The Phantom Light

Music

THE PHANTOM LIGHT

Yeah, yeah.

Here, misses. Where do I get a car to the village?

What?

Alright. Alright. Alright.

Same to you.

Huh, nice place, Wales.

God, blimey.

Whose there?

Hello... -Beg pardon?

I'm sorry, miss. Nice evening.

What's nice about it? I've been here for hours.

Oh, you don't happen to know where I could find a car, I suppose.

That's just what I'm waiting for. -Well, isn't anybody about?

Only the old station woman, and she only talks Welsh.

Funny sort of place.

Oh, here's a porter. Oi, taffy, come here.

Do you speak English? Well, I want a car, see. -A car.

A car to take me to the village. -Both of us.

Car. -Alright, alright, I heard you, cook.

God bless me soul. Another white man. How did you get here?

Transferred from Clapham Junction. -Huh.

Now listen, I've got a job of work to do, see.

I'm reporting for duty tonight.

I'm taking over at the North Stake Lighthouse. -Oh, are you?

Yeah, any complaints? -Plenty. -Well, go on then, spit it out.

Well, down here they say the lighthouse is haunted,

and what's more, blokes go mad and kill their selves.

Oh, do they? -Have they? -Yes, miss. The last bloke done himself in

or somebody done him in.

People say it's ghosts. -Who told you that?

Well, the whole blinkin' village. -Ah, don't you listen to him, miss.

He's been so long from a fried fish shop he's gone batty.

Oh, be quiet, this is interesting.

Well, I'm sorry interrupt, miss, but you see I'm late as it is.

Now then, old sport, what about that car?

Right-o, cook. I'll go and have a look down the road.

Uncle Percy of the Children's Heart.

You know, I think you're wonderful, mister...

Higgins. -Higgins.

The way you don't seem to mind about ghosts and murders and things.

Oh, a lot of nonsense. -Well, it didn't seem like nonsense to me.

Oh, didn't it? -No.

You know, you surprise me, Mr. Huggins. -Higgins. -Higgins.

I always thought lighthouse keepers were grim and grisly with yellow teeth and scars.

You know, sort of human gorillas.

I never realized they were good looking like you.

Well, there are two in the service handsomer than me.

Now then, miss, what's your little game?

Take me with you to the lighthouse. -What?

Well, don't look at me like that. -Oh, so that's your game, is it?

Well, you can put that idea out of your head.

There's nothing of that sort of thing goes on in lighthouses.

What sort of thing? -Well, that sort of thing. -How dare you!

Well, ain't that what you meant? -Of course not. -What did you mean?

Mr. Higgins, I'm going to tell you the truth.

I live nearby in a small village.

Life in a small village is very dull, Mr. Higgins.

Not with you there, I'll lay a pound to the sausage.

Of course, I do all I can. I belong to a psychic society.

Wales is full of folklore, you know. -Is it? -Didn't you know? -No.

Now, I've heard this legend about the phantom light,

and I mean to investigate it for my society.

Well, I'm very sorry, miss, but you can't do it on my lighthouse.

You see, I've got me instructions,

and though they mention there's a lot of funny things they don't mention no women.

We've got work to do on the lighthouse, and females is tattoo.

Now how good looking am I?

This is the station's car.

It looks it.

Oh, taht looks too beatup to put anybody in.

I suppose there's somewhere I can sleep tonight.

I expect they'll put you up at the pub, miss.

This is the pub, miss. -Well, thank God we've got here.

Where are you off to, mate? -Harbormasters. Do you mind?

Well, you better walk the rest. It's safer.

I believe you. How do I get there?

Down the street, follow the stream,

then take the steps 'round the cliff. -Right-o. -You'll see it by the harbor.

Here you are, mate. Here's my share of the damage.

Goodnight, miss. -Goodnight. -So long, cook. See you at the funeral.

So long, misery. I'll be in the front carriage.

Not there, miss. That's the bar.

You're the Bottle and Jug.

Well? -Is this the Bottle and Jug?

YES. -I want a bed.

Nice evening. -Maybe.

I tell you that nobody may visit the lighthouse

without the permission of Trinity House. Nobody at all.

It is the regulations. Nobody. Not at all. -But if I was to go -

When I tell you it is the regulations,

I tell you it is the regulations.

Don't you understand me when I speak English?

Name of Higgins, chief lightkeeper.

Reporting for duty at the North Stake Lighthouse.

Good evening, lightkeeper. We have been expecting you.

Now that's off my chest.

Oh, thanks very much.

So he did, did he? -Yes, 50 times did I tell him he could not go,

but he would stand there and argue. -Funny, ain't it?

You know, there's lots of folks like him.

They think there's something romantic about lighthouses.

Romantic. A couple of months out there in winter weather, that would learn him.

Pork and beans, pork and beans.

And you're lucky if you find the pork.

By the way, where is this here lighthouse?

Marked in the chart. -Over there?

I see. Half a mile from the shore around the inland.

So if I got a bit of skirt in the village I can't wave to her.

Mr. Owen, -Yeah.

What about a boat to the lighthouse? -My brother Griffith will take us over.

The boat is ready. It is the others we are waiting for.

It is time Dr. Carey was here, David.

Late he is and we must go out on the ebb tide. -Aye.

Is it him we're waiting for? -And Sergeant Jones.

They have to make a report on poor Jack Davis, the lightkeeper who was killed.

Drowned wasn't he? Poor devil.

He just disappeared.

Disappeared like the other lightkeeper before him.

Well, I hope it ain't catching. What's the doctor coming for?

For poor Tom Evans. It is him we will be bringing off from the light tonight.

What, the other lightkeeper? I wasn't told this. What's his trouble?

His poor brain got twisted by what he saw the night Jack Davis died. -Cuckoo?

Only yesterday we knew it. There were signals from the light.

Very rough it was. Hardly the relief boat get out to the light.

But whose in charge out there now? -Claff Owen. -Owen?

My brother. -Let's get this straight. There's you two Owens here right now,

then there's Claff Owen at the lighthouse now.

Then there's the Owen who drove me down in the car. That makes four.

Anymore Owens?

Well, there is John Owen in the coal and William Owen, the gas.

They are the cousins of Owen and Owen at the post.

And there is Iva Owen at the farm and Trevor Owen.

Owen, Owen, Owen, ain't anybody paying?

That's not bad.

There will be a sea getting up before long, Griffith. -Yeah.

Wasn't there a big wreck around here last year? -Yes, indeed.

One of the Fern line, it was. My son Emerus was in her, whatever.

It was a lot of men from this country.

It was the North Stake light that drowned them all.

You'd better be careful what you're saying. I mean, this is serious, this is.

You'd better not let Trinity House hear him. How could the light drown him?

But he is right, lightkeeper. It was the light that drowned them all.

Everybody knows it is a haunted light. And when a ship comes into the channel,

suddenly out goes the light and another light comes up onto the cliffs,

and the ship goes on to the rocks over there.

A phantom light, I tell you.

Oh. So this is a good place for wrecks, is it?

Well, now, I'm going to tell you something.

It ain't going to spoil my sheet.

I've been in the service now for 25 years come Michaelmas,

and I've never had me light go out yet.

Hello, David. -Dr. Carey, this is Mr. Higgins, the new chief lightkeeper.

Good evening, Mr. Higgins. -Good evening, sir.

I suppose they've been chilling your blood to begin with, eh?

Well, they've been doing the best, sir.

They tell me the Merry Fern signaled up channel.

Claff Owen will be pleased. His son's the chief officer on board.

What ships that, sir? -The Merry Fern. -But I thought she was wrecked last year.

Oh, no, no, that was her sister ship. -Oh.

Yes, it hit the village pretty hard too.

Most of us are small shareholders.

Oh, by the way, David, where is Sergeant Jones?

You will find up to the public house, Dr. Carey, courting Mrs. Owen.

Well, we better go down there and find him.

I don't suppose you'll object, Higgins? -Lead me to it, sir.

Here. Did you say Mrs. Owen? -The name Owen is not uncommon in Wales.

God blimey, it must be half the blinkin' directory.

How's the sea? -It looks like a bit of a chop come in, sir.

We'd better have a look at the glass.

Yeah, it don't look too good, do it? -No.

By the way, Sam. -Yeah. -You don't believe all those old women stories

about Jack Davis' death and the men after him, do you?

Well, I don't know, sir. It seems a bit odd to me.

Oh, pure coincidence. Don't let them frighten you.

Well, it's the only bed I've got. Take it or leave it.

Oh, I'll - I'll take it.

You were quite right about that mattress.

I said it was a flop mattress. -I thought you said rock.

Your health? She is staying whatever?

These skinny bits of girls from London do not know when they are well-off indeed.

Aye, it is not everyone who is as good a judge as you, Sergeant.

Perhaps it is because I am used to looking at a really fine woman, Mrs. Owen.

YES.

Hello, chum. -Good evening, Dr. Carey. -Evening, Evans. Evening, Mort.

Good evening, doctor.

Good evening, sergeant.

Mrs. Owen, I want a couple of good tarts of rum.

It is rum, isn't it, Higgins? -Thank you, sir. Doubles.

Sergeant, they shall want you directly.

This is the new lightkeeper Mr. Higgins.

Good evening. -So you've come to take poor Jack Davis' place.

Well, his place where he was, not where he is.

Ha-ha. Joke. -I hope it's the right one.

Well, cheerio. -Cheerio.

Same again? -I should say so. -Single.

You blokes, what about having one with me?

No.

Well, it isn't many fisherman would care to drink with the man that has his fate on him.