Pie in the Sky

[theme music] [rock music plays] [inaudible] Ralph, follow them.

Terry, in there!

No!

Ah, caught ya.

All right, get 'em out of here.

Come on, you lot, move!

-You, son, are nicked.

-Well what for?

Possession of funny cigarettes, -smelling like a sewer rat.

-He doesn't!

Oh, you have spent too much time with him, Miss.

[loud thud] -What's that?

-The owner's builder.

That's not building, that's smashing down!

It's his property, Miss.

He can do what he wants.

That's the law.

Have a look upstairs.

What's going on?

Why are you doing this?

These people need homes!

Oi, who told you to do this?

And I expect your presence here is a complete coincidence?

Trompettes de la mort.

"Trumpets of death."

Do-do-do-do I shall cook some later.

You can't.

Margaret's got concert tickets.

Ag-ga-ga-da!

Don't run.

All well, here?

Uh... oh, yeah, Mr. Fisher rang for you.

Mmm.

I told him you were out for the day.

-Yeah.

-[phone rings] And he said that he'd call back.

I think Margaret's gone to a lot of trouble to get the tickets.

So do I. I'm out.

[phone rings] Pie in the Sky?

[Fisher] Is Crabbe there?

-Who's speaking, please?

-He's out.

-[Fisher] Fisher.

-Ah, Mr. Fisher, no I'm sorry he's out.

Can I take a message?

[Henderson] Afternoon, Mr. Crabbe.

Afternoon.

So, this is the extension to your empire?

Yep, I paid over 1,000 pounds rent on this field.

I'm gonna put some primitive lambs out for the summer.

You don't know anything about sheep.

Sublet.

They'll belong to a pal.

He'll pay me rent, the lambs will up the nitrate.

[Henry] Oh, that's what it's called?

Then I'll plow it in.

Lovely stuff, crumbly when it breaks down, sort of halfway between a cob wall and a good cheddar cheese.

All right, all right, I've got the picture.

Well, I'd be interested in some of these primitive lambs.

And when you've got this one plowed, I'd be interested if you'd plant some of these.

Pink fir apple for salads.

They'd be a premium.

Is that... is that it?

"It?"

No sandwiches?

No, no sandwiches.

You come all the way out here to show me a potato?

Yeah.

Well, and to hear about your lambs.

Oh, and, I'd get that gate fixed before they arrive if I were you, ta-ra!

[dog barks] [rock music playing from bus] [music stops] Come on, puppy, go on.

[dog yelps] Whose field is it?

I don't know.

Some fat cat.

Who cares?

All property's theft.

Got any matches for the fire?

-Are we going to cook?

-Cook what?

That's to have a warm by.

We don't eat 'til we get some money.

Well, how do we do that?

Vince is gonna go busking.

Hope you ain't hungry.

[laughing] -[dog whining] -[guitar playing] Oh, no, no, come on?

You'll be putting those diners off their suppers.

What, do you own the street?

No, but I own the restaurant.

Look, here.

Find another pitch, all right?

-Fair enough.

-Thanks.

Not everyone can be Yo-Yo Ma.

No, but Yo-Yo wears a dinner suit and plays the cello really well.

And you're a regressive.

Yeah, what should a regressive make for your supper now?

Nothing, you relax.

I've got something in the deep freeze.

-What's that?

-Two nice pizzas.

Oh, Margaret.

Oh, look, can't we have one night in peace?

[sighs] Hey, hey, hey, hey you!

Mind the car!

Don't I know you?

I said, don't I know you?

Get stuffed!

You wanna come down to the nick and discuss it?

Right, what's your name?

Vince Hocking, now, get stuffed.

-Oh, right on time.

-Really?

Steve Turner's Steak Pie.

Meal for table two.

With trompettes de la mort, courtesy of the Chef.

Hmm, smells wonderful.

There's just one problem.

Ah, we know.

-What's this?

-Scotch woodcock.

It's fish.

Well, the anchovies are supposed to clear the palate before you taste the port.

Boy, I might serve the pudding on, I'll have to starve until Sunday.

What, no Mrs. Fisher?

Felicity's away on holiday.

Ah, so, you came here because you were hungry?

Not quite.

I want something from you.

It's my daughter, Jane.

She's disappeared.

Why?

Kids.

She's asserting her independence.

[Henry] You don't think she's in any sort of danger?

There's moral danger everywhere.

I'd like her back.

I'd like you to find her.

Before her mother gets home?

Anytime.

But, yes, before her mother gets back.

[sighs] Cambridge will help you.

Oh, is this official?

No, but, uh, Cambridge owes me one or two favors.

Course, sorry.

Jane.

Um, where do you think I might find her?

-If I knew that, I-- -I'm sorry.

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

[John] Here, sir.

[Henry] Thanks, John.

Um, cream or milk?

You use too much dairy fat.

Well, you don't have to take it.

We have steak tartare and raw spinach salad on the menu, but it's not compulsory.

Uncooked meat?

Are you mad?

Find her.

Bloody hell!

-Bloody hell!

-[horn honks] -Got the sister's address?

-Mm-hmm.

Something wrong?

Well, you don't do steak tartare.

Let this be a lesson to you, Cambridge.

You shouldn't believe everything Freddy Fisher tells you.

Come on.

Bloody hell.

-Oi!

-[dogs bark] Hey!

Oi!

What on earth's going on?

Shh, they're asleep.

I don't care if they are asleep.

What are you doing asleep in my field?

-What is it?

-It's the land owner.

I want you out.

Nah, it's a lackey.

Listen, this is my field.

I'm gonna keep sheep on it.

Oh, we don't mind.

I do, they'll all get foot-and-mouth off you lot.

How long have you actually been a shepherd?

Out!

Out, out, out!

Or I'll be back with the police.

Young lady, put those faggots down.

-Why?

-Because they're mine.

This is my field.

My field, my wood, I'm the one who's paid for it.

Gather your belongings and leave.

-[guitar playing] -All of you!

Oi!

Stop that now, and get this bus off my land!

-[guitar playing stops] -[dog barks] What's all the row about?!

You, you're leaving.

-Who says?

-Me.

You and whose army?

I'll be back, sonny.

And you'd better be gone when I do.

[Cambridge] Mr. Fisher really should report his daughter missing, officially.

[Henry] Well, if we don't find her, I expect he will.

He could ask for himself.

I don't see why we're here.

Oh, yes, you do.

You're here because he's made sure you owe him something, and you do, don't you, Detective Sergeant?

So, when Fisher asked you to go and inquire after his daughter, you couldn't say no.

Well, we couldn't say no.

No.

Well, which one is it?

[doorbell rings] [Clare] Looking for me?

-Miss Fisher?

-Herself.

You have the air of policemen.

Is there something wrong?

We're looking for your sister.

My father sent you.

Well, the last I knew, Jane was with her boyfriend.

[Henry] Have you got an address?

She made me promise not to pass it on.

I won't, I just want to talk to her.

Well, you'll have to get off the mat.

[Cambridge] You know you shouldn't do that?

That what he says.

You got any spare change?

[clock tolling] That's nice.

Thanks.

Can you spare some change for a cup of tea?

Sure.

[Woman] Cheers.

This is so embarrassing.

Yeah, well, you want money, got to do it.

-Here you go, ta.

-Thanks.

-There.

-Thanks.

[Clare] She doesn't look like the photo.

[Henry] Oh, what does she look like?

She's a weekend hippie, a traveler who doesn't travel too far.

Anything outstanding?

No.

Well... She's dyed her hair.

Magenta?

Hmm, it's a sort of crimson mauve.

It's very cheerful.

What does my father want from her?

He wants her home before your mother gets back.

[laughs] And what would she care?

What do you mean?

My mother's in Kenya doing White Mischief with her boyfriend.

My sister hasn't lived at home for months.

What does Freddy want?

I'm sorry, I just don't know.

Well, I've gotta get some shuteye.

Jakarta tomorrow, San Francisco Saturday.

Is Mr. Fisher divorced, then?

-No.

-Poor man.

Look, not a word about what you heard up there.

See if you can find this address.

And if you spot any girls with mauve hairdos, sit on them, and phone me.

[laughs] It's my day off, sir.

And mine, which means I should be cooking lunch.

Well, you might at least look busy.

One leek vinaigrette, one potted shrimp, one vegetable terrine, two wings of skate, and two mussels.

Right, I'll do the skate.

Figures are a bit down this month, Mr. Crabbe.

Oh, yes?

Go on then, tell him.

[John] What?

He thinks our menu's getting boring.

-No, it's not boring.

-What's boring?

-My menu.

-No, it's... Well, we can't be that boring.

I've just taken another order from Eating People.

[laughs sarcastically] "Eating People"?

[Steve] The gourmet group.

They're not gourmets.

They're a bunch of miserable, old foodies and fatties.

That's all.

They came last time, and they asked for stargazy pie.

I mean, I ask you?

I told them we didn't deal in such faddishness.

Hey, I'll make one if you want.

I've never made one.

The pilchards are cheap.

All right then, you're on.

Uh, can I help you?

I'm trying to control our throwouts.

Yeah, we all are.

Steve, will you go and check the contents of the fridge with Mrs. Crabbe, please?

This mackerel's had it at the end of the day.

[Margaret] What else?

Oh, half a ham, some bacon cubes.

Some jaundiced-looking leeks, and the Caerphilly's had it.

Oh, and the garlic's gone dry.

Not forgetting Steve Turner's steak pie no one got to eat last night.

Oh, no, I had a bit.

-Any good?

-It was superb.

Not as good as yours, but-- No, no, no, superb.

Well, it's all too old now.

Let's sling the lot of it.

Uh, actually, I had other thoughts.

What other thoughts?

I thought we could feed a few people who were down on their luck.

These'll get cold.

Oh, look, we're short of eggs.

I saw some kids busking in the High Street.

If you won't stop feeding people at that back door, then you'll never get rid of them.

Didn't Soyer feed the poor?

Busking in Barstock is not starving in Spitalfields.

That's it, he fed starving silk weavers.

Heroic.

And you can be a hero, too.

Afternoon.

Afternoon.

Sergeant Cambridge, would you like a cup of Sergeant's Tea?

What's special about it?

Comes from my flask.

Actually, I'd like a bit of information.

You know the boarded up building on March Street?

The squathouse was.

Quite, what happened?

-Don't you know?

-No.

We raided it a couple of days ago.

-For?

-Drugs.

Who lived there?

Is this a trick question?

No.

Druggies, bunch of scruffy herberts, hippies, crusties, the great unwashed.

You didn't like them then?

No, I don't.

I mean, they take, but they don't put back.

Do you know the owner of that building had to grab the chance to nick back his own property?

And where have the scruffy herberts gone now?

Everywhere.

[computer beeps] [sighs] What are you looking for?

A man named Vince Hocking.

In there.

Tried at Barstock Crown Court a year ago for attempted murder.

That's right, I remember.

Crippled a man in a fight at that pop concert.

Of course, not guilty.

He still had the fight, and the bloke is still crippled.

There's no justice in that, eh?

Well, if he didn't do it-- Then there was the GBH six months before, -and he got off with that, too.

-Well-- That one was his girlfriend.

He's our local psycho.

You want my advice?

Go on.

Watch yourself.

-[bell rings] -[Henderson] Shop!

Sir?

I've come to complain.

Most people have, sir.

I have been invaded by crusties.

My field is full of old buses, dogs, and lay-abouts.

[Sergeant] Yes?

Well, I want something done about it?

They're all in here, aren't they?

Sorry, the errols, sir?

They call 'em badge, they're beggars.

What, they beg from you?

Very funny.

Just you cut with the cheek and make with the notebook.

I want action.

Don't make a habit of it.

Ignore him.

Come on.

I've got quite a few things in there for you.

Right, there is ham, bacon, leeks.

This is pie.

What's this cheese called?

Caerphilly, Mrs. Crabbe.

-Well, it's not the stuff of souffles, -[dog barking] but it'll keep your ribs from caving in.

That's very kind of you, thank you.

And there is some garlic somewhere.

Wonderful.

Good.

Now, do you think you can manage all this?

I... you don't have a box or something?

Oh, Steve'll sort you out.

He'll even suggest a recipe for you.

[Steve] Here.

So, what do you reckon I should make with it?

[John] Haste, hop it.

[Cambridge] That her?

[Henry] I suppose so, yeah.

Well, what now?

Well, I can always trudge down into the field and wave my warrant card at her, and say, "I've come from your Dad, he says you have to come home."

What do you reckon?

-[laughs] No.

-No.

[Cambridge] I don't suppose we've done our duty by just finding her?

-No.

-No.

Now, this is what I call action.

When do we move in with the tractors and the chains?

Chains, what chains?

Oh, I see.

We're waiting for the heavy mob.

Heavy mob?

Yeah, with the C.S.

gas and the dust-bin lids.

They won't go quietly, you know, I've asked already.

God, Henderson, you're turning into a real rate payer.

Pay rates.

I pay rent, too, on that field.

What happened to the Rainbow Alliance then, eh?

What happened to the green refugee from the inner city who came to my kitchen door with a wheelbarrow load of Wiljas?

The bank got their claws into him.

What are Wiljas?

[Both] Potatoes.

What if my mate with the primitives sees that lot polluting the grazing?

He'll pull out.

I'll be in a right shtook.

You'll have to look elsewhere for your nitrates.

I don't suppose that field's gonna lack nitrate.

What on Earth are primitives?

[Both] Sheep.

What do you know about?

Well, Butterworth's Police Law.

Cover to cover.

Look, Henderson, those people are just not gonna get up and walk away from that field.

And it'll cost you a fortune to get a court order to make them go.

The law in this land is a conspiracy against the honest man.

So, you'll just have to use your brains instead.

Ha.

For instance, I knew a girl who fell in love with a boy, but her parents thought he was unsuitable.

What to do?

So they came up with a plan.

They asked him to come round their house every night for a week.

And every night, they put him in the best chair, they gave him the best food, and they smothered him with affection.

And they told the girl how lovable he was, and they told her how happy they were for her.

And, what happened?

Well, on Friday night, she dumped me.

See, you've got to charm them out of there, Henderson.

Perhaps you can do it for him.

No tractors, no chains?

No, no, trust me.

Just bring your van to my kitchen door tomorrow morning, all right?

Was the girl Mrs. Crabbe?

These?

Yes, take all of those.

And watch out, they're very hot and very heavy.

-Bread.

-Thank you.

Thank you.

Careful.

Morning, sir.

What's in those things?

Uh, fish soup.

I thought food was supposed to leave restaurants inside the clients.

New variation of an old idea, sir.

Well, any joy?

Perhaps.

You found her?

-[heavy sigh] -Have you talked to her?

No, not yet, sir.

-Where is she?

-Nearby.

And she's safe?

I think so, yes.

Well, take me there.

No, forgive me, sir, no.

It's very delicate.

It's like tickling trout.

What, and I'm not delicate?

[dog barks] Cambridge, do you mind taking the basket?

[dog barking] Okay, folks.

This is my friend Mr. Crabbe.

He brought you a present.

Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to offer you a deal.

In exchange for leaving Mr. Henderson's land-- What a surprise?

And go where?

-Just away.

-Typical.

[Henry] Well, it is his field.

What are you gonna do if we don't?

Turn up with a bunch of blue uniform fascists to beat us up?

-Hear him out.

-No, no, no.

Look, in exchange for your leaving Mr. Henderson's land on Friday, I'll feed you a meal once a day, every day until then.

-Including Friday.

-Done.

Weren't gonna stay anyway.

This field's got a bad aspect to it.

It doesn't drain.

Thanks, mister.

Carry on with this lot, would you?

Vince Hocking.

And what are you after, a date?

[Jane] Who's he?

Uh, it's Alexis Soyer, Patron Saint of Modern Chefs.

Well, Patron Saint to me, actually.

What did he do?

He was a chef for the Reform Club in the 1850s.

He, uh, fed the starving in London, and he invented the first field kitchen for the soldiers in the Crimean War.

He was a great man.

Do you want some soup?

No, thanks.

Tom gave me some of your ham.

Oh, listen, um, I'd like to have a talk with you.

I thought you would.

I know who you are.

I remember you coming home with my father when I was a little girl.

He's very worried about you, you know?

He's worried about himself.

Look, come and tell me about your dad.

Hey!

What do you think you're doing?

Give it here.

If you want a drink of cider, get your own, not mine.

I call my father the ball and chain.

He's a control freak.

So, is this your breakaway?

It's not just me.

My sister Clare left home at 17.

My mother's been having affairs as long as I can remember.

I can see your father poured all of his energies into the job.

And me.

Clare was already about to flunk her exams.

But me, he decided I would be his project.

So... No school results were good enough.

My clothes weren't right.

Why was-- why was my hair like this and not like that?

Why are my shoes unpolished?

He never left me alone.

While I was a schoolgirl I had to put up with it.

Ah, but now I've put off childish things.

Six months ago, I went to live with Clare.

Then I moved in with a boyfriend, Terry.

Ooh, I can see your father objected to that.

Objecting would be normal.

Screaming, shouting, stamping feet would be normal.

But my father's abnormal; he likes to play games.

What games?

He organized a drugs raid at the place where we were living.

Now Terry's in prison awaiting trial for this much cannabis.

You want your boyfriend back?

No, Terry's hopeless.

I was about to give him the heave-ho anyway.

But my father shouldn't have locked him up, just to punish me.

It's not right!

And is this your way of getting revenge?

Only until Friday.

[Henry] Then what?

Then I leave with the others.

[clock tolling] [Margaret] Aren't you coming to bed?

[Henry] I was thinking.

What?

Well, families.

I mean, it doesn't matter what you do, so much as how you do it.

-Oh, Fisher and his kid?

-Hmm.

I mean, if he can't get on with his kids, he should at least behave well.

Ah.

Well, that's not a problem we have to face.

No.

I love you, Henry.

I know.

Oi!

What's your game?

We brought these for the lady.

[Henry] Oh, thank you.

Thank you.

You haven't got any work going, have you?

-Such as?

-Uh, I can wash up.

-Breakfast, John?

-No, thanks.

Steve?

Yeah?

[Henry] What's wrong, John?

I just think those people are taking liberties.

They're always after something.

He's just after work.

Well, I hope the customers don't see him.

-They won't.

-No, they might smell him.

Oh, come on, John.

Everyone needs a break sometime.

I mean, is a morning's work too much to ask?

Is that all?

That's all.

Look, give him this when he's finished, all right?

-Me?

-Yes, you.

I have to go out.

I'm leaving you in loco parentis.

So be a good father, all right?

[clears throat] Oh, dear.

Sir?

Sergeant.

How are things on the front line?

All quiet, sir.

Shall I call the Superintendent?

No, I'm meeting Detective Inspector Crabbe here.

Oh, he's in the back office, sir.

[knocks on door] Uh, don't go away, Sergeant.

Sir?

With your permission, sir?

Carry on, Inspector.

Uh, your collar, this one.

Which?

Terrence Leonard Curtis, born 11th of June, 1974, Slough, Berkshire.

[Sergeant] Uh, yes, sir?

Possession of a controlled substance with intent to supply.

What was it, what was the drug?

It was cannabis, sir.

Cannabis, right.

And, uh, how much?

Uh, quarter an ounce, sir.

Quarter of an ounce.

Yeah, well, some dealer, eh?

And, uh, how did this arrest come about?

A raid.

Acting on information supplied by?

Uh, it was, uh, headquarters.

Criminal intelligence, I should think.

You should think?

It's funny that nobody bothered to tell the drug squad, eh, about your major drugs baron and his quarter of an ounce of cannabis resin?

-He still had it.

-[Fisher] That'll do, Sergeant.

Close the door on your way out.

Sir.

Your daughter believes you arranged to have this boy arrested.

-But I didn't.

-Well, of course, you didn't, sir.

I know that.

But it's what she believes, that's the point.

And since he was charged for being in possession of such a small amount, you can see why, from her point of view.

Possession of drugs is wrong.

Absolutely, sir, I couldn't agree more.

But what'll happen when Terry's brief gets up in court?

"Your honor, the raid took place, my client was arrested, the squat was smashed, for one reason and one reason only, because A.C.C.

Fisher wanted his daughter back."

-But it isn't true.

-Well of course not, sir.

No, no, no.

But will the jury believe it?

And what will the press make of it, hmm?

You want my advice, sir?

Go on.

Get Terry Curtis bailed, drop the intent charges, and have him cautioned for being in mere possession.

End of fuss.

It's not up to me to drop the charges.

No, of course not, sir.

But you're not without influence, are you?

She thinks I'm a monster.

Well, prove to her that you're not.

Fetch her home.

No, we should be patient, sir.

She's bound to want to talk to you when the boy gets out.

[sighs] Oi, Magenta!

What are you doing, juggling?

Nah, I've done some work, and I've got some money.

We're gonna have a party.

-Do you want some?

-Yeah.

[woman yelling] [Woman] Come on.

[woman shouting] [crowd cheering] [humming] Good evening.

Over there.

[Woman] Your table.

They're here.

You know, you're a class bird.

Thanks.

I've had my eye on you.

Oh.

How's about me and you get together?

Uh, get off!

Stuck up cow!

What's wrong?

Him.

Oh, ignore him.

It's his hormones.

I'm sick.

Well, have a walk round or something.

Ah!

Yes!

[giggles] Ladies, stargazy pie.

[All] ooh!

[ladies chattering indistinctly] [woman laughing] [Woman] You're gonna taste it for us.

[Woman] Come on, you try it first.

[woman moans] [Woman] Bon appetit.

Thank you.

[Woman] Ooh, it's not so wonderful as it looks?

[Woman] Oh.

Oh.

Oh, they don't like it?

[sighs] Well, it's not my finest moment, Chef.

In fact, it's terrible.

How would you improve it?

What, do you really wanna know?

You've got to bury it for four years, first.

[both chuckle] [grunts] Is Mr. Crabbe ready?

In a sec.

Some coffee-on-the-go if you want some.

I'm giving up making pies.

They never get eaten.

Oh, come on, Steve.

Everyone has disasters sometime.

The trick is keep it simple.

Should have seen the food I made in prison.

Not that simple.

[laughs] -[Sergeant Fisher] Joke?

-[Henry] Ah, good morning, Sergeant.

I didn't expect to see you.

That business we talked about.

The fellow's out, the charges have been dropped.

Good.

I thought we might go and see the, uh, the girl this morning?

Yes, sir.

Milk, sugar?

There's no time for all that now.

-Oh, that's better.

-[Steve groans] I'm counting the hours.

[Vince] Oh, I'm getting to like it here.

We had a deal.

You'll get your way.

Here comes your minder.

Hold it!

-Where'd you get that?

-What?

That!

Where'd you get it?

[Vince] I found it on the ground.

It's my daughter's, where is she?

[Vince] Not here, evidently.

Oh, so you know her.

Don't I know you?

Probably from dance classes.

His name is Vince Hocking, sir, a regular from the Crown Court.

Ah, yes.

So, uh, you live up here?

Squat, not live.

What's it got to do with you where I live?

Where's my daughter?!

I don't know.

What's this on the scarf?

Looks like blood.

-Do you know that?

-If this is hers-- If, if what?

-What will you do?

-I'll have you, sonny!

[Vince] One more word out of you, and I'll pan you!

Right, that's it, behavior likely to occasion a breach of the peace, you're nicked!

Put him in the car, Sergeant.

Use as much force as you have to.

-Sir.

-All right.

-This is your fault.

-Mine?

You and your bloody cop psychology.

You knew where she was.

You could have got her back without all this fuss.

You could have made her.

No, no, you had to be the avuncular D.I.

Crabbe.

That's your trouble, you've got to be liked by everyone.

And these bloody nutters done God-knows-what to her.

If anything's happened to her, I'll-- Excuse me, sir.

Please, look.

A spot of blood, see?

Yeah, and another one, sir.

And one here.

You see, she was walking along slowly with a wound.

So?

So, not running, not fighting.

No splashes, you see?

Just spots.

She was walking along with an injury.

Could have been a nosebleed.

Were there any, was there any blood on him?

Well, not obviously.

Well, he's hardly wearing a spare suit, is he?

You haven't arrested him, have you, sir?

Haven't you been through all that with your daughter's boyfriend?

Ex-boyfriend.

I think a little humility on the part of the father is called for here, sir, please?

Think about it.

Meanwhile, I'll have a polite word with chummy in the car.

How was she injured?

She got drunk and fell over.

Uh, what did you do?

Took her to hospital.

But they won't tell you where she is.

How do you know?

Said she wanted nothing to do with her family.

Course, now seeing her family, it all fits.

Hmm.

[doorbell rings] [dog barks] Hi, I got your note.

You look good.

Well.

Oh, you've had your hair done, it looks good.

You mean, I've got stitches in my face?

Oh.

Drink, I hit rock-bottom with those people, Mr. Crabbe.

Woke up in hospital, and realized I can't live like that.

Literally borrowed my sister's clothes.

How'd you know where to find me?

I didn't.

I knew Clare was away, so when I saw there wasn't a key under the mat, I took a chance and left a note.

[Margaret] Henry?

Smells good.

Uh-huh, it's for you.

Dad.

Jane.

[Jane] Did you bake that?

No.

Oh.

Oh, would you like some?

Yeah, yeah, I would, thanks.

Perhaps he's got a heart, after all?

Well, 'til the next time.

[Knocking on door] Who is that?

Our bus broke down.

Oh.

You feed them once, you never get rid of them.

And who gave them the money?

Come in.

Supper?

[ending theme music]