After 20 years in the docks, it was time for a fresh start for my old man.
He was about to join the Royal Division of Commissionaires.
Oh, I do love a man in uniform.
My Wally was, first time I met him.
- Yeah. Fred was as well, as it happens. - What, fighting Hitler?
No, he was on the run from the military police.
Squad, halt!
Stand at ease!
Stand easy. Present... arms!
Quick march!
Hup! Left, left, left!
Left, left, left!
Does the City of London know what they're letting themselves in for?
- Blimey! - Come on! Drink up, everyone!
It's gonna last all week, this leaving do.
- Leave something for my wedding, Dad. - What?
You know your father - does nothing by halves.
But amidst all the skimmish and the skirmish,
there was one person who wasn't having a good time - me.
Having made a complete lake of myself over the fabulous Miss Blondel,
I had allowed the true object of my desire to drift away -
Yvonne Speed.
In her own deluded way,
she'd decided that Tony Gooch - an apprentice butcher from the Co-op -
was more of a catch than me, an unemployed drop-out
pretending to his parents he was still at school.
Dan. This is Tina, Wendy. They want to ask you something.
You're gonna think we're mad, right,
but we met him down the market and he said that your brother... is David Essex.
He's not, is he?
All the girls fancied David Essex,
and it had sort of been mentioned by a couple of my mates
that I did look a bit like him.
- My brother? - Yeah. Cos nobody likes him more than we do.
I'd marry him in, like, ten minutes.
Yeah, but I'd kill you on your wedding day!
- So is he? - Er...
No. I promise he definitely, definitely ain't.
- Oh, my God, he is, he is! - How'd you figure that out?
Well, if you'd have said "yeah", then we'd have known he weren't.
So if this is a party for your dad, David Essex must be coming too, yeah?
David Essex is not my brother.
Oh, my God! He's coming! He's coming!
Sit down.
At that precise moment,
nobody knew where my actual brother, Michael, was.
Worse still, neither did he,
having decided that tonight he was gonna be the first in the Baker family to try LSD.
Ripped By mstoll
Lackey! That's you now!
- You're gonna be a right toady, Spuddy boy. - Them City blokes will shout
- and you'll have to jump all over the place. - Will they?
Give it a couple of weeks, we'll see who's working for who.
Everything goes through me, don't it?
All the people in and out, all the parcels, all the mail.
There's plenty of room for scope.
Don't you worry about that.
Spud, it's your boy on the phone.
Danny! Go and tell your bleedin' brother to get down here.
Go!
Let us talk to him after you!
- Hello? - Danny?
Oh, I'm in this fantastic place, mate.
But it's too big.
I don't know if I'm gonna be able to find my way out.
- What shall I tell Dad? - Tell him...
...it's all too beautiful.
Oh, wow. You should see this.
Wow.
- It's like a moving space... - Yeah.
All right, David, if you're stuck in a recording studio,
there's nothin' I can do, is there?
OK, there's... There's some people here dying to meet you.
OK, bye, David.
Come on, hurry up. I've got a call to make.
What are you doing in there?
He's just a bit busy to make it down here tonight.
But um... now that you know, can you keep it to yourself?
Do me a favour. My mum and dad are just fed up with it all.
- I won't breathe a word. - Brilliant.
I promise. I haven't anyone to tell.
How about if I was his cousin?
Yeah, but you're not, are you?
And so began one of the more extraordinary episodes of my life.
One, I'm ashamed to say, I exploited to the full.
Over in the City, Dad was facing his first day on the straight and narrow.
- Do they work this hard all the time? - Yes.
- What for? - To keep the company's profits at a maximum.
What for?
Good morning, sir. This is our new man on the front desk.
Lance Corporal William Young.
Mr Carter, this is... Fred.
Or "Spud". Don't matter to me.
I thought you said his name was William.
Never mind all that. What do you do?
Mr Carter is the office manager. The youngest in the company's history.
- You report to me. - Oh, yeah?
- I read that you served in Aden. - Mentioned in dispatches twice.
What do you remember about Aden from your time there?
I don't remember a lot about it. I got blown up.
- Blown up? - Yeah, right up in the air.
Because my sister lives in Aden.
Well, I don't think she had anything to do with it.
Sorry to monopolise you again, Bet.
You seem to be spending more time on my Sandra's wedding than your Sharon's.
Don't be so daft.
I'll miss our little meetings when this is all over.
Not the same having to share you with everyone else in the canteen at work.
- What's this? - My secret vice. Night fishin'.
Since Marion left, it's given me something to do of an evening.
You'd love it. Clear night, total silence.
Moonlight on the lake.
Chance of an eight-pound carp.
I'll have to take your word for that.
Right, I'll be two minutes.
Our local fish and tackle shop was run by a bloke called Orrie.
He was a lovely fella, a real character,
who unfortunately suffered from an... affliction.
Hello... Keith. What can I get you?
- Pint of maggots, Orrie. - Righto.
Now, Dad hated fishing, but his best mate, Wally Shaw, was obsessed with it.
Gonna need some good 'uns tomorrow. Competition down in Tankerton.
Ooh, the all-nighter. Lovely.
Your missus must be understanding.
I don't have a missus.
You can have mine if you want.
Now, then, er, split shot... floats, a bag of hooks, a pint of maggots.
That'll be er... £2.17-and-a-half... pence!
Before you go off telling anyone, that's the... first big one I've done since January.
Right, back to the fascinating world of seating plans.
What's that? What's that? Oh! What's that? Oh, my God!
- It's all right. - It's disgusting!
No, you're all right. Hang on.
You know, as soon as you tell people
that you are definitely, positively not David Essex's brother,
it's funny how quickly word gets around that you are.
Excuse me. Can you give these to David Essex?
This is for him. And can you get him to read this and sign this?
- I'm his cousin, you know. - Yeah, you know I'm not actually his brother?
He is. He is.
- I mean, I'm definitely not his cousin. - Oh, behave.
- Two strawberry milkshakes? - Yeah.
The attention was nice, but it was really just a bit of a game.
Until I met Heather.
Excuse me. I couldn't help overhearing.
I mean, I know you really look like him, but are you really David Essex's brother?
Me?
Yeah.
Yeah, I am.
Wow.
Dad had promised Mum he'd make a go of his new job...
...and, to his credit, he made it till lunchtime on day one.
Opens this door, and there was this cabinet full of brandy, Scotch, vodka.
He says, "One of your duties is to make sure these boardroom decanters are topped up."
I thought, "Never mind the decanters, mate,
I'll keep myself nice and topped up, thank you very much!"
I did.
I don't know, Spud. You've got to be careful.
- It's a different game here. - He's right, Spud.
No, no, no. It's the same game, mate.
Different turf, that's all. Same again?
Oh, I'd better be getting back.
What? Why?
Don't want to be late on the first day, do I?
- What's the matter with him? - Sorry, mate.
He was always like that down the docks.
Whenever there was a strike, he was the first to vote to go back.
- Oh, no, not you and all? - It's my Mavis, Spud. I promised her.
What would your Bet say if you buggered this up on the first day?
My Bet would rather I be my own man than kowtowed.
Mind how you go, Spud.
Come on, ladies, up you come. Or you'll be like the bloke who missed the bus - not on.
Can you hear me?
I'm saying... which are the King Edwards and which are the Maris Pipers?
My actual brother was still enthusiastically, if recklessly,
continuing his exploration of inner space.
The Navajo. They gave us potatoes.
I don't care if you got them from bleedin' Geronimo,
I want three pound of Maris Pipers.
- What on earth are you doing? - Mickey, what?
Oh, no.
I've only gone and turned into a bloody snail, ain't I?
I'd asked Heather out to see David Essex's latest film...
and I'd had a brainwave about the tickets.
- Where have you been? - Me dinner.
- Dinner? You mean lunch. - No, I mean me dinner.
- What do you have in the evening? - Tea.
- Tea? So what do you drink? - Very nice of you. I'll have a large brandy.
I'm not happy with your attitude, Young.
I've had underwriters on the phone still waiting for their 12 o'clock mail,
people walking around without permits,
no paper towels in the gents' toilets.
Take a leaf out of your predecessor's book.
When I gave him an order, he carried it out.
I'll be carrying you out in a minute.
I beg your pardon?
Who do you think you are?
- Look here, my man... - Your man?
Let's get one thing straight. You may be wearing a uniform,
but you're nothing more than a glorified doorman. Understand?
If I have an errand I need you to run, then you bloody well run it!
Right, I tell you what.
Could I have a word with you in private, Mr Carter?
You've turned into a maniac!
- And you're about to turn into Superman! - What?
Cos in a minute you're gonna be flying out of that fucking window!
Don't you ever talk to me like that again, and in front of them young girls...
- Fred, let him go! - Mr Launchberry, this is anarchy!
No.
This is bollocks.
Fred, where are you going?
Woo-ooh.
Oh, hello. Wasn't expecting you back so early.
- How'd it go? - Want a bacon sandwich?
I ran into Smithfield Smutty down the market. Got a pile of bacon.
- No, thanks. - I'll have one.
There you are.
Haven't you got a wedding dress to fit into?
- I'm not having sauce on it. - Oh, well, that's all right, then.
So, how'd it go?
I jacked it in.
Eh?
No, I'm just winding you up. See your face!
Ohh.
No, it was er... Just been shown the ropes today.
- Half day. You know, first day and that. - Oh, God, I thought you were serious.
- Don't do that to me again, you rotten sod! - No, it's going all right.
Take a bit of getting used to, though.
- Good. Where's Danny? - Don't think he's home yet.
Too busy trying to convince some poor cow down the cafe that he's David Essex's brother.
Is that why he's started dressing like a pikey?
And this Donny Essex. Does he work up at the fairground?
He's a pop star, Dad. He's got an earring.
I think Danny's gonna get one.
Is he? His mother will help him pack.
Right, come on, then, you. Get 'em off.
- What? - I'll press it for tomorrow.
- Oh. Thought my luck was in then. - Where's your cap?
- I threw it at some bloke when I walked out. - Oi.
Here, Sissy Painter says if you do well in a job like this
they keep you on for life.
Yeah. Let's just see how it goes, eh?
Living a double life wasn't easy for Dad.
Whereas, by now, I was an old hand.
- See you, Dad. - Yeah, yeah.
Back in his civvies, with a good breakfast inside him,
Dad headed straight for his favourite bookies in Rotherhithe New Road.
Unfortunately, his route took him down Silwood Street
where he ran into the only other person in the world - apart from my mum -
that he definitely did not want to see that day.
Spud! Oi, Spud.
Buckle-eyed Bill Pitts.
Dad was firmly of the opinion
that if you looked a boss-eyed bloke in the face before a bet, it brought you bad luck.
- I just want to have a quick word. - No, not now. You can see two of me.
- Have a word with the other one. - I can get hold of hoovers and hairdryers.
- You interested? - No, I'm not! Stay indoors!
Dad and Buckle went through the same pantomime every time they saw each other.
Oi, oi, oi.
What you doin'? How come you're not at school?
- The um... The fire alarm went off. - Fire alarms? Hah! I'll give you fire alarms.
You're hopping it, ain't you? And I've caught you.
When you go in tomorrow, don't ask for a note from me or your mother.
Dad...
...I've left school.
- Left school? When? - Ages ago.
I've been too scared to tell you.
What have you been doing? Walking the streets?
Your mother's gonna go potty!
- Where's your uniform? - Here.
In there? Oh-ho! That's deception, that is.
That's against the law. Failure to maintain yourself.
What you gonna do?
- Photography? - Fucking photography?
I don't know what's happening to you, I really don't.
I have nightmares - nightmares - you're gonna wind up working in a women's shoe shop.
- Dad? - What?
Where's your uniform?
Oh, bollocks.
Come on. Let's go and have a drink.
A drink? What, like, in a pub?
Yeah. Well, you've left school now, ain't you?
You're a funny kid, you are. God knows where you get it.
- Spud... - Fuck off!
Don't look at him, son! Don't look at him. Stay indoors!
Come on, Mickey. How long are you gonna stare at them boxes?
She wants two dozen golden plums.
All right, all right.
Golden plums...
Jesus Christ!
He'll be all right. He'll be all right. It's his eye.
All right? Good day at school. History was good.
And... And geography.
I've... got some homework to do, so...
All right?
Well, I've not had a bad day.
Got to know a few of them a bit better.
The guv'nor seems like a nice bloke.
This guv'nor... Give you any good tips?
- Eh? - On the horses?
Cos the only person you've seen today is Buckle-eyed Bill Pitts
on the way to the betting shop. He told me.
Nah.
- I've... I've... I've been at work all day. - Yeah?
So what do you need a change of clothes for?
I knew it!
Boss-eyed blokes - always poxy bad luck.
This has got nothing to do with luck, Fred.
I wasn't even there ten minutes, I knew I wasn't cut out for it.
They said I was a glorified doorman, the lowest of the low.
- Me a doorman! - So why all the pantomime today?
I tried to tell you last night, but...
...you just looked... heartbroken.
I am heartbroken now... by you lying to me.
And creeping about behind my back.
And now we're back at square one.
All your dock money's gone on this wedding we got hurtling towards us.
Then what we gonna do?
This was our chance to get straight.
Proper job, Fred.
You had a proper job.
- Let me tell you about a proper... - Don't tell me nothing cos it'll all be balls.
Cos that is what you do. You treat me with contempt.
- Er... Mum? - Danny, not now!
I haven't been going to school.
- I left three weeks ago. - Fucking hell.
Sorry I lied to you.
I'll erm... I'll be back late tonight.
Bye.
- Where are you going? - What's it matter?
Cos as soon as anyone walks through that door, it's all a mystery, innit?
- I'll see you in the morning. - The morning?
What do you mean, the morning?
Phone's back on.
At least that's a bit of good news.
Hello?
You what?
Er, when?
His eyes? What are you talking about, his eyes?
No, no, no! No, don't! I'm coming up! Right? I'm coming up! Bet!
Bet?
Bet!
Hello?
Hello? Joan, it's Fred.
Is Bet with you?
What? No, I've tried there.
And there.
And there, yeah.
So I was officially going out with the best-looking girl
that I, or any of my mates, had ever seen.
And now it was back to her place.
- Louise? - Heather?
It's me. Guess who I'm with.
- Who? - David Essex's brother.
- No! - Here. Say hello.
Oh, my God! Hello?
Hello.
- Are you really David Essex's brother? - Yeah. Yes, I am.
- Can you say hello to him for me? - Yes, I will.
What's his favourite food?
Er, steak and chips, but he does like fish fingers, too.
I love fish fingers!
See? I told you. I'll call you tomorrow.
Cool. Now that's done, shall we...
- go back to yours? - Not yet.
I've got a load more people I want you to speak to first.
Won't be long.
Who do you think I am, the organist?
- Ah, brother Baker! - Hello, Spud.
Allow me to furnish you with some strong water.
- Sit. - No, you're all right, you're all right.
- Are you on your own, Fred? - Have you seen Bet?
- What's the matter? - Not since yesterday. You all right?
Nah. It's Michael. He's in the hospital. He's put his eye out.
- No! - Yeah, I need to find her.
Looked everywhere I could think of.
- Oh, my goodness. Pictures? - No.
She wouldn't go on her own. Said she might be out all night.
- All night? - We had a row or something.
Erm... where's she gonna go all night?
Erm, ask around for us, will you? I'm gonna shoot round her sister's.
If she turns up, tell her Michael's in the Royal Eye Hospital. OK?
- All right? Frank, you seen Bet? - No, mate.
- I hope he's all right. - Me, too.
- Spud. - What?
What?
I know where she might be.
- Do you mind? - Get out of it.
What am I doing out here? I must be puggled.
Fishing? I'll give you fishing.
Come on, where are the pair of you?
Can't you see there's a competition in progress?
If it's a competition to get a right-hander, you're gonna win it, mate!
Fuck you and your hunches. All the way out here for nothing.
Fred?
Bet?
What the bleedin' hell are you doing here?
Getting some peace and quiet.
- Hello, Fred! - "Hello, Fred!"?
Let's not be silly.
I hope you can swim, mate, cos you're going in that drink when I get hold of you.
- Fred, nobody's getting hold of anybody. - I should hope not.
But you'd know about that, wouldn't you?
Well, I couldn't stay indoors no more. You are driving me mad, Fred.
- Everything is. - We was just fishing.
- Can't you deal with this in private? - I'll deal with you in private in a minute, mate!
- Keith, where are you going? - This isn't my thing. I'm sorry.
Oh... We've done nothing wrong.
I've done nothing wrong, Fred!
Get, you long streak of piss!
Answer me this, what's the attraction to him?
What's all this about?
Well?
- Answer me! - I am answering you, Fred.
- What? - He listens.
Get it?
He listens to me.
Yeah. Well, Michael's in hospital.
What?
You can do what you want, but our boy's in hospital.
- What's the matter with him? - He's lost his eye.
Oh, God!
- When? - This afternoon.
Oh, my good God! I've got to get there!
Yeah. I tried to find you earlier.
- But you'd gone fishing! - Where are you parked?
Ha! I thought you'd be going home with him!
Well, I shall tell the hospital he can have one of my eyes!
- Michael can have one of my eyes! - If he's having anyone's eye, he's having mine!
My eye!
Are you sure your parents won't be awake?
They go to bed at ten every night.
It's fine.
I plan these things very carefully.
Come here.
Heather.
Oh.
- Are you Danny? - Er, yeah.
We... We were just ah...
Your sister called. Your brother's had an accident.
What? Is it bad?
He's at the London Eye Hospital. I think it's serious.
Ah, OK.
I'm gonna have to go. I'll see you. Thanks.
Poor boy.
David Essex is in the hospital!
Ripped By mstoll