The Fast Lady (1962) Movie Script
Oh, bugger off!
Oh, you stupid old buzzard, you!
Oh!
Mr. Troon?!
Whoa!
Gert!
The Hon.
Sec.'s dead!
Ooh, just look at all the blood!
Blood?!
Where?!
Oh!
Send for a doctor!
Get an ambulance!
Oh, Mr. Troon, you
poor man, you badly hurt?
Fairly badly, Miss
Timpkins, but I'll manage.
Oh.
Shan't be a moment, Jackie, baby.
You want me to look
with it, don't you, eh?
Oh, you sexy beast.
Oh, I like a little
bit better than a lot
And a lot better than
a little bit of it
Oh, will you be late
tonight, Mr. Fox, as usual?
Shouldn't be at all surprised, Mrs. S.
Going to an orgy in Golders Green.
Don't wait up.
I've no intention of doing so.
Kindly do not forget to bolt the door.
And I'll thank you not
to make as much noise
as you did last night.
Ah, yes, well, I won't
bring her in tonight,
I'll deal with her outside.
And, Mr. Fox, I haven't
had last week's rent yet.
Yes, well, things are a bit dicky
in the car trade at the moment.
But not to worry, Mrs. S.
Come on, give us a wee kiss.
Come on, Freddy!
My sister.
Why don't you turn that game in?
I refuse to be driven off
the roads by you motorists.
Buy yourself a decent car.
Get yourself a girl.
This one's for sale.
Possibly a bit on the fast side,
but she's on very modern lines.
Smashing upholstery.
She's a real bargain.
What a suggestion.
Other sales points
include an ample rear boot,
loose covers, and automatic clutch,
leaving plenty of room
for fancy knee work.
Dirty beast.
Oh, you poor thing.
You've hurt your leg.
Ooh, aye.
Who was that?
Hm, oh, that's our fellow lodger.
Works for the town council.
Fancy a ride on his handlebars?
No thanks.
He can ring his own bell.
Oh.
You know, Jackie,
you're one of the loveliest
girls I've ever met.
I don't know why it is,
but I've always been mad about redheads.
And do you mean to
say he didn't even stop?
He did not!
For all he cared, I might
have been splattered
all over the road.
Oh, you poor thing.
Anyway, it's not bleeding.
What?
'Tis so.
Oh, then we must put some iodine on it.
I hope you're not going to
let him get away with it.
Oh, certainly not.
I'll trace him through his number.
I don't work in the council
offices for nothing.
And then you'll make
him buy you a new bicycle?
Aye, and a new plastic picnic pack.
Bulmer!
Now what does he want?
Don't let it happen again.
Ferncliff.
Ferncliff.
Where is the blasted place?
Don't you bloody cyclists
ever give hand signals?!
Away, and learn to drive!
Oh, no.
Bulmer!
Lose it, Bulmer!
Is it your contraption?
Aye, it was.
Look at the hole you've made in my lawn!
Look what you've done to my roadster.
And, if I'm not mistaken,
this is the second time
you've buckled one of my wheels.
I have never set eyes
on you in my life before!
Ooh.
This house is called Ferncliff?
It is.
And your name is Chingford?
Commander Chingford.
Quite.
And I'd be right in assuming
that you are the owner
of car 200 DY0?
What is all this about?
I happen to be the cyclist
you tried to murder last Sunday afternoon.
I don't know what you're moaning about.
But since I only see only the backsides
of cyclists when I'm driving,
I can hardly be expected
to recognise their faces.
I've got 22 witnesses
and unless you're prepared
to settle this account,
I intend to summons you for contravening
the Motor Vehicles and Road
Traffic Acts of 1930 and 1934.
There's the bill.
- Don't you quote
the Road Traffic Act at me!
I remember the incident perfectly.
You deliberately obstructed me.
That's not what my
22 witnesses will say.
I have no intention of affording
your fellow pedal-pushers
the pleasure of committing
perjury at my expense.
This is blackmail.
I shall consult my lawyers.
Follow me.
Good for you!
The old man's always
bossing people around.
Aye, but I don't like
the sound of those lawyers.
Don't you worry.
They'll make him pay up.
They always do.
I'm Claire Chingford.
Come and have a drink.
Well, I wouldn't say no
on a hot day like this, Miss Chingford.
My name's Troon.
Murdoch Troon.
Are you Scotch?
Scottish, yes.
You have a kilt?
Well, as a matter of fact, I do.
And do you ever wear it?
Well, not as much down
here among the Sassenach,
except on extra special
occasions, of course.
Tell me, do you wear
anything underneath?
I most certainly do.
Come on.
Not there, not on my prize Sam McCready!
Blithering idiot.
No, of course I wasn't talking to you.
Don't be such a fool.
Help yourself!
Oh, thanks.
Thank you.
Well, here it comes.
Down Sauchiehall Street,
or whatever you say on these occasions.
My, that's an awfully
powerful fruit cup, isn't it?
Well, hardly a fruit cup.
It's a mixture of vodka and curacao,
usually taken in smaller glasses.
But, of course, you being a Scot...
Ah, Miss Chingford, a
right good williewaught
never did a Scot any harm.
Willie who?
Williewaught.
"Here's a hand my trusty
fiere and gie's a hand o'thine
"and we'll tak a right guid williewaught
"for auld lang syne.
"We twa hae run about the
braes and pu'd to gowans fine,
"but we've wandered mony a
weary foot sin auld lang syne."
Miss Chingford, may I
replenish your glass?
To save trouble, and as your
account comes to four pounds,
17, and sixpence, here's a fiver.
And kindly stop quoting
Burns to my daughter.
Aye, what
about that front wheel
that got broken this afternoon?
As you haven't 22 witnesses,
you won't be able to blackmail
me into paying for that!
And now, get off my property!
Murdoch can't go yet,
he hasn't finished his williewaught.
Do you think we'd better?
Go on.
- Sure it'll be all right?
- Go on.
Don't worry.
Down Sauchiehall Street.
"And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp
"and surely I'll be mine,
"and we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet
"for auld lang syne."
Goodbye, Miss Chingford.
It's been a rare privilege and
a great pleasure knowing you.
Oh!
Clumsy oaf!
Now look what he's done!
Murdoch, are you all right?
Perfectly all right,
thank you, Miss Chingford.
Oh.
Oh, we can't let him go like
that, he's hurt himself.
Good!
Murdoch, how far have you got to go?
Only six miles.
Oh, leave that thing here.
I'll give you a lift.
Oh, no, it's not necessary.
Besides, what would your father say?
Oh, who cares.
You can collect your
penny-farthing anytime.
Come on, get in.
Well, all right.
I'm sorry, Miss Chingford.
Those williewaughts must have
been stronger than I thought.
You must take my advice next time.
I will.
Next time?
What do you do about your girlfriends?
Well, frankly, I haven't
got one at the moment.
I'm not surprised.
Surely, a chap like you should have a car?
Aye, I've sometimes thought
that the assistant to the town clerk
should have a wee saloon
like this, you know.
Why not a sports car?
You like the fresh air.
Do you like sports cars, then?
Oh, I'm mad about them.
But the great dictator
won't let me have one.
And I like the men who drive them.
Do you?
Yes, I do, you silly old williewaught.
Press it again.
I'd like that on my bike.
Thank you very much, Miss Chingford.
Oh, are you getting out?
Oh, I'd like
to go for a ride in it.
Where's the handle?
I'm really very much obliged.
That's all right.
Whew, whose is this?!
Oh, Freddy Fox's, I expect.
He's in the car business.
He brings a different
car home every night.
Oh, marvellous.
Absolutely fabulous.
Red Label Bentley, late '27, three litre,
short chassis speed
model with long stroke,
four-cylinder engine,
fitted with twin slopers,
and single overhead camshaft.
You sure know an awful
lot about cars, don't you?
Oh, I'm mad about them.
Oh, it's called The Fast Lady.
Is this the sort of car
you had in mind for me?
Well, hardly.
You have to be really with it
to handle one of these things.
No, what I mean to say is
it's the last thing to have
if you haven't learned to drive.
Mind you, I'd adore to have it myself.
Hello.
Aren't you going to
introduce us, lover boy?
Oh, certainly.
Miss Chingford, this is Mr. Fox.
How do you do?
How about a buzz around
the houses, Miss Chingford?
The old girl goes like a bomb.
Finest car in our showrooms.
Well, it'll have to be quick.
Dinner's at eight.
I'll have you back
before the table's laid.
Don't bother to wait, lover boy.
If I must say so, Miss Chingers,
you're one of the loveliest
girls I've ever met.
I don't know why it is,
but I've always been mad about blondes.
Change down, brother.
I'm not kidding.
The moment I first saw you, the
old chemicals began to work.
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
Chemicals?
The old love glands, you know.
When I chap looks across a crowded room,
sees a beautiful stranger,
they all start to bubble up
and say, "This is it, Freddy.
"This is the real thing."
Your chemicals saying anything to you, eh?
Your mixture's too rich.
That's a pity, mm.
Well, in that case,
perhaps I might interest
you in a buying this car?
Ah, you certainly could, if
you could interest my father.
But as he owns Alba Motors,
I don't think that'll be very easy.
Alba Motors?
What, the sports car people?
Ah, that's interesting.
You don't suppose you
could get your father
to give me the agency for
Alba in this area, do you?
I don't think so.
You're not his type, either.
That's funny.
Mr. Troon, your supper's ready.
Come along.
Oh, you poor thing.
You've been in the wars again.
Eh?
Oh, aye, aye.
Did you enjoy your ride, Miss Chingford?
Super car.
Bye-bye, Freddy.
Bye, Claire!
Hello, darling.
You can collect your bike
anytime you like, williewaught,
but preferably when Daddy's out.
He usually plays golf
on Saturday afternoons.
What's all this Claire
and Freddy business?
Well, don't be a square, you square.
You can't go on calling a girl like that
"Miss Chingford" forever, can you?
Why, have you got your headlamps on her?
Oh, don't be ridiculous.
Ooh, I just wondered.
Between you and me, old man,
I think she's got a bit of a shine on you.
Oh, man, don't be silly.
Well...
Did she say something about me, then?
Rather, she never
stopped talking about you.
She seemed rather keen on
you buying The Fast Lady.
Don't know why.
- Did she?
Yeah.
Oh, don't think I'm
gonna fall for that one.
Besides, I can't even drive.
Oh, you poor thing.
Come in.
There, I thought you'd like
a nice glass of hot milk.
Oh, thank you very much, Mrs. Staggers.
Counting your money, Mr. Troon?
Aye, I'm not doing so badly, Mrs. S.
You wouldn't be thinking of
getting married, would you?
Married?
Oh, no.
Don't think that marriage
isn't on my agenda, Mrs. S,
but, well, it's not the sort of thing
a sensible chap rushes into, you know.
Quite right, Mr. Troon.
Don't you be hasty.
Sleep tight.
Oh, it's because those green
hills are not highland hills
Or the island hills
They're not my land's hills
And fair as these green
foreign hills may be
They are not the hills of home
Did you want something?
As you've bust your bike,
I wondered if you'd like a
lift to work tomorrow morning?
Oh, that's very kind of you.
It's a pleasure.
Pleasure.
I thought we could, I thought we...
Do we have to have that
ghastly programme on?
Aye, we do, and it's not ghastly.
It's the best programme
on English television.
Oh.
What's all this about a lift, anyway?
Well, I thought we could drop in
at the country hall and get a licence.
Why, are you getting married?
No, not that sort of licence.
I mean a provisional driving licence.
Then you could take your first
driving lesson tomorrow night.
Is it very expensive to learn to drive?
Now, if you went to Kingscombe
School in Pepper Road,
the first lesson is free.
Is that so?
Mm.
Pepper Road, eh?
Well, I'll think about it.
Yeah, you do that.
Chap with your knowhow shouldn't
need more than one lesson.
Cheery-bye.
Don't overwork your bagpipes, will you?
Get
yourself a sports car.
Do
you like sports cars, then?
I like
the men who drive them,
you old williewaught.
65 laps completed, three to go,
on the 2.9-mile circuit
here at Silverstone,
and this critical race for
this year's World Championship
has developed into a titanic struggle
between John Surtees, Graham Hill,
and the brilliant young Scottish
newcomer, Murdoch Troon.
This Troon is displaying
tremendous courage and determination
because with the peculiar
suspension on his car,
he must realise that his
tyres are shot to ribbons,
but with only two laps to
go now, he's not letting up.
He's staying right in there
and fighting it out with the masters.
And now, as they come
down into Woodcoate Corner
for the last time, it's
Surtees, Hill, and Troon,
and I don't think there's
anything Troon can do about it.
But he's closing up on Graham Hill
on the braking distance,
and he's taking him on the inside,
and he's coming past Hill,
and this isn't possible,
but he's coming alongside Surtees,
and he's getting past
Surtees, and he's done it,
and Troon wins by inches.
What a brilliant victory
for this young Scotsman.
But now, the car
suddenly swings across the road.
He's lost it and he's over,
the car's turned over.
I don't know what it was.
I should think it must
have been a tyre burst
at over 120 miles an hour.
But we'll send John
Bolster down to investigate
just as soon as possible.
Governor!
Governor, are you all right?!
Speak to me, Governor!
Speak to me!
I'm all right, Jack.
Any last words, Troon?
I'm glad that I won for Scotland.
Well, we were lucky to hear the words
of a very gallant gentleman.
Governor.
Make way, please.
Make way.
Make way, now.
Is he gonna be all right, Doc?
I shall have to operate at once.
Pass me me saw.
I don't need an anaesthetic, Doc.
Just give me a wee williewaught.
Murdoch, darling.
Half
past seven, Mr. Troon.
Oh, darling.
Mr. Troon!
Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Staggers.
I was having a lovely dream.
It's not like you to have
those sort of dreams, Mr. Troon.
You'd be better off having a cold bath.
Yes, madam, I've fixed
your test at Broadley Heath.
Yes.
Excuse me a moment, madam.
Would you mind taking a seat, sir?
Thank you.
Now, listen.
You taking driving lessons, man?
Let me tell you something.
This is a very good school, you see.
Excellent teachers.
So far, I've only had two crashes.
Yes, madam.
Oh, excuse me, madam, slight emergency.
I'll call you back.
Oh, good afternoon, sir.
Ken Kingscombe, at your service.
Now, sir, if you will
just fill in this form,
I will arrange for your first free lesson.
Now, were you planning
a course of 12 or 24?
Well, I thought I'd just
have the free lesson first
to see how I get on.
I see.
Yes, well, would you put
your name and address here
and just sign it at the bottom?
Ah, good, good.
Now, if you'll just excuse me, sir,
I'll see if the CDI can
take you right away.
The CD what?
The CDI, the chief driving instructor.
I should like him personally
to handle your initial run.
I can't think what's happened
to your instructor, Mr. Constantine.
Perhaps he's had another crash, huh?
Oh, very amusing.
Ah, there's a tight-fisted Scot outside,
only wants a free one.
Now, if you butter him up a bit,
you might squeeze six out of him.
Huh, you're in a bad way, Basil.
Nerve not going, is it?
No, I'll be all right.
Ah, good man.
Good, good.
Now, then, Mr. Troon, this
is our CDI, Major Wentworth.
- How do you do?
- How do you do?
The CDI is a very excellent
motor teacher, you know.
He gave me my first 20 lessons.
Follow me, Mr. Groom.
Just one word of warning before we start.
Oh, yes?
Some people seem to develop
a sort of power complex
when they get behind a steering wheel.
Go on.
Oh, yes, they get selfish, arrogant,
intolerant to criticism, even
from their own instructors.
Oh, I know the type.
I sincerely hope that you
will not be one of those.
Oh, you don't have to
worry about that, Major.
Intolerant of criticism.
Dual controls, eh?
Just in case.
Well, let's run through
the controls, shall we?
Aye, it's just as well if you tell me
which is the brake and
which is the gear lever.
You're not serious?
Well, this is the gear lever
and that's the accelerator.
Hey, man, what is this, another crash?
Look.
Three: Look in the mirror.
Now, why do we do that?
To make sure that the
road is clear behind.
Well done.
Five: Make the appropriate hand signal.
Like this?
Of all the brainless,
four-eyed, dim-witted twerps,
you take the whole bleeding cake!
Go and get...
Yeah, well, that's another golden rule.
Anybody who shouts at
you like that, keep calm.
Well, come on, then, what are you...
I'm sorry. Go on.
Five: Put your clutch
out and engage the gear.
- Yeah.
- Six: Release your handbrake.
Uh-huh.
Seven: Let your clutch in again.
At the same time, gently
depressing the accelerator
and you move smoothly out into the road.
Right?
Well, it's an awful lot to remember,
but I think I can manage it.
Well, let's have a shot
at it, then, shall we?
Yep.
Now, what did we forget?
The bloody handbrake.
Shall we try it again, then?
You put it in the wrong gear!
I know that, you damn fool.
Why didn't you tell me?
I can't be expected to watch everything.
But you should do.
You're supposed to be the
instructor, aren't you?
Shall we try it again?
Aye.
And let's get it right this time.
Man, this sure a great day for crashes.
It's awful easy, isn't it?
Not quite so fast.
I know what I'm doing.
I'm a very good judge
of distance, you see.
You weren't nervous, were you?
Not at all, not at all.
You're exceeding the speed limit.
Well, who's to know?
What's the matter with it?
We're losing power.
Nothing the matter,
I'm applying my brake.
I thought I was supposed
to be driving this car.
You're supposed to be
doing what I tell you.
I would have thought it was obvious
that I had a natural aptitude for driving.
Oh, dear.
I'm getting a bit fed up
with your carping criticism.
Oh, come on, come on.
Make your mind up.
Blasted cyclists.
Come on, get a move on!
Think you own the road?!
Pull into the side, let him pass.
Why should I?
Well, I expect he's in a hurry.
Ha, we're all in a hurry.
Don't you
ever teach your pupils
to give hand signals?!
Now, then, don't you
start picking on my pupil.
He was entirely blameless.
That brainless idiot
was never blameless.
It wasn't my fault!
This old bosom walked
right in front of me!
Don't you dare
speak to me like that!
I quite agree with you, madam.
All you motorists are alike!
Madam, please, let us keep our heads.
Oh!
Oh.
For all she cared, I might
have been blinded for life.
Is the bruise very bad?
I can't see anything, Mr. Troon.
Must be an internal wound.
You worried about your future, Fox?
Good Lord, no, sir.
Well, I am.
You haven't sold a car for three weeks.
What?
Oh, it can't be as long as that.
Oh, yes.
I'll give you a week.
No sales, no job.
Well, there's nothing
to worry about, sir.
I'm pretty confident I can
flog this old sputnik here.
Said that a month ago.
I've got a real sucker this time.
Oh?
And furthermore...
Yeah?
What would you say if I got this firm
the agency for Alba Sports Cars?
- What would I say?
- Yeah.
I'd say, "Well done, partner."
Partner?
In the meantime, you're
still on a week's notice,
don't forget that.
Hey, did you want a
word with me, Freddy?
Oh, yes.
I've just been talking to Ken Kingscombe
up at the driving school.
Oh?
Yes, he thinks you're a born driver.
He reckons if you had a car of your own,
you'd pass the test in a week.
Oh, you're just trying
to kid me into buying this.
What a rotten suggestion.
Anyway, I couldn't, even
if you wanted me to.
Oh?
And why not?
Practically sold her this
afternoon, titled chap.
Tell you what, though, there's a very nice
little saloon car up in the showroom.
I'm not interested in saloons.
What's he offered you for it?
Hm? Offered for what?
Oh, this?
Only 475.
475?
Pounds?
- Mm.
Oh, that's an awful lot of money.
Well, as I always say,
you can't take it with you,
so you might as well drive it there.
Have you accepted his offer?
Yes, of course.
Well, as good as.
Cor, it's a giveaway at that price.
A giveaway.
I've got bills here for 400 pounds
spent on the engine alone.
Look.
Look at these tyres.
Marvellous.
Have you ever seen leatherwork
on a modern sports car like this?
Never.
As Claire Chingers said
the other day,
it's one of the most
beautiful Bentleys ever made.
Aye, she said that to me too.
Hm.
Well, I'd better get
back to the showrooms.
That titled chap is coming in
to settle the deal, seven o'clock.
If I made you an offer
of 500, would you take it?!
What?
I couldn't do a thing like that.
We car salesmen have a
code of honour, you know.
Oh, pity.
Mind you, if it was
somebody I could trust,
somebody who'd love, honour,
and cherish the old girl...
It's no good.
I'm a sentimental old fool.
I've no business in the motor trade.
It's yours for 500 pounds.
Credit or cash?
Oh, cash, naturally.
I'm not paying out interest to
another English moneylender.
Congratulations.
- Oh, I haven't actually...
- What's more,
I guarantee to teach you to drive her.
In next to no time, you'll be
roaring up to Claire's house
like a knight on a white charger.
Oh, a green charger.
Yes, exactly.
Come on, let's go inside
and settle this deal
before I change my mind.
That titled chap, he's gonna be furious.
Silly old fool.
Never looks where he's going.
Doddering old nincompoop.
Bulmer!
Is this thing yours?
No, sir.
I don't own no bicycle.
When I go shopping, I
takes a number 16 bus
from Highfield Road, then I changes over
to a number 23.
- Bulmer.
I do not care where or
how you do your shopping.
Who is the owner of this heap of junk?!
The next time you attempt to
deceive your doting parent
by concealing a bicycle
under a piece of sacking,
be so kind as to arrange that
it does not become entangled
in my rear bumper.
To whom does the bicycle belong?
Ooh, get with it, Daddy,
you know perfectly well it
belongs to Murdoch Troon.
You ran it down with your mower, remember?
And now, I've run it over with my car.
Ooh, lucky williewaught.
You'll have to buy him a new bicycle.
I shall do nothing of the sort.
It would be far more to the point
if he was to remove himself
entirely from the district.
What's he done now?
Not content with being a menace
to the cyclists on the roads,
he's learning to drive a car.
And whoever suggested he should so do
ought to be stood up
against a wall and shot.
Go ahead and shoot.
It was me.
You know, I simply cannot understand
why you encourage this
haggis-headed halfwit.
There are so many other pleasant young men
to go around with.
I'm bored with all the
boys that hang around me.
I'd like Murdoch to take me out.
I think he's a doll.
A doll?
Yes, he has such possibilities,
especially in a kilt.
No, darling, I simply cannot allow you
to go out with that clown.
Claire, where are you going?
I'm going to give him back his bike.
And I'll tell him you ran it over,
so you'd better call your
lawyers just in case.
Check for me, logbook for you.
You're now the proud
owner of The Fast Lady.
More sherry?
Oh.
Thank you very much.
Cheers.
Cheers, Stirling.
Cheers, Jack.
Cheers.
Let's put our cards on the table.
You want Claire Chingers,
I want the agency for Alba Motors.
Yeah, but I don't see the connection.
Claire's old man owns Alba.
Few words from you in
Dad's little ear hole,
Bob's your uncle.
Aye, well, Bob's not
gonna be anybody's uncle.
Mr. Chingford hates the
sight of me and vice versa.
All the more reason
why you need my help.
I don't need help from
anybody, thank you very much.
Here!
Take your hands off that car!
Hi, williewaught, I've brought
back your penny-farthing!
That's about all it's worth now!
Oh, it's Miss Chingford.
What will I do?
What'll I say?
"I don't need any help from
anybody, thank you very much."
All right, I'll make a deal with you.
You help me and I'll help you.
Right, what do I do first?
And hurry.
All right.
Now, go outside and say,
"Claire, you're one of the
loveliest girls I've ever met.
"I don't know why it is, but..."
No, that won't do.
No, say, "Claire, Claire,
"I've got a marvellous surprise for you."
And you'll say, "Yes,
I've taken your advice
"and I've bought The Fast Lady."
And what will she say?
Oh, she'll say, "Bully for
you," or words to that effect.
After that, you've got it laid, made.
Come on, get with it.
Are you sure it will work?
Of course it'll work, but
just to make absolutely sure,
swink, gives a man girl appear.
Hello, Willie.
Oh, hi, Miss Chingford.
Oh, let me.
Thank you.
Oh, dear.
Oh, what a mess.
Never mind.
Claire, I've got a
marvellous surprise for you.
Bully for you.
No, you've said that too soon.
The fact is I've taken your
advice and bought The Fast Lady.
What?!
I don't believe it!
Now, that's when you should
have said "bully for you."
You know, that's not the car for you.
You'll never learn to drive it.
Oh-ho, that's where you're wrong.
I'll have this car
mastered for the weekend.
Take it easy, Superman.
Hold this.
When Murdoch Troon makes up his mind
to do a thing, he does it.
And to prove it, I'd be
honoured if you would come
for a drive with me on Saturday afternoon,
if you don't object to L plates.
In five days?
Well, if you really can
drive it, I'll risk it.
Fine.
I'll pick you up at your place, eh?
Take it easy meanwhile,
I'd hate to see it end up like that.
Oh, that.
Did you get the green light?
Ah, there's only one
small thing, though,
I've got to learn to drive
The First Lady by Saturday.
Saturday?
You out of your tiny Scotch mind?
I've a guarantee, remember?
Now, look, I've got important business
every night this week.
No driving lessons, no deal.
Oh, very well, all right.
My word is my bond, you ask anyone.
Well, almost anyone.
Get in.
These gears are a bit tricky!
Actually, you're rather
rushing things, old man!
Take it easy!
We're not on the circuit, you know!
How much did you say
she could do in third?
70, but you're not in third yet!
We are now.
Take it easy, Murdoch.
Not so fast.
You're only a learner, you know.
Slow down, Murdoch, traffic lights.
Slow down!
Blast, he's got away!
The engine's packed up.
She stalled.
You left her in gear.
Oh, I know!
When was it you were
hoping to take Claire out?
Saturday.
And if you're hoping for
that agency from her old man,
you'd better instruct me a bit better
than you're doing at present.
Don't look now, there's
a gendarme on our tail.
I'll shake him off.
Don't be a berk.
Let him pass.
Oh, all right.
Why doesn't he pass?!
He's going to stick.
Take a side turning and lose him.
Oh, right.
I'll take him by surprise.
What's the matter with them all?
Why won't they stick to
the rules of the road?!
Pull into the side, you
clot, it's a one-way street.
Don't you call me a clot!
You told me to turn into it.
Pull into the side, please!
Call yourself an instructor.
You tell me to do one
thing, then when I do it...
Keep calm for heaven's
sake, here comes the law.
What do you mean, "keep calm"?
I'm the calmest person here.
And which one of you is the learner?
I am.
I'm sorry about this, Inspector.
I'm a qualified driver, of course.
This gentleman's my pupil.
Between you and me, when
he saw you on his tail,
he completely lost his head.
I did nothing of the sort!
I knew perfectly well what I was doing.
You mean you deliberately
went down this one-way street?
Now, don't you put words into my mouth.
If you ask me, you'd better off
chasing bank robbers and sex maniacs
rather than trying to catch
out innocent motorists.
I see.
May I see your driving
licence, please, sir?
Certainly.
Oh.
Pick it up for him.
Oh.
I'm sorry, I...
Well, that makes three offences so far.
Failure to give proper hand signals,
driving down a one-way street,
and assaulting a police officer.
You've been drinking.
I have nothing of the sort!
Well, I've only had one glass of sherry.
Yeah, that's what they all say,
but they don't usually try
to cover it up with perfume.
Now, look here, Officer...
Keep out of this.
Or have you been drinking too?
Certainly not.
I'm a teetotaler.
Yes, well, get in the
driving seat and follow me.
What's the idea?
You'll find out.
This is the police surgeon.
Now, you're sure you don't wish me
to call your own doctor to examine you?
I've told you at least
19 times that I'm not drunk
and I'm not calling out my own
doctor on a wild goose chase!
Very well, carry on, Doctor.
I'll be outside the door if you need me.
Name?
Murdoch Troon.
Name?
Murdoch Troon.
When did you last take food or drink?
I had lunch at midday.
Shepherds pie, boiled potatoes,
green peas, and red cabbage,
followed by a suet roll with
treacle and white coffee.
The price was five shillings,
and I paid for it with a lunch voucher.
And you still feel well?
Perfectly.
What is the day of the
week and the time of the day?
If it's of any importance,
it's the 23rd of June.
Hm.
And according to that clock on the wall,
it's about 2:15, but according
to my watch, it's 8:55.
Add up these numbers: seven, six, 14.
Quite correct, all right, stand up.
You've been drinking whiskey.
I've only had three.
What's it go to do with you?
Say, "The Leith Police dismisseth us."
The Leith Police dismiss...
The Leith Police dis...
Look here, I'm asking the questions.
Now, I want you to put your
arms down at your side,
close your eyes, and touch
the end of your nose.
You do it first.
Oh, very well.
There you are, see?
It's quite simple.
Anything else?
Yes.
I want you to walk in a straight line
along the edge of this carpet, so...
Anything else?
Sergeant!
This man is as sober as I am.
Goodnight.
Thank you, Doctor.
Now, if you have not
objection, I'll be on my way.
Oh, no, you won't.
There's that little matter of
assaulting a police officer
in the execution of his duty.
Yeah, but that was an accident.
You can tell that to the chairman
of the bench tomorrow morning.
Call Murdoch Troon and Frederick Fox!
Now, there's nothing to worry about.
Look the old beak straight in the eye,
tell him the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth.
And British justice will do the rest.
Present, Your Worship.
Murdoch Troon, do you
plead guilty or not guilty?
If the police constable
hadn't adopted an aggressive manner...
Plead guilty, be nice to him.
Do you plead
guilty or not guilty?
Oh, for heaven's sake,
man, I'm trying to tell you,
of all the impertinent,
the unreasonable,
the impossible constables that...
Do you plead guilty or not guilty?
Guilty.
Me too.
Definitely guilty.
You will be fined 25 guineas
and three guineas costs.
25 guineas!
Ha, you call this English
justice, you old goat?!
Oh!
And a further 25 guineas
for contempt of court.
Thank you very much, Your Worship.
As for you, Fox, your responsibility
as driving instructor being
correspondingly greater,
you will be fined 30 guineas
and pay three guineas costs.
Thank you, sir, I absolutely deserve it.
Your sandwiches and hot tea, love.
Thank you, Mrs. S.
Doing your accounts again?
Aye, being an owner
driver's more expensive
than I anticipated.
Road tax, 15 pounds; insurance, 39 pounds;
secondhand motoring kit, six pounds;
legal proceedings, 55
pounds, 13, and eightpence.
You poor thing.
Oh, and that's not all.
I've only had the car two days
and I've used 25 gallons of petrol.
I expect it's sprung a leak.
Anyway, you can't say I didn't warn you.
Anything to do with Mr.
Fox is sure to cause...
Sure to cause what, Mrs. S?
Trouble, Mr. F.
Well, there's gratitude for you.
Here I am giving up a
smashing party in Chiswick
to go out onto a cold and windy airfield
to make Murdoch into a
budding Grand Prix winner,
and all you can say is I cause trouble.
Really, sometimes, life
is hardly worth living.
If you ask me, Mr. Troon
would be far better off
in bed with his cocoa.
Oh? Who's this Cocoa?
Oh, yes, of course, I see what you mean.
Right, now, let's try the next one.
Lesson four: A three-point
turn in a narrow road.
This is the road here,
between these oil drums.
Now, remember, you've
got to get round in three
without actually touching...
- I know, I know.
Don't make such a fuss
about a simple turn.
I did it in two!
Ah, ah, ah!
Oh, you don't have to worry about this.
I could back into there
with my eyes closed.
Now, just do a normal
reverse into the garage
and imagine this is your own.
Anchors away!
It's just as well
you haven't got a garage!
I think I'm getting the idea!
No, you've got no control!
Always turn into the skid and
then just touch your brakes.
Well, that's what I was doing!
Well, let me try again.
No, jump out, please.
You've got no idea.
I'll show you how it should be done.
Hold my apple, will you?
Shake him.
You know, for a moment there,
I thought you'd lost control.
You know, Maya,
you're one of the loveliest
girls I've ever met.
I don't know why it is, you know,
I've always been mad about brunettes,
especially when they turn up unexpectedly.
You thought I'd got another
girl here, didn't you, hm?
Yes, Freddy, darling.
Naughty, naughty.
You should know by now,
Freddy Fox is a one-girl man.
What are you stopping for, Murdoch?!
I was soaking wet, freezing cold,
and it's way past my bedtime!
We must endure these hardships!
Another 24 laps, if you please.
24 laps should be enough,
shouldn't it, Maya, baby?
Three o'clock, Daddy.
Aren't you gonna play golf?
Cancelled it, my dear,
more important things to do.
Oh, you know you always
play golf on Saturdays.
And you know the exercise is good for you.
Besides, you're getting a terrific pot.
I never do anything that's good for me.
Furthermore, I have no
intention of entering
any beauty competitions.
Oh!
Oh, there's money there, all right.
Now, don't forget what I told you.
Keep to the side roads.
Give her tea in Guildford
and take her to Frensham
when it starts to get dark.
It's all marked here on the map.
You're absolutely sure
it is a quiet place?
Quiet?
You can even hear the
butterflies take off.
Just the place for the
old passion stakes, eh?
She's not that sort of a girl.
Pity.
Well, I hope mine is.
Well, she's bound to expect a bit
of the old synchromeshing, surely?
Well, kiss or two, anyway, eh?
And when does the great lover
expect me to start all this?
When the old moon comes out,
the old nightingales begin to warble.
Look into her eyes, breathe
hotly down her neck,
and then let Mother
Nature take its course.
There's nothing coarser
than Mother Nature.
Good luck.
And if you get any time in
between the old gear changes,
you know, put in a good
word for Freddy Fox.
Move over, Grunhilde, baby.
Dreamboat's firing on all cylinders.
Come on.
I'm sorry, Miss Chingford.
My foot slipped.
But I don't know what's
happened to your gardener.
Oh, he gets in everybody's way.
Oh, thank goodness, I
think he's all right.
Wow.
Oh, well, I felt it
was a special occasion.
You know, you look fabulous!
Oh, look out.
This is the fourth
occasion on which we've met.
I intend it to be the last.
Take this car off my lawn.
And, anyway, you've no
right to be driving it
without a qualified driver by your side.
I've only been left at the...
This is private property,
and, anyway, I'm a qualified driver.
and there's really nothing
you can do about it.
Oh, yes, there is.
He happens to be the worst driver
that has ever been my
misfortune to encounter.
It might interest you to know
that Murdoch learned to drive
this car in less than a week.
I think he's marvellous.
Red Label?
Yeah, believed winner at Le Mans.
Nobody could learn to
drive in a week in this car.
Murdoch did.
You keep out of this.
I'll have you know, young man,
that I'm a veteran motorist
of 40 years standing.
I've raced this type of car
both at Brooklands and Le Mans.
If you can convince me that
you can handle this car,
even passably, I may allow you to take
my daughter out this afternoon.
Challenge accepted.
Very good.
Don't worry, Claire, I'll show him.
You bring him down a peg or two!
Good luck, darling!
Which way?
It takes me exactly 42 minutes
to reach Wilmington Golf Course from here.
A novice should be able to do it in 55.
That way.
Right.
Shall we synchronise our watches?
Don't be infantile, boy.
There's a clock on the dashboard.
Oh, so there is.
Oh, my back tire's gone.
You have exactly 54
and a half minutes left.
You don't mean you're
gonna charge me time
for changing my wheel?
Why not?
The good motorist sees to it
that his car is, in all
respects, ready for the road
and in perfect condition.
Oh.
As we're on a hill,
I presume you have chocked
up the other rear wheel?
Where the hell does it go?
Why don't you see if it's
got a left-hand thread?
You'll save yourself a lot of time.
My wheel!
Somebody's stolen my wheel!
It went that way.
What do you
think you're playing at,
you stupid idiot?!
The man's a maniac!
I'm gonna do something about this!
Well, it's done.
You have 35 minutes left.
Something's gone wrong with the engine.
I should have thought it
would have been obvious,
even for a novice, that a
car cannot move forwards
unless both rear wheels are
in contact with the ground.
28 minutes left.
Come on, come on!
Don't you blow your horn
at me, you bloody roadhog!
Can't you see I'm stuck?!
Well, push that thing to the side!
Get your friends to help you!
What?!
With an 80-year-old mother,
a wife who's expecting,
and three little kids?!
It's people like you who started the war!
I'm not gonna stand
for that, you big bully!
How much time left?!
15 minutes!
Well, we're doing over 90,
so I think I can safely
say that we'll make it.
As we've been going
in the wrong direction
for the last three miles, I
think that's very unlikely.
But why didn't you tell me?!
A good motorist travels at a speed
at which he can see the signposts.
Something's gone wrong.
You've run out of petrol.
Oh, blast!
We'll have to push it to
the nearest petrol station.
We?
22 gallons, please.
Yes, sir.
How much time left?
Two minutes, and as we
still have six miles to go,
I think we can take it that you have lost.
Your driving is deplorable,
your road sense is execrable,
and your mechanical
knowledge, nonexistent.
I doubt if even a woman could drive worse.
If you think you're so marvellous,
how about you driving me back
in, shall we say, 35 minutes?
Certainly.
And if you don't make it,
I can take Claire out as arranged?
I shall be delighted to
give you a demonstration
of how a car like this should be driven.
And, shall we say, 30 minutes?
I presume you won't mind
if I take a shortcut?!
Do what you like, it's your 30 minutes!
What's the matter?!
I want to go that way!
Will all competitors
please make sure you have reported
to the scrutineers office?
- Blast!
A good motorist knows when
a hill climb is taking place.
The next group
of cars will be starting
the hill climb in about 15 minutes time.
Will you all make sure that you are ready?
Number six is putting
up a wonderful show,
but he just doesn't have the speed.
He's trying very hard.
Perhaps he'll make it.
Oh, no. Bad luck.
Number six, five points only.
Now, let's see what
Ken Longhurst and his...
There is a novice.
Went fast when he should have
gone slow, and vice versa.
I suppose you could have done it better.
I could, and I will.
Bounce!
Go on, faster!
Child's play!
Now, we'll take another shortcut.
Look what you've done!
You've ruined my car!
Nonsense.
These cars will stand up to anything.
Whole point is it's going to take you
a good hour to get out of here.
Me?
Are you not gonna help?
Why should I?
I'm in no hurry.
It's you that's taking out my daughter.
You mean that I've won?
Unfortunately, yes.
I never go back on a bet.
Well, it's nice of you to turn up!
You're only three hours late.
Had a smashing afternoon
watching "Noddy" on TV.
No, no, it's all
right, Claire, I've won!
And your father was a very
good sport about it too.
Well, if you're still
thinking of taking me out,
you can take that smug smile off your face
and go and wash it,
and your knees.
My knees?
Oh, I see what you mean.
Well, I'll just, yes.
Oh, could you tell me where
the little boys' room is, sir?
In the hall, first on the right.
Oh, first on the right.
You're not seriously
still considering going out
with that knobbly-kneed
Scottish nationalist, are you?
Yes.
And he's not got knobbly knees.
Actually, they've got dimples on them.
If you must know, I think
he's got terrific guts
and, I don't know, he's just different.
He has no road sense,
no mechanical knowledge, and no money.
I don't care about that.
By no stretch of the imagination
could he be considered good-looking.
And he lacks charm to a remarkable degree.
Not to me, he doesn't.
Darling, you know I'm
only thinking about you.
You're all I've got left.
And I don't want to see you
making a fool of yourself.
I won't.
Well, if you insist.
But I suggest that
you're back by midnight.
Oh, you're a darling!
Oh, sorry.
Sorry.
He's making no progress at all.
He hasn't got a clue.
Perhaps his old chemicals
aren't going zoom, zoom, zoom.
What's that?
Noises off, Grunhilde, baby.
Now, keep very still, absolutely still.
All right?
It should be filled with water, really.
But, I suppose, gin will do.
Well, get on with it, we
have been hanging around
for hours doing nothing.
We'll rectify that.
If you should hear a nightingale
calling soulfully to its mate,
don't get too excited, it's only me.
Excuse me.
Oh! Ooh.
Do you have to do all this?
Grunhilde, my fascinating
little Fraulein,
you want to wear mink, don't you?
Do you agree with your father
that I lack charm to a remarkable degree?
No, of course not.
Otherwise, I wouldn't be here.
Oh, that's very true.
Well, here goes.
Oh, listen, a nightingale.
Oh, aye.
There's nothing like
sounds of Mother Nature.
And you agree that by no
stretch of the imagination
could I be called good-looking?
Stop fishing for
compliments and kiss me.
Kiss you?
Oh, that's better.
Who said Scotsmen are cold?
Well, wasn't it Robbie Burns?
I won't need the nightingales.
What?
I'm not much good
at foreign lingoes.
But not to worry, I'll get
by in the Common Market.
Kiss me,.
Kiss me.
When are we going swimming?
Anytime you say, baby.
What say we skip convention
and risk it in the old all together, eh?
What is the "old all together"?
Ya?
All right, then.
Nein.
Darling, what are you doing?
My foot's
caught in the gear lever.
Ooh, come on.
Feel as if I were floating on air.
What time is it, darling?
It's early, it's early, it's early.
Quiet, boy, quiet.
Oh, we're standing in water.
How on Earth did we get here?
We must have rolled down the hill.
Oh, what are we gonna do?
We'll have to get out and push.
One, two, three, push!
Oh!
Ah, good evening, sir.
Good evening.
Water in the carburetor.
It couldn't be helped.
Go to your room.
Anything you say, Putsy.
Goodnight, williewaught, my darling.
It wasn't his fault.
He's a beautiful driver.
Did you?
No, I didn't.
And I hope you noticed what
she said about my driving.
Only a woman blinded by infatuation
could be guilty of such self-deception.
It might interest you
to know that I intend
to take my driving test immediately.
And what's more, I'll
bet you anything you like
I pass it first go.
Done.
And if you fail, will
you give me your word
never to see my daughter again?
What about if I pass?
The chances of that
happening are so remote
that I will willingly
let you take her out
whenever you so wish.
And let him marry her?
Mind your own business.
And kindly remove your
car, your fancy woman,
and yourself from my property.
Road junction, footpath, traffic lights.
Road junction, footpath, traffic lights.
Hey, what's the idea?
Why has he got two eggs
when I've only got one?
You are not taking a driving test today.
He needs building up.
Now, you're not to get yourself
into a state, Mr. Troon.
Quite right, there's
no cause to get nervous.
Everything's fixed.
I spoke to that pal of mine
whose cousin is one of the examiners.
I don't need any help from anyone
to pass my test, thank you.
I dare say.
With so much at stake,
we don't want to take any chances, do we?
Well, as long as it's all above board.
Well, of course it is.
Mind you, it'll cost you a
bottle of scotch for my pal,
but that's a small price to
pay for the woman you love.
Now, here's the drill.
When I drop you there,
wait in the waiting room
till a chap comes along
with a large moustache.
You know, one of those big,
bushy, war surplus jobs.
He's your man.
So get up and wink at him.
Wink at him, eh?
Oh!
My finger!
Mrs. Staggers!
Look, my finger.
Oh, you poor thing.
There it is.
Will you be here when I come back?
Rather.
Planning a sort of surprise.
Welcome committee for the
conquering hero and all that jazz.
"England expects this day,
every Scotsman to do his duty."
Ah, that's my boy.
Hey.
Youse a pupil from the very fine
Kingscombe School of Motoring, ain't you?
- Oh, yes, hello.
- We meet before, sir.
Yes, that's right.
Your first test?
My seventh.
Very strict here, you know.
And what do you think, don't like crashes.
Is that why they failed you?
Mm, but only on two occasions.
Last time, they fail me
for a most trifling matter.
Oh?
What was that?
Lighting cigar.
Apparently, not permissible
while overtaking bus.
Oh, well, that's one thing I won't do.
Miss Oldham, do come this way, please.
You know, I was hoping to
get the squadron leader myself.
Very keen talker on cricket, that man.
He was the one I had the
crashes with, remember?
Still, as long as I don't get Mr. Bodley.
What, why? Who's he?
An outstandingly disagreeable
person is that man.
Don't like cricket, don't like calypsos.
Ha, he don't like nothing.
Morning, Mr. Bodley.
Very fine day, sir, with
excellent sun for taking test.
Mr. Murdoch Troon, please.
Man, this is my lucky day.
Which is your car?
Did you drive it here yourself?
Aye.
And where is the qualified
driver who accompanied you?
Well, he's gone off now.
He should have remained
in the car until I arrived.
Very well, carry on.
Sorry.
If I make any mistakes
with my gear changing,
it's because I had a wee bit
of an accident this morning.
Do you wish to cancel your test?
Oh, no, no.
It's nothing at all, really, it's...
Then why mention it?
Proceed.
Cannot get...
Forgot to switch on.
Will I continue down the High Street?
I'll tell you what to
do and when to do it.
Thank you very much.
Pull into the side of
the road, if you please.
Oh, have you been taken
sh, oh, the side, yes.
Certainly, sir.
Yes, he's taking the test now.
I thought it would be a splendid idea
if you were to come over,
give him a bit of a
cheer when he gets back.
Oh, and why not bring your
delightful father along too?
Well, I'll do my best.
But listen, Freddy, are
you sure he'll pass?
I thought they failed
everybody the first time.
Not when the tester's
a pal of Freddy Fox.
Before I get you to start up again,
I should like to ask you
one or two questions.
Oh, this is where you're,
oh, I've been looking forward to this.
I think I can safely say that I know
the Highway Code backwards.
Frontwards is quite sufficient.
Perhaps you'll be good enough to enumerate
six of the eight occasions
on which you do not overtake another car.
Let me see now.
One, at a pedestrian crossing.
Two, at a road junction.
Three, a humpbacked bridge.
Four, a pedestrian crossing.
You've already said that.
Oh, did I?
Oh, well, four is a corner.
Five, humpbacked...
We've had that one too.
Yes.
Five...
Oh, I know.
Where the road narrows,
and that's the sixth.
On the contrary, it's only five.
Oh, oh, yes, I, sorry.
I forgot.
On the brow of a hill.
Ask me another.
Now, let's see you
start up again on a hill.
Supposing a heavily-laden lorry
were to come over the brow
of the hill at high speed,
what would you do?
Let me see now.
What would I do?
Well, the important thing
would be to keep my head.
Take that filthy weed out of your mouth
when you're talking to me.
You're absolutely right, sir.
Filthy muck.
You and my daughter have lured me here
by means of a trick.
Thereby caused me to miss a
most important engagement.
The only reason I'm staying
is in order to have the
satisfaction of learning
that Troon has failed his driving test.
Oh, look, there they are.
He's got the wrong examiner!
Stop!
Follow that car.
- Who, me?
- Yes, you, and step on it.
Don't worry about the speed limit.
- But, Officer, he...
- Will you shut up?!
Get on with it.
Oh!
We'll need your help, sir!
Reverse!
- Come on, we're going too!
Right. Go on.
Don't bother about
hand signals, step on it!
Well, what about the Highway Code?!
Oh, to hell with the Highway Code!
Right!
I'm coming down.
What did you say?
- Don't!
- Right!
Can't you go any faster?
If this idiot learner would stop swaying
all over the road, I could pass him.
You mean you would if you
could drive as well as he does.
Ooh.
Oh, no, no, please don't
overtake on a humpback bridge!
Odd.
Bloody odd.
Fore!
Williewaught!
My hero!
Fabulous, Murdoch!
You were a credit to me!
No examiner in his right mind
could possibly fail
him now, could he, sir?
Well?
Come along, man.
Far as I'm concerned, he
is disqualified for life!
Disqualified?
Well, that's that, then.
Goodbye, Claire.
Goodbye, Mr. Chingford.
But, Murdoch, you can't go...
No, no, Claire.
I lost my bet with your father,
and a Troon never goes back on a bet.
Putsy!
Just a moment, young man.
I decide who has won the bet.
As a matter of fact, I very much doubt
if I could have handled The
First Lady better myself.
You're dead right, sir.
And just because this regulation-ridden,
form-filling, pen-pushing nincompoop
is unable to recognise a
good driver when he sees one,
you may now go out with
Murdoch whenever you wish.
Putsy.
Oh.
And may I ask him to marry me?
Certainly.
And if he says no, just come and tell me.
And from now on,
I'm gonna do the driving.
- Thanks!
You've forgotten to put
the handbrake off, darling!
And when we get to the main road,
don't forget to give
the correct hand signal.
That's enough of that, williewaught.
Goodbye!
Have a good time!
Ah.
Oh, excuse me, sir!
Are you going back?
I am, alone.
Bearded nit.
Could you give me a lift?
Jump in.
Oh, thank you very much.
It's very kind of you.
I got stranded.
If I may say so,
you're one of the loveliest
girls I've ever met.
I don't know why it is, but
I've always been mad about...
Oh, you stupid old buzzard, you!
Oh!
Mr. Troon?!
Whoa!
Gert!
The Hon.
Sec.'s dead!
Ooh, just look at all the blood!
Blood?!
Where?!
Oh!
Send for a doctor!
Get an ambulance!
Oh, Mr. Troon, you
poor man, you badly hurt?
Fairly badly, Miss
Timpkins, but I'll manage.
Oh.
Shan't be a moment, Jackie, baby.
You want me to look
with it, don't you, eh?
Oh, you sexy beast.
Oh, I like a little
bit better than a lot
And a lot better than
a little bit of it
Oh, will you be late
tonight, Mr. Fox, as usual?
Shouldn't be at all surprised, Mrs. S.
Going to an orgy in Golders Green.
Don't wait up.
I've no intention of doing so.
Kindly do not forget to bolt the door.
And I'll thank you not
to make as much noise
as you did last night.
Ah, yes, well, I won't
bring her in tonight,
I'll deal with her outside.
And, Mr. Fox, I haven't
had last week's rent yet.
Yes, well, things are a bit dicky
in the car trade at the moment.
But not to worry, Mrs. S.
Come on, give us a wee kiss.
Come on, Freddy!
My sister.
Why don't you turn that game in?
I refuse to be driven off
the roads by you motorists.
Buy yourself a decent car.
Get yourself a girl.
This one's for sale.
Possibly a bit on the fast side,
but she's on very modern lines.
Smashing upholstery.
She's a real bargain.
What a suggestion.
Other sales points
include an ample rear boot,
loose covers, and automatic clutch,
leaving plenty of room
for fancy knee work.
Dirty beast.
Oh, you poor thing.
You've hurt your leg.
Ooh, aye.
Who was that?
Hm, oh, that's our fellow lodger.
Works for the town council.
Fancy a ride on his handlebars?
No thanks.
He can ring his own bell.
Oh.
You know, Jackie,
you're one of the loveliest
girls I've ever met.
I don't know why it is,
but I've always been mad about redheads.
And do you mean to
say he didn't even stop?
He did not!
For all he cared, I might
have been splattered
all over the road.
Oh, you poor thing.
Anyway, it's not bleeding.
What?
'Tis so.
Oh, then we must put some iodine on it.
I hope you're not going to
let him get away with it.
Oh, certainly not.
I'll trace him through his number.
I don't work in the council
offices for nothing.
And then you'll make
him buy you a new bicycle?
Aye, and a new plastic picnic pack.
Bulmer!
Now what does he want?
Don't let it happen again.
Ferncliff.
Ferncliff.
Where is the blasted place?
Don't you bloody cyclists
ever give hand signals?!
Away, and learn to drive!
Oh, no.
Bulmer!
Lose it, Bulmer!
Is it your contraption?
Aye, it was.
Look at the hole you've made in my lawn!
Look what you've done to my roadster.
And, if I'm not mistaken,
this is the second time
you've buckled one of my wheels.
I have never set eyes
on you in my life before!
Ooh.
This house is called Ferncliff?
It is.
And your name is Chingford?
Commander Chingford.
Quite.
And I'd be right in assuming
that you are the owner
of car 200 DY0?
What is all this about?
I happen to be the cyclist
you tried to murder last Sunday afternoon.
I don't know what you're moaning about.
But since I only see only the backsides
of cyclists when I'm driving,
I can hardly be expected
to recognise their faces.
I've got 22 witnesses
and unless you're prepared
to settle this account,
I intend to summons you for contravening
the Motor Vehicles and Road
Traffic Acts of 1930 and 1934.
There's the bill.
- Don't you quote
the Road Traffic Act at me!
I remember the incident perfectly.
You deliberately obstructed me.
That's not what my
22 witnesses will say.
I have no intention of affording
your fellow pedal-pushers
the pleasure of committing
perjury at my expense.
This is blackmail.
I shall consult my lawyers.
Follow me.
Good for you!
The old man's always
bossing people around.
Aye, but I don't like
the sound of those lawyers.
Don't you worry.
They'll make him pay up.
They always do.
I'm Claire Chingford.
Come and have a drink.
Well, I wouldn't say no
on a hot day like this, Miss Chingford.
My name's Troon.
Murdoch Troon.
Are you Scotch?
Scottish, yes.
You have a kilt?
Well, as a matter of fact, I do.
And do you ever wear it?
Well, not as much down
here among the Sassenach,
except on extra special
occasions, of course.
Tell me, do you wear
anything underneath?
I most certainly do.
Come on.
Not there, not on my prize Sam McCready!
Blithering idiot.
No, of course I wasn't talking to you.
Don't be such a fool.
Help yourself!
Oh, thanks.
Thank you.
Well, here it comes.
Down Sauchiehall Street,
or whatever you say on these occasions.
My, that's an awfully
powerful fruit cup, isn't it?
Well, hardly a fruit cup.
It's a mixture of vodka and curacao,
usually taken in smaller glasses.
But, of course, you being a Scot...
Ah, Miss Chingford, a
right good williewaught
never did a Scot any harm.
Willie who?
Williewaught.
"Here's a hand my trusty
fiere and gie's a hand o'thine
"and we'll tak a right guid williewaught
"for auld lang syne.
"We twa hae run about the
braes and pu'd to gowans fine,
"but we've wandered mony a
weary foot sin auld lang syne."
Miss Chingford, may I
replenish your glass?
To save trouble, and as your
account comes to four pounds,
17, and sixpence, here's a fiver.
And kindly stop quoting
Burns to my daughter.
Aye, what
about that front wheel
that got broken this afternoon?
As you haven't 22 witnesses,
you won't be able to blackmail
me into paying for that!
And now, get off my property!
Murdoch can't go yet,
he hasn't finished his williewaught.
Do you think we'd better?
Go on.
- Sure it'll be all right?
- Go on.
Don't worry.
Down Sauchiehall Street.
"And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp
"and surely I'll be mine,
"and we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet
"for auld lang syne."
Goodbye, Miss Chingford.
It's been a rare privilege and
a great pleasure knowing you.
Oh!
Clumsy oaf!
Now look what he's done!
Murdoch, are you all right?
Perfectly all right,
thank you, Miss Chingford.
Oh.
Oh, we can't let him go like
that, he's hurt himself.
Good!
Murdoch, how far have you got to go?
Only six miles.
Oh, leave that thing here.
I'll give you a lift.
Oh, no, it's not necessary.
Besides, what would your father say?
Oh, who cares.
You can collect your
penny-farthing anytime.
Come on, get in.
Well, all right.
I'm sorry, Miss Chingford.
Those williewaughts must have
been stronger than I thought.
You must take my advice next time.
I will.
Next time?
What do you do about your girlfriends?
Well, frankly, I haven't
got one at the moment.
I'm not surprised.
Surely, a chap like you should have a car?
Aye, I've sometimes thought
that the assistant to the town clerk
should have a wee saloon
like this, you know.
Why not a sports car?
You like the fresh air.
Do you like sports cars, then?
Oh, I'm mad about them.
But the great dictator
won't let me have one.
And I like the men who drive them.
Do you?
Yes, I do, you silly old williewaught.
Press it again.
I'd like that on my bike.
Thank you very much, Miss Chingford.
Oh, are you getting out?
Oh, I'd like
to go for a ride in it.
Where's the handle?
I'm really very much obliged.
That's all right.
Whew, whose is this?!
Oh, Freddy Fox's, I expect.
He's in the car business.
He brings a different
car home every night.
Oh, marvellous.
Absolutely fabulous.
Red Label Bentley, late '27, three litre,
short chassis speed
model with long stroke,
four-cylinder engine,
fitted with twin slopers,
and single overhead camshaft.
You sure know an awful
lot about cars, don't you?
Oh, I'm mad about them.
Oh, it's called The Fast Lady.
Is this the sort of car
you had in mind for me?
Well, hardly.
You have to be really with it
to handle one of these things.
No, what I mean to say is
it's the last thing to have
if you haven't learned to drive.
Mind you, I'd adore to have it myself.
Hello.
Aren't you going to
introduce us, lover boy?
Oh, certainly.
Miss Chingford, this is Mr. Fox.
How do you do?
How about a buzz around
the houses, Miss Chingford?
The old girl goes like a bomb.
Finest car in our showrooms.
Well, it'll have to be quick.
Dinner's at eight.
I'll have you back
before the table's laid.
Don't bother to wait, lover boy.
If I must say so, Miss Chingers,
you're one of the loveliest
girls I've ever met.
I don't know why it is,
but I've always been mad about blondes.
Change down, brother.
I'm not kidding.
The moment I first saw you, the
old chemicals began to work.
Zoom, zoom, zoom!
Chemicals?
The old love glands, you know.
When I chap looks across a crowded room,
sees a beautiful stranger,
they all start to bubble up
and say, "This is it, Freddy.
"This is the real thing."
Your chemicals saying anything to you, eh?
Your mixture's too rich.
That's a pity, mm.
Well, in that case,
perhaps I might interest
you in a buying this car?
Ah, you certainly could, if
you could interest my father.
But as he owns Alba Motors,
I don't think that'll be very easy.
Alba Motors?
What, the sports car people?
Ah, that's interesting.
You don't suppose you
could get your father
to give me the agency for
Alba in this area, do you?
I don't think so.
You're not his type, either.
That's funny.
Mr. Troon, your supper's ready.
Come along.
Oh, you poor thing.
You've been in the wars again.
Eh?
Oh, aye, aye.
Did you enjoy your ride, Miss Chingford?
Super car.
Bye-bye, Freddy.
Bye, Claire!
Hello, darling.
You can collect your bike
anytime you like, williewaught,
but preferably when Daddy's out.
He usually plays golf
on Saturday afternoons.
What's all this Claire
and Freddy business?
Well, don't be a square, you square.
You can't go on calling a girl like that
"Miss Chingford" forever, can you?
Why, have you got your headlamps on her?
Oh, don't be ridiculous.
Ooh, I just wondered.
Between you and me, old man,
I think she's got a bit of a shine on you.
Oh, man, don't be silly.
Well...
Did she say something about me, then?
Rather, she never
stopped talking about you.
She seemed rather keen on
you buying The Fast Lady.
Don't know why.
- Did she?
Yeah.
Oh, don't think I'm
gonna fall for that one.
Besides, I can't even drive.
Oh, you poor thing.
Come in.
There, I thought you'd like
a nice glass of hot milk.
Oh, thank you very much, Mrs. Staggers.
Counting your money, Mr. Troon?
Aye, I'm not doing so badly, Mrs. S.
You wouldn't be thinking of
getting married, would you?
Married?
Oh, no.
Don't think that marriage
isn't on my agenda, Mrs. S,
but, well, it's not the sort of thing
a sensible chap rushes into, you know.
Quite right, Mr. Troon.
Don't you be hasty.
Sleep tight.
Oh, it's because those green
hills are not highland hills
Or the island hills
They're not my land's hills
And fair as these green
foreign hills may be
They are not the hills of home
Did you want something?
As you've bust your bike,
I wondered if you'd like a
lift to work tomorrow morning?
Oh, that's very kind of you.
It's a pleasure.
Pleasure.
I thought we could, I thought we...
Do we have to have that
ghastly programme on?
Aye, we do, and it's not ghastly.
It's the best programme
on English television.
Oh.
What's all this about a lift, anyway?
Well, I thought we could drop in
at the country hall and get a licence.
Why, are you getting married?
No, not that sort of licence.
I mean a provisional driving licence.
Then you could take your first
driving lesson tomorrow night.
Is it very expensive to learn to drive?
Now, if you went to Kingscombe
School in Pepper Road,
the first lesson is free.
Is that so?
Mm.
Pepper Road, eh?
Well, I'll think about it.
Yeah, you do that.
Chap with your knowhow shouldn't
need more than one lesson.
Cheery-bye.
Don't overwork your bagpipes, will you?
Get
yourself a sports car.
Do
you like sports cars, then?
I like
the men who drive them,
you old williewaught.
65 laps completed, three to go,
on the 2.9-mile circuit
here at Silverstone,
and this critical race for
this year's World Championship
has developed into a titanic struggle
between John Surtees, Graham Hill,
and the brilliant young Scottish
newcomer, Murdoch Troon.
This Troon is displaying
tremendous courage and determination
because with the peculiar
suspension on his car,
he must realise that his
tyres are shot to ribbons,
but with only two laps to
go now, he's not letting up.
He's staying right in there
and fighting it out with the masters.
And now, as they come
down into Woodcoate Corner
for the last time, it's
Surtees, Hill, and Troon,
and I don't think there's
anything Troon can do about it.
But he's closing up on Graham Hill
on the braking distance,
and he's taking him on the inside,
and he's coming past Hill,
and this isn't possible,
but he's coming alongside Surtees,
and he's getting past
Surtees, and he's done it,
and Troon wins by inches.
What a brilliant victory
for this young Scotsman.
But now, the car
suddenly swings across the road.
He's lost it and he's over,
the car's turned over.
I don't know what it was.
I should think it must
have been a tyre burst
at over 120 miles an hour.
But we'll send John
Bolster down to investigate
just as soon as possible.
Governor!
Governor, are you all right?!
Speak to me, Governor!
Speak to me!
I'm all right, Jack.
Any last words, Troon?
I'm glad that I won for Scotland.
Well, we were lucky to hear the words
of a very gallant gentleman.
Governor.
Make way, please.
Make way.
Make way, now.
Is he gonna be all right, Doc?
I shall have to operate at once.
Pass me me saw.
I don't need an anaesthetic, Doc.
Just give me a wee williewaught.
Murdoch, darling.
Half
past seven, Mr. Troon.
Oh, darling.
Mr. Troon!
Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Staggers.
I was having a lovely dream.
It's not like you to have
those sort of dreams, Mr. Troon.
You'd be better off having a cold bath.
Yes, madam, I've fixed
your test at Broadley Heath.
Yes.
Excuse me a moment, madam.
Would you mind taking a seat, sir?
Thank you.
Now, listen.
You taking driving lessons, man?
Let me tell you something.
This is a very good school, you see.
Excellent teachers.
So far, I've only had two crashes.
Yes, madam.
Oh, excuse me, madam, slight emergency.
I'll call you back.
Oh, good afternoon, sir.
Ken Kingscombe, at your service.
Now, sir, if you will
just fill in this form,
I will arrange for your first free lesson.
Now, were you planning
a course of 12 or 24?
Well, I thought I'd just
have the free lesson first
to see how I get on.
I see.
Yes, well, would you put
your name and address here
and just sign it at the bottom?
Ah, good, good.
Now, if you'll just excuse me, sir,
I'll see if the CDI can
take you right away.
The CD what?
The CDI, the chief driving instructor.
I should like him personally
to handle your initial run.
I can't think what's happened
to your instructor, Mr. Constantine.
Perhaps he's had another crash, huh?
Oh, very amusing.
Ah, there's a tight-fisted Scot outside,
only wants a free one.
Now, if you butter him up a bit,
you might squeeze six out of him.
Huh, you're in a bad way, Basil.
Nerve not going, is it?
No, I'll be all right.
Ah, good man.
Good, good.
Now, then, Mr. Troon, this
is our CDI, Major Wentworth.
- How do you do?
- How do you do?
The CDI is a very excellent
motor teacher, you know.
He gave me my first 20 lessons.
Follow me, Mr. Groom.
Just one word of warning before we start.
Oh, yes?
Some people seem to develop
a sort of power complex
when they get behind a steering wheel.
Go on.
Oh, yes, they get selfish, arrogant,
intolerant to criticism, even
from their own instructors.
Oh, I know the type.
I sincerely hope that you
will not be one of those.
Oh, you don't have to
worry about that, Major.
Intolerant of criticism.
Dual controls, eh?
Just in case.
Well, let's run through
the controls, shall we?
Aye, it's just as well if you tell me
which is the brake and
which is the gear lever.
You're not serious?
Well, this is the gear lever
and that's the accelerator.
Hey, man, what is this, another crash?
Look.
Three: Look in the mirror.
Now, why do we do that?
To make sure that the
road is clear behind.
Well done.
Five: Make the appropriate hand signal.
Like this?
Of all the brainless,
four-eyed, dim-witted twerps,
you take the whole bleeding cake!
Go and get...
Yeah, well, that's another golden rule.
Anybody who shouts at
you like that, keep calm.
Well, come on, then, what are you...
I'm sorry. Go on.
Five: Put your clutch
out and engage the gear.
- Yeah.
- Six: Release your handbrake.
Uh-huh.
Seven: Let your clutch in again.
At the same time, gently
depressing the accelerator
and you move smoothly out into the road.
Right?
Well, it's an awful lot to remember,
but I think I can manage it.
Well, let's have a shot
at it, then, shall we?
Yep.
Now, what did we forget?
The bloody handbrake.
Shall we try it again, then?
You put it in the wrong gear!
I know that, you damn fool.
Why didn't you tell me?
I can't be expected to watch everything.
But you should do.
You're supposed to be the
instructor, aren't you?
Shall we try it again?
Aye.
And let's get it right this time.
Man, this sure a great day for crashes.
It's awful easy, isn't it?
Not quite so fast.
I know what I'm doing.
I'm a very good judge
of distance, you see.
You weren't nervous, were you?
Not at all, not at all.
You're exceeding the speed limit.
Well, who's to know?
What's the matter with it?
We're losing power.
Nothing the matter,
I'm applying my brake.
I thought I was supposed
to be driving this car.
You're supposed to be
doing what I tell you.
I would have thought it was obvious
that I had a natural aptitude for driving.
Oh, dear.
I'm getting a bit fed up
with your carping criticism.
Oh, come on, come on.
Make your mind up.
Blasted cyclists.
Come on, get a move on!
Think you own the road?!
Pull into the side, let him pass.
Why should I?
Well, I expect he's in a hurry.
Ha, we're all in a hurry.
Don't you
ever teach your pupils
to give hand signals?!
Now, then, don't you
start picking on my pupil.
He was entirely blameless.
That brainless idiot
was never blameless.
It wasn't my fault!
This old bosom walked
right in front of me!
Don't you dare
speak to me like that!
I quite agree with you, madam.
All you motorists are alike!
Madam, please, let us keep our heads.
Oh!
Oh.
For all she cared, I might
have been blinded for life.
Is the bruise very bad?
I can't see anything, Mr. Troon.
Must be an internal wound.
You worried about your future, Fox?
Good Lord, no, sir.
Well, I am.
You haven't sold a car for three weeks.
What?
Oh, it can't be as long as that.
Oh, yes.
I'll give you a week.
No sales, no job.
Well, there's nothing
to worry about, sir.
I'm pretty confident I can
flog this old sputnik here.
Said that a month ago.
I've got a real sucker this time.
Oh?
And furthermore...
Yeah?
What would you say if I got this firm
the agency for Alba Sports Cars?
- What would I say?
- Yeah.
I'd say, "Well done, partner."
Partner?
In the meantime, you're
still on a week's notice,
don't forget that.
Hey, did you want a
word with me, Freddy?
Oh, yes.
I've just been talking to Ken Kingscombe
up at the driving school.
Oh?
Yes, he thinks you're a born driver.
He reckons if you had a car of your own,
you'd pass the test in a week.
Oh, you're just trying
to kid me into buying this.
What a rotten suggestion.
Anyway, I couldn't, even
if you wanted me to.
Oh?
And why not?
Practically sold her this
afternoon, titled chap.
Tell you what, though, there's a very nice
little saloon car up in the showroom.
I'm not interested in saloons.
What's he offered you for it?
Hm? Offered for what?
Oh, this?
Only 475.
475?
Pounds?
- Mm.
Oh, that's an awful lot of money.
Well, as I always say,
you can't take it with you,
so you might as well drive it there.
Have you accepted his offer?
Yes, of course.
Well, as good as.
Cor, it's a giveaway at that price.
A giveaway.
I've got bills here for 400 pounds
spent on the engine alone.
Look.
Look at these tyres.
Marvellous.
Have you ever seen leatherwork
on a modern sports car like this?
Never.
As Claire Chingers said
the other day,
it's one of the most
beautiful Bentleys ever made.
Aye, she said that to me too.
Hm.
Well, I'd better get
back to the showrooms.
That titled chap is coming in
to settle the deal, seven o'clock.
If I made you an offer
of 500, would you take it?!
What?
I couldn't do a thing like that.
We car salesmen have a
code of honour, you know.
Oh, pity.
Mind you, if it was
somebody I could trust,
somebody who'd love, honour,
and cherish the old girl...
It's no good.
I'm a sentimental old fool.
I've no business in the motor trade.
It's yours for 500 pounds.
Credit or cash?
Oh, cash, naturally.
I'm not paying out interest to
another English moneylender.
Congratulations.
- Oh, I haven't actually...
- What's more,
I guarantee to teach you to drive her.
In next to no time, you'll be
roaring up to Claire's house
like a knight on a white charger.
Oh, a green charger.
Yes, exactly.
Come on, let's go inside
and settle this deal
before I change my mind.
That titled chap, he's gonna be furious.
Silly old fool.
Never looks where he's going.
Doddering old nincompoop.
Bulmer!
Is this thing yours?
No, sir.
I don't own no bicycle.
When I go shopping, I
takes a number 16 bus
from Highfield Road, then I changes over
to a number 23.
- Bulmer.
I do not care where or
how you do your shopping.
Who is the owner of this heap of junk?!
The next time you attempt to
deceive your doting parent
by concealing a bicycle
under a piece of sacking,
be so kind as to arrange that
it does not become entangled
in my rear bumper.
To whom does the bicycle belong?
Ooh, get with it, Daddy,
you know perfectly well it
belongs to Murdoch Troon.
You ran it down with your mower, remember?
And now, I've run it over with my car.
Ooh, lucky williewaught.
You'll have to buy him a new bicycle.
I shall do nothing of the sort.
It would be far more to the point
if he was to remove himself
entirely from the district.
What's he done now?
Not content with being a menace
to the cyclists on the roads,
he's learning to drive a car.
And whoever suggested he should so do
ought to be stood up
against a wall and shot.
Go ahead and shoot.
It was me.
You know, I simply cannot understand
why you encourage this
haggis-headed halfwit.
There are so many other pleasant young men
to go around with.
I'm bored with all the
boys that hang around me.
I'd like Murdoch to take me out.
I think he's a doll.
A doll?
Yes, he has such possibilities,
especially in a kilt.
No, darling, I simply cannot allow you
to go out with that clown.
Claire, where are you going?
I'm going to give him back his bike.
And I'll tell him you ran it over,
so you'd better call your
lawyers just in case.
Check for me, logbook for you.
You're now the proud
owner of The Fast Lady.
More sherry?
Oh.
Thank you very much.
Cheers.
Cheers, Stirling.
Cheers, Jack.
Cheers.
Let's put our cards on the table.
You want Claire Chingers,
I want the agency for Alba Motors.
Yeah, but I don't see the connection.
Claire's old man owns Alba.
Few words from you in
Dad's little ear hole,
Bob's your uncle.
Aye, well, Bob's not
gonna be anybody's uncle.
Mr. Chingford hates the
sight of me and vice versa.
All the more reason
why you need my help.
I don't need help from
anybody, thank you very much.
Here!
Take your hands off that car!
Hi, williewaught, I've brought
back your penny-farthing!
That's about all it's worth now!
Oh, it's Miss Chingford.
What will I do?
What'll I say?
"I don't need any help from
anybody, thank you very much."
All right, I'll make a deal with you.
You help me and I'll help you.
Right, what do I do first?
And hurry.
All right.
Now, go outside and say,
"Claire, you're one of the
loveliest girls I've ever met.
"I don't know why it is, but..."
No, that won't do.
No, say, "Claire, Claire,
"I've got a marvellous surprise for you."
And you'll say, "Yes,
I've taken your advice
"and I've bought The Fast Lady."
And what will she say?
Oh, she'll say, "Bully for
you," or words to that effect.
After that, you've got it laid, made.
Come on, get with it.
Are you sure it will work?
Of course it'll work, but
just to make absolutely sure,
swink, gives a man girl appear.
Hello, Willie.
Oh, hi, Miss Chingford.
Oh, let me.
Thank you.
Oh, dear.
Oh, what a mess.
Never mind.
Claire, I've got a
marvellous surprise for you.
Bully for you.
No, you've said that too soon.
The fact is I've taken your
advice and bought The Fast Lady.
What?!
I don't believe it!
Now, that's when you should
have said "bully for you."
You know, that's not the car for you.
You'll never learn to drive it.
Oh-ho, that's where you're wrong.
I'll have this car
mastered for the weekend.
Take it easy, Superman.
Hold this.
When Murdoch Troon makes up his mind
to do a thing, he does it.
And to prove it, I'd be
honoured if you would come
for a drive with me on Saturday afternoon,
if you don't object to L plates.
In five days?
Well, if you really can
drive it, I'll risk it.
Fine.
I'll pick you up at your place, eh?
Take it easy meanwhile,
I'd hate to see it end up like that.
Oh, that.
Did you get the green light?
Ah, there's only one
small thing, though,
I've got to learn to drive
The First Lady by Saturday.
Saturday?
You out of your tiny Scotch mind?
I've a guarantee, remember?
Now, look, I've got important business
every night this week.
No driving lessons, no deal.
Oh, very well, all right.
My word is my bond, you ask anyone.
Well, almost anyone.
Get in.
These gears are a bit tricky!
Actually, you're rather
rushing things, old man!
Take it easy!
We're not on the circuit, you know!
How much did you say
she could do in third?
70, but you're not in third yet!
We are now.
Take it easy, Murdoch.
Not so fast.
You're only a learner, you know.
Slow down, Murdoch, traffic lights.
Slow down!
Blast, he's got away!
The engine's packed up.
She stalled.
You left her in gear.
Oh, I know!
When was it you were
hoping to take Claire out?
Saturday.
And if you're hoping for
that agency from her old man,
you'd better instruct me a bit better
than you're doing at present.
Don't look now, there's
a gendarme on our tail.
I'll shake him off.
Don't be a berk.
Let him pass.
Oh, all right.
Why doesn't he pass?!
He's going to stick.
Take a side turning and lose him.
Oh, right.
I'll take him by surprise.
What's the matter with them all?
Why won't they stick to
the rules of the road?!
Pull into the side, you
clot, it's a one-way street.
Don't you call me a clot!
You told me to turn into it.
Pull into the side, please!
Call yourself an instructor.
You tell me to do one
thing, then when I do it...
Keep calm for heaven's
sake, here comes the law.
What do you mean, "keep calm"?
I'm the calmest person here.
And which one of you is the learner?
I am.
I'm sorry about this, Inspector.
I'm a qualified driver, of course.
This gentleman's my pupil.
Between you and me, when
he saw you on his tail,
he completely lost his head.
I did nothing of the sort!
I knew perfectly well what I was doing.
You mean you deliberately
went down this one-way street?
Now, don't you put words into my mouth.
If you ask me, you'd better off
chasing bank robbers and sex maniacs
rather than trying to catch
out innocent motorists.
I see.
May I see your driving
licence, please, sir?
Certainly.
Oh.
Pick it up for him.
Oh.
I'm sorry, I...
Well, that makes three offences so far.
Failure to give proper hand signals,
driving down a one-way street,
and assaulting a police officer.
You've been drinking.
I have nothing of the sort!
Well, I've only had one glass of sherry.
Yeah, that's what they all say,
but they don't usually try
to cover it up with perfume.
Now, look here, Officer...
Keep out of this.
Or have you been drinking too?
Certainly not.
I'm a teetotaler.
Yes, well, get in the
driving seat and follow me.
What's the idea?
You'll find out.
This is the police surgeon.
Now, you're sure you don't wish me
to call your own doctor to examine you?
I've told you at least
19 times that I'm not drunk
and I'm not calling out my own
doctor on a wild goose chase!
Very well, carry on, Doctor.
I'll be outside the door if you need me.
Name?
Murdoch Troon.
Name?
Murdoch Troon.
When did you last take food or drink?
I had lunch at midday.
Shepherds pie, boiled potatoes,
green peas, and red cabbage,
followed by a suet roll with
treacle and white coffee.
The price was five shillings,
and I paid for it with a lunch voucher.
And you still feel well?
Perfectly.
What is the day of the
week and the time of the day?
If it's of any importance,
it's the 23rd of June.
Hm.
And according to that clock on the wall,
it's about 2:15, but according
to my watch, it's 8:55.
Add up these numbers: seven, six, 14.
Quite correct, all right, stand up.
You've been drinking whiskey.
I've only had three.
What's it go to do with you?
Say, "The Leith Police dismisseth us."
The Leith Police dismiss...
The Leith Police dis...
Look here, I'm asking the questions.
Now, I want you to put your
arms down at your side,
close your eyes, and touch
the end of your nose.
You do it first.
Oh, very well.
There you are, see?
It's quite simple.
Anything else?
Yes.
I want you to walk in a straight line
along the edge of this carpet, so...
Anything else?
Sergeant!
This man is as sober as I am.
Goodnight.
Thank you, Doctor.
Now, if you have not
objection, I'll be on my way.
Oh, no, you won't.
There's that little matter of
assaulting a police officer
in the execution of his duty.
Yeah, but that was an accident.
You can tell that to the chairman
of the bench tomorrow morning.
Call Murdoch Troon and Frederick Fox!
Now, there's nothing to worry about.
Look the old beak straight in the eye,
tell him the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth.
And British justice will do the rest.
Present, Your Worship.
Murdoch Troon, do you
plead guilty or not guilty?
If the police constable
hadn't adopted an aggressive manner...
Plead guilty, be nice to him.
Do you plead
guilty or not guilty?
Oh, for heaven's sake,
man, I'm trying to tell you,
of all the impertinent,
the unreasonable,
the impossible constables that...
Do you plead guilty or not guilty?
Guilty.
Me too.
Definitely guilty.
You will be fined 25 guineas
and three guineas costs.
25 guineas!
Ha, you call this English
justice, you old goat?!
Oh!
And a further 25 guineas
for contempt of court.
Thank you very much, Your Worship.
As for you, Fox, your responsibility
as driving instructor being
correspondingly greater,
you will be fined 30 guineas
and pay three guineas costs.
Thank you, sir, I absolutely deserve it.
Your sandwiches and hot tea, love.
Thank you, Mrs. S.
Doing your accounts again?
Aye, being an owner
driver's more expensive
than I anticipated.
Road tax, 15 pounds; insurance, 39 pounds;
secondhand motoring kit, six pounds;
legal proceedings, 55
pounds, 13, and eightpence.
You poor thing.
Oh, and that's not all.
I've only had the car two days
and I've used 25 gallons of petrol.
I expect it's sprung a leak.
Anyway, you can't say I didn't warn you.
Anything to do with Mr.
Fox is sure to cause...
Sure to cause what, Mrs. S?
Trouble, Mr. F.
Well, there's gratitude for you.
Here I am giving up a
smashing party in Chiswick
to go out onto a cold and windy airfield
to make Murdoch into a
budding Grand Prix winner,
and all you can say is I cause trouble.
Really, sometimes, life
is hardly worth living.
If you ask me, Mr. Troon
would be far better off
in bed with his cocoa.
Oh? Who's this Cocoa?
Oh, yes, of course, I see what you mean.
Right, now, let's try the next one.
Lesson four: A three-point
turn in a narrow road.
This is the road here,
between these oil drums.
Now, remember, you've
got to get round in three
without actually touching...
- I know, I know.
Don't make such a fuss
about a simple turn.
I did it in two!
Ah, ah, ah!
Oh, you don't have to worry about this.
I could back into there
with my eyes closed.
Now, just do a normal
reverse into the garage
and imagine this is your own.
Anchors away!
It's just as well
you haven't got a garage!
I think I'm getting the idea!
No, you've got no control!
Always turn into the skid and
then just touch your brakes.
Well, that's what I was doing!
Well, let me try again.
No, jump out, please.
You've got no idea.
I'll show you how it should be done.
Hold my apple, will you?
Shake him.
You know, for a moment there,
I thought you'd lost control.
You know, Maya,
you're one of the loveliest
girls I've ever met.
I don't know why it is, you know,
I've always been mad about brunettes,
especially when they turn up unexpectedly.
You thought I'd got another
girl here, didn't you, hm?
Yes, Freddy, darling.
Naughty, naughty.
You should know by now,
Freddy Fox is a one-girl man.
What are you stopping for, Murdoch?!
I was soaking wet, freezing cold,
and it's way past my bedtime!
We must endure these hardships!
Another 24 laps, if you please.
24 laps should be enough,
shouldn't it, Maya, baby?
Three o'clock, Daddy.
Aren't you gonna play golf?
Cancelled it, my dear,
more important things to do.
Oh, you know you always
play golf on Saturdays.
And you know the exercise is good for you.
Besides, you're getting a terrific pot.
I never do anything that's good for me.
Furthermore, I have no
intention of entering
any beauty competitions.
Oh!
Oh, there's money there, all right.
Now, don't forget what I told you.
Keep to the side roads.
Give her tea in Guildford
and take her to Frensham
when it starts to get dark.
It's all marked here on the map.
You're absolutely sure
it is a quiet place?
Quiet?
You can even hear the
butterflies take off.
Just the place for the
old passion stakes, eh?
She's not that sort of a girl.
Pity.
Well, I hope mine is.
Well, she's bound to expect a bit
of the old synchromeshing, surely?
Well, kiss or two, anyway, eh?
And when does the great lover
expect me to start all this?
When the old moon comes out,
the old nightingales begin to warble.
Look into her eyes, breathe
hotly down her neck,
and then let Mother
Nature take its course.
There's nothing coarser
than Mother Nature.
Good luck.
And if you get any time in
between the old gear changes,
you know, put in a good
word for Freddy Fox.
Move over, Grunhilde, baby.
Dreamboat's firing on all cylinders.
Come on.
I'm sorry, Miss Chingford.
My foot slipped.
But I don't know what's
happened to your gardener.
Oh, he gets in everybody's way.
Oh, thank goodness, I
think he's all right.
Wow.
Oh, well, I felt it
was a special occasion.
You know, you look fabulous!
Oh, look out.
This is the fourth
occasion on which we've met.
I intend it to be the last.
Take this car off my lawn.
And, anyway, you've no
right to be driving it
without a qualified driver by your side.
I've only been left at the...
This is private property,
and, anyway, I'm a qualified driver.
and there's really nothing
you can do about it.
Oh, yes, there is.
He happens to be the worst driver
that has ever been my
misfortune to encounter.
It might interest you to know
that Murdoch learned to drive
this car in less than a week.
I think he's marvellous.
Red Label?
Yeah, believed winner at Le Mans.
Nobody could learn to
drive in a week in this car.
Murdoch did.
You keep out of this.
I'll have you know, young man,
that I'm a veteran motorist
of 40 years standing.
I've raced this type of car
both at Brooklands and Le Mans.
If you can convince me that
you can handle this car,
even passably, I may allow you to take
my daughter out this afternoon.
Challenge accepted.
Very good.
Don't worry, Claire, I'll show him.
You bring him down a peg or two!
Good luck, darling!
Which way?
It takes me exactly 42 minutes
to reach Wilmington Golf Course from here.
A novice should be able to do it in 55.
That way.
Right.
Shall we synchronise our watches?
Don't be infantile, boy.
There's a clock on the dashboard.
Oh, so there is.
Oh, my back tire's gone.
You have exactly 54
and a half minutes left.
You don't mean you're
gonna charge me time
for changing my wheel?
Why not?
The good motorist sees to it
that his car is, in all
respects, ready for the road
and in perfect condition.
Oh.
As we're on a hill,
I presume you have chocked
up the other rear wheel?
Where the hell does it go?
Why don't you see if it's
got a left-hand thread?
You'll save yourself a lot of time.
My wheel!
Somebody's stolen my wheel!
It went that way.
What do you
think you're playing at,
you stupid idiot?!
The man's a maniac!
I'm gonna do something about this!
Well, it's done.
You have 35 minutes left.
Something's gone wrong with the engine.
I should have thought it
would have been obvious,
even for a novice, that a
car cannot move forwards
unless both rear wheels are
in contact with the ground.
28 minutes left.
Come on, come on!
Don't you blow your horn
at me, you bloody roadhog!
Can't you see I'm stuck?!
Well, push that thing to the side!
Get your friends to help you!
What?!
With an 80-year-old mother,
a wife who's expecting,
and three little kids?!
It's people like you who started the war!
I'm not gonna stand
for that, you big bully!
How much time left?!
15 minutes!
Well, we're doing over 90,
so I think I can safely
say that we'll make it.
As we've been going
in the wrong direction
for the last three miles, I
think that's very unlikely.
But why didn't you tell me?!
A good motorist travels at a speed
at which he can see the signposts.
Something's gone wrong.
You've run out of petrol.
Oh, blast!
We'll have to push it to
the nearest petrol station.
We?
22 gallons, please.
Yes, sir.
How much time left?
Two minutes, and as we
still have six miles to go,
I think we can take it that you have lost.
Your driving is deplorable,
your road sense is execrable,
and your mechanical
knowledge, nonexistent.
I doubt if even a woman could drive worse.
If you think you're so marvellous,
how about you driving me back
in, shall we say, 35 minutes?
Certainly.
And if you don't make it,
I can take Claire out as arranged?
I shall be delighted to
give you a demonstration
of how a car like this should be driven.
And, shall we say, 30 minutes?
I presume you won't mind
if I take a shortcut?!
Do what you like, it's your 30 minutes!
What's the matter?!
I want to go that way!
Will all competitors
please make sure you have reported
to the scrutineers office?
- Blast!
A good motorist knows when
a hill climb is taking place.
The next group
of cars will be starting
the hill climb in about 15 minutes time.
Will you all make sure that you are ready?
Number six is putting
up a wonderful show,
but he just doesn't have the speed.
He's trying very hard.
Perhaps he'll make it.
Oh, no. Bad luck.
Number six, five points only.
Now, let's see what
Ken Longhurst and his...
There is a novice.
Went fast when he should have
gone slow, and vice versa.
I suppose you could have done it better.
I could, and I will.
Bounce!
Go on, faster!
Child's play!
Now, we'll take another shortcut.
Look what you've done!
You've ruined my car!
Nonsense.
These cars will stand up to anything.
Whole point is it's going to take you
a good hour to get out of here.
Me?
Are you not gonna help?
Why should I?
I'm in no hurry.
It's you that's taking out my daughter.
You mean that I've won?
Unfortunately, yes.
I never go back on a bet.
Well, it's nice of you to turn up!
You're only three hours late.
Had a smashing afternoon
watching "Noddy" on TV.
No, no, it's all
right, Claire, I've won!
And your father was a very
good sport about it too.
Well, if you're still
thinking of taking me out,
you can take that smug smile off your face
and go and wash it,
and your knees.
My knees?
Oh, I see what you mean.
Well, I'll just, yes.
Oh, could you tell me where
the little boys' room is, sir?
In the hall, first on the right.
Oh, first on the right.
You're not seriously
still considering going out
with that knobbly-kneed
Scottish nationalist, are you?
Yes.
And he's not got knobbly knees.
Actually, they've got dimples on them.
If you must know, I think
he's got terrific guts
and, I don't know, he's just different.
He has no road sense,
no mechanical knowledge, and no money.
I don't care about that.
By no stretch of the imagination
could he be considered good-looking.
And he lacks charm to a remarkable degree.
Not to me, he doesn't.
Darling, you know I'm
only thinking about you.
You're all I've got left.
And I don't want to see you
making a fool of yourself.
I won't.
Well, if you insist.
But I suggest that
you're back by midnight.
Oh, you're a darling!
Oh, sorry.
Sorry.
He's making no progress at all.
He hasn't got a clue.
Perhaps his old chemicals
aren't going zoom, zoom, zoom.
What's that?
Noises off, Grunhilde, baby.
Now, keep very still, absolutely still.
All right?
It should be filled with water, really.
But, I suppose, gin will do.
Well, get on with it, we
have been hanging around
for hours doing nothing.
We'll rectify that.
If you should hear a nightingale
calling soulfully to its mate,
don't get too excited, it's only me.
Excuse me.
Oh! Ooh.
Do you have to do all this?
Grunhilde, my fascinating
little Fraulein,
you want to wear mink, don't you?
Do you agree with your father
that I lack charm to a remarkable degree?
No, of course not.
Otherwise, I wouldn't be here.
Oh, that's very true.
Well, here goes.
Oh, listen, a nightingale.
Oh, aye.
There's nothing like
sounds of Mother Nature.
And you agree that by no
stretch of the imagination
could I be called good-looking?
Stop fishing for
compliments and kiss me.
Kiss you?
Oh, that's better.
Who said Scotsmen are cold?
Well, wasn't it Robbie Burns?
I won't need the nightingales.
What?
I'm not much good
at foreign lingoes.
But not to worry, I'll get
by in the Common Market.
Kiss me,.
Kiss me.
When are we going swimming?
Anytime you say, baby.
What say we skip convention
and risk it in the old all together, eh?
What is the "old all together"?
Ya?
All right, then.
Nein.
Darling, what are you doing?
My foot's
caught in the gear lever.
Ooh, come on.
Feel as if I were floating on air.
What time is it, darling?
It's early, it's early, it's early.
Quiet, boy, quiet.
Oh, we're standing in water.
How on Earth did we get here?
We must have rolled down the hill.
Oh, what are we gonna do?
We'll have to get out and push.
One, two, three, push!
Oh!
Ah, good evening, sir.
Good evening.
Water in the carburetor.
It couldn't be helped.
Go to your room.
Anything you say, Putsy.
Goodnight, williewaught, my darling.
It wasn't his fault.
He's a beautiful driver.
Did you?
No, I didn't.
And I hope you noticed what
she said about my driving.
Only a woman blinded by infatuation
could be guilty of such self-deception.
It might interest you
to know that I intend
to take my driving test immediately.
And what's more, I'll
bet you anything you like
I pass it first go.
Done.
And if you fail, will
you give me your word
never to see my daughter again?
What about if I pass?
The chances of that
happening are so remote
that I will willingly
let you take her out
whenever you so wish.
And let him marry her?
Mind your own business.
And kindly remove your
car, your fancy woman,
and yourself from my property.
Road junction, footpath, traffic lights.
Road junction, footpath, traffic lights.
Hey, what's the idea?
Why has he got two eggs
when I've only got one?
You are not taking a driving test today.
He needs building up.
Now, you're not to get yourself
into a state, Mr. Troon.
Quite right, there's
no cause to get nervous.
Everything's fixed.
I spoke to that pal of mine
whose cousin is one of the examiners.
I don't need any help from anyone
to pass my test, thank you.
I dare say.
With so much at stake,
we don't want to take any chances, do we?
Well, as long as it's all above board.
Well, of course it is.
Mind you, it'll cost you a
bottle of scotch for my pal,
but that's a small price to
pay for the woman you love.
Now, here's the drill.
When I drop you there,
wait in the waiting room
till a chap comes along
with a large moustache.
You know, one of those big,
bushy, war surplus jobs.
He's your man.
So get up and wink at him.
Wink at him, eh?
Oh!
My finger!
Mrs. Staggers!
Look, my finger.
Oh, you poor thing.
There it is.
Will you be here when I come back?
Rather.
Planning a sort of surprise.
Welcome committee for the
conquering hero and all that jazz.
"England expects this day,
every Scotsman to do his duty."
Ah, that's my boy.
Hey.
Youse a pupil from the very fine
Kingscombe School of Motoring, ain't you?
- Oh, yes, hello.
- We meet before, sir.
Yes, that's right.
Your first test?
My seventh.
Very strict here, you know.
And what do you think, don't like crashes.
Is that why they failed you?
Mm, but only on two occasions.
Last time, they fail me
for a most trifling matter.
Oh?
What was that?
Lighting cigar.
Apparently, not permissible
while overtaking bus.
Oh, well, that's one thing I won't do.
Miss Oldham, do come this way, please.
You know, I was hoping to
get the squadron leader myself.
Very keen talker on cricket, that man.
He was the one I had the
crashes with, remember?
Still, as long as I don't get Mr. Bodley.
What, why? Who's he?
An outstandingly disagreeable
person is that man.
Don't like cricket, don't like calypsos.
Ha, he don't like nothing.
Morning, Mr. Bodley.
Very fine day, sir, with
excellent sun for taking test.
Mr. Murdoch Troon, please.
Man, this is my lucky day.
Which is your car?
Did you drive it here yourself?
Aye.
And where is the qualified
driver who accompanied you?
Well, he's gone off now.
He should have remained
in the car until I arrived.
Very well, carry on.
Sorry.
If I make any mistakes
with my gear changing,
it's because I had a wee bit
of an accident this morning.
Do you wish to cancel your test?
Oh, no, no.
It's nothing at all, really, it's...
Then why mention it?
Proceed.
Cannot get...
Forgot to switch on.
Will I continue down the High Street?
I'll tell you what to
do and when to do it.
Thank you very much.
Pull into the side of
the road, if you please.
Oh, have you been taken
sh, oh, the side, yes.
Certainly, sir.
Yes, he's taking the test now.
I thought it would be a splendid idea
if you were to come over,
give him a bit of a
cheer when he gets back.
Oh, and why not bring your
delightful father along too?
Well, I'll do my best.
But listen, Freddy, are
you sure he'll pass?
I thought they failed
everybody the first time.
Not when the tester's
a pal of Freddy Fox.
Before I get you to start up again,
I should like to ask you
one or two questions.
Oh, this is where you're,
oh, I've been looking forward to this.
I think I can safely say that I know
the Highway Code backwards.
Frontwards is quite sufficient.
Perhaps you'll be good enough to enumerate
six of the eight occasions
on which you do not overtake another car.
Let me see now.
One, at a pedestrian crossing.
Two, at a road junction.
Three, a humpbacked bridge.
Four, a pedestrian crossing.
You've already said that.
Oh, did I?
Oh, well, four is a corner.
Five, humpbacked...
We've had that one too.
Yes.
Five...
Oh, I know.
Where the road narrows,
and that's the sixth.
On the contrary, it's only five.
Oh, oh, yes, I, sorry.
I forgot.
On the brow of a hill.
Ask me another.
Now, let's see you
start up again on a hill.
Supposing a heavily-laden lorry
were to come over the brow
of the hill at high speed,
what would you do?
Let me see now.
What would I do?
Well, the important thing
would be to keep my head.
Take that filthy weed out of your mouth
when you're talking to me.
You're absolutely right, sir.
Filthy muck.
You and my daughter have lured me here
by means of a trick.
Thereby caused me to miss a
most important engagement.
The only reason I'm staying
is in order to have the
satisfaction of learning
that Troon has failed his driving test.
Oh, look, there they are.
He's got the wrong examiner!
Stop!
Follow that car.
- Who, me?
- Yes, you, and step on it.
Don't worry about the speed limit.
- But, Officer, he...
- Will you shut up?!
Get on with it.
Oh!
We'll need your help, sir!
Reverse!
- Come on, we're going too!
Right. Go on.
Don't bother about
hand signals, step on it!
Well, what about the Highway Code?!
Oh, to hell with the Highway Code!
Right!
I'm coming down.
What did you say?
- Don't!
- Right!
Can't you go any faster?
If this idiot learner would stop swaying
all over the road, I could pass him.
You mean you would if you
could drive as well as he does.
Ooh.
Oh, no, no, please don't
overtake on a humpback bridge!
Odd.
Bloody odd.
Fore!
Williewaught!
My hero!
Fabulous, Murdoch!
You were a credit to me!
No examiner in his right mind
could possibly fail
him now, could he, sir?
Well?
Come along, man.
Far as I'm concerned, he
is disqualified for life!
Disqualified?
Well, that's that, then.
Goodbye, Claire.
Goodbye, Mr. Chingford.
But, Murdoch, you can't go...
No, no, Claire.
I lost my bet with your father,
and a Troon never goes back on a bet.
Putsy!
Just a moment, young man.
I decide who has won the bet.
As a matter of fact, I very much doubt
if I could have handled The
First Lady better myself.
You're dead right, sir.
And just because this regulation-ridden,
form-filling, pen-pushing nincompoop
is unable to recognise a
good driver when he sees one,
you may now go out with
Murdoch whenever you wish.
Putsy.
Oh.
And may I ask him to marry me?
Certainly.
And if he says no, just come and tell me.
And from now on,
I'm gonna do the driving.
- Thanks!
You've forgotten to put
the handbrake off, darling!
And when we get to the main road,
don't forget to give
the correct hand signal.
That's enough of that, williewaught.
Goodbye!
Have a good time!
Ah.
Oh, excuse me, sir!
Are you going back?
I am, alone.
Bearded nit.
Could you give me a lift?
Jump in.
Oh, thank you very much.
It's very kind of you.
I got stranded.
If I may say so,
you're one of the loveliest
girls I've ever met.
I don't know why it is, but
I've always been mad about...