legs?
Is this to do with Pam and I going out together?
Have you? I noticed her taking you for a walk, but...
What's that supposed to mean?
You haven't twigged it? Even with your amazing powers?
- She's gone for you on the rebound. - Rebound?
She's not had a close relationship for nearly two years.
Unless you count her dog, so I fail to see the logic of that theory...
Oh, get real! I'm not even going to dignify that with an argument.
- I can have a drink with someone. - As long as it's not out of her toilet.
- Can we change the subject? - Fine.
What are we looking at here?
Fastest transplant in history or a miracle growth hormone?
Or a deception so elementary, it's almost laughable.
- What? - Don't tell me you haven't sussed it.
Whereas you have, of course.
Some things drive you batty for days, others click in the twinkling of an eye.
Who and why will take a bit of figuring, of course, but...
If you want a pointer, think about that sheet or cover they wrapped around her.
Like in a barber's? To catch all the hair?
They'd really worry about her clothes!
It might have had an entirely different function.
What...?
This glee you derive from treating me like a five-year-old does pall after a while!
Like I'm incapable of reaching a conclusion!
- Only trying to help. - Well, don't.
I'll work it out for myself with no assistance from you!
# Give it to her more on the floor
# Got a bitch on heat... #
"Hoes in da hood"? Booty Posse?
For research purposes.
Just pull up here for a minute.
Oh.
This isn't good.
Ah.
Of course.
Yup.
In your own time.
The place is all yours. Any questions, there's Dorothy here or... Sally...
My wife. This is Jonathan and his friend Carla,
who've offered to try and work out that strange thing... with Maria's hair.
Yes.
If you could give my husband a message?
Tell him I don't give a tinker's toss about her hair. She can shove it up her arse.
It doesn't interest me.
- She doesn't give a tinker's toss... - Sally, please! Don't do this to me.
If it makes you feel better, smack me in the face, but please... don't go.
Tell him I'm going away now
to be with someone who treats me like a human being.
Sally, wait.
- That's where they had the fight? - I know.
It doesn't make any sense, does it?
Some amazing lookalike is the only thing I can think of.
And it's got Mr Houseman wondering whether she was "not of this world. "
Mmm.
Although her angelic qualities were lost on me.
I tried to tell him what a... piece of work she was. What's that?
- Insulating tape? - With a tiny piece cut off the end.
I'm sure it's of absolutely no significance.
So now she's conveniently disappeared to the other side of the world?
Where she'll stay if she's got any sense. We could take that video to the police.
Mmm...
Have I seen your girlfriend before? Her face is familiar.
Possibly, on the telly, but she's not my girlfriend.
Oh, is she not? Right.
# Then you
# Showed me what I never saw
# The way was through a different door
# To find what I was looking for
# To be with you
# To be with you is to ride on rainbows
# And laugh like the morning dew
# The silence sings in the hall of kings
# Can teach me nothing new
# 'Cause all I ever knew was
# I had to be with you... #
That is so beautiful. And that's the main love theme?
It's got an echo of...
Bob Dylan? I don't know why you'd say that.
He's an influence, yeah, but for critics to just dismiss everything I do
as derivative sub-Dylan lite...
I find it very short-sighted.
No. I just thought... for you to have written that specially for your wife,
you must really love her a lot.
It obviously comes from the heart.
Yeah. Well...
I've been trying to get some interest in the States because...
Sally as Delilah would knock them dead over there.
With Michael Bolton playing Samson and Whoopi Goldberg as God to make it hip.
What a treat to hear some romantic lyrics.
- When you look at the stuff nowadays. - Really? Like what?
This may or may not interest you, but I was having a little play with it.
First, a picture of yours truly,
on which, with any standard photo-editing software,
you can carefully draw around the head...
and select.
I could use any picture, but I think this one makes the point.
Just shrink it down to fit,
and then drag it across.
This is just still photography, not video, but you see the possibilities.
- I do. - Of course you do.
You have an astute and very able mind, Mr Creek,
which, in a world of superficiality, I find most attractive.
Thank you.
- You might want to refer to this later. - Right.
Brendan, hi.
Oh, really?
"Don't got no skanking whore try dissing me no more.
"I'm a give it to her raw on the floor.
"Now da bitch on heat, gonna make her eat my meat.
"Suck her titty like a melon.
"Man, I ain't no felon selling skin to ma kin.
"I'm a stick it to 'em good pimping pussy in da hood. "
Chorus. Repeat three times.
"Yo, stick it to 'em good, pimping pussy in da... " Pass the mouthwash!
Can you imagine a gynaecologist listening to this on his way to work?
- I felt tainted in every respect! - OK.
Got everything I need. I don't know about you.
Take it away, I think, and have a ponder.
Ready?
Her point being what? That recording may not have been genuine?
I forgot to tell you. Brendan rang.
The video's been through computer graphics and it's not been tampered with.
You might want to give that some consideration. It was in the sitting room.
I draw your attention to the small piece cut off the end.
What am I looking at? Industrial-strength toupee tape?
Just say and I'll put you out of your misery.
I'm not throwing the towel in yet.
All right. So you won't be wanting this little clue.
It would appear not.
"How many seas must a white dove sail before it can sleep in the sand?"
Go on.
"How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?"
- "Blowin' In The Wind". - Yes! What's it telling me?
If I told you that, it wouldn't be a clue.
Anywhere here will be fine, thanks.
- So what's on the agenda tonight? - Tonight?
Yes. Tonight. Vis-à-vis everything.
Oh, right. I thought we might have an evening in at my place.
Cook a meal, a bottle of wine. Nothing earth-shattering.
Fine. I'll see you.
If it's any business of yours.
"How many seas must a white dove sail... "
Could that be the letter "C" to spell something out?
"Sleep in the sand. " Presumably means it's dead.
A dead bird.
Except she wasn't. She just had her hair cut off.
"How many roads must a man walk down... "
There was something in the road that caught his attention but...
- This is probably completely meaningless. - What's that, my love?
He said this was a clue. Does anything strike you?
- Apart from it being the wrong way round? - What?
The lyrics are the wrong way round.
"How many roads must a man walk down" is first,
then "how many seas must a white dove sail".
The wrong way round? Of course!
Because in "Samson and Delilah", she cut his hair off.
So...
Actually, he suggested I go over there tonight, to his place.
Kick it around a bit more, so...
No problem. This'll keep. You run along.
Come home.
Please.
This is killing me.
For God's sake, how can you bear to be there?
With him? Of all people, Angus.
- Yeah, well... - You can't be serious.
I don't know what makes you think I'd be with Angus,
especially as he happens to be in Chicago tonight.
I'm sorry, Dudley, but there's nothing left to talk about.
Would you get the car out, please, Dorothy?
You're taking me for a drive.
Mr Houseman, are you sure this is one of your brightest ideas?
- Dudley? - Ah, if it isn't the lovely Angus.
Who, curiously, my wife seemed to think was in Chicago at the moment.
Yes. In the musical "Chicago". I've just come offstage. Why?
I'll tell you why, Angus...
Just open this bloody door right now!
I've come to take her home.
I know all about the two of you and your mucky little goings on in there.
Quite frankly, I find it unseemly and disgusting!
Taking advantage of someone...
Git!
Jonathan?
Hello?
Anyone in?
It's chucking it down out there.
Sorry. Train was bit late.
- Were you looking for me? - No, I had to catch the first post.
I left the front door unlocked, just in case.
God, it's a miserable night. I can't wait to get inside.
- Why have we stopped here? - Hmm?
Oh... God knows. Come on.
We'll have to get you out of this lot. You're soaked through to the skin.
Yeah. The old coat's seen better days.
It's a lovely coat.
Where do you keep your towels? I'm going to give you a nice rub down.
Here we are.
You are a wet old thing, aren't you?
With a very cold nose.
You know, I think we may be the wrong way round.
- Sorry? - You and me. The wrong way round.
Oh, God!
- I'm sorry. It's very unnatural, suddenly. - Why? What's wrong?
- If not totally perverse. - What is it?
Is it something I've said or done or...?
For God's sake, are you blind? It's everything you've said and done!
If you go out with a guy, it's for who he is - as a guy.
For the way he thinks and feels and behaves.
Not just as a faithful companion you can feed biscuits to.
And, Pam, you're still not ready for that. It's too soon.
Jonathan's never going to win prizes at Crufts. You can see that.
Yes. I think I see now...
...that I seem to have wandered into an insane asylum.
- I can't bring myself to ask... - You'll thank me for it later.
More importantly, I think I did it.
Finally. The wrong way round.
When she said it, like you said, it clicks into place in the twinkling of an eye.
That's it. That's it.
Here, Mr Houseman.
- Sally, don't go. - Oh, no.
I've always said the human race is broadly divided into angels and trolls.
Believe me, the angels don't always get the best of it,
because when beautiful people fall in love with each other,
they'd better be sure it's not because they're beautiful people.
When the late Mrs Houseman and I fell in love in 1953...
we were both pretty ugly customers.
That's how we knew it was real
and probably why I've spent most of my time among them ever since.
Ugly customers.
They take me as I am, you see?
Dudley's not a bad sort...
but he does get very easily confused.
Mmm.
This one would probably do for Creek.
Yes. He said ideally he was after something a bit smaller.
- Hello? - You may not believe this -
there's no reason why you should - but it's you he needs here now.
He's not actually conscious at the moment, but when he wakes up
you're going to have to be around to sort him out because otherwise...
That's it. I'm sorry. I've done everything I can.
Yes, you've done that, and a lot more besides, haven't you?
To try and save this marriage.
Did I commit a crime? I suppose it wasn't a very nice thing to do to that young lady.
But she wasn't being very nice herself - wrecking someone's home, their marriage.
I know he was just as much to blame for it all, but...
He never could sort himself out. He wouldn't know where to start.
The fact that you run Dudley's life for him was the bedrock of the whole operation.
If he'd stopped fretting for a second,
he'd probably have realised there was only one person
with the access and the contacts and the sheer calculating guile
to carry a thing like this off.
You worked hard to play that down, going all girly on me.
Most men would have run a mile.
Desperately trying to palm me off with another solution, trick photography,
and hope that I'd never find the answer and pass it on.
Which, to give you credit, you haven't.
- Look, it was a bit radical... - Don't feel bad, Dorothy.
We all know where you were coming from.
- Desperation, basically. - They have so much going for them,
when you get down to what matters.
Mr Houseman doesn't know what he wants until he hasn't got it any more.
So taking your brief of "managing his affairs" literally,
you come up with a plan to make it look as if she's after his money.
The idea is she faked her own kidnap with the help of some confederate
and they both pocket the ransom.
Of course, you lined up the confederates to make it look convincing.
A couple of technical types and one performer was all it took.
People who owed me a favour - there's quite a few of them.
I made a few calls, we got together to talk about it.
It was all pretty straightforward actually.
How was it meant to go? You find a suspicious package in her case -
that she's planning to send him after she's left the country -
inside a recording, obviously all staged,
showing her at the mercy of a kidnapper demanding money. It's clearly a set-up.
Even Dudley's going to realise the girl who came round for lunch, wearing a wig,
has taken him for a sucker. Exit Maria.
Problem though. How the hell do you fake that video?
We've all seen it. We all agree it was her. We all agree it was real.
How do you tie a woman up, cut her hair off and film it without her knowing?
Clearly impossible.
But an illusion is to make people think they've seen something they haven't.
When I finally twigged, it was the simplest thing in the world.
The two events - a woman having her head shaved
and being dragged across the grass by her hair -
weren't impossible in themselves, we were just looking at them the wrong way round.
Thanks to a preconception we all have
that if you put a tape in a video and press Play,
what comes up on screen is the past tense.
But if you're not pressing Play, but Record,
and if the VCR's already been tuned to receive a live local signal,
suddenly everything we watched that day becomes possible.
The whole thing had to be staged close by,
which is why I had a wobble when I couldn't see another building.
But the fact that a large vehicle had recently parked there told its own story.
Don't ask me about the technology. That was Doug and Roger's department.
I know they had to set up some kind of transmitter on the roof.
The chap with the hood was a dodgy actor friend I thought would be good.
His brief was to lop off a chunk of hair.
I'm afraid on the day he did get a bit scissor happy.
Hence the disparity between the duplicate hair
and what we saw coming off on the screen.
I suppose I'd got Delilah on the brain.
What I planned as an extra little flourish suddenly became this major number.
Because when Sally came home early,
bang went any hope you had of keeping a lid on the affair.
The tussle on the lawn totally put paid to the scenario of a woman wearing a wig.
The simple truth was, at that point, Maria's hair hadn't been cut off.
Oddly enough, none of that was going through my mind at the time.
Besides, it was too late to call off the dogs.
Help me!
They had to cover up the clothes or the game would be up.
What's this?
It says... "To Dudley Houseman...
"£100,000 in used banknotes. "
Instant spoolback was a nice touch after it was over,
to fix the idea they'd been watching a recording.
The little red light would have been a give-away if you hadn't masked it off.
I had too much on my mind to be worrying about a roll of tape.
They dropped her home afterwards with the injunction,
stay away from Dudley, from the police and she'd live a long and healthy life.
That'll be the test, in the end, of the depth of her love and devotion.
Dorothy!
Yes! Coming, Mr Houseman!
Oh. Mrs Houseman.
I'm so sorry. He's just been sick all over the bathroom floor.
OK, Dorothy. If you want to get along now...
I'll kill him.
Bloody murder him. The batty old fool.
"Use this one. I made it three years ago for some satirical sketch show or other.
"It was used once - I can't remember why. " We know why now, don't we?
What are the chances of the Network Director of Programmes watching it here?
I can't imagine what Adam's going to say...
Live television? I've had a basinful of it.
It is a scream though.
Oh. Is this yours?
It might interest you. It's an interview with the lead singer of Booty Posse.
It's a caveat not to form hasty conclusions.
When do I ever do that?
"Indifferent to the cross-generational flak his priapic anthems always elicit,
"Doogie T just grins. 'I sent a copy of "Hoes In The Hood" to my stepfather
"'to keep him abreast of my progress. The guy rings up like plutonium man.
"'When did a Harley Street gynaecologist know shit from shit anyhow?"'
Harley Street?
Stepfather.
Oh, my God.
- What have I done? - I don't know. What have you done?
On the way here tonight...
Well, there was hardly anyone about...
Oh, my God.
There you are, you see. Pays to keep your hair on, I always say.
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