04x03 - Great Expectations

[bunniefuu]

[theme music]

What's the matter, Rigsby?

Rigsby, I'm busy. - Shh.

I'm trying to avoid someone.

I think he's from the council.

What makes you think that?

Oh, I know the type.

He's got those hunched shoulders from crouching over

figures all day and those long, bony fingers

you get from squeezing blood out of a stone, you know.

Why should that worry you, unless you're hiding something?

Of course I'm not hiding anything.

My conscience is clear.

Needn't worry about that.

God, he's coming up.

No, look, if he asks for me, I'm the window cleaner, all right?

I thought you had nothing to hide.

I haven't.

Haven't you paid your rates, Rigsby?

Who said I haven't paid my rates?

You watch your tongue.

I'm in dispute.

I'm overassessed.

I'm a poor man.

I'm the window cleaner.

Excuse me.

My name is Snell.

Well, we've all got problems.

Yes, I'm looking for Mr. Rigsby.

Oh, Mr. Rigsby? Ah, you've just missed him.

Leave your card.

We'll tell him you called.

Well, I haven't got a card.

Oh, no card.

He could be anyone.

Hey, Philip, keep your eye on the silver.

What do you want to see Mr. Rigsby for?

It's a personal matter.

You can tell us. We're his friends.

Oh, no, no, no.

I couldn't possibly tell his friends.

You see, it's strictly confidential.

It must be kept within a very small circle.

His friends are a very small circle.

I'm sorry.

It's of a financial nature.

Oh, yes, a finan--

I thought so.

Just dropped in for a little chat, have we?

What have you got in that bag, your thumbscrew?

I beg your pardon?

Why can't you leave him alone?

Persecuting an old man like this,

a man who's left his health and strength

on the beaches of Dunkirk.

I really don't think there's any--

And what are you doing about the rats?

You tell me that. - Rats?

The rats, yes, the rats, the rats.

They're getting bolder every day.

You ask him across the road, the fellow with the wooden leg,

sitting there reading his newspaper.

He hears this gnawing sound, stands up,

collapses in a pile of sawdust.

And what are the council doing about it?

Nothing.

I really think you must be mistaken.

I am not from the council.

RIGSBY: Oh, sorry.

I'm from Hargreaves, the solicitors.

I've come to see Mr. Rigsby regarding

the estate of his late uncle, George Rigsby.

You mean he's been left something?

Yes.

He gets the residue of the estate.

Is it much?

Oh, it's a considerable sum.

What would you call a considerable sum?

Well, a figure not unadjacent to 50,000 pounds.

Pardon?



That's a considerable sum.

Yes.

I do hope it won't be too much of a shock for Mr. Rigsby.

I have here some--

[shrieks] Rigsby's in the money!

He's got that residue!

Did you hear that?

Woo-hoo, hoo!

Oh, he's got the residue.

It's apparent, so he said on the weekly show. [SINGSONG]

He's got the residue.

Rigsby's got the residue.

Rigsby's got the residue.

Rigsby's got the residue.

Ha, ha, ha.

Mr. Rigsby, I presume?

Yes.

How'd you guess?

I think it was your natural display of grief

on hearing of your uncle's death.

Yes, yes. Oh, very sorry about that.

Yes, oh, oh, dear.

Yes, poor Uncle George.

Oh, very tragic end. Oh, dear.

I hope it was peaceful. Yes.

You know, I hadn't seen him in years.

Oh, wish I had.

Do you know what I'm going to do?

I'm going to throw myself on that man's grave

and beg his forgiveness.

Well, I wouldn't advise that, Mr. Rigsby.

We've just scattered his ashes on the Mersey.

I'll leave you with the necessary papers.

Oh, yes, yes, of course, yes.

And then perhaps when you've recovered from your grief--

Yes?

--you can call in at the office and advise us on how

we should deal with the money.

Oh, just bundle it into fivers.

I'll do the rest.

Oh, and here, since you called with the--

with the good news, there's something for your bus fare.

Oh, really.

Oi, Phil.

[laughs]

Congratulations, Rigsby.

It calls for a celebration.

Sit down.

Have a drink.



What about that, eh?

Oh, wait. Wait a minute.

Wait.

Oh, wait a minute.

Started already, has it?

What do you mean?

Oh, sit down, Rigsby. Have a drink.

It wouldn't have anything to do with the money, would it?

Certainly not!

Rigsby, if you think I'm after your money--

Sorry. Sorry, Phil.

Sorry.

I shouldn't have said that to you.

I'm sorry.

But you can see why I'm worried.

I mean, now, once the news gets out, they'll all be around,

won't they? - Who will?

Well, all of them--

the fortune hunters, the fast women,

the double glazing people.

They'll all be after it.

They're not getting it, though, not a penny.

It's mine. I've waited too long for this.



Yes, you'll have to be careful, Rigsby.

Yes.

I mean, what about the begging letters?

I shouldn't worry, Rigsby.

I keep writing them.

Yeah.

Oh, very funny.

One less for the champagne reception.

Oh, hey, Phil, hey, rich.

Oh, h*, rich, rich, rich.

[SINGING] Money is the root of all evil

Money is the root of all evil

Won't contaminate myself with it

Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me

[chuckles]

Oh, cut it.

These cat hairs get everywhere.

Listen, mate, if you don't stop molting,

I'm going to give you a coat of varnish, all right?

And don't look at me like that.

No one's indispensable.

If you're not careful, you might find yourself

replaced by a blue Persian, someone

more in keeping with my status.

[knocking] Yes?

Morning, Mr. Rigsby.

Morning.

My, we do look smart this morning.

- Thank you. - So "distang-ee."

Yes?

Yes, you've heard about my good fortune, I take it, Miss Jones?

Oh, yes, Mr. Rigsby.

And I must say, it couldn't have happened to a nicer person.

I quite agree.

Well, I have much time for chitchat this morning,

Miss Jones.

Mr. Rigsby has a rather urgent appointment with his tailor.

Oh, I thought you always went to that man in the market,

the one by the hot dog straw.

The one by the hot--

Miss Jones, I'm having a bespoke hacking jacket,

cavalry twill with a yellow waistcoat and a tie

with foxes' heads on it.

You think I'm going to some Herbert

who stands by the hot dog stall, you're very much mistaken.

Besides, all his stuff smells of onions.

I must say, it's very exciting seeing you rise in the world

like this, Mr. Rigsby. - Yes, it is.

I quite agree.

I don't suppose you have any time for me now.

Nonsense, Miss Jones, I've always got time for you.

I'll let you have five minutes.

Thanks very much.

Yes, what is it?

I was wondering, since you've come into this windfall,

if I could have a new carpet for my room.

New carpet, Miss Jones?

What's wrong with the coconut matting?

Oh, nothing, Mr. Rigsby.

It's very comfortable.

It's just that it leaves a little red rings on my knees.

I thought if I had something like this, tufty pile

with foam underlay--

Oh, you mean this one with a young couple lying

across it in their underwear? - Yes.

Yes, yes.

Well, you certainly couldn't do that on coconut matting.

You'd get red rings everywhere, especially the lady.

Oh, you weren't thinking of indulging in this sort

of thing, were you, Miss Jones?

No, certainly not, Mr. Rigsby.

I just wanted a bit more comfort.

No, no.

You do want a thick carpet, Miss Jones.

They're full of static electricity, very dangerous.

Why do you think they're sprawled out like that?

Probably been electrocuted.

But Mr. Rigsby, surely--

If I let you have a fitted carpet, Miss Jones,

they'll all want one.

But, Mr. Rigsby, I--

Mr. Rigsby, I thought that I was just a little bit special.

Don't wheedle, Miss Jones.

No, there was a time when I used to pay you more attention,

but not now.

I just don't have the time, Miss Jones.

Women just won't leave me alone these days.

- Really? - Yes.

The woman at the wet fish stand's

been making eyes at me yet again.

I think she fancies me.

Perhaps she was looking for stock.

Yes, but--

She's probably heard about the money, Mr. Rigsby.

No, no.

She said she thought I was cracking.

Oh, really?

Where?

Oh, Vienna, Vienna.

Envy, envy eaten away by it, you see.

Ah, Phil.

What's the matter with Ruth?

Oh, a woman scorned, Phil.

You know how it is.

I'm moving in different circles these days, love.

- Uh-huh. - Yes.

Ah, Rigsby.

Yes?

I was thinking, now you've got some money, what about a heated

towel rail for the bathroom?

A heated what?

A heated towel rail.

You're getting no heated towel--

you won't be-- you spend far too much time in that bathroom

as it is.

You won't be satisfied till it's like equatorial Africa in there.

You can afford it.

Oh, I can afford--

is that-- oh, Rigsby can afford everything--

fitted carpet, heated--

oh, good, look at this--

matching suite in Aztec gold, hand-painted mosaic tiles,

easy-flow shower unit in aquamarine, sepia-tinted mirror.

Sepia tint-- what do you want with sepia-tinted mirror?

You'd never see yourself.

You're just too mean, Rigsby.

All I wanted was a towel rail.

What's the matter, we burnt our bum on the paraffin stove

again?

Yes?

Ah, it's Mr. Snell.

Come in, come in.

Has the money come through, then?

No, no, Mr. Rigsby.

I'm afraid there's been a complication.

Oh, it's not a mistake.

I couldn't bear it.

No, no, no.

It's just a condition that I should have mentioned.

It's a formality. - Oh, I see.

- The fine print. - Oh, the fine print, I see.

Nothing serious? - Oh, oh, no.

RIGSBY: Good.

Well, as you know, your uncle George Rigsby

was a happily married man.

Yes, yes.

His wife had been dead for years, yes, yes.

Still, he had fond memories.

Oh, yes, yes.

And he lived to see the marriages of his close relatives

flounder on the rocks of acrimony and discord.

Yes, yes, most distressing, yes, yes.

Well, that's the condition, you see--

I see.

--that you also should be happily married.

I see.

You what?

Yes.

And your Aunt Maud, one of the executors,

is coming here tomorrow to ensure that the condition is

fulfilled.

Only then can we release the money.

Aunt Maud, that old bat?

But she hates me!

Oh, does she really?

[chuckles] Still, I'm sure you'll have no difficulty

in satisfying her.

You're clearly a man of great personal charm.

And, of course, you are happily married.

Oh, yes, yes.

Yes, yes.

I'm sure your wife considers herself to be the most fortunate

of women.

Well, good day, Mr. Rigsby.

And, by the way, I walked.

Oh, no.

Well, there goes the bathroom.

RIGSBY: What?

You're not happily married.

You haven't seen your wife in years.

Yes, all right, all right.

Don't rub it in.

Happily married.

It was all right for Uncle George.

He didn't have to live with her, did he?

The only time we met was at the wedding.

Ha, ha.

God, she was all sweetness and light then.

He never met her again afterward.

Never saw her again after that.

None of them did.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

That's right.

None of them did.

They wouldn't recognize her if they fell over her.

Aunt Maud wouldn't recognize her.

Anyway, she's as deaf as a post.

PHILIP: So?

So all I've got to do is get someone

to take the wife's place.

Yes, but who?

Miss Jones.

She wouldn't do it.

Oh, wouldn't she?

Everyone's got their price, mate.

You mean you want me to impersonate

your wife, Mr. Rigsby?

It's only for a few hours, you see.

Well, I couldn't do it.

It would be wrong.

It would be ill*gal.

I mean, you're supposed to be happily married.

We are happily married. She lives in Cleethorpes.

I live here. - Well, I'm sorry.

I couldn't do it.

And there's no use trying to persuade me.

Oh, come on, Miss Jones. Come on.

What do you say?

Hey, what about-- what about singing your feet

into the velvet luxury of our deep pile,

enjoy the sensual pleasure of our delicate fibers,

choose from our rich autumnal shades, eh?

What do you say?

What do I have to do?

That's better.

All you've got to do, Miss Jones,

is just to act the affectionate spouse.

I've got some of her old clothes downstairs.

Well, you can't call me Miss Jones.

- Oh, no, no. - What was her name?

- Veronica. - Veronica?

Oh, I knew there'd be sacrifices.

What was she like?

Uh, what was she like?

Well, she was-- it's difficult to describe, really.

She was-- the exact word evades me.

Well, you must remember what she was like.

Come on, don't be horrible.

Horrible-- that's it.

Did she have any "trays" that you may remember?

Any trays?

Well, she had this wooden one we used to have tea off of.

No, no, no.

I mean, characteristics, Mr. Rigsby.

Oh, I'm sorry, yes.

She had this very-- oh, traits, yes.

She had this very individual way with a cigarette.

Yes, she used to keep it in her mouth when she was talking.

[mumbles]

I remember she took it out during the service, yes.

And then this very bronchial cough.

She was always on high tar, you see.

Oh, I can't manage that.

And very distinctive laugh.

What was it like?

Something like a cross between a pneumatic drill

and someone sh**ting crows.

Oh, I couldn't possibly do it, Mr. Rigsby.

I didn't say it would be easy, Miss Jones, but have a try.

Go on, go on.

She had this very robust c*ck sense of humor.

Used to-- well, she used to slap you on the back

to emphasize the point.

[shrieks]

Mr. Rigsby!

Sorry, sorry.

That was when she was in a good mood.

Yes, if she was piqued, she'd hit you round the back

of the head with her handbag.

Well, I'm sorry, I can't possibly do it.

Oh, come on, Miss Jones.

- My whole nature would rebel. - Have a try.

Come on, Miss Jones. - No.

I'll make it wall to wall in shag.

What do you say?

All right.

That's it.

Now try the-- oh, sorry.

Try the cigarette, Miss Jones.

Yes, that's it.

Now then, inhale deeply.

That's it.

Right, right.

Now, keep-- Miss-- keep it in the mouth, in the mouth,

in the corner of the mouth. Drag.

[stammers]

Robust c*ck sense of humor, remember.

Wash yer cot.

Oh, very good, very good!

And you've got the cough.

Marvelous!

I think that's--

I think that's pretty well everything.

Are you nearly ready, Miss Jones?

That's it.

Turn around.

Oh, Miss-- it's perfect, Miss Jones.

Don't you mean Veronica?

Oh, Veronica, perfect.

How about-- how do you think I look?

- Very nice, Mr. Rigsby. - Thank you.

No, I can't call you that.

What's your first name?

We needn't go to those lengths, Miss Jones.

Mr. Rigsby, we're supposed to be married.

What did she call you?

Pretty well everything, really.

No, I mean--

I mean in the beginning, when she was being affectionate.

Well, we never went in for endearments very much,

not even at the beginning.

No, she used to smile quietly at me, put her hand on mine

and say, now, then, ratbag.

I can't call you that.

Now, what's your name?

Oh, it's [mumbles], a rather silly sort of name.

Well, what is it?

Rupert.

What?

Rupert.

Rupert?

Yes, Rupert Rigsby.

[laughs]

I'm sorry, Mr. Rigsby.

You don't look like a Rupert.

Well, of course I don't look like--

he's a little woolly bear with trousers and a checked scarf,

isn't he?

That's why I stopped using it.

Well, I shan't.

I think it's a very nice name.

Now, what shall we give Maud for her tea?

Yes.

What about some hot buttered scones?

Oh, no, no, no, no.

I think we'd be caught in disaster with her teeth.

No, she's a martyr to wind, as well, so we don't

want any social disasters.

I think it'd better be something she can dip, you know?

Right.

Oh, I'd better be getting off.

The train will be in-- yes, unless she's

coming by broom, of course.

Right.

Well, I think that's pretty well everything.

Perhaps we ought to get into our parts now, do you think?

Sorry?

Perhaps a little kiss before I go?

I beg your pardon?

Well, we've got to play man and wife,

you see, in front of Miss--

Well, do we have to go to those lengths?

I think it's quite important to get

a dress rehearsal in early.

Very well, Rupert.

You know, Miss Jones, I can't help thinking of what might have

been if our paths had crossed earlier,

if fate had been a little kinder, you know.

But it wasn't to be, I suppose.

And now it's too late.

Is it?

They say it's never too late.

Isn't that what they say?

Yes, that seems to be what they--

well, Miss Jones, you've never said anything like that

to me before.

A new warmth seems to have entered our relationship.

Well, better get down to the station.

Right.

Yes.

[telephone ringing]

Hello, sunshine.

Is he in?

Who?

Captain Bligh, the old skinflint.

Or perhaps I shouldn't say that now he's come into money.

Oh, you mean Rigsby?

That's his room there. - Oh, ta.

- You staying here? - Yes.

We'll, watch him.

Don't take any glass beads.

[laughs loudly]

You must be Aunt Maud.

Stow me.

Do I look that old?

That's what comes of being married to him.

I was a beautiful girl before he got hold of me.

Of course, that was years ago.

But I still wake up screaming.

[laughs loudly]

Look, I don't understand.

Who are you?

I'm Mrs. Rigsby, come back to rattle me chains.

Right.

Oh, you're here.

[EXAGGERATED c*ck ACCENT] Hello, dearie.

Fancy a cup of cha?

Or what about a drop of mother's ruin?

Where's Rupert?

That's who I'm looking for.

Oh, you must-- you must have just missed him, dear.

Never mind.

All girls together.

Park your BTM in that chair, girl, and get stuck in.

And never mind the wind.

I suffer from it something chronic.

Loosen your stays, girl, and get stuck in.

I'm not hungry.

Oh, shame.

Well, here, have a f*g, dear.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Doctor says they'll be the blooming death of me,

but I'm not bothered.

You only live once.

Ain't that right, Maud?

Who are you?

I don't think I've had the pleasure.

Ain't you?

Must be your age.

Don't you know me?

Veronica.

You've changed.

Weren't you at the wedding?

I thought I was.

Now I'm beginning to wonder.

Well, I'm not surprised.

What a day.

And when Rupert fell down in the aisle laughing,

I nearly bust my girdle.

And you're still together?

I never thought it would last.

Oh, you mean because I hit him with me bouquet?

Well, he kept treading on me train, didn't he, clumsy burk.

Still, he's not been too bad, Maud.

Mustn't grumble.

Yes.

Where did you go for your honeymoon?

Where did we go for our honeymoon?

You might well ask.

Where did we go for our honeymoon?

Well, where was it?

Southend, wasn't it?

Oh, I thought it was Blackpool.

No, no.

Oh, yes, yes.

Southend the first week and Blackpool the second.

But to tell you the truth, girl, by the end of the first week,

I was past caring.

Do you know what I mean, Maud?

I can't get over how young you look.

Love of a good man, Maud.

Have you got a photo of a wedding?

A photo?

No, no, Maud.

It was a slosh up, you know, standing there in those groups,

all that posing, standing there in the bleeding rain,

no film in the camera.

That's funny.

Yeah.

I've got one.

Oh, good-- oh, cor blimey.

Don't I look a fright?

Oh, and look at Rupert.

He looks like the condemned man.

My, how we've changed.

You certainly have.

You're 6 inches taller.

What?

Come off it.

You're not Veronica.

Oh, Maud, how did you guess?

It was the picture, I suppose.

I don't know why I agreed to do it.

She sounds a terrible woman.

Oh?

What's he been saying?

Oh, you don't know the half, Maud.

Led him a dog's life.

Oh, she did, did she?

And do you know she was always drawing on a cigarette?

Sometimes he couldn't see the room for smoke.

And then she had this terrible laugh.

What sort of laugh?

Well, he said it was a cross between a pneumatic drill

and somebody sh**ting crows.

Personally speaking, I think she was a bit common.

Do you know what I mean?

Oh, yes?

I only agreed to do it so that Mr. Rigsby could get the money.

He had to prove that he was happily married--

happily married to that woman.

Maud, I am glad the pretense is over.

I'm glad you found out.

Oh, I knew you couldn't be his wife.

Why?

Because I am.

Oh, blimey!

Oh, good heavens above!

[laughs loudly]

Maud, here we are, love.

Yes, yes.

Oh, Veronica sounds in sparkling form.

There we are.

Come on up here, my dear.

Your tea-- all laid out for you there.

Come along here. Here we go.

There. Now, you sit down.

She's not here.

And put all your-- you deaf, old cow, come here.

You sit down and dip your bread in something, love.

There we are.

No need to be suspicious.

She'll be in a minute.

Well, of course I'm suspicious.

You're hiding summat.

I can always tell.

Always was a shifty little devil.

Oh, I couldn't abide you.

Neither could your mother, come to that.

Oh, what are you talking about?

I was a lovely little chap.

You used to call me sunshine.

Not what I called you.

I was always laughing and joking.

Uncle George must have remembered.

I hadn't seen him for years, but he left me all his money.

Must have been gratitude.

Just jealous, you old bat, aren't you?

Yes.

[laughter]

I suppose if I don't get the money, it all goes to you, eh?

I say, I suppose-- oh, it's like talking to a post.

I suppose if I don't get the money, it all goes to you.

Oh, no, it goes to dog home.

The dogs-- oh, it's a waste.

God, just think what I could do with that.

Could travel the world, see strange, exotic places.

You can share in that, do you know, Aunt Maud?

I could send you post cards.

What's that?

I said, I could-- oh, forget it.

I could have your teeth fixed.

You could have gold ones.

You'd twinkle every time you smile.

Are you trying to bribe a poor old-age pensioner?

Of course not, you stupid old trout.

What was that?

Nothing, nothing.

Well, where is she?

I heard she'd left you.

No, no, no-- malicious gossip, Aunt Maud.

Just a minute.

Are you coming, my precious?

I'm coming, dearest.

Oh, oh.

Oh, she's through there.

I didn't realize.

Now, you'll notice a few changes, Aunt Maud.

She's lost a lot of weight, which has the strange effect

of making her appear taller.

Yes, it's a sort of optical illusion.

How's your eyesight these days?

There's no wrong with my eyesight.

No need to shout.

Nothing wrong with your voice, either, is there?

Are you coming, my dearest?

- I'm coming, my love. - There she is.

She's so affectionate.

There.

Now, you'll remember--

Oh.

Well, it is Veronica.

Of course it's Veronica.

How are you, Aunt Maud?

I thought you'd left him.

No, no, no.

We're as happy as two turtle doves.

Ain't that right, Rupert?

Oh, yes, yes.

Yes, it's been bliss.

I don't know how you've stuck it all these years.

None of us thought it'd last.

We all thought it was a bad omen when wedding cake collapsed.

You don't know him.

I know he doesn't look much, but underneath,

there's a heart of gold.

Oh, yeah.

Well, all I can say is, you deserve the money, Veronica,

for putting up with him all these years.

You mean we get it?

Aye.

And if it were up to me, you'd get the George

Medal for gallantry, as well.

Thank you.

Now, then, who was that woman?

It was Aunt Maud, love.

I mean the one that was pretending to be me.

Oh, that was Miss Jones from downstairs.

She'll have to go.

There's going to be none of that.

None of what?

No kissing and cuddling and hugging while I'm around.

Kissing?

There never was.

I know what you've come back for.

You've come to pick me clean, haven't you?

Ah, now, Rupert, that's no way for a happily married man

to talk.

Oh, god.

Remember the good times.

Oh, what good times?

- Did you miss me at all? - Miss you?

You must be joking.

Was there nothing about me at all that you missed?

What about my silvery laugh?

Your silvery what?

Or perhaps you don't like my laugh?

No, that's very--

You don't think it's a cross between a pneumatic drill

and someone sh**ting crowns? - Of course!

Who said that?

She did.

But I suppose she's refined.

I suppose her laugh's like tinkling cymbals.

But then she's not common, is she.

- Oh, no, not the handbag! - No refined, eh?

No, no, please!

I'll show you refinement!

How do you feel now, Mr. Rigsby?

Oh.

Oh, I still feel a little dizzy, Miss Jones.

Oh, god, that handbag gets worse.

I swear she had a brick in it.

What are you going to do?

You need police protection.

Police prot-- I need the Argyll

and Sutherland Highlanders.

I don't think they'd stand firm, either.

No, the only thing you can do in a case like this

is to rely on your best friends.

Well, I can't possibly stay, Mr. Rigsby, not after what's

happened. - What?

[loud laughter]

I can't either.

That laugh makes the pen leap across the page.

Oh, this is marvelous, isn't it?

Desert a sinking ship at a time-- yes, who is it?

Ah, Mr. Rigsby, I've been looking for you everywhere.

I'm afraid I've got some very bad news for you.

I want you to take a strong grip on yourself, old chap.

RUTH: Well, what's happened?

What is it?

Well, apparently George Rigsby never paid any income tax,

so it all goes to the Inland Revenue.

I'm afraid there's no money.

What, do you mean I don't get anything?

No. No, I'm afraid not.

VERONICA: Rupert, come here.

Oh, that's terrible news.

VERONICA: Rupert!

Oh, that's really terrible.

I don't know how I'm going to break that news to my wife.

[laughs] Oh, it's a shocking disappointment, isn't it, Phil?

VERONICA: Rupert, are you coming?

Yes, coming, my love.

Miss Jones, will you look at the time of the next train

to Cleethorpes?

Certainly, Mr. Rigsby.

Veronica, my dear, just a little word in your ear.

[music playing]