Little Voice

LV!

LV, cool it!

Yeah, we're late, thanks to you and Tweetie Pie back there.

I wasn't worrying about work. I'm worrying about Duane.

Duane?

Aye. There's a big race today. They start off from France at 9:00.

Strong winds forecast. Don't like winds, don't Duane.

Duane's a pigeon, right?

Aye. Where's the first call?

Shipley Street. Domestic installation.

I'm nearly done.

Ooh, I'll be wired up to the world soon, me... in touch with all parts.

- Nearly done. - Goodley.

I spend me life and me fortune in them slot boxes. Really, I do.

Ooh, but them uniforms are not very becomin'.

You look like you been chucked in a tool bag, you.

Put me right off, that has.

And I always liked a man in a uniform, me.

- Oh, I bet you did. - Hey, watch it, sparks. Sparkler.

Hey, speakin' of sparks,

you don't know nothin' about electrickery, do ya?

Only the wires of me home's cracklin' up on me.

No, no. We're just phone boys, us.

He's quiet, isn't he?

Is there anybody there? Or has he been disconnected?

Been cut off? I've got a daughter like that.

Like one of them answerin' thingies. You can only leave messages, like.

- Say hi, Bill. - Hello. - Bill?

Hey, you're not the famous phone Bill, are ya?

Eh, but look at you in that bag. You ought to complain.

Good-lookin' on top and then that.

Clark Gable in a bag. Or should I say "Clark Cable"?

Ooh, eh, look at them two lookin' now.

Hey, this one doesn't speak neither, love.

You could go out, you two, for a silent night, holy night.

Or stop at home for a bleeding quiet night in. Be a real riot, that would.

What did I say? What did I say?

Eh, look at the red on him now. Lookie. Oh, dear.

Aye, you see, that's all you get when she's upset...

crappaty records full-bloody blast.

Hey, you! Trash the calypso!

Right. We're all done.

- I'll just ring through and test the line. - Oh!

Oh, let me do it. Let me. Let me.

What's the number again? Oh, no. Don't tell me. I remember.

Start of the war, Bobby Moore.

Thirty-nine, sixty-six and me age, twenty-eight.

What are you laughin' at?

Music.

Music ringin' in my bloody ears.

Hello, me.

Cooped up there in the dark all day, like a friggin' bird trapped in the rafters.

Hey, steady on. Billy's fond of his birds.

Ah, well, I didn't think he looked like the shirt-liftin' type somehow.

No, feathered variety... pigeons and that.

What? Oh, frig me, no!

I can't be doin' with that.

All that cooin' and flappin' and shittin' all over shop. They want shootin', them.

The only good pigeons are in pies.

Right. If you could just sign this, Mrs., er...

Hoff. Mari Hoff. Crappaty name, isn't it?

Me late husband Frank left it me.

You can imagine me feelin's on signin' marriage register... Mr. And Mrs. F. Hoff.

See ya.

Thanks very much, Mr. Cable.

See ya, then.

What's it like then, eh? To watch your master at work.

Did you not see her? Legs of jelly she had for me.

Husband dead and out the way and all, eh?

Oh, bloody hell. Here's me imaginin' all sorts of slap and tickle,

and all you can dream about is bloody Duane.

LV, we out of bacon?

Recent bacon, I mean.

Oh, come on, phone. Ring.

Here, make me a cup of tea, LV, love.

Come on. Look after me.

Hey, give us that paper, here.

Oh, take it back. I don't like the front.

Oh, shove something on, something for me, LV, love.

Go on. Slap some food about for me.

Go on. What's that you're eatin', anyway?

A brown envelope? What's on telly?

Oh, sod that.

Oh, sod this. I'm off down the cafe, me.

I can't start the day without some dribblin' fat, can I?

Eh, speakin' of which, I can call Sadie on me new instrument.

That will freak her flabby ass.

Eh, and listen, you.

If anyone phones before I return,

you tell them I'll be back in five minutes, all right?

All right?

Are you receiving me?

Ah, Sadie, it's me.

Aye, callin' long distance, me.

That I am, sexy. Well and truly plugged in.

Eh, listen. You, me, cafe, now. Last one out door pays, all right?

Okay. Leg over and out.

Five minutes, tell 'em. All right? Toodle-pip.

Fuck me.

Mention bacon and eggs and she shifts like Linford friggin' Christie!

- How are ya, sexy? - Okay.

You look a bit on peckish side to me.

Move it.

You stick with me, son. You'll learn a few tricks.

Reading matter. That's the best one.

Next day or something... when hubby's out,

you go back with the reading matter... leaflets and that.

Works every time. Bedtime readin', I call it.

Bangers and bubble and a fuck hot tea, ta. Twice.

Bangers, mash, fuck hot tea times two.

But, Sadie, what a night I had me last night, eh.

What a friggin' championship night!

You should've seen me. Queen for a night, I was.

You'll never guess who.

Ray Say.

Ray friggin' Say.

You know him. He's agent to the stars...

king of cabaret... manager of miracles.

He's down at Mr. Boo's nightclub all the time.

Has that slight look of Elvis about him.

You know him. Everyone knows him.

And he knows everyone.

Eh, it was Mr. Boo himself introduced us the other night.

And two seconds, Sadie, I fib you not...

two seconds and his hand's on me ass.

My ass. My golden old ass in Ray Say's hand...

while he stands there tellin' jokes to Mr. Boo.

Well, I saw him again last night.

Oh, the music was in our heads...

in our heads and in his wanderin' hands.

He'll make it in anything, Ray Say.

He's one of them lovable twat sorta types.

Drivin' me round in his lovable twat mobile.

He motored me round about a million miles an hour.

Me heart in me mouth, his hands up me skirt...

and me mind on his meat and veg.

Listen. Then it's down to the harbor for a pronto snog.

- - Oh, lip-lappin' like old hell.

But at least he knows how to slide and dart and take a throat.

And at least there's the thick wad of his wallet...

Up against your tit for comfort.

Oh, up and down and down and up...

and under the bloody stars.

Heaven it were, Sadie.

What's up with you lot? Never had a shag in a Chevy?

Hiya.

F-Forgot to leave your, er, reading matter...

about services and all that.

Your phone's ringin'.

Would you like me to get it for ya?

Hello...

Dead.

Hey, you. What's this, then... one of them rave thingies?

Oh, stop it. Me ears won't take it.

I thought you were done, you.

You suddenly remember a socket ya unplugged, eh?

Telephone Bill. Little Birdy boy.

N-No, I forgot to leave this, er, readin' matter. It tells you...