Blott on the Landscape (1985) s01e05 Episode Script
Part Five
It's OK.
It's safe now.
Find his car, put it in the garage and remove that thing that goes round.
- The rotor arm, lady? - Make sure he can't use any of the other cars.
Double-padlock all the gates.
We don't want innocent people wandering about with all these dangerous animals.
Do you understand, Blott? Exactly.
So perhaps you don't wish me to feed the lions this morning? Quite.
Let nature take its course.
After all, Giles always did believe in the law of the jungle.
I don't believe it.
I just don't believe it.
What on earth?! Is your name Dundridge, sir? - It is, yes.
- The Chief Constable would like a word.
Murder? Murder? How can you possibly talk about murder? - You're calling it an accident? - It had nothing to do Person or persons unknown deliberately take a large crane and then pulverise a house in which two innocent people are sleeping.
The householder dies, his wife is catapulted into the rose bed.
This you designate an accident? You're saying that I took a crane? No.
I'm saying this crime is a little bit more oblique than that.
The person responsible issued the orders.
- For murder you have to have a motive.
- I'm glad you mentioned that.
Would you or would you not say your relations with Mr Bullett-Finch were marked by well, an unusual degree of animosity? Certainly not.
Constable, pass me that notebook.
I have here a quote from a source that's prepared to testify.
According to this source, you said the following over the telephone when Mr Bullett-Finch rang to complain.
"If you don't stop pestering me, man, "I'll personally see to it you lose a damn sight more "than a quarter of an acre off your bleeding garden.
" Did you or did you not say that, Mr Dundridge? Well, I may have done.
There are no formal charges at the moment.
If you don't mind, we'll keep you within our facility until further evidence is amassed.
You may, of course, avail yourself of the services of your lawyer.
I'm afraid it's only cereal, Blott.
The electricity's off.
I phoned Worford.
They said the transformer's blown up in Gilstead Carbonell.
How strange.
- And Giles? Where's he just now? - Up a tree.
You can see from the window.
(PHONE RINGS) Handyman Hall.
What is it, General? This is utterly appalling! Blott! They've demolished Gilstead Carbonell and killed Mr Bullett-Finch! - Really? - Yes, you'd all better come over here at once.
The estate's rather locked up this morning.
Hoot three times at the gates and Blott will let you in.
See you in a minute.
How horrible! Look.
He's making a run for the garage.
Don't worry.
The cars are fixed.
I go after him.
Perhaps it's time we let him go.
Hmm.
I don't think so.
(ENGINE SPLUTTERS) Blott! You've got to let me out of here! Get out.
Go back.
L5,000.
All you've got to do is open the gates.
You could have saved this fine English house, but you didn't like it.
- L10,000.
L20,000.
Anything! - So I don't like your money.
Now, get out of this garage.
I count to ten.
One.
- L50,000.
- Two.
- L100,000! - Three.
Terrible way to go, having a dashed great iron ball smash you to smithereens.
Probably like a gigantic cannonball.
(MISS PERCIVAL) There's a man up a tree! - You're seeing things.
- There is! There's a man up a tree! Why would a man be up a tree? Up here! Help! I think we have to begin by offering formal condolences to Ivy Bullett-Finch.
Indeed, I've tried to ring her, but I got no reply.
- Yes, well, the house is knocked down.
- (BOTH) Ours, too.
And to all of you who have suffered in Gilstead Carbonell.
However, there is this much to be said for it.
It puts us all in a much stronger position with the Ministry of the Environment and this infernal motorway.
- Now that Mr Dundridge is in custody.
- Excuse me! The Chief Constable phoned.
He's keeping me abreast of events.
Turns out Dundridge had nothing to do with it.
Apparently there was a shindig at the Royal George last night.
A couple of navvies had too much strong beer.
Beer? Did you say beer? Oh, no insult intended to the Handyman product, but that's what these fellows drink.
Then they topped it up with vodka.
- They found the bottle in the cab of the crane.
- Where's Blott? (SIR GILES) Help! Help! It's not Blott we need, it's Sir Giles! He's the only one who can do anything now.
- He's in an ideal position.
- Up here! It's time he made his presence felt.
- I quite agree.
- I quite agree, too.
- The thing is, if only he'd raise his voice.
- Aaaaargh! - Good God! What was that? - Aaaaaieee! It's Sir Giles! Raising his voice! Ohh! Good God.
A lion's got him.
- Bloody lot of good that'll do! - You stay here.
This is not going to be pretty.
It's eaten him? Ohh! Better go myself.
It's safer out there.
At the third stroke it will be 3.
10 precisely.
Dear me.
3.
10.
At the third (RADIO) After the talks, the peace envoy believed a permanent settlement had been reached in the Middle East.
Sir Giles Lynchwood, Member of Parliament and property developer, died at his home, Handyman Hall, near Worford when he was eaten by a lion in the estate's wildlife park.
In Arizona, a freak whirlwind destroyed Giles! If I had just got up and got him his breakfast, he might still be alive.
I know how you feel, Lady Maud.
My deepest condolences.
We didn't always see eye to eye, but it's still a very great shock.
At least I'm taking away the remains.
That's one worry off your mind.
I'm afraid there'll have to be an inquest.
Is that absolutely necessary? After all, it's quite clear what must have happened.
Giles came back to do his duty and didn't know about the animals.
General Burnett and Colonel Chapman witnessed everything.
Just a formality, my lady.
Bad smell of oil here.
Trouble with the central heating? Yes, I think there is a leak somewhere.
I've always got Blott to fix it for me.
- Try and bear up, Lady Maud.
- Yes, I will.
Blott! Blott! I want a word with you! - Is nearly fixed.
- Blott, do you realise what you've done? - He was going to burn down your house.
- I'm not talking about that.
Although he was my husband.
I'm talking about Mr Bullett-Finch.
- The little one who liked his lawn? - He's dead, Blott! Killed last night when his house was demolished.
That is quite a pity.
Is that all you've got to say? I didn't know he was in the house! Like you didn't know that one would be eaten by those lions! If I'd known what you were up to, I'd never have written that note to the brewery.
- You tell me off? - That's right, Blott! I'm telling you off! What the devil's been going on, Dundridge? - On? - A man living quietly in the country is battered to death with an iron ball belonging to our contractors? An entire village destroyed by our men? Dundridge, the property-owning classes support this government.
We don't want them thinking it's our custom to demolish their homes without any warning.
While they're fast asleep inside.
We appointed you, Dundridge, for your tact.
Your skill at dealing with press and public.
Now you're behaving like the worst kind of bureaucratic upstart.
You do not understand, Minister.
I have tried tact, the soft touch.
- You do not realise what I am up against.
- What's that? - That woman.
- Which woman? I'm trying to build a nice motorway through the estate of a woman whose idea of tact is first to try and seduce me.
Really? Really Who? - Lady Maud.
- Takes potshots at me with a 12-bore! Blackmails me! And then blocks the way with animals that gobbled up her husband! Yes, poor Sir Giles.
A rough diamond at times, a bit wild at the end, but I was fond of him.
- Sorry to miss his memorial service.
- I expect she arranged his death, too! She'd do anything to stop the motorway.
And now there's a by-election! That's another one in the eye for poor old J Dundridge! Dundridge, you don't think you're getting too overwrought? Finding the strain too much for you? If you don't trust my judgment, Minister, there's only one thing I can do.
Resign.
Come back to my desk here.
Rejoin your team.
Ah.
I don't think we need go that far.
- Can't you just play it carefully for a bit? - Head down, avoid unfavourable publicity.
On one condition.
That Handyman Hall is demolished as quickly as possible.
- That poor woman's still in public mourning.
- Think of the press.
- "Weeping widow watches home destroyed.
" - The only way.
Then leave it a week.
Do it tactfully, for God's sake! Leave not a trace behind.
Thank you, Minister.
Are you sure that went the right way, Minister? Nice ceremony, Blott.
(BLOTT) Always good, English ceremonies.
Blott, I think I owe you an apology.
I've not properly appreciated what you've done for me.
My father was right to bring you back, whatever the circumstances.
- I wouldn't have managed without you.
- Oh, it was nothing.
You know how I care for you and that house.
Well, we fought the good fight, but we've lost.
They've taken away the animals and they'll take me away when I come out of mourning.
OK, we stop them.
- Blott, we've tried everything.
- OK, leave it to me.
- You, Blott? - Yes, lady, if you let me have some money.
Money's no problem.
But I don't want any more violence! There's been quite enough of that.
I could hardly look Ivy Bullett-Finch in the eye.
Mind you, she squints.
Do go in, dear lady.
A sad occasion.
I thought port today.
It helps.
Yes, I always feel these events would be totally cheerless were it not for the will.
And, on this occasion, rather a good one.
- Really? - Yes.
Sir Giles's property investments proved vastly greater than any of us could have supposed.
I suppose you've not heard of something called "offshore"? - Well, the old devil! - Quite! Quite! - And it all reverts to you.
- How much? Let's just say a fortune, Lady Maud.
A right royal fortune.
- Here's to it.
- That does improve a gloomy day.
- Bottoms up! - Yes, indeed.
Precisely.
Of course, you're going to need some very considered advice.
So, now, let us see what we have got here.
Very good.
We have 400 concrete blocks.
We have Yes.
40 six-foot reinforcing rods, 200 yards barbed wire and 60 tons cement.
Much to offer, I assure you.
Much to offer.
Oh, do get up, Mr Ganglion! At your age! You won't do better anywhere else, Maud.
I always feel, by nature, there's something profoundly intimate between a solicitor and his client.
And what exactly do you mean by that? We see our clients in their light and their shadow.
Things come our way.
These, for instance, brought to me a few days ago.
Rather repulsive, as you see, but I think you've seen them before.
It WAS Dundridge! The little swine lied to me! - How did YOU get them? - He brought them to me.
Said you were blackmailing him with them.
Me?! He accused me of blackmail and you believed him?! Of course not.
Acting in your interest, I dismissed him forthwith.
Filthy little beast! I'll make him regret the day he was born! Lady Maud, we could sue him for slander! Together! All I ask, Chief Constable, is your full support should the residents of Handyman Hall fail to move out.
We don't want a repetition of last time.
We don't want another mistake like that again.
Do we? No.
A quick change of tune there.
Take a look at yourself! You filthy swine! Now what have you got to say for yourself? - I've already told you - There's no use calling Mr Ganglion! I'm calling the Chief Constable.
I intend to have you charged! The police?! Give me that! You! Quick! Stop her! - You despicable swine! - Get her! Vile! Treating the Handymans like this! I'll sue you for every penny you've got! You heard her.
She intended to blackmail me again.
- Where are those photographs? - Oh, I burned them.
- Didn't think you'd want them lying around.
- They were evidence.
No, no, no, they're better gone.
- You could always be a witness.
- Yes, I suppose I could.
Right, Hoskins, that settles it.
We move into Handyman Hall on Monday.
Lawks! - Blott, what's happened? - They have delivered the things already.
I think it is better we leave the cars outside now.
Soon it'll be impossible to get through.
You mind to walk to the Hall? It's going to be very inconvenient.
- I hope you know what you're doing, Blott.
- Oh, yes.
It starts.
Mr Blott! Send for the Chief Constable.
Get that barbed wire down, remove those gates.
Quickly.
You and you, tidy my office.
Quickly! - What's happened? - That Blott has barricaded himself in and blocked the road! Right, lift! What is the meaning of this?! - Good morning, Lady Maud.
- No, it isn't! This is private property.
- Will you all kindly leave? - These men are here to begin work.
You are in receipt of a compulsory purchase order.
Served to you on 25th June.
They are entirely within their rights.
I want them off my land.
Sorry as I am to say it, dear lady, they are fully entitled to act in this way.
You may not hinder them.
Now, will you kindly instruct Mr Blott to vacate the premises? - Tell him yourself! - He appears to have barricaded himself in.
We don't want to use force, Lady Maud.
Let's settle this sensibly.
It's got nothing to do with me.
If you want to use force, you'd better go ahead and use it.
Very well.
Get sledgehammers.
Batter down that door.
(BANGING) Here, here.
Good boy.
It's no good, sir.
He's cemented himself in.
It IS his home.
Mr Blott? Mr Blott! This is the Chief Constable of South Worfordshire! Can you hear me? Indicate if you can hear me.
You are in breach of the law, Mr Blott.
I require you to come down and give yourself up now.
No one will hurt you.
And no charges will be pressed.
(MUSIC: "RULE BRITANNIA") Very well, Mr Blott.
Then further action will be taken.
Have you any bright ideas? Suppose we demolish the arch with him in it? Mr Dundridge, I think you might have learned from the incident with Mr Bullett-Finch.
If you want to face a murder or manslaughter charge, that's up to you.
I think we'd better try more usual procedures.
I knew the bitch would come up with something.
- Do you know any way to demolish it? - Not if he doesn't want us to.
That man is a lunatic! You're not feeling under any sort of stress? No.
And you? - And you're getting enough to eat? - There's enough here for two years.
- You want supper? - What is it YOU want, Mr Blott? - Tell us.
- No motorway.
You must understand, everything I love is here.
I don't want one, do you see? I gather you're a foreigner, Mr Blott.
Would you do this sort of thing at home? You think I'm a foreigner?! You think I don't care about this place?! Here is home! I came here when things were bad for me.
Nowhere to go.
Perhaps it is even more home! And I want to keep it! Just like this! He seems quite a normal He seems quite a normal person to me.
I'm going to talk to the Ministry.
They like me to consult them, you know.
He's barred himself in, filled the bottom rooms with concrete, got food for days.
There's barbed wire on the roof.
There is no way to get him out.
It does sound as if he intends a long stay.
What about the police? - Useless! - Fire Brigade? - Won't do it.
- Then what do you suggest? The SAS.
Densher, let me understand.
You're seriously proposing to me that we bring in the SAS to get some little chap out of some little shack in order to build a motorway? - Whose idea was this? - Well, in the first instance, Dundridge.
Very well.
But on the explicit understanding they're used only in a police support role.
Don't use firearms.
They simply enter the place and hold the chap until the police evict him in the proper manner.
Is that understood? Certainly, Minister.
I'll get on to Defence at once.
Mr Dundridge? Major Templeton.
Ah, splendid.
You'll be pleased to hear I've done a bit of early reconnaissance.
- Oh, really? - Yes.
Photographs of the target.
Two means of access - upstairs windows on either side.
And a hatch in the roof.
Probably the best method of attack is a diversionary move to the rear and then a frontal assault.
- I I think you can safely leave the tactics to me.
Everyone to his business, eh? I believe yours is digging roads.
- I was only trying to help.
- I'd be glad if you civvies would just clear out.
Argh! Aaargh! - What's the blighter got? Flares? - Flashgun.
Casualty, sir.
Strickland's broken his leg.
This man's a fiend.
Ow! God! Oh! (BLOTT) You gentlemen are wanting something? - Try the grappling irons.
- Yes, sir.
Any more like to come up? Don't do anything! We'd like to tend our wounded! Two broken legs, one collarbone and a sprained ankle and Figgis has gone sick, sir.
Typical desk-wallah job, this.
Send men in under-equipped against overwhelming odds Orders, sir? Are we going back in? My God! - What was that? - Bren gun and mortar fire, sir.
He's got an army down there! (LADYMAUD) I want the Chief Constable! Percy, come at once! They've murdered him! They've attacked the lodge and killed him! - Killed who? - Blott! They're using machine guns.
And something much bigger! Ah! Reinforcements! Thank God you've arrived.
Those devils down there have wounded four of my men.
- Who are you? What are you doing here? - Major Templeton, sir.
SAS.
- Special secret mission, sir.
Very hush-hush.
- I'm Chief Constable and I know of no mission.
That's funny, sir.
I thought everyone knew about it.
I want all your lot down at the police station for questioning! Isn't that ridiculous, sir? We're in a police support role.
There are none of my men within miles.
I never asked for the SAS to come and blow a man up! We didn't, sir! Honestly! We haven't got any weapons.
The firing started after we made our tactical withdrawal.
You get all your men down to the station.
By the way, who did you liaise with here? A civil servant chap by the name of Dundridge, sir.
Ahh, that explains it.
The Lebanon? A war-weary South American republic? Far from it.
A pleasant little corner of rural England.
A foreign army? A terrorist gang? No, just one ordinary little man angry at the destruction of his home to build the controversial M399 motorway.
Mr Blott? Tell us about the attack.
Well I am asleep, you see.
And I hear the noise.
And I open the window to look out and I see men climbing up my wall, the army men.
And I don't want it, so I pour oil down the wall.
Oil, Mr Blott? Not hot oil? Of course not! No time to hot it.
Cooking oil.
Now they are not coming up any more.
They are sliding down.
And next begins the firing.
- They really began firing on you? - Yes! Minister.
I heard explosions.
Things were flying about, so I just lie on the floor until it stops.
And now you see how is here my house.
But I need it.
It is still mine.
An Englishman's home is, I think, still his castle.
I want Dundridge here.
Immediately.
- I feel I have achieved - I'll tell you.
A series of quite appalling disasters.
A retired gentleman pulped to death by a crazed demolition expert.
- 20 more people injured, a village wrecked.
- Only the high street.
- A mile away from the route of the motorway.
- Half a mile.
- A Member of Parliament devoured by lions.
- I didn't fill his grounds with lions! Didn't you? I'm no longer sure.
Then the army is brought in to evict a German No, don't say it.
a German gardener from his home with machine guns and anti-tank weapons.
- I didn't tell them - Get out, Dundridge! You're sacked.
Fired! Densher, get me the PM.
Out! And the motorway? Can it continue? I hardly think so now, with another by-election coming up.
- Thank you, sir.
- Mr Dundridge? - Yes? - You're under arrest.
The Chief Constable of South Worfordshire has issued a warrant.
I've got a car outside.
I was most impressed with Mr Blott's command of English on TV yesterday.
- Wasn't he good on English traditions? - An Englishman's home is his castle.
The need to stand up for traditional values.
He's a national hero! Don't you think it pretty poor when we have to rely on a foreigner to look after our interests? - I'd hardly say that! - I would! Without him, we'd all have lost our homes.
- We've lost ours already.
- And poor Ivy Bullett-Finch.
- You can hardly blame Blott for that.
- No, of course.
The point I'm making, however, is that I believe there's a tangible way we can show our gratitude to Blott.
- What's that? - Propose him as candidate in the by-election.
What? An Eyetie?! He's not Italian! He's German.
Or Czech.
Or Spanish.
Or something like that.
- Anyway, he's a nationalised Englishman.
- Naturalised.
Nationalised means state-controlled.
Blott's hardly that.
Exactly.
So do we agree that Blott should represent the party at the by-election? - I second the proposal.
- And me, too.
The motion.
All those in favour? - Blott? Blott! - Yes, lady? You needn't stay there any longer.
They won't do anything now.
Besides, I've got some news for you! Right, then.
Come up, lady! Ooh! Oh, my Lord! - Do you think I can? - Of course! Come.
Come now.
That's good.
Yes.
You're safe.
It's all right.
Come, come.
Oh, crikey.
Oh, dear.
There they are.
Yes.
I thought so.
We'd better bury those, hm? - You know that? - "You knew it.
" - You knew it? - You'd better do more work on your English.
Now that you've been chosen to succeed Sir Giles.
Who? We're putting you up for Parliament.
Oh.
Did you think I meant something else? Did you? I was going to offer that, too.
If you want it.
Handyman Hall needs a new master.
Oh, I Mein Liebling! (ORGAN PLAYS "RULE BRITANNIA") Ah, ladies.
- Oh, hello.
- Oh, what a woman! Marrying her gardener and putting him straight up for Parliament.
His maiden speech was an outstanding success.
He may become a Whip.
Oh, really? I used to be one of those.
I don't think I'd recommend it, really.
I suppose you're going to be all alone now, Mrs Forthby? You're going to need some very considered advice, aren't you? With all that money.
I wondered had you thought of remarriage? Oh! Quite a brilliant chap, for an Eyetie.
Always did wonder what his regiment was.
- Maud's quite delighted.
Never chirpier.
- It's come out for the best.
Quite.
Amazing how well Sir Giles timed his death.
Eh? You're not suggesting? A man like that, getting cornered on his own estate? Right in front of all of us? Mind you, he always did say life was a jungle.
Dog eat dog.
- You don't really suppose? - Oh, not at all.
But these old families don't survive by chance.
They find survivors who help them survive.
- By God, how they survive! - Where would we be without them? Well, you've made a very good start, 58295.
You've made a good job of re-cataloguing the library.
Yes.
It was Dewey decimal.
Now it's Dundridge digit.
With remission for good behaviour, you should be out in nine months.
Carry on in this way, we'll transfer you to an open prison.
I don't want to go to an open prison.
I've always hated nature.
Trees and churches, gardens and animals, I've always hated it.
- But they all want - No, really.
I'm happy here.
The walls, the bars.
The days repeating themselves, the endless absurd rules.
- Very well, Dundridge.
- There is just one thing, Governor.
I've worked out a more efficient scheme for the exercise yard.
A treadmill worked by electricity.
It's very simple.
Two belts, one moving No, Dundridge.
I don't think so.
We could put it together here.
All I need is half a dozen men.
No.
Thank you.
(APPLAUSE) My dear, it seems such a pity to spoil it.
You should have thought of that before, shouldn't you? Smile! Say cheese! Emmenthal.
A couple more.
You must have photographs.
Yes, my dear.
Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! My lords, ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Worford, officers of the Crown, friends, constituents, party workers, loyal servants, fellow Englishmen and English women.
It is not every day a man has the good fortune to marry his mistress! And it is not every Handyman who really has been a handyman.
People wonder sometimes who is this Blott? How did he get here? Does he have a strange history? Well, we all have a past.
And already I am forgetting mine.
Because here I have a better past at Handyman Hall.
I am proud to belong to a family who has lived in this gorge for 500 years.
A very great English family.
And I mean to make sure now that we will live on here for 500 years more! - Don't you say so, Maud? - Yes, I do! You can start tonight! I will, my friend.
I will.
It's safe now.
Find his car, put it in the garage and remove that thing that goes round.
- The rotor arm, lady? - Make sure he can't use any of the other cars.
Double-padlock all the gates.
We don't want innocent people wandering about with all these dangerous animals.
Do you understand, Blott? Exactly.
So perhaps you don't wish me to feed the lions this morning? Quite.
Let nature take its course.
After all, Giles always did believe in the law of the jungle.
I don't believe it.
I just don't believe it.
What on earth?! Is your name Dundridge, sir? - It is, yes.
- The Chief Constable would like a word.
Murder? Murder? How can you possibly talk about murder? - You're calling it an accident? - It had nothing to do Person or persons unknown deliberately take a large crane and then pulverise a house in which two innocent people are sleeping.
The householder dies, his wife is catapulted into the rose bed.
This you designate an accident? You're saying that I took a crane? No.
I'm saying this crime is a little bit more oblique than that.
The person responsible issued the orders.
- For murder you have to have a motive.
- I'm glad you mentioned that.
Would you or would you not say your relations with Mr Bullett-Finch were marked by well, an unusual degree of animosity? Certainly not.
Constable, pass me that notebook.
I have here a quote from a source that's prepared to testify.
According to this source, you said the following over the telephone when Mr Bullett-Finch rang to complain.
"If you don't stop pestering me, man, "I'll personally see to it you lose a damn sight more "than a quarter of an acre off your bleeding garden.
" Did you or did you not say that, Mr Dundridge? Well, I may have done.
There are no formal charges at the moment.
If you don't mind, we'll keep you within our facility until further evidence is amassed.
You may, of course, avail yourself of the services of your lawyer.
I'm afraid it's only cereal, Blott.
The electricity's off.
I phoned Worford.
They said the transformer's blown up in Gilstead Carbonell.
How strange.
- And Giles? Where's he just now? - Up a tree.
You can see from the window.
(PHONE RINGS) Handyman Hall.
What is it, General? This is utterly appalling! Blott! They've demolished Gilstead Carbonell and killed Mr Bullett-Finch! - Really? - Yes, you'd all better come over here at once.
The estate's rather locked up this morning.
Hoot three times at the gates and Blott will let you in.
See you in a minute.
How horrible! Look.
He's making a run for the garage.
Don't worry.
The cars are fixed.
I go after him.
Perhaps it's time we let him go.
Hmm.
I don't think so.
(ENGINE SPLUTTERS) Blott! You've got to let me out of here! Get out.
Go back.
L5,000.
All you've got to do is open the gates.
You could have saved this fine English house, but you didn't like it.
- L10,000.
L20,000.
Anything! - So I don't like your money.
Now, get out of this garage.
I count to ten.
One.
- L50,000.
- Two.
- L100,000! - Three.
Terrible way to go, having a dashed great iron ball smash you to smithereens.
Probably like a gigantic cannonball.
(MISS PERCIVAL) There's a man up a tree! - You're seeing things.
- There is! There's a man up a tree! Why would a man be up a tree? Up here! Help! I think we have to begin by offering formal condolences to Ivy Bullett-Finch.
Indeed, I've tried to ring her, but I got no reply.
- Yes, well, the house is knocked down.
- (BOTH) Ours, too.
And to all of you who have suffered in Gilstead Carbonell.
However, there is this much to be said for it.
It puts us all in a much stronger position with the Ministry of the Environment and this infernal motorway.
- Now that Mr Dundridge is in custody.
- Excuse me! The Chief Constable phoned.
He's keeping me abreast of events.
Turns out Dundridge had nothing to do with it.
Apparently there was a shindig at the Royal George last night.
A couple of navvies had too much strong beer.
Beer? Did you say beer? Oh, no insult intended to the Handyman product, but that's what these fellows drink.
Then they topped it up with vodka.
- They found the bottle in the cab of the crane.
- Where's Blott? (SIR GILES) Help! Help! It's not Blott we need, it's Sir Giles! He's the only one who can do anything now.
- He's in an ideal position.
- Up here! It's time he made his presence felt.
- I quite agree.
- I quite agree, too.
- The thing is, if only he'd raise his voice.
- Aaaaargh! - Good God! What was that? - Aaaaaieee! It's Sir Giles! Raising his voice! Ohh! Good God.
A lion's got him.
- Bloody lot of good that'll do! - You stay here.
This is not going to be pretty.
It's eaten him? Ohh! Better go myself.
It's safer out there.
At the third stroke it will be 3.
10 precisely.
Dear me.
3.
10.
At the third (RADIO) After the talks, the peace envoy believed a permanent settlement had been reached in the Middle East.
Sir Giles Lynchwood, Member of Parliament and property developer, died at his home, Handyman Hall, near Worford when he was eaten by a lion in the estate's wildlife park.
In Arizona, a freak whirlwind destroyed Giles! If I had just got up and got him his breakfast, he might still be alive.
I know how you feel, Lady Maud.
My deepest condolences.
We didn't always see eye to eye, but it's still a very great shock.
At least I'm taking away the remains.
That's one worry off your mind.
I'm afraid there'll have to be an inquest.
Is that absolutely necessary? After all, it's quite clear what must have happened.
Giles came back to do his duty and didn't know about the animals.
General Burnett and Colonel Chapman witnessed everything.
Just a formality, my lady.
Bad smell of oil here.
Trouble with the central heating? Yes, I think there is a leak somewhere.
I've always got Blott to fix it for me.
- Try and bear up, Lady Maud.
- Yes, I will.
Blott! Blott! I want a word with you! - Is nearly fixed.
- Blott, do you realise what you've done? - He was going to burn down your house.
- I'm not talking about that.
Although he was my husband.
I'm talking about Mr Bullett-Finch.
- The little one who liked his lawn? - He's dead, Blott! Killed last night when his house was demolished.
That is quite a pity.
Is that all you've got to say? I didn't know he was in the house! Like you didn't know that one would be eaten by those lions! If I'd known what you were up to, I'd never have written that note to the brewery.
- You tell me off? - That's right, Blott! I'm telling you off! What the devil's been going on, Dundridge? - On? - A man living quietly in the country is battered to death with an iron ball belonging to our contractors? An entire village destroyed by our men? Dundridge, the property-owning classes support this government.
We don't want them thinking it's our custom to demolish their homes without any warning.
While they're fast asleep inside.
We appointed you, Dundridge, for your tact.
Your skill at dealing with press and public.
Now you're behaving like the worst kind of bureaucratic upstart.
You do not understand, Minister.
I have tried tact, the soft touch.
- You do not realise what I am up against.
- What's that? - That woman.
- Which woman? I'm trying to build a nice motorway through the estate of a woman whose idea of tact is first to try and seduce me.
Really? Really Who? - Lady Maud.
- Takes potshots at me with a 12-bore! Blackmails me! And then blocks the way with animals that gobbled up her husband! Yes, poor Sir Giles.
A rough diamond at times, a bit wild at the end, but I was fond of him.
- Sorry to miss his memorial service.
- I expect she arranged his death, too! She'd do anything to stop the motorway.
And now there's a by-election! That's another one in the eye for poor old J Dundridge! Dundridge, you don't think you're getting too overwrought? Finding the strain too much for you? If you don't trust my judgment, Minister, there's only one thing I can do.
Resign.
Come back to my desk here.
Rejoin your team.
Ah.
I don't think we need go that far.
- Can't you just play it carefully for a bit? - Head down, avoid unfavourable publicity.
On one condition.
That Handyman Hall is demolished as quickly as possible.
- That poor woman's still in public mourning.
- Think of the press.
- "Weeping widow watches home destroyed.
" - The only way.
Then leave it a week.
Do it tactfully, for God's sake! Leave not a trace behind.
Thank you, Minister.
Are you sure that went the right way, Minister? Nice ceremony, Blott.
(BLOTT) Always good, English ceremonies.
Blott, I think I owe you an apology.
I've not properly appreciated what you've done for me.
My father was right to bring you back, whatever the circumstances.
- I wouldn't have managed without you.
- Oh, it was nothing.
You know how I care for you and that house.
Well, we fought the good fight, but we've lost.
They've taken away the animals and they'll take me away when I come out of mourning.
OK, we stop them.
- Blott, we've tried everything.
- OK, leave it to me.
- You, Blott? - Yes, lady, if you let me have some money.
Money's no problem.
But I don't want any more violence! There's been quite enough of that.
I could hardly look Ivy Bullett-Finch in the eye.
Mind you, she squints.
Do go in, dear lady.
A sad occasion.
I thought port today.
It helps.
Yes, I always feel these events would be totally cheerless were it not for the will.
And, on this occasion, rather a good one.
- Really? - Yes.
Sir Giles's property investments proved vastly greater than any of us could have supposed.
I suppose you've not heard of something called "offshore"? - Well, the old devil! - Quite! Quite! - And it all reverts to you.
- How much? Let's just say a fortune, Lady Maud.
A right royal fortune.
- Here's to it.
- That does improve a gloomy day.
- Bottoms up! - Yes, indeed.
Precisely.
Of course, you're going to need some very considered advice.
So, now, let us see what we have got here.
Very good.
We have 400 concrete blocks.
We have Yes.
40 six-foot reinforcing rods, 200 yards barbed wire and 60 tons cement.
Much to offer, I assure you.
Much to offer.
Oh, do get up, Mr Ganglion! At your age! You won't do better anywhere else, Maud.
I always feel, by nature, there's something profoundly intimate between a solicitor and his client.
And what exactly do you mean by that? We see our clients in their light and their shadow.
Things come our way.
These, for instance, brought to me a few days ago.
Rather repulsive, as you see, but I think you've seen them before.
It WAS Dundridge! The little swine lied to me! - How did YOU get them? - He brought them to me.
Said you were blackmailing him with them.
Me?! He accused me of blackmail and you believed him?! Of course not.
Acting in your interest, I dismissed him forthwith.
Filthy little beast! I'll make him regret the day he was born! Lady Maud, we could sue him for slander! Together! All I ask, Chief Constable, is your full support should the residents of Handyman Hall fail to move out.
We don't want a repetition of last time.
We don't want another mistake like that again.
Do we? No.
A quick change of tune there.
Take a look at yourself! You filthy swine! Now what have you got to say for yourself? - I've already told you - There's no use calling Mr Ganglion! I'm calling the Chief Constable.
I intend to have you charged! The police?! Give me that! You! Quick! Stop her! - You despicable swine! - Get her! Vile! Treating the Handymans like this! I'll sue you for every penny you've got! You heard her.
She intended to blackmail me again.
- Where are those photographs? - Oh, I burned them.
- Didn't think you'd want them lying around.
- They were evidence.
No, no, no, they're better gone.
- You could always be a witness.
- Yes, I suppose I could.
Right, Hoskins, that settles it.
We move into Handyman Hall on Monday.
Lawks! - Blott, what's happened? - They have delivered the things already.
I think it is better we leave the cars outside now.
Soon it'll be impossible to get through.
You mind to walk to the Hall? It's going to be very inconvenient.
- I hope you know what you're doing, Blott.
- Oh, yes.
It starts.
Mr Blott! Send for the Chief Constable.
Get that barbed wire down, remove those gates.
Quickly.
You and you, tidy my office.
Quickly! - What's happened? - That Blott has barricaded himself in and blocked the road! Right, lift! What is the meaning of this?! - Good morning, Lady Maud.
- No, it isn't! This is private property.
- Will you all kindly leave? - These men are here to begin work.
You are in receipt of a compulsory purchase order.
Served to you on 25th June.
They are entirely within their rights.
I want them off my land.
Sorry as I am to say it, dear lady, they are fully entitled to act in this way.
You may not hinder them.
Now, will you kindly instruct Mr Blott to vacate the premises? - Tell him yourself! - He appears to have barricaded himself in.
We don't want to use force, Lady Maud.
Let's settle this sensibly.
It's got nothing to do with me.
If you want to use force, you'd better go ahead and use it.
Very well.
Get sledgehammers.
Batter down that door.
(BANGING) Here, here.
Good boy.
It's no good, sir.
He's cemented himself in.
It IS his home.
Mr Blott? Mr Blott! This is the Chief Constable of South Worfordshire! Can you hear me? Indicate if you can hear me.
You are in breach of the law, Mr Blott.
I require you to come down and give yourself up now.
No one will hurt you.
And no charges will be pressed.
(MUSIC: "RULE BRITANNIA") Very well, Mr Blott.
Then further action will be taken.
Have you any bright ideas? Suppose we demolish the arch with him in it? Mr Dundridge, I think you might have learned from the incident with Mr Bullett-Finch.
If you want to face a murder or manslaughter charge, that's up to you.
I think we'd better try more usual procedures.
I knew the bitch would come up with something.
- Do you know any way to demolish it? - Not if he doesn't want us to.
That man is a lunatic! You're not feeling under any sort of stress? No.
And you? - And you're getting enough to eat? - There's enough here for two years.
- You want supper? - What is it YOU want, Mr Blott? - Tell us.
- No motorway.
You must understand, everything I love is here.
I don't want one, do you see? I gather you're a foreigner, Mr Blott.
Would you do this sort of thing at home? You think I'm a foreigner?! You think I don't care about this place?! Here is home! I came here when things were bad for me.
Nowhere to go.
Perhaps it is even more home! And I want to keep it! Just like this! He seems quite a normal He seems quite a normal person to me.
I'm going to talk to the Ministry.
They like me to consult them, you know.
He's barred himself in, filled the bottom rooms with concrete, got food for days.
There's barbed wire on the roof.
There is no way to get him out.
It does sound as if he intends a long stay.
What about the police? - Useless! - Fire Brigade? - Won't do it.
- Then what do you suggest? The SAS.
Densher, let me understand.
You're seriously proposing to me that we bring in the SAS to get some little chap out of some little shack in order to build a motorway? - Whose idea was this? - Well, in the first instance, Dundridge.
Very well.
But on the explicit understanding they're used only in a police support role.
Don't use firearms.
They simply enter the place and hold the chap until the police evict him in the proper manner.
Is that understood? Certainly, Minister.
I'll get on to Defence at once.
Mr Dundridge? Major Templeton.
Ah, splendid.
You'll be pleased to hear I've done a bit of early reconnaissance.
- Oh, really? - Yes.
Photographs of the target.
Two means of access - upstairs windows on either side.
And a hatch in the roof.
Probably the best method of attack is a diversionary move to the rear and then a frontal assault.
- I I think you can safely leave the tactics to me.
Everyone to his business, eh? I believe yours is digging roads.
- I was only trying to help.
- I'd be glad if you civvies would just clear out.
Argh! Aaargh! - What's the blighter got? Flares? - Flashgun.
Casualty, sir.
Strickland's broken his leg.
This man's a fiend.
Ow! God! Oh! (BLOTT) You gentlemen are wanting something? - Try the grappling irons.
- Yes, sir.
Any more like to come up? Don't do anything! We'd like to tend our wounded! Two broken legs, one collarbone and a sprained ankle and Figgis has gone sick, sir.
Typical desk-wallah job, this.
Send men in under-equipped against overwhelming odds Orders, sir? Are we going back in? My God! - What was that? - Bren gun and mortar fire, sir.
He's got an army down there! (LADYMAUD) I want the Chief Constable! Percy, come at once! They've murdered him! They've attacked the lodge and killed him! - Killed who? - Blott! They're using machine guns.
And something much bigger! Ah! Reinforcements! Thank God you've arrived.
Those devils down there have wounded four of my men.
- Who are you? What are you doing here? - Major Templeton, sir.
SAS.
- Special secret mission, sir.
Very hush-hush.
- I'm Chief Constable and I know of no mission.
That's funny, sir.
I thought everyone knew about it.
I want all your lot down at the police station for questioning! Isn't that ridiculous, sir? We're in a police support role.
There are none of my men within miles.
I never asked for the SAS to come and blow a man up! We didn't, sir! Honestly! We haven't got any weapons.
The firing started after we made our tactical withdrawal.
You get all your men down to the station.
By the way, who did you liaise with here? A civil servant chap by the name of Dundridge, sir.
Ahh, that explains it.
The Lebanon? A war-weary South American republic? Far from it.
A pleasant little corner of rural England.
A foreign army? A terrorist gang? No, just one ordinary little man angry at the destruction of his home to build the controversial M399 motorway.
Mr Blott? Tell us about the attack.
Well I am asleep, you see.
And I hear the noise.
And I open the window to look out and I see men climbing up my wall, the army men.
And I don't want it, so I pour oil down the wall.
Oil, Mr Blott? Not hot oil? Of course not! No time to hot it.
Cooking oil.
Now they are not coming up any more.
They are sliding down.
And next begins the firing.
- They really began firing on you? - Yes! Minister.
I heard explosions.
Things were flying about, so I just lie on the floor until it stops.
And now you see how is here my house.
But I need it.
It is still mine.
An Englishman's home is, I think, still his castle.
I want Dundridge here.
Immediately.
- I feel I have achieved - I'll tell you.
A series of quite appalling disasters.
A retired gentleman pulped to death by a crazed demolition expert.
- 20 more people injured, a village wrecked.
- Only the high street.
- A mile away from the route of the motorway.
- Half a mile.
- A Member of Parliament devoured by lions.
- I didn't fill his grounds with lions! Didn't you? I'm no longer sure.
Then the army is brought in to evict a German No, don't say it.
a German gardener from his home with machine guns and anti-tank weapons.
- I didn't tell them - Get out, Dundridge! You're sacked.
Fired! Densher, get me the PM.
Out! And the motorway? Can it continue? I hardly think so now, with another by-election coming up.
- Thank you, sir.
- Mr Dundridge? - Yes? - You're under arrest.
The Chief Constable of South Worfordshire has issued a warrant.
I've got a car outside.
I was most impressed with Mr Blott's command of English on TV yesterday.
- Wasn't he good on English traditions? - An Englishman's home is his castle.
The need to stand up for traditional values.
He's a national hero! Don't you think it pretty poor when we have to rely on a foreigner to look after our interests? - I'd hardly say that! - I would! Without him, we'd all have lost our homes.
- We've lost ours already.
- And poor Ivy Bullett-Finch.
- You can hardly blame Blott for that.
- No, of course.
The point I'm making, however, is that I believe there's a tangible way we can show our gratitude to Blott.
- What's that? - Propose him as candidate in the by-election.
What? An Eyetie?! He's not Italian! He's German.
Or Czech.
Or Spanish.
Or something like that.
- Anyway, he's a nationalised Englishman.
- Naturalised.
Nationalised means state-controlled.
Blott's hardly that.
Exactly.
So do we agree that Blott should represent the party at the by-election? - I second the proposal.
- And me, too.
The motion.
All those in favour? - Blott? Blott! - Yes, lady? You needn't stay there any longer.
They won't do anything now.
Besides, I've got some news for you! Right, then.
Come up, lady! Ooh! Oh, my Lord! - Do you think I can? - Of course! Come.
Come now.
That's good.
Yes.
You're safe.
It's all right.
Come, come.
Oh, crikey.
Oh, dear.
There they are.
Yes.
I thought so.
We'd better bury those, hm? - You know that? - "You knew it.
" - You knew it? - You'd better do more work on your English.
Now that you've been chosen to succeed Sir Giles.
Who? We're putting you up for Parliament.
Oh.
Did you think I meant something else? Did you? I was going to offer that, too.
If you want it.
Handyman Hall needs a new master.
Oh, I Mein Liebling! (ORGAN PLAYS "RULE BRITANNIA") Ah, ladies.
- Oh, hello.
- Oh, what a woman! Marrying her gardener and putting him straight up for Parliament.
His maiden speech was an outstanding success.
He may become a Whip.
Oh, really? I used to be one of those.
I don't think I'd recommend it, really.
I suppose you're going to be all alone now, Mrs Forthby? You're going to need some very considered advice, aren't you? With all that money.
I wondered had you thought of remarriage? Oh! Quite a brilliant chap, for an Eyetie.
Always did wonder what his regiment was.
- Maud's quite delighted.
Never chirpier.
- It's come out for the best.
Quite.
Amazing how well Sir Giles timed his death.
Eh? You're not suggesting? A man like that, getting cornered on his own estate? Right in front of all of us? Mind you, he always did say life was a jungle.
Dog eat dog.
- You don't really suppose? - Oh, not at all.
But these old families don't survive by chance.
They find survivors who help them survive.
- By God, how they survive! - Where would we be without them? Well, you've made a very good start, 58295.
You've made a good job of re-cataloguing the library.
Yes.
It was Dewey decimal.
Now it's Dundridge digit.
With remission for good behaviour, you should be out in nine months.
Carry on in this way, we'll transfer you to an open prison.
I don't want to go to an open prison.
I've always hated nature.
Trees and churches, gardens and animals, I've always hated it.
- But they all want - No, really.
I'm happy here.
The walls, the bars.
The days repeating themselves, the endless absurd rules.
- Very well, Dundridge.
- There is just one thing, Governor.
I've worked out a more efficient scheme for the exercise yard.
A treadmill worked by electricity.
It's very simple.
Two belts, one moving No, Dundridge.
I don't think so.
We could put it together here.
All I need is half a dozen men.
No.
Thank you.
(APPLAUSE) My dear, it seems such a pity to spoil it.
You should have thought of that before, shouldn't you? Smile! Say cheese! Emmenthal.
A couple more.
You must have photographs.
Yes, my dear.
Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! My lords, ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Worford, officers of the Crown, friends, constituents, party workers, loyal servants, fellow Englishmen and English women.
It is not every day a man has the good fortune to marry his mistress! And it is not every Handyman who really has been a handyman.
People wonder sometimes who is this Blott? How did he get here? Does he have a strange history? Well, we all have a past.
And already I am forgetting mine.
Because here I have a better past at Handyman Hall.
I am proud to belong to a family who has lived in this gorge for 500 years.
A very great English family.
And I mean to make sure now that we will live on here for 500 years more! - Don't you say so, Maud? - Yes, I do! You can start tonight! I will, my friend.
I will.