Pimlico

ANDY: Oh, what? Oh. Ow. Where the hell am I? Great! Great, great, great, great. Norton? This is you, isn't it? Norton. Where the hell are you? Is that you? Norton!

LIZBETH: Down! Ugh, get down and stay down, idiot!

ANDY: Uh- But-

LIZBETH: What bit of stay down is hard to follow?

ANDY: Who? Ah-

LIZBETH: Stop moving! Stop causing trouble!

ANDY: Who are you?

LIZBETH: This is my thing. Torchwood, I'm dead. What's your excuse?

LIZBETH: This way.

ANDY: What happened to London? Who blew it up?

LIZBETH: The Luftwaffe, this is no bombsite.

ANDY: Right. And the people firing at us?

LIZBETH: Are not the Luftwaffe. This way.

ANDY: So-

LIZBETH: I don't entirely know. Wall?

ANDY: What?

LIZBETH: Survived a doodlebug, should cope with a few pot shots. What they lack in marksmanship, they make up for in enthusiasm. Amateurs.

LIZBETH: See? Couldn't hit a spinied with a paella.

ANDY: So, you work for Norton?

LIZBETH: Ha! Try again.

ANDY: You're Norton's boss? Sorry, you were before you became... deceased? Is that the right terminology?

LIZBETH: Don't care.

ANDY: But I'm assuming that Norton sent you to me.

LIZBETH: Go on.

ANDY: Well, what normally happens is when Norton gets in trouble, he summons me from the future. I come from the 21st century.

LIZBETH: Fancy.

ANDY: Are you-

LIZBETH: This dry with everyone, yes. It's why I never married. Mostly.

ANDY: Hmm. Anyway, Norton's in trouble, and I'm his Torchwood assessor, and I-

LIZBETH: Actually, since I was also snatched out of time and got here first, I'm his assessor. Which makes you the spare dog at a lamppost.

ANDY: You don't seem very dead.

LIZBETH: Well, I must be in this time, otherwise he'd have just rung me up on the telephone. Even with our switchboard, it's less bother.

ANDY: Wait-

LIZBETH: I'm terribly sorry, exciting future idiot, but I think Norton summoned me. I'm sure you've heard this a lot, but you're here by mistake.

ANDY: Look, I'm being shot at too.

LIZBETH: Target practice. Let's cut through this house.

ANDY: Are we out of range now?

LIZBETH: No.

ANDY: Hang on a second.

LIZBETH: Oh, is that contemplation or constipation?

ANDY: I'm starting to see how Norton turned out like he did.

LIZBETH: Never losing?

ANDY: Not nice. Those bullets, they're funny.

LIZBETH: Oh, exactly the word I always use to describe artillery.

ANDY: No. Look, if I take a few steps to the right...

ANDY: Oh, whoa, whoa.

LIZBETH: Idiot!

ANDY: Now, if I turn left… No bullet. Ah, still, no bullet.

LIZBETH: Clever idiot.

ANDY: We are being guided.

LIZBETH: Herded. Until someone gives me a treasure map with a big X on it, I'll stay put.

ANDY: Why are you fussed? You're dead.

LIZBETH: Well, I was. Now I don't seem to be.

ANDY: Ow!

LIZBETH: See? You felt that.

ANDY: Oh, yes, I did.

LIZBETH: And by rights, I should be a hard-light pharadyne projection, instead of which I'm flesh and blood, bullet free, hence my reluctance to go on a walking tour of a rifle range.

ANDY: I still think we should go left and see what happens. Trust me, I don't want you to be shot.

LIZBETH: Don't you?

ANDY: I was being painfully polite.

LIZBETH: All your life. Ha! Fine. Lead on, idiot.

ANDY: See? On this street, we're not being shot at.

LIZBETH: I miss the attention. Where are the people? There should be people.

ANDY: The dead thing.

LIZBETH: You can't leave that alone, can you?

ANDY: Norton's dragged us both out of time. I was just about to finally see the new Bond movie.

LIZBETH: They make films about that brutal idiot?

ANDY: Rather good ones, actually. But my point was that I was living my best life when I ended up here. Presumably the same thing happened to you?

LIZBETH: Toasting crumpets and flirting with a new typist. Why has Norton brought me back? He must be in trouble.

ANDY: He normally is.

LIZBETH: Funny realising you're dead. Bit of a shock. There was I planning on seeing up my twilight with a tea shop that sells bad buns and worse art, and yet here we are. I don't make it out of the 1950s, sobering. What a ruddy, awful decade to die in.

ANDY: I'm sorry.

LIZBETH: Are you being kind to me?

ANDY: I'm hoping it'll work in my favour eventually.

LIZBETH: Bless you, tender child. No, it won't. Big black car over there.

ANDY: Well?

LIZBETH: Chauffeur.

ANDY: Is that- Inside the car- It’s-

NORTON: Andrew, Lizbeth, hooey!

ANDY: It bloody is, it's Norton!

LIZBETH: I'll wring his neck, then kiss him. Come on.

ANDY: What the hell?

LIZBETH: I can’t see.

ANDY: The car, someone just blew up the car.

LIZBETH: I don’t know I just can’t- The smoke.

ANDY: Come on, we’ve got to help him.

GIDEON: Excuse me, this way! Quickly!

ANDY: Gideon?

LIZBETH: You know this man?

ANDY: This is Gideon, Gideon Lyme. Norton’s er.. friend.

LIZBETH: Oh, my deepest sympathy. And my deepest sympathy.

GIDEON: Come away.

ANDY: But- The car! But- But, Norton! We have to help him!

GIDEON: I'll explain, but you have to move now!

ANDY: So, who was firing at us?

LIZBETH: Where is everyone?

ANDY: And what happened to Norton?

GIDEON: Please, I have answers for your questions.

LIZBETH: But has London been evacuated? The only traffic I hear is the whistling of rockets.

GIDEON: This spit has been cleared.

ANDY: Evacuated?

GIDEON: This is the Pimlico depopulation zone.

LIZBETH: House point to whichever civil service darling thought that one up.

GIDEON: It's just a severely bombed damaged part of the city that has been readied for redevelopment by the new town's department.

LIZBETH: The new town's department?

GIDEON: The population has been relocated.

ANDY: And something has gone wrong.

LIZBETH: Which is why we're here. What's happened to the people?

ANDY: Have they vanished?

GIDEON: No, they've just been moved to a new town.

LIZBETH: So what's wrong here?

ANDY: More importantly, what about Norton?

GIDEON: What about him?

ANDY: About- He was... I mean you were his…

GIDEON: I'm at work, Sergeant. I prefer not to discuss these matters. Also, people change. This way.

LIZBETH: You're expecting us to go in there? House looks like a death trap.

ANDY: Or just a trap.

LIZBETH: Very good, idiot.

GIDEON: Please. You're expected.

ANDY: Who are these people?

LIZBETH: They look like tramps.

ANDY: They're starving. Ooh, and could do with a bath.

GIDEON: They're Torchwood.

LIZBETH: Huh?

GIDEON: I've brought you the Torchwood Assessors, Sergeant Andrew Davidson and Lizbeth Hayhoe.

ANDY: Uh, right.

LIZBETH: And you are?

TORCHWOOD: We are Torchwood's Emergency Continuity Board.

ANDY: They're a bunch of men in dusty old suits.

TORCHWOOD: We are convened when the leader of Torchwood One goes missing.

LIZBETH: Norton. So he finally got to take over Torchwood.

MAN: And instead of protecting it, London is falling.

ANDY: But he's not missing. We just-

GIDEON: He must be found.

TORCHWOOD: London has been infiltrated. The Pimlico depopulation zone is infiltrated by an- Alien Force. We are trying to contain it. But we need your help. The rogue operative must be hunted down.

ANDY: The rogue operative being?

TORCHWOOD: Norton Folgate.

GIDEON: It's your job to hunt him down.

ANDY: Norton is not to be trusted.

LIZBETH: It's like they've met him.

ANDY: But even so, would he really allow London to be invaded?

LIZBETH: If it suited his weaselled brain, yes.

ANDY: But we just saw him blown up. Oh, that's why Gideon told us to shut up.

LIZBETH: He thinks Norton escaped. Are the two really an item?

ANDY: Well, they were the last time I met them.

LIZBETH: Pity. He seems like a nice boy. He'll end up dead. Everyone who gets close to Folgate ends up dead.

ANDY: I'm not.

LIZBETH: But I am. Now, what are we going to do?

GIDEON: The Torchwood board has issued me with instructions.

ANDY: Are they all right? They seemed a bit weird.

GIDEON: It's been a difficult time for Torchwood. We're trying to contain a… situation before it gets out of hand. Norton has turned the Pimlico Zone into his base of operations, and he must not be allowed to use it to establish a bridgehead.

LIZBETH: You're sounding like the dusty buggers upstairs.

GIDEON: I'm sorry. I'm...tired. This is...difficult. And do you know what? I've had enough of Norton Folgate. The situation has to be contained before it gets out of hand. I hate all this.

ANDY: You want us to hunt Norton down?

LIZBETH: Hand me a harpoon. Let's get cracking.

GIDEON: No. You'll need to recover after your temporal displacement.

LIZBETH: You want us to have a nap?

GIDEON: We'll get you to a safe house. Rooms have been prepared for you.

LIZBETH: Nonsense. The hunting of the snark? Tally-ho.

ANDY: Rooms? As in a nice hotel?

MISS PINKERTON: That's right. This way, this way. Welcome to Pinkerton's lodging rooms. Yes, the photographs are lovely. Studies of all my pussies and all my lodgers who've sadly passed on.

LIZBETH: Jesus.

MISS PINKERTON: Sorry, lovey?

ANDY: That's a lot of pictures.

MISS PINKERTON: I lost a lot of both pets and lodgers over the last few years.

MISS PINKERTON: The bombing and then of course the main road outside my front door. What with that and the railway arch. It's not been a peaceful few years. Still. I've got rooms for you on the second floor. They've a good view, not quite of the river, but you do see the trains and the traffic. Plus the smell of fish doesn't quite reach ya. I wouldn't cook the things myself, but lodgers do demand a kipper for breakfast.

ANDY: Dear God.

MISS PINKERTON: My pussy's positively rave for a herring for their supper, so what am I to do? And it masks the drain, so that's a mercy, as long as the wind isn't in the wrong direction.

LIZBETH: I was happier dead.

ANDY: I wanna go home.

ANDY: What even am I eating?

LIZBETH: That's not the most important thing.

ANDY: Is this bubble and squeak made entirely from cabbage and fish bones?

LIZBETH: Have you noticed the windows have bars over them?

ANDY: Honestly, back home, you'd only eat this on a game show.

LIZBETH: And the front door is locked. Miss Pinkerton seems to have the only key. Forget hunting Folgate.

ANDY: I'm going to try drowning it in mustard. It can't, I mean, it can't make it worse.

LIZBETH: Gideon said safe house, this is like a jail.

ANDY: Oh, no. Still disgusting. Oh. It's a very Torchwood solution, lock us up somewhere no one would look.

LIZBETH: What about our other prisoners?

ANDY: That's what I was trying to say about the food.

LIZBETH: Oh, I thought you were making small talk.

ANDY: No, this food is inedible, but everyone else is eating it. More than that, don't they seem weird? Same as the Torchwood board?

LIZBETH: People who've been through the wash too many times.

ANDY: We're the only ones here talking. I mean, have they lost the will to live?

LIZBETH: Or has it been taken from them? Clever idiot.

ANDY: Mmm, thank you.

LIZBETH: I'm going to my room. You're welcome to come up and listen to the radio with me. (whispering) Wait 30 seconds. Don't seem conspiratorial.

ANDY: In the same way that leaning over a table and whispering to me looks conspiratorial?

LIZBETH: Oh, very good. I had a red setter once. Understood nearly everything I said to him.

ANDY: Oh, well. I'm stuffed. Unless there's cabbage trifle for dessert. Is there? I hope there is. What do we get for dessert here?

MAN: Ashenden. Ashenden.

ANDY: I'm sorry?

MAN: Ashenden.

ANDY: Did he say Ashenden? What does that mean? Excuse me? Hello?

THE LODGERS, TOGETHER: You will be silent!

ANDY: Sorry?

LIZBETH: Come!

ANDY: Your room's better than mine.

LIZBETH: Don't tell me your wallpaper has more mould. We can speak freely. The radio should cover us.

ANDY: This is like being a secret agent.

LIZBETH: I am a secret agent.

ANDY: Oh, yeah.

LIZBETH: Actually, what are you? In the future? Jet car pilot?

ANDY: Yeah, yeah, I'm a policeman.

LIZBETH: Just a policeman? An ordinary policeman?

ANDY: Well, er, actually, uh, yes.

LIZBETH: And you don't work for Torchwood?

ANDY: I work with Torchwood.

LIZBETH: Like a binman works with a restaurant. There must be something about you which Folgate finds appealing.

ANDY: I am good looking.

LIZBETH: Ha!

ANDY: I don't think you're particularly nice.

LIZBETH: Are you criticising a dead woman? This isn't a funeral. Oh Lord, I must have had a funeral. My sister Margaret will have picked the dirge-y hymns and the stinky flowers and invited exactly zero of the thrillingly immoral wrens I looked after during the war. Wretched woman. If she's had my dog destroyed, I'll turn her into glue. Oh god.

ANDY: You alright?

LIZBETH: This really isn't your pigeon.

ANDY: Oh, I assure you it is my pigeon. I've spent my whole life helping crying women into taxis.

LIZBETH: I'm not hysterical. I'm absolutely pissed off. When this is all over, I'm going to wake up back in my body, looking at a burnt crumpet and knowing I'm going to die. Not in a general way, but with a sharp finality. I'll stop worrying about my pension and start worrying about my immortal soul. Oh, good grief. What if I find God? That'll terrify Norton “Nancy” Folgate, serves him right.

ANDY: For?

LIZBETH: I bet I'm dead because of him.

ANDY: You might not be. Oh.

LIZBETH: What?

ANDY: Er...

LIZBETH: Er? To err is human and it is not divine. Spit it out, Cherub.

ANDY: I sort of have met you. Briefly. And I really shouldn't talk about it.

LIZBETH: Because... Oh.

ANDY: Mm-hm.

LIZBETH: Oh. I see.

ANDY: It might not have been you. I can't really tell. In fact, it was almost certainly someone else. I couldn't really see. Anyway, what with all the screaming and the flailing...

LIZBETH: You cease talking, idiot. Let's listen to the radio.

ANDY: Yes, sorry, sorry. God, sorry.

LIZBETH: It's the light program. If you talk over it, you'll upset Lord Reith.

ANDY: We're in trouble, aren't we?

LIZBETH: Something's happened to Pimlico. The Earth's attacked and Folgate's gone traitor. I should think so.

ANDY: More than that, there's something wrong with this safe house.

LIZBETH: Yes, it is a safe house for putting people out of harm's way.

ANDY: Gideon wouldn't do that to us.

LIZBETH: What makes you say that?

ANDY: I know him. He's- He’s not like Norton. Well, he is a bit like Norton.

LIZBETH: He put us here. Either it's been compromised or we're supposed to be subdued by cabbage and cat pee.

ANDY: Why has he put us here?

LIZBETH: That depends. If Norton summoned us here…

ANDY: Oh, they don't trust us.

LIZBETH: Exactly. They interviewed us to find out how much we knew, then stowed us away like parcels in a luggage office.

ANDY: Or, whatever Norton's involved in, I think it's got in here.

LIZBETH: That's a frightening thought. Bars on the window, an operative out on the street. Good God.

ANDY: What?

LIZBETH: I just saw something. Another operative, armed.

ANDY: Maybe they're hoping he'll come and rescue us.

LIZBETH: We’ll fool them.

ANDY: Have you seen that poster, down there. “Plenty of life in Ashenden.”

LIZBETH: What about it. Ashenden, new commuter town on the sussex coast. Utility houses full of utility people eating off utility plates. Godforsaken hole. Are you proposing a day trip?

ANDY: No, I just-

LIZBETH: We have better reasons to break out, such as saving ourselves.

ANDY: What do we do?

LIZBETH: I think it's lights out. Don't want you getting caught coming out of my room. I may be dead, but I have a reputation to consider. Go back to your room, listen to the light program, and I'll cogitate.

ANDY: What's up with the radio?

LIZBETH: Probably sunspot activity.

ANDY: “Plenty of life in Ashenden.” Ah, Norton, what have you done this time? Radio on.

ANDY: More sunspots. Ah, no hot water, no hot water, no hot water. Oh, come on. Ah, ah, ah, ah, all hot water, all of the hot water. Ow, ow, ow. This towel is like Sandpaper. And, the bed. Please don't squelch, oh god, please don't squelch, please don't squelch!

ANDY: Oh, it’s a bit squelchy, no no no. Ah. (yawn) Yeah... Just once could Torchwood not be a luxury hotel? I mean... How on earth am I meant to sleep? (yawn) No problem, I’m out like a light.

ANDY: Norton! Norton? Is that you throwing rocks at my window? Norton, you better be rescuing me with a good explanation. Norton?

NORTON: Ashenden.

ANDY: Norton? Norton! Oh, that is not good.

LIZBETH: Turn off your radio.

ANDY: I have.

LIZBETH: Whatever the interference is, it's not sunspots. It's hypnotic. That's how they've infiltrated this safe house.

ANDY: Right.

LIZBETH: Also, you're naked.

ANDY: Oh, dear. Well, I didn't pack pyjamas because I didn't know I was coming.

LIZBETH: Don't apologise. It's like looking at a picture postcard of somewhere I once had a miserable holiday.

ANDY: We're in danger here, aren't we?

LIZBETH: Yes. What if Torchwood designed Miss Pinkerton's boarding house as a place to keep troublemakers out of harm's way and...

ANDY: What if the troublemakers were only making trouble because they were the only ones who knew what was behind the trouble?

LIZBETH: Then the force is using the radio to subdue them to stop them warning Torchwood.

ANDY: There's more. I think Norton was at my window.

LIZBETH: “Soft, what light through yonder window breaks.” Lucky Juliet.

ANDY: He was trying to warn me and...

LIZBETH: There's more?

ANDY: I...I think there's something in this room.

LIZBETH: Probably small to medium-sized vermin. Anything larger is probably gone to the cats or the kedgeree.

ANDY: No, it was a sound like scuttling, like woodworm.

LIZBETH: So, woodworm?

ANDY: And it was coming from the wardrobe.

LIZBETH: Which is made of wood. Right then.

ANDY: No, no, no, no, no.

LIZBETH: Out you come!

LIZBETH: Empty, see? Just your imagination. What a learning, you have an imagination.

ANDY: Oh really? Because what's that on the shelf? Slime? I'm saying slime. There's a hole at the back of the cupboard. Something was in here. And the louder the radio got, the more it moved.

LIZBETH: Right.

ANDY: So?

LIZBETH: Put some clothes on. We're in terrible danger.

ANDY: All clear. Not a sound.

LIZBETH: Apart from your anxious breathing.

ANDY: I have a thing.

LIZBETH: Well, don't have it now. Right then. Door.

ANDY: Can you open it?

LIZBETH: Not without a key.

ANDY: Aren't you a spy?

LIZBETH: Not like that.

ANDY: Well, don't you have a Torchwood-ey, alien lock-picky thing?

LIZBETH: Sadly, I forgot to grab it when I was snatched away from toasting crumpets, silly me.

ANDY: But-

LIZBETH: You're a man. Come and have a go. I'm sure the bank-level mortise lock in a steel door will bow before your chromosomes.

ANDY: Hmm, let’s have a look. No, no, no, no. Oh, no, no. Oh, oh wait! Hahaha!

LIZBETH: What are you doing?

ANDY: Seeing if there's a spare key above the door or under the plant pot.

LIZBETH: And?

ANDY: Uh-huh, there is. Not.

LIZBETH: Well, then?

ANDY: There's one thing I'd like to try.

LIZBETH: All right.

ANDY: Okay.

LIZBETH: And what did that achieve?

ANDY: Well, I'm less frustrated. Also, the bay window in the dining room doesn't have bars over it. It's a bit of a job, but...

LIZBETH: You go first. I'll land on you.

ANDY: Lovely.

LIZBETH: The coast is clear.

ANDY: Ow! Oh, sorry. This room is full of tables and I can't see in the dark.

MISS PINKERTON: Allow me to turn on a lamp.

LIZBETH: Miss Pinkerton.

MISS PINKERTON: You want something?

ANDY: Yeah, to know why you're sitting there in the dark.

MISS PINKERTON: Waiting. One never knows when one is needed by a lodger.

ANDY: That’s the noise I heard.

LIZBETH: When you say lodger, you don't mean us, do you?

MISS PINKERTON: Of course not.

LIZBETH: What are they?

ANDY: Did you have to ask that?

MISS PINKERTON: You'll see them soon enough.

LIZBETH: Oh, oh!

MISS PINKERTON: One of my cats has found one. I do wish they wouldn't. It never ends well.

ANDY: Oh no!

LIZBETH: Bloody hellfire!

ANDY: What just happened?

MISS PINKERTON: Poor dears. They're natural hunters, but they've met their match in my little lodgers. Vicious brutes! And now, they're coming for you. If there's anything left over of the poor thing, I'll put it in the stew.

LIZBETH: Idiot!

ANDY: Yea?

LIZBETH: Grab a table.

ANDY: Right.

MISS PINKERTON: What are you doing? I laid those out for breakfast<./p>

LIZBETH: Well, idiot here is going to push one of them onto the floor as a barrier. Idiot!

ANDY: Right.

LIZBETH: Oh. And I'm using this chair to break the window.

MISS PINKERTON: Don’t fight, it's easier this way.

LIZBETH: Come on.

MISS PINKERTON: They'll find you eventually.

LIZBETH: Jump!

ANDY: But uh-

LIZBETH: Fine, fall.

MISS PINKERTON: There's nowhere for you to run, is there, my dears? You might as well go to Ashenden.

LIZBETH: Never. Oh, and we're not staying for breakfast. Ah!

MISS PINKERTON: They won't get far, will they?

LIZBETH: Why are you stopping?

ANDY: Because when you threw me out that window I landed on my ankle.

LIZBETH: Don't be too hard on yourself, you missed the railings.

ANDY: Well we're not being followed by... by... What were those things?

LIZBETH: I couldn't see clearly but one ate a cat.

ANDY: Yes, I kind of didn't miss that.

LIZBETH: We did the right thing running away. But where do we go now?

ANDY: What do you mean?

LIZBETH: Well we're on the run, we can't trust anyone and it seems Torchwood are infiltrated.

ANDY: This is normally what happens when I meet Norton.

LIZBETH: So?

ANDY: Ashenden. I keep hearing the word.

LIZBETH: I told you it's a nothing of a place.

ANDY: Well, that may be just what we need.

LIZBETH: Excuse me?

ANDY: Somewhere to hide. How do we get there?

LIZBETH: I haven't got a clue.

ANDY: Well, it's only 40 minutes by train from London.

LIZBETH: How do you- Oh, the poster.

ANDY: Yep, even includes train times. First ones in an hour from Waterloo.

LIZBETH: But-

ANDY: Waterloo's not far from Pimlico, is it? Come on, we could walk on the river.

LIZBETH: Ugh!

LIZBETH: This is not a good idea.

ANDY: So you've kept saying all the way here.

LIZBETH: I think, I think we're being watched.

ANDY: Platform 8.

LIZBETH: I said I think we're being watched.

ANDY: And the first train is from Platform 8.

LIZBETH: You're going to just ignore me?

ANDY: If you can't say anything positive, yes.

LIZBETH: But those people over there look like plainclothes police, don't they?

ANDY: They do a little, yeah.

LIZBETH: They do a lot. We should leave.

ANDY: Or let's head for Platform 7 and then nip across.

LIZBETH: That won't work, idiot. Tickets.

ANDY: What?

LIZBETH: Have you money on you for tickets?

ANDY: Well, no. Have you?

LIZBETH: Exactly.

ANDY: Oh, look, those men are coming towards us.

LIZBETH: Right, then. We're leaving now.

ANDY: Are those two more of them at the exit?

LIZBETH: Platform 7 it is.

ANDY: First class?

LIZBETH: We don't have tickets. In for a penny, in for a pound.

ANDY: Those men coming up the platform.

LIZBETH: Not foiled by our cunning ruse? I'm stunned. Oh, God, the cleaner is so lazy. Look at that sand on the floor. I mean, I know we're going to the beach, but even so. Why are you pulling that awful face?

ANDY: Could you try being nice to me?

LIZBETH: Why?

ANDY: Because, well, people… I mean, look, I've had a difficult few hours.

LIZBETH: And? I'm dead and you're making me go to Hemel Hempstead.

ANDY: Hm. Those men are still coming.

LIZBETH: You know what? I don't care. We've got to get off this train. Something's very wrong. We don't have a clue what's going on and we don't have any-

NORTON: Tickets!

ANDY: Oh. Er…

LIZBETH: Damn.

ANDY: We don't actually have any tickets.

NORTON: No, silly, these are your tickets.

ANDY: Norton?

LIZBETH: Fancy Folgate?

NORTON: Yes, here are your tickets and here is my gun. Sit down.

LIZBETH: What?

ANDY: Uh-

NORTON: Sit down, it is loaded.

LIZBETH: We're leaving, let us off this train.

NORTON: No, you're both exactly where I need you to be.

LIZBETH: We've got to get off this train.

NORTON: Ah! Too late, we're going to Ashenden.