(upbeat music) - [Lachie Jr] Is everything ready?

- [Jubel] Everything's ready.

What about you boys?

- Right.

Let's do it.

Five, four, three, two, one.

- Good evening, Loch... - [Both] Dubh!

(lively folk jig) This is Lachie the Man.

- And Flipside Jack.

- On Radio Loch... - [Both] Dubh!

- Tonight we bring you the delectable... - The pouting... - The gorgeously gorgeable... - Hypersexity... - News Queen.

(both howling) - But right now, these questions.

- [Jubel] Is your flock feeling fickle?

- [Lachie Jr] Ewes useless?

- [Jubel] Rams not so rampant?

- Then tarry to hear the words of special guest Professor Merino.

- Sage of the stockyard.

- Wizard of the wool trade.

- Professor Merino!

- News Queen.

- [Jubel] And the tremendously popular Book Lady with the latest tear-jerking installment of Far, Far, Far From The Madding Crowd.

- [Lachie Jr] These and many, many, many, many, many more on Radio Loch... - [Both] Dubh!

- She felt powerless to withstand or deny him.

He was altogether too much for her, and Bathsheba seemed as one who, facing a reviving wind, finds it blows so strongly that it stops the breath.

He drew near and said, "I must be leaving you."

He drew nearer still.

That minute's interval had brought the blood beating into her face, set her stinging as if aflame to the very hollows of her feet, and enlarged emotion to a compass which quite swamped thought.

She felt like one who had sinned a great sin.

The circumstance had been a gentle dip of Troy's mouth downward upon her own.

He had kissed her.

- [Jubel] That was Book Lady, folks.

- She's in sweet voice tonight.

- Aye, aye.

- Now, mind and put out the good china for her.

- Aye.

- [Jubel] And now The Ceilidh Band just for you.

- Hiya, Barney.

Agnes.

- [All] Shh!

- Sorry.

- Awful sorry about this, Hamish.

- There's no need to apologize.

Hamish understands.

- And so he should.

His Alex got them into this reading lark with her damn book spot.

- Yeah, on your son's radio station, Lachlan.

Illegal radio station, I may add.

- Aye, well, that's as may be.

- I don't know.

I quite enjoy the quiet.

I think Alex is to be commended.

- I'm with you, Doctor.

Only an uncultured oaf could object to such serenity.

- Uncultured oaf?

- Shh!

This is a bar, not a bloody library.

- I understand there's barely a book left in the library.

- It may have escaped your notice, but with all this reading going on they're hardly drinking a thing.

It's bad for trade.

- We'll manage.

(Peter sobbing) - What's the matter wi' him?

- He's reading "Wuthering Heights".

Cathy has just died.

- Give us a pint, would you, Barney, while Agnes soothes him?

- There, there.

Come on, now, Peter.

- It's just it's just so moving, Agnes.

- I know.

- Maybe if you tackled something a bit emotionally less taxing, Peter.

I've just finished "A Brief History Of Time" and you'd be welcome to it.

- No, I'm going to finish this book, Neil.

I'm going to finish it.

It's so moving.

- Look at him.

That man hasnae been up to the bar all night.

Can you not do something about this, Hamish?

- Why don't you get Agnes to ban books fae the bar?

- Why don't you get Alex to stop the book spot?

- I wonder if you could just keep it down a little, lads.

I'm in the middle of a rather steamy bodice-ripper over here.

- Ach, well, maybe it'll all blow over.

- How so?

- Well, I got a fax from Inverness.

Apparently there's been complaints from a couple of legitimate radio stations.

They're sending a detective man tomorrow.

Obviously I'll be giving him every assistance.

- Now wait a minute, Hamish.

I don't want the radio station to close down.

Just that book spot.

- Don't you worry, Barney.

My boy Lachie the Man has contingency plans for such an eventuality as this.

- Heads up.

It's News Queen.

- [Lachie] Time for News Queen.

- [Isobel] It's nine o'clock and this is Radio Lochdubh.

A lovesick bull ran amuck in Nairn High Street today.

Meanwhile, back in Lochdubh... ♪ And I'd roll my Mary in my arms ♪ ♪ In the town of sweet Dungloe ♪ - The Ceilidh Band, folks.

- With their penultimate number.

- Sniffle, sniffle.

- Boo-hoo.

- Sob, sob.

- But to look forward to on Radio Lochdubh... - Animal Husbandry, with a man who really knows his chickens.

- Bide A Wee, when a local luminary invites us into his or her hacienda.

- And we bring you Stargazer, a man for whom the future is an open book.

- All this... - And much, much, much, much more... - Coming up on... - Radio Lochdubh, your local... - Local.

- Radio!

Yee-ow!

- Yee-ah!

(lively folk jig) - Oh, God!

Sorry.

- No, that was my fault.

I should have been looking.

- Excuse me.

- Aye.

All right, lads?

- All right, Hamish?

- Hello, Hamish!

Did you catch the show?

- How do you do that?

- Do what, Hamish?

(all laughing) Sorry, Hamish.

Were you listening?

- Only to Book Lady.

Where is she by the way?

- She's over at... - It's great, that.

- Alex goes over to the McNeil croft.

Old Mrs McNeil's a major fan of the literature spot.

I thought you knew.

- No.

No, I didn't.

But I've got some bad news, I'm afraid.

- Nah.

We were expecting something like this.

Come on outside.

When these snoopers get here, Hamish, we'll go mobile.

We'll have to scale the operation down naturally, but we'll manage to put something out.

Keep our station's name in the public consciousness.

- Where did you get the money for all of this?

- The station patron.

Zoot McPherrin.

All he asks in return is that our output be demographically sound.

You know, something for everyone.

We're having a terrible time getting The Ceilidh Band to play swing.

For the older generation.

- And you reckon this is gonna work?

- Oh, yes, Hamish.

- I'll shoot off, let you boys get on with it.

Just watch out for that detector van.

- Oh.

- We.

Will.

- Hamish.

And.

- Good.

- Night.

(tense music) (gasps) - I'm sorry.

I saw your car.

I thought there might be something wrong.

- No.

Just enjoying the quiet.

- Right.

- You know, after the noise of the barn.

- Oh, aye.

Well, I'll be off, then.

Leave you in peace, eh?

- No.

- No?

- What I meant was I was about to leave anyway.

- Well, I'll walk you to your car, seeing as how you're just leaving.

I cannae take this, Isobel.

This living a lie.

I've had enough.

- Yeah.

- Yeah?

- Really?

- Good morning.

- Hiya.

- Late in last night.

- Yeah, I was up at the barn.

Lachie said you went over to visit the McNeils.

- Yes.

My number one fans.

- [Hamish] You never said.

- You don't mind?

- No, no, why should I?

You obviously get a lot out of this radio thing.

- Yes, I do.

- Alex, there's something I have to tell you.

- Sounds serious.

What is it?

- Well, er... - Yes?

- Alex.

There's some people coming up to close down the radio station.

- What?

- The thing's illegal, Alex.

You must have... A dream of a media career for Lachie and Jubel, but it's illegal nonetheless.

You must've known this was gonna happen.

- You're not gonna help them, these people?

- What?

- [Alex] This radio thing, as you call it, means a lot to the community.

- Oh, come on.

Give it a couple of days and they'll forget it ever existed.

- What gives you the right to say that?

What do you know about it?

Some people can care, you know.

And they can feel bad when they lose something they care about.

Are you gonna help them?

- When have I ever went against the grain in this place, Alex?

That is how I get the job done.

Go with the flow.

- Oh, yeah, that's what you do, isn't it, Hamish?

Go with the flow.

I was forgetting.

Silly of me.

- I'll neither help nor hinder them, Alex, okay?

But whatever happens, it's... - Yes?

- Och, look, what I'm trying to say is I would never ever do anything to hurt you, Alex.

Never, whatever I've done.

But you have to do it, it's just...

It wouldnae be to hurt you.

You know?

It's important that you know that.

- Why would I think you'd set out to hurt me, Hamish?

- Look, I'm not saying that, I'm just saying...

I'm just saying, that's all.

- I can hardly believe we're really here.

And getting bloody paid for it too.

- Yes, it is lovely.

- You know, Magda, much as I appreciate this is a mutual journey of discovery, if you get my meaning, on a purely individual level I'm finding out an awful lot about myself.

I'm experiencing emotional responses I never thought I was capable of.

To this.

To all this, Magda.

The bloody beauty of it.

It's so beautiful, Magda.

And to be seeing it with you, here by my side, after all this waiting.

Magda, why don't we just go to the caravan now?

- I'm not feeling that way right now, Sidney.

- Oh.

Well, having waited throughout your divorce proceedings, Magda, and then having waited for the emotional dust to settle after that, I suppose a few more hours' waiting won't hurt.

I suppose.

- Morning.

- I made a list of things to do.

- Thank you, dear.

I think I might have managed using my own initiative.

- Did you hear that, boys?

Use his own initiative.

I want a hotel to come back to, Barney, so you just refer to that list constantly.

- Have you thought of pinning it to his jumper, Agnes?

In case he loses the whole damn thing.

Where would he be then, eh?

- Don't forget to tell your mother I was asking.

- [Hamish] A caravan?

They're not paying you enough to stay in a hotel?

Must be a bit awkward, no?

- The caravan's mine, Constable.

And Magda and I, our relationship goes beyond professional bounds.

Almost.

I've got a few names I'd like to run past you.

Pretty obscure, but you never know.

Book Lady?

- No.

- News Queen?

- Uh-uh.

Professor Merino?

I think he's got something to do with sheep.

- No.

- Flipside Jack?

- Uh-uh.

- Lackey the Man?

- Ah.

Ha-ha!

You mean Lachie the Man?

- You know him?

- No, I'm helping with the pronunciation.

It's ch.

Lachie.

- Lachie.

Right, yeah.

- And by the way, there are thousands of Lachies in them there hills.

- I'm sure there are.

We'll just get on with our work quietly here, Constable.

If we need any help we'll let you know.

- Any time.

- Come on, Ella.

- Thank God!

Right, a word before we go on.

Talk naturally, okay?

First we need to find you a by-name.

- Daddy'll do fine, thank you very much.

- Daddy?

I can't call you Daddy on air.

- Well, we won't be going on air, then.

- So, folks, on this, our Animal Husbandry spot, tonight we bring you my daddy.

- Good evening.

- [Lachie] And tonight my daddy will talk about what to do with hens that stop laying.

Daddy.

- Well, Lachie the Man, the first thing is an external check of the bird to get a picture of her general condition.

Now, if this reveals nothing, we must look carefully up the bird's fundament in search of blockages.

- Its fundament?

And what would that be, Daddy?

- That would be its arse, boy.

I had hoped to avoid using that term but in the light of your amazing ignorance I had no option.

Next question.

- Well, maybe you'd like to take a look, Daddy, and tell us what you see.

- Oh, you look lovely, Magda.

- Thank you, Sidney.

- You've really caught the sun, you know.

Sit down, relax.

It won't be long.

Have a bread stick while you're waiting.

Oh, and I've prepared us a lovely pepper sauce to go with the steak.

- Sidney - Did I say they'd started broadcasting, my love?

I picked them up no problem.

Bearing 183 degrees from here.

And guess what.

- What?

- I've checked the maps.

There's not a single building on that bearing I can see.

I think they're on the move, Magda.

- Then they'll be harder to catch, Sidney.

- Oh, yes.

But why should we be in a hurry to catch them?

- Sidney - Come on.

Have some wine.

(lively traditional music) - Isobel.

- Hi.

- It's working all right.

- Mm.

A bit warm but it is working.

- Good.

Best get in.

- Yeah.

- Everything's locked, Magda.

Everything's safe and secure.

- Sidney, I can't.

- What?

Why not?

- I'm frightened, Sidney.

- Frightened?

With all due respect, my dear, you're hardly new to this.

You were married for 18 bloody years.

- No, you don't understand.

I have this feeling, Sidney, that something terrible's going to happen.

- Nonsense.

- No, please, Sidney.

I've this terrible sense of foreboding.

- I suppose I should be flattered, Magda.

Other blokes get fobbed off with mundane excuses like headaches.

I get foreboding.

- Don't be like this, Sidney.

- Well, what do you expect, Magda?

You're not the only one with a biological clock.

Mine's ticking away just as fast as yours is.

That's why we have to move this relationship onto the physical plane ASAP, Magda.

ASAP.

- I'm sorry, Sidney.

- I see.

- Oh, Sidney - No, it's all right, Magda, I understand.

Well, if not pleasure, business.

Perhaps I can spend my time more fruitfully listening to our quarry.

Good night, Magda.

- Go and marry your man.

Go on.

You may as well.

I have no further claim upon you.

Why didn't he win you away before, when nobody would have been grieved?

Now the people sneer at me, the very hills and sky seem to laugh at me till I blush shamefully for my folly.

I loved once.

When I'm dead, they'll say, miserable lovesick man that he was.

Heaven.

Heaven, if I had got jilted secretly, and the dishonor not known.

All the time you knew, how very well you knew that your new freak was my misery.

- [Lachie] Book Lady, folks.

Tune in tomorrow for the next heartbreaking... - Drinks, anyone?

- That was superb, Hamish.

Wasn't that superb, Doc?

- Aye, sure.

Though I prefer the moderns myself.

Albert Camus, for instance.

- Drinks?

- I've got him.

I've got him over here.

- Pint, anyone?

- The doc's right about this man.

Listen.

- Shh.

- Quiet.

- Mother died today.

Or was it yesterday?

I don't know.

Simple yet breathtaking.

One is immediately drawn into this fractured, uncertain world in a very... - Well, it's a wonderfully economic prose style, I'll give you that.

Who did you say it was again, Doc?

- Albert Camus.

The existentialist.

- Beer, anyone?

- Roughly put, a philosophy that suggests that being comes before essence.

- Nonsense.

Being before essence.

I was born with a soul, with an innate sense of right and wrong.

I had my essence at birth.

- Fascist bastard!

- Who said that?

Show yourself!

Come on!

- Never mind who said it.

Stick to the point.

- You're quite right, Neil.

This existentialism, it's the devil's own creed.

I know it is a recipe for social collapse.

Och, man, I can see it now.

Let's say I go and buy myself a new tractor.

A bright, shiny one.

A red one maybe.

- Why red, Lachlan?

Is that significant?

- [Lachlan] No, of course that's not significant.

- If you don't buy a drink, I'm gonna cut my throat.

- Merely a postulate.

So anyway, I'm up on the croft, you know, just walking round and about as you do, marveling at the new gadgets that have come with this tractor, when up comes this jackanape and starts making off with the tractor.

"Here," I say, "That is my tractor.

And it would not be a good idea for you to make off with it.

It would be quite wrong, in fact."

But he can say, according to you lot, "I'm an existentialist.

I don't know what wrong is yet."

- I think you're being a bit obdurate, Lachlan.

I mean, vis-à-vis your postulate, the phrase that springs to mind is reductio ad absurdum.

We could argue here all night.

- But the only absolute truth is... - What?

- There is no absolute truth.

(indistinct shouting) That's an epistemological commonplace.

- Who'd have thought it, eh?

The cut and thrust of philosophical debate here in the Stag Bar.

- Existentialism?

Damn books have filled their heads full of nonsense.

- It's not just books, Barney.

There were the old gangster movies.

The ultimate existential hero.

You know, the man who rejects all laws and conventions and goes his own way.

- Rejects all laws and conventions?

- Gangsters, Barn?

I think you have enough trouble with the philosophers.

- Do you have any books on it?

- Books, Barney?

- Aye.

Why not?

That Barney's up to something, don't you think?

Hi, Isobel.

- I was wondering if we might have a word, Hamish.

- Yeah, sure.

- Well, I'll just mosey along.

- I met Alex tonight.

I thought she might have had something to say to me, but she didn't.

- That's maybe because I haven't told her yet.

- Can I ask why not?

- Well, because I'm trying to find a way without hurting her.

- It's a decent instinct, Hamish, but that way doesn't exist.

- Just give me time, Isobel, eh?

- You haven't mentioned the show, what you thought of it.

- You were as good as ever, Alex.

- Thanks.

- Very emotional.

Heartfelt.

Alex.

- Did I say I thought it was over, Hamish and me?

- Oh.

- Do you even want to hear about such things, for goodness' sake?

- Him or you?

- Him.

He hasn't said anything but I've suspected for some time now.

- Oh, what'll you do?

- Leave, I think.

- Oh, no.

- Get on with my life somewhere else.

- Hector?

- Aye, aye.

- I was asking for your advice on this matter.

- Oh, men are hopeless.

Emotionally, I mean.

And so he'll have to be asked right out.

Now, if Macbeth is having difficulty in expressing his feelings, he has to be helped.

You'll just have to ask him right out.

- Thank you.

- [Hector] Aye, aye.

- Just promise me one thing.

- What?

- If you do go, you'll finish that story first?

- Solemn promise.

- Books, you want?

I'll give you books.

Lachie, Jubel, come in.

I've just given the place a dust and hoover for you.

- Just to put you in the picture about the Bide A Wee spot, Rory, if you just try and imagine you're entertaining an old friend.

Natural and intimate, you understand?

- First things first, Lachie.

Do we have a deal with the other transmission?

- We have a deal, Mr Campbell.

- Good.

Now, let me see.

A close friend, you say?

Hm.

I think we should start with the Jacuzzi.

- First we have to find you a name, Rory.

- I've already thought of one.

- [Lachie] What exactly would you say were the benefits of a Jacuzzi, Big Grocer?

- [Rory] Relaxation, Lachie the Man.

You sink into them bubbles at the end of the day and ooh, the tension just oozes out.

- You come across really well, Big Grocer.

Very authoritative.

- Och, you!

- And now we're in Big Grocer's bedroom, and what a bedroom it is.

The most striking object is the emperor-size four-poster, canopied in what I can only describe as billowing sails of broderie anglaise.

Big Grocer, this is a big bed.

- In a bed that size you get a tremendous feeling of space, which generates a feeling of wellbeing, which in turn generates, well, you know what I mean, Lachie the Man.

You fairly get carried away on the wireless, eh?

(traditional folk tune on radio) - I've made you some Irish stew.

- From a tin?

- Yes.

I've been going over my notes again about this Bide A Wee spot.

First, there's this Big Grocer.

Is he a grocer?

Maybe, maybe not.

But there are two indisputable facts.

One, he has a Jacuzzi.

Two, he's gonna do a live broadcast tomorrow.

They mentioned it, some kind of novelty slot.

- Sidney, I've been seeing things.

- What?

- When I close my eyes, there's a sudden violent storm and four sheep, one with a red stripe across its back.

- Well, that's very interesting, Magda.

I think I've found the key, you know.

A Jacuzzi.

Yes.

- Do you still love me?

- What?

- I said, "Do you still love me?"

- I still care for you, Alex.

- But not love?

- No.

- Is it Isobel?

Just wanted to be sure.

- What's gonna happen?

- If you don't mind, I'd rather not run home to Daddy.

If I could wait a few days and leave from here, I'd appreciate that.

- Are you gonna leave?

- Yes.

It's what I want to do.

- Alex.

- All right?

Where's Barney?

It's gone 11.

Where is he?

- He says he'll be out when he feels like it.

- Oh and Lachlan, wait till you get a sight of this.

- Hey, Barney.

It's nearly half past.

- You're talking time, man.

I no longer recognize that constraint.

- What's he smoking?

- A Gitane, by the smell of it.

French cigarettes, son.

- Cognac.

- Oh, no, just the usual for me, Barney.

And something soft for the boy, considering the time of day.

Away, Lachie Jr, it's your turn to pay.

- Pay?

There's no paying here.

Everything's free, man.

Do you think Barney is bound by the laws of commerce?

I live in good faith, man, from here on in.

In good faith.

Now, don't insult me with talk of paying.

Come and join me in beer!

(all cheering) Yeah!

- How do I look?

- Edible.

- Mr Braithwaite, I think this is a waste of time.

- No, no, no.

There's only one man in Lochdubh with a Jacuzzi, Constable.

And he's a grocer.

- And big with it.

There he is.

- Hello, darling.

Do you want to see my postcards?

- [Lachlan] Oh, God, I need a drink.

- Gitane, baby?

- What's going on?

- Only life, baby.

Only life!

Come, drink with me.

Drink some free spirits from a free spirit.

- Free?

You've been giving it away?

- I've read it here.

Everything.

I opened, I read, I was changed.

It just hit me.

Go on.

- Well, let's see if we can reverse the process.

Baby.

- Stargazer, these phenomenal powers of yours, is there anything that sets them off?

- I find that elemental forces help a great deal, Flipside Jack.

Electricity in particular.

- Electricity?

So you could be assailed by a vision when you're doing the ironing or boiling a kettle.

- Actually, I was thinking more of lightning.

Sometimes a minor jolt will suffice.

- [Jubel] Just a bit of a glitch here, folks, if you heard that.

Stargazer?

Stargazer?

- I'm sorry.

What was I saying?

- Lachie.

- Lachie Jr. Look.

Now, Novelty Time, which tonight sees the return of the Big Grocer, with his very own romantic verse.

- My dearie, in the day as I toil, amidst the jam and the Spam and the tins of ham, I oftentimes get weary.

When my back aches and my limbs shake with fatigue.

And these young old eyes get bleary.

I think of you, my dearie.

I think of the night coming when the owl hoots and I can shed my working boots and into slippers slip, and slip to you, my dearie.

I think of that heaven on earth, while you wait there by the hearth.

My cup full, warm and waiting.

You've even ran the bath.

- Oh, no, Professor Merino, no!

- I am a king, a king.

A king, a king, a king.

But no subject there need fear me nor bend the knee, nor kiss my hand nor otherwise be leery.

For this king reigns but in your heart.

Your precious heart.

My dearie.

- That was great, Mr Campbell.

- Thank you.

(lively folk jig) - There's the sheep, Magda.

They're a good omen, they brought us luck.

- So here endeth Radio Lochdubh.

- [Hamish] Alex, come on.

- Here endeth every bloody thing.

I was to finish tonight, I promised.

- It's not your fault.

- [Alex] No?

- Look, it is not your fault.

- [Alex] Oh, that's so predictable.

- What?

- I made an undertaking.

I said to another human being, "I will do this."

- Oh, Alex, please.

- Please what?

Please don't actually talk about what you've done to me?

I made a promise and it hurts me to break it.

Now, how could you even begin to understand that?

You should have told me.

You should have told me and not had me hanging around here like too much excess baggage.

- Please, Alex, please.

- Leave me.

Leave me.

Just leave me alone.

- Hello, Barney.

- Hamish.

- What happened to him?

- Agnes happened.

Lost the battle, as they say, but won the war.

Who's in the dining room, Barney?

- Nobody.

- There's somebody there.

- It's the couple from the detector van.

(dramatic music) - Just listen to that.

Perhaps I should book us a room.

Maybe you need a change of surroundings.

- No.

- Magda?

Magda, what is it?

- Please make it stop.

- Who is it, woman?

Who?

- For God's sake.

- Let me see.

- [Sidney] Magda?

- Show me.

Oh, no.

- Keep him here.

Don't you go down there, Hamish.

You stay here with me.

- John, you tell me.

You tell me now.

- She's dead, son.

She's dead.

- You know, I always knew you were special, Magda.

Now it seems you're even more special than I thought.

- [Rory] Esme.

(Esme sobbing) (Hamish sobbing) (tense music)