Bermondsey, South London.
Today, this is one of the most expensive parts of the capital, full of swish apartment blocks
and achingly modern architecture.
You'd have to have a nice few quid to live here now.
But it wasn't always like that.
When I grew up here, back in the 70s...
There are council flats and corner shops, factories and bomb sites.
It's beaten up and run down and nobody has got any money.
But it doesn't matter. This is Bermondsey, South London, where I'm from.
Ripped By mstoll
Turn that racket off! I can't keep count here!
What? It's Atomic Rooster.
It's Atomic Rooster. Do you hear that, Bet? It's Atomic Rooster!
Lovely. We'll have two of them next time, eh, Fred?
Here... What you got on your nut?
An activist's hat. John Lennon wears one.
- You give it back. You're not going out like that. - Why not?
Why not? Cos you look like a big ginger beer, that's why not.
Take it off your head and give it back to your mother. She can dry up with it. Danny!
Don't your mates want none of these footballs cluttering the house up?
- They've all bought one. - Bought one? Tell 'em to buy another one!
You've got to knock 'em out.
I've got 300 pairs of Wellington boots coming the day after tomorrow.
This pump's poxed as well!
Home was Number 11, Debnams Road, London, SE16.
It was always full of "stuff". Some items more readily shiftable than others.
For a short while, one of dad's most popular items was continental quilts.
Here you go. That's it. Pass them on.
It was like living inside an enormous bag of marshmallows.
For days, my sister, Sharon, and brother, Michael, couldn't get into their bedrooms.
Michael!
Take that bleedin' cap off.
Fred, we can't go on living like this.
I've got nowhere to put my feet! Gawd knows where the bleedin' dog is.
I'm sorting it all out. They'll be gone by the weekend, girl.
- Oh! - Get out of it!
And they were.
- Hi. - All right?
Thanks very much. See ya, love.
Bye.
To be replaced by...
and...
...or once, as I remember...
This was Spud's economy. A kingdom where no detail was overlooked.
What you doing?
Don't do that to me when I am doing this.
I'm straightening the electric out.
I thought we already had it straightened.
Well, I'm making it completely straight.
Fred, unless that wheel turns a bit, it looks like we don't use no electricity in this house.
That's all right.
If the bloke calls round, we'll have Michael answer the door and say we're all hippies.
Bollocks! I dropped me putty now.
The phone's been cut off again. Have you got any plans for that?
Yeah. I've told Sharon to tell them I've had a heart attack and it's essential.
So they'll have to put it back on. Hold my torch for me, will ya?
I have been holding a torch for you a long time, Freddy Baker.
You watch it don't go out.
There you go, that's lovely that.
The putty's sticking out on that side.
- Well, it don't have to be tidy. - You can see it, Fred.
For God's sake!
- Argh! What the fuck? - Fred!
Stop the wheel! Stop the wheel! Every turn's a fuckin' tenner!
I ain't touching it. Oh, Fred!
I wish I could tell you that dad was a legitimate importer/exporter.
In fact, he was a docker.
And, as a result, quite a few ships left our ports a little lighter than they should have.
You sure we can drink this?
I promise you. Methanol is the same as alcohol. It's what they make it from.
It's the same family. It's the "ohol" bit.
- What you talking about? It's not "alcanol", is it? - Trust me, Spud. It's booze.
Look. Must be on its way to a German distillery.
In that case, I think we're entitled to a bit of export tax, don't you?
- Eugh! - What's it like?
- Fuckin' hell! - Can you still see us, Spud?
It's not a bad drop that.
Whoo, it's not. Handsimonious that.
Go and get a hose. We'll siphon it off.
Know what I think that is? I think that's what they call Schnapps.
I had Schnapps in Frankfurt, when I was in the Army.
I think the Krauts might have won the War if they'd laid off this stuff.
Here we go.
It was embalming fluid. I'd like to say he still didn't bottle it up
and sell it round Bermondsey, but I've never been 100% certain.
And so to the night Colin, my sister Sharon's boyfriend,
was coming round to our place for the first time.
I think I'll meet Colin at the top of the street, Mum.
Don't be so silly. You're building it up too much.
And I've told your dad not to embarrass you.
- He won't be wearing them plimsolls, will he? - I don't know! I told him not to.
Oi, Oi. Where's he going?
- Out with Sharon. - What? With her and Steamboat Bill?
He's called Colin. And I wish he wasn't coming round.
He's all right, Sharon. Your father makes a lot of noise but he ain't gonna do nothing, are you?
Me? Anyway, where's he taking her? Go and see Joey Hendrix?
Jimi Hendrix. And he's dead.
All right. Don't you start.
Just cos I let you have one orange jacket. What did I tell you about how he's turning out?
- They're taking Danny to the theatre. I told you. - Yeah. The one where they all strip off!
- Yeah, it's a protest musical. It's political. - Political? Does he know they get it all out?
That's just paper talk. It ain't nothing like that.
I hoped it wasn't paper talk. I'd been thinking about nothing else for two weeks.
- I'll get that. - Fred.
All right, all right. I'm not a crackpot.
Hello, Mr Baker, I'm Colin.
- Well, you can fuck off for a start! - Fred!
What?
- I'm Colin. - Sure you're not Andy Capp?
I've er... I've come to pick Sharon up.
Oh, no, the only thing you'll be picking up dressed like that
is your nose off the pavement if you don't shift, son.
Oh, leave him alone!
Hello. Don't mind him, he don't mean it.
Don't I? You think I'm letting a daughter of mine
walk out with some soapy fucker in plimsolls, you got another think coming.
I'll meet you by the bus stop.
Oi, Oi. I'll be up there myself in a couple of minutes.
If you're still there you're going under the next double decker.
For God's sake, Dad!
What did you have to talk to him like that for?
- Well... - We're still going, aren't we?
Plimsolls.
Shall I just wait here?
I don't know. I don't know where he is.
Sharon. Sharon.
Colin...
- What are you doing over here? - Are you on your own?
He won't really throw you under a bus.
- He's a bloody maniac, your dad. - He don't mean any of that.
Well, why does he say it, then?
Anyway, what were you wearing them poxy plimsolls for? I told you not to.
Ain't you got any other shoes?
A pair of Persian slippers and some orange desert boots.
Fair enough. Come on.
I had actually been quietly crushed by Dad's reaction.
You see, I absolutely idolised Colin and I loved how he looked. Even his plimsolls.
- What's wrong with plimsolls anyway? - What's wrong with you?
Me and my mates could only dream of gear like Colin's.
With the end of year disco looming, the peak of our fashion ambition
was a pair of two-tone tonic trousers.
- Do you reckon they'll still have 'em next week? - I ain't got no chance. I've only got a pound.
- Ain't my birthday till March. - What you gonna be, six?
Ohhh, six! Least I got a mum.
I ain't getting 'em in plum and blue. Everyone gets plum and blue.
They don't do our size in turquoise and golds.
- They do. I've seen 'em. - No, you ain't.
Oi, oi. What's this? Tramps' outing?
- Hello, Len. What you got? - Pair of tonics.
You're joking? Show us.
Oi, oi, oi! Off the cloth, Moth.
I told you they did 'em in turquoise and gold in our size.
They don't any more. These are the last ones.
- What do you mean? - Old man Nelson marked my card, didn't he?
That's it. They ain't making 'em in our size any more.
What? They're the last pair?
They got loads of plum and blue left. Thousands.
Now, unlike you mo's, I've got a load of birds to shag.
So... er... you drop... back!
I think plum and blue are the best. Especially with the lighting in here.
Yeah.
What are you all dressed the same for?
Cos these are in.
Plum and blue? Lenny Byart's got a pair of turquoise and gold.
- Yeah, we know. - He's taking Marion Chivers out on Wednesday.
What? I didn't know he was going out with Marion.
He wasn't. But he's got a pair of turquoise and golds now.
- Yeah. - Here, I'm asking her out.
What? Amanda Bold? You ain't got no chance, mate.
- No, no, I think she likes me. - She don't.
Aye, aye.
- Len, where are your turquoise and golds? - I'm not gonna waste 'em here, am I?
You all look the same, you divaloes.
And that's West Ham's colours. Drop...
back!
Len, Len, I need to ask you something. I've got to borrow your turquoise and golds.
Get lost, mate. No chance. I ain't worn 'em myself yet.
Do us this one favour. Come on.
Remember when I let you shoot me in the arse with that air pistol?
I'm gonna ask out Amanda Bold, see, Len.
And all you need to do is borrow 'em to me for two hours. Then it's guaranteed, then.
You're mental. I'm not gonna lend you trousers when I ain't even worn 'em myself.
Oh, come on. You've got to. I'll give you a pound.
- I... I... I don't want a pound. - I'll give you five pound.
You ain't got five pound!
All right. I'll give you a pound. Come on.
They're only gonna be hanging up in your house.
- A pound? For two hours? - Just while I ask her out.
All right.
Lenny's reluctance was unusual.
People on the estate were normally quite happy to help each other out.
- Freddie... Fred... - Floating...
Freddie, can you help Lil out?
Why? What's the matter?
- Radio Rentals say they're taking our telly back. - Where's Wal?
He's gone out. He'll have the right hump about it.
The Avengers is on tonight. He likes that.
Right.
Yes?
From Radio Rentals. I'm sorry but I've come to take the set back.
Oh, gawd. Erm... I suppose you'd better come in, then.
- Who's this? - It's Radio Rentals.
This is my husband Walter. The man's come to...
- I've come to repossess the set. - You what?
- Stand aside, sir. It's our property. - Sorry, Wally.
- How long has she been missing payments? - Eight weeks.
- Oooh! - I'm really sorry, honestly, I am.
I'm sure you are... now.
I've been giving her money but she's been spending it.
- Well, it was only on food, Wally. - Bollocks to food!
She's been up the bingo with it. Here, go on, take the thing. Take it.
Sorry about this, mate. I can't apologise enough.
And as soon as you're out that door, mate, I'll knock it out of her!
- Please, Wally! I didn't mean to. - No, and I won't mean to neither!
- Not in front of the man, Wally. - He won't save ya.
Wait a minute, Mr Shaw. I don't want this to get nasty.
- You clear off. I'll sort this myself. - No, please, please.
I don't want to cause any ructions. I can't leave it like this.
How about I go back and have a word about extending your credit?
Oh, could you? Oh, that would be marvellous, mister.
What if I were to do that, sir?
Well, you can pay for it, out of your housekeeping cos I'm not paying twice.
Yes, Wally, straight I will.
Go on, then. Put it back.
Argh!
Actually, could I try it over there? I've always wanted to move it.
Actually, I did like it better where it was.
Here, there you go, mate. There's five bob for your aggravation.
Oh, thank you very much!
Hey, hey!
Oh, Freddie, you are murder. He thought you was gonna kill me.
Only thing that gets knocked is Radio Rentals!
- Should see you right for a couple of months. - Oh, ta, love.
The nearest thing we had to a youth centre was a creepy street of abandoned old houses,
locally known as Mud Island.
Why? Because they were literally sinking into the rotten Rotherhithe mud.
- Yeah, there's shit in here somewhere. - Always is in old houses.
I reckon Teddy Dunderdale's been in here again.
Always leaves one behind. It's his trademark.
- Where's Martin? - Lenny's dropping the trousers round.
- He ain't really borrowing 'em, is he? - Yeah. Paid a pound to use 'em.
Lenny told me it was a fiver.
Why would he pay a fiver when they only cost two twenty-five?
- Turquoise and gold. - Amanda Bold.
- He won't get hold of Amanda Bold. - No-one gets hold of her.
Turquoise and gold, Amanda Bold.
- Oi! You up there? - That's Martin.
Sssh!
Here, don't muck about. What room you in?
Wooo-oooo...
Yeah, yeah, all right. Where are ya?
You up here?
What room?
Maaaaartin!
Don't muck about, it's boring. What room you in?
Is it this one?
Ssshhh.
Come on, you mo's. I ain't got time for this.
Martin, we're in here.
Mart?
What was that noise?
Martin?
Oh, shit.
Martin! Martin! Martin! Martin!
- Mart? - He ain't moving.
Shit.
Other than a few pets, this was our first proper experience of death.
We hadn't quite mastered grief either.
- Dickie was crying! - No, I'm not!
Oi! Shut up! It's Martin's auntie.
Hi.
- Len, what's up? - Do you reckon his mum brought me trousers?
- Oh, shut up about your trousers! - Well, when can I ask for 'em back?
Not today. Have some respect.
You're gonna have to wait at least another week.
Too late. I'm going out with Amanda Bold on Friday.
Amanda? Thought you was going out with Marion Chivers.
I am.
How comes you're going out with Amanda Bold?
He not going out with her now, is he?
Oh, mate.
Would you boys like to come in and pay your respects now?
Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Be strong. We're all in shock.
Me strides! Me strides!
He can't go down the hole in me strides. Not me turquoise and golds!
Turquoise and gold, down the hole. Turquoise and gold, down the hole.
So, anyway, there I was with Colin and Sharon,
sitting in the West End waiting for loads of actresses to start prancing about in the nude.
This had to go better than the last time I attempted to see a female in a state of undress.
Whenever my nan went on holiday, it was my job to go round
and feed her goldfish and her budgie.
In the process, I worked out that me and my newly acquired girlfriend Yvonne
would have the flat to ourselves for a few hours.
- Aren't you gonna take your trousers off? - No way.
- What was that? - It's all right. It's all right. I've got the only key.
What I should have added there, were the words "I think".
We should go.
Oh, my gawd! Oh, my good gawd!
Oh, what have I just seen?
Oh, I've gone blind. And...
Ohh! In my mother's bedroom!
Aargh! Right! You get home now, you dirty little bastard!
I am telling your father right now! And yours, Yvonne!
You do know my dad's gonna have you murdered for this, don't ya?
It had occurred to me. Yeah.
And then there's your dad.
Then there's my mum. My brother.
Uncle Eddie's a maniac as well.
- Hello?
Hello, Mum? It's me.
I said, "It's me."
Danny.
What should I do, Mum?
Well, you should get back here.
Now. Your father wants to see ya.
OK. Er... What about Yvonne?
I haven't said anything to her dad. I daresn't.
And you've got enough to worry about with your father so get home. Now!
What she say?
- My dad's gonna kill me. - Yeah, and what about me?
Oh, she said she's not gonna say nothing to your dad.
So I'm all right?
Oh, brilliant. I tell you what, I'm never doing anything like that again, OK?
Great. More good news.
Danny! Danny! Danny!
You wait till your father gets home!
This didn't bear thinking about.
I'd recently witnessed what had happened to the last family member to really upset Mum.
Tom the tortoise. Dad adored Tom even though they seemed to be constantly arguing.
Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah!
Now, I won't tell you again. Stop fuckin' eating my Chrysanths.
Listen to me. That's your side of the garden and that's mine.
Stay away from my side. Do you understand?
Dad, he's a tortoise. He can't understand, can he?
Well, hey-heh. He understands all right.
And another thing, stay out of the front room. Got it?
This is how Dad spoke to everything.
From blue bottles...
Go on. Land on my leg, see what you fuckin' get!
...to my brother's disappointing lizard.
Oi, liven your ideas up! Don't you look at me like that!
But... Tom, in particular, just wouldn't be told...
which led to the Great Teapot Disaster of 1973.
- Balliol, Williamson. - Marie Lloyd.
He's thick.
My mum's absolute pride and joy was her collection of novelty teapots.
He's not got one right yet.
Fred?
This is all set up before it's even started, this. What?
My teapots just moved.
- Moved? What do you mean "moved"? - Have a look. They're moving.
Bollocks!
Is it the trains doing it?
- They did, they just moved. - Danny, go and have a look.
Four eyes. Look at four eyes here.
Come on, Bamber.
- Oh, yeah. It's Tom. He's stuck underneath. - What? The tortoise?
- Yeah. - Well, get him out before the whole thing...
Oh, God!
- Oh, my God! - You naughty bastard!
Look at me teapots! What am I gonna do? Sellotape 'em?
Yeah, I'd run away an' all if I was you!
We had to hide Tom away for two weeks
after Dad swore he was gonna turn his shell in to a jelly mould.
And I daren't even guess what was gonna happen to me.
- Fred, he's in now. - Right. Leave him to me.
- Don't hurt him. - I know exactly what to do here.
- Are you all right now? - I am, but I shall never get over what I saw.
Where are you?
Your mother's been downstairs crying all day long because of what she's seen round Nan's!
She said it was like a fuckin' knocking shop round there!
Trousers round your ankles showin' all you ain't got!
Who the fuck do you think you are, Joey Hendrix or whoever?
Have you gone batchy? I've never heard anything like it in all my life!
Take no notice, son. It's just for her this. I was the same at your age.
And you can go to bed hungry tonight.
Bollocks to your tea, and bollocks to going out for the rest of the week an' all!
Gettin' on all right, was you, before she turned up?
Have you got that? You're in disgrace you are. Don't forget it!
It was an incredible moment. That night, I realised we were both men of the world.
So, anyway, there I was, finally waiting to witness
this much talked about event in British theatre.
And then, at that generation-defining moment, two things.
First, I hadn't quite factored in that I'd be sitting next to my own sister.
And second, blokes. The cast was mainly blokes.
And then it happened...
I'll say good night, then. I said...
Well, did you see anything?
Just arses or did they run around? How was their orchestra stalls?
Any of 'em keep their plimsolls on?
If this was the counter culture then give me Val Doonican.
Give me Pinky and Perky.
But above all, right now, someone give me a flannel.
After everything that had happened,
we no longer felt like using Mud Island as an adventure playground.
I'd be careful where you tread in there.
Teddy!
It's his trademark!
We never forgot our mate,
but soon enough, we did find other uses for the old place.
Sharon finished with Colin not long after that night out.
She said he wasn't her sort of bloke.
Which is exactly why dad spoke to him the way he did. It was a test, and Colin had failed it.
- See you later. - Michael!
My old man never missed a thing.
Ripped By mstoll