Dear John (1986–1987): Season 1, Episode 4 - The Party - full transcript
(Door opens) Darling, I'm home.
♫ Dear John
♫ Dear John
♫ By the time you read these lines
♫ I'll be gone
♫ Life goes on
♫ Right or wrong
♫ Now it's all been said and done
♫ Dear John
♫ So long
♫ Seems we've sung love's last song
♫ Dear John
(Chatter)
Taylor, come here.
How many times do I have to tell you?
That is a filthy habit.
Oh. Sorry, sir.
Good night, Mr Lacey.
— Good night, Alison.
— Have a nice weekend.
Yes, I'll certainly try.
— See you Monday morning.
— Monday morning.
Whoops, there's goes another teacher's career.
Good afternoon, Kenneth.
I suppose you're off to the hockey pitch now.
Help cut the oranges, rub the liniment in.
Some people could take
great exception to a remark like that.
You know I'm not the kind of man
to hang around a hockey pitch.
Not when there's a netball match going on.
So, another week gone.
Yep. Older but no wiser.
And that's just the pupils.
— Have you got your son this weekend?
— No, he's staying with the grandparents.
I think he looks forward to me not taking him out.
— Oh, come on.
— No, really.
It must be so boring for him.
I wish I'd never bought that season ticket
to the zoo. Poor kid.
He knows more about the love life of an earwig
than David Bellamy.
— How about you?
— No. I'm not into earwigs.
No, I mean,
are you doing anything this weekend?
It's my wedding anniversary tomorrow.
— Oh, I forgot about that.
— I wish I could.
— We're having a party tomorrow night.
— Really? Family?
No, friends mainIy.
Oh. I hope it goes well, Ken.
They usually turn out all right.
— Oh, I'm sorry, mate.
— No, no, no.
It's OK.
I'm extremely busy tomorrow evening anyway.
— You know you're very welcome.
— All right. What time?
8:30—ish.
I wanted to invite you
but Maggie thought it might be embarrassing.
- Why?
— It's all couples.
Mags thought you might feel left out.
I said, “John'II bring one of his women.“
Right. What women?
One of the ones you tell me about.
From the clubs. Discos.
Oh. Them women.
Good idea.
Can I give you a lift?
Maggie's round at her sister's.
I'm going by your place.
Thanks, Ken, that'd be a great help.
I suppose you're going to your club tonight.
What's it called? The 1—2—3 Club?
- The 1-2-1 Club.
— It's certainly given you a new lease of life.
It's just a club for divorced
and separated people.
Don't give me that, you old rascal.
I know you too well.
You certainly do live the life.
It's there to be lived, Ken.
Could you stop off at
the Kentucky Fried Chicken shop?
Sorry about this.
I left it a bit late to go shopping this week.
We always go late—night shopping
on Thursdays.
It's the night the whole world goes to Tescos.
I don't understand why they all go to
the same bloody Tescos.
I knew there was something I had to tell you.
Last night Maggie and I had just come round
dairy produce,
we're heading up towards frozen fish,
who should we bump into.
Who?
Jennifer Asquith.
Jen...
JenniferAsquith. Well, well, well.
She's back in London, hm?
Moved down here three months ago.
She's living back in her old flat.
If my memory serves me right,
you know her old flat better than most.
You two had quite a thing going, didn't you?
It was a long time ago.
We were still at university.
How is she?
Stunning is the only word to describe her.
You knew her during the budding stage.
She is now in full bloom,
and you should see the petals on her.
Why did you ever let her go?
She became rather... possessive.
I felt I needed my freedom.
And she packed me in for an American airman,
which didn't help.
You must have her number.
Why don't you give her a ring?
- Why?
— For old times' sake.
That's not really me.
I'm not one to go raking over old ground.
Maybe you could bring her to the party
tomorrow night.
I'm not sure that would be wise.
Come on, give her a ring.
— I don't know.
— Come on.
Maybe, Ken, maybe.
Jennifer Asquith's back in town!
Thank you, God!
When I think back to those balmy days
at Essex university
and Jennifer Asquith.
That incredible weekend at Walton—on—the—Naze
when she nicknamed me Action Man.
There was that night in my digs
when I'd drunk too much rum punch...
Well, that kind of thing can happen to any man.
What's one bad night in Colchester compared to
the miracle of Walton—on—the—Naze,
the night the stars formed in perfect symmetry,
the fates smiled upon me and angels
stood on the headboard cheering me on.
Thank you, God!
You're a lunatic person.
They should put you in a home
for fruitcase people.
Hello, Mrs Lemenski.
I didn't know you'd barged in.
Sometimes I hear you talk to yourself.
Now you talk to God.
You're a crazy man. Off your trolley.
I know and I don't care. Have a chip.
I Midnight
I All alone with my memories
Ah!
You madman.
Mrs Lemenski. you may not be aware of this
but this is a wonderful day.
For the first time in over a year
someone has invited me to a party.
This room is a mess already.
Now you're going to clutter it up
with Tupperware.
When I think back to those camping trips
and the physical Shangri—La
that lay beneath her thermal vest.
Oh, let her be in, God, and I promise
I'll never mime in assembly again.
(Pips)
Jen... Jennifer?
Hi. Who is it?
(Lowers voice) This is a voice from your past.
It's John.
Yeah, that's right.
It's been along... John.
You remember.
John.
Action Man.
Oh.
Yeah. That's right. So, how are you?
Good. John.
We spent four years together
at Essex university.
Yes.
John Lacey.
We were engaged.
Once seen never forgotten, eh?
So, life's treating you well, huh?
Oh, that's nice to hear.
Not too bad, all things considered.
I'm still teaching at... What?
Slimmish kind of a guy, dark hair,
used to have a...
..a Mexican moustache.
That's the fella. You got him.
I was talking to Ken Shelton just earlier
and he said he'd bumped into you.
Hope it didn't hurt too much.
It just started all the old memories flowing.
I thought back to that unforgettable weekend
at Walton—on—the—Naze.
Oh, boy, that was really something.
Yes, you were there.
It was a Bank Holiday and you and I
went down to Walton—on—the...
No, no, no. The night you're thinking of
was in my digs in Colchester.
As I said at the time, I'd had a lot to drink...
That's all in the past, isn't it?
Anyway, what are you doing now?
What do you mean “making the carpet wet“?
Oh, you're in the bath.
Why don't you call me back when you're ready?
My number is...
992 9192.
Yeah. Great.
I'll talk to you in a couple of minutes.
Yeah. Good.
Bye for now.
Jennifer Asquith.
Nude.
Wet and nude
and covered in soap suds.
Thank you, God!
I wonder if she's playing hard to get.
She used to play hard to get.
At least, with me she did.
She's not going to phone back.
I should have known she wouldn't phone back.
You pathetic fool.
Why do you always kid yourself?
Well this is it. The day the kidding had to stop.
It's feet on the ground time, warts and all
and no more ridiculous excuses.
Maybe the phone 's broken.
That's it. The bloody phone's broken.
Hello, operator.
I'd like to report a fault on a line.
This line.
It sounds all right to me as well
but I've got a feeling my machine
no longer accepts incoming calls.
Because it doesn't ring.
Because it hasn't rung.
I would appreciate it if you or the engineer
could test the line.
I'm sorry, it's just that I'm expecting
a very important call.
Thank you.
Hello, operator, it's me again.
My number is 992 9192.
Thank you.
You're still here eating chickens?
Yes, still here.
Three hours now you wait.
I know.
This woman you wait for,
is she tall and very fat person?
No, what makes you say that?
She takes a hell of a time to dry herself.
I've got a feeling this phone isn't working.
— (Dial tone)
— You hear that noise?
— Mm.
— Means phone is working.
But it doesn't ring.
That's good. There's enough ding—a—ling
in this house already.
Why don't you ring her again?
— No.
— You're too proud?
I've already rung back three times
and there's no reply.
I've been through my book.
I've called all my other ex—girlfriends.
They're both married.
I didn't want to go to that party anyway.
Why you be like this?
Why must you always be loony man?
Why you smash your head on wall?
I have to do it, Mrs Lemenski.
It's the only thing that stops me from going mad.
You ask did I love her.
(Mouths)
Oh, yeah, I loved her.
I loved her as much as...
..she loved me.
We loved each other, you see.
Yes.
The first time I met her
I saw the sun rise in her eyes.
Eurgh!
We'd only known each other a couple of hours
when I said to her:
Lola, you're the chick I'm gonna marry.
She wanted a white wedding.
Crazy little cookie.
But I didn't mind. I can wear white.
She loved that musical Jesus Christ Superstar.
As we walked down the aisle
the choir sang a selection of songs from it.
Lucky she wasn't an Ipi Tombi fan, isn't it?
I can see I've brought back
some sweet memories, Ralphie.
No, I've got a boil on my shoulder.
Sorry, Ralph.
And then we spent our first night together.
She was a virgin.
Do you know what she said to me
in the morning?
No, but I've a feeling we're going to find out.
She said to me, “Kirk, I will never ever
make love to another man."
You mean, one night with you
and she turned into a lesbian.
Do you like kicking people when they're down?
No, just you.
Are all frigid women like you?
I don't like that subject being brought up.
Well, it's all part of the constructive flow, dear.
We're being positive.
That's what we're here for, isn't it?
To talk those nasty hang—ups out of our lives.
But I haven't paid good money
to be insulted by this cretinous cowboy.
OK, let's cool it, yah?
You're asking the ice maiden to cool it.
She's been divorced on the grounds of frostbite.
Let's hold it right there.
This is no longer constructive.
Do you wish to continue, dear?
— Yeah.
— Oh, all right, then.
Well, it was when we came back from St Lucia
that things began to go wrong.
We'd just spent four wonderful sun—soaked,
love—filled weeks together,
drinking champagne, making love on the sand,
dancing the night away.
My daughter went on one of them Club 18—30
holidays.
Club 18... You've got too much to say
for yourself, Mrs Arnott.
Can you honestly imagine me, Kirk St Moritz,
on a Club 18—30 holiday?
— That's ridiculous.
— Thanks, Ralphie.
Kirk wouldn't qualify.
Not unless they took mental age into account.
— Oh, miss.
— Let him continue, dear.
We'll be here all night otherwise.
Go on, dear.
Yeah, well, it was when we came back off
our honeymoon things began to go wrong.
It was her and her insane jealousy.
If we were at a party and Lola found me
in a corner with some other chick —
nothing heavy, just plutonic foreplay —
she'd go wild.
She wanted me. That I could dig.
But she wanted me all to herself,
and greed has never been my scene.
So, finally, we split.
Thank God.
I thought it would be easy.
But when I saw her standing in the hall
with her little Gucci suitcase
and she closed that door for the last time,
I felt like a razor was tearing at my heart.
I called after her. I said: Come back!
She didn't, did she?
I said: Baby! (Sobs)
— Sorry I'm late.
— Oh, don't mention it, dear.
— How's things?
— About average.
— Evening, John.
— Hello, Ralph.
Mrs Arnott, Kirk.
What kept you, dear? No problems I hope.
— I was waiting for an important phone call.
— Really? Anything exciting?
An old friend. I didn't get the call.
Oi, oi, oi, oi.
Any chance of me finishing my story?
— Sorry, Kirk, did I interrupt you?
— I was bearing my soul. I was bleeding.
Sorry. Carry on.
Yeah. Shall I start at the beginning?
ALL: No!
It's quite all right, dear.
I'm sure John will get the drift.
Er, right, where was I?
Standing in the hall, Gucci suitcase,
closed door, so I called out and said:
Baby!
Come back! We can work it out.
I wanted to run after her
but then I realised it was too late.
It was over between us.
And Lola packing her bags
and leaving me like that
was just her way of letting me know. (Sobs)
Fine. Well, I have some news for you
of forthcoming events.
Discos, parties, things like that.
Melanie Haddock, a Wednesday night person,
has invited us round for drinks.
Louise, no comments, questions, discussions?
I'm not sure.
Anyone?
No. Fine. That's Tuesday the 9th.
Perhaps you'd like to make a note.
Does she ever write to you, Kirk?
Yeah, she sends me a letter every week.
Well, why don't you bring them in?
We'll read them to you.
I sense a chill in here.
Miss Birds Eye just crossed her legs.
Drop dead, you idiot.
I think this would be a good point
to break for coffee, OK, yah?
Fine. Good.
Shall I bring one back for you, John?
— Thanks, Kate.
— Ralph?
Tea for me, please, Kate.
Have I upset her?
Do you have to say things like that to Kate?
Can't you see she's got enough problems
without you adding to them with stupid remarks?
Well, that's the kind of guy I am.
Be fair, John,
Kate says some nasty things as well.
That's right.
What about what she said about the letters
from Kirk's wife?
"Why don't you bring them in?
We can read them to you."
Doesn't she think Kirk's got friends of his own
who could do that?
Right on, buddy.
All right. Sorry I spoke.
I've got enough on my mind without getting
involved in other people's problems.
What's wrong? You seem a bit low this evening.
I'll tell you what's wrong.
One of my colleagues from work has invited me
to a party tomorrow night.
It's the first party I've been invited to
since my divorce.
But it's all couples.
I've got to take someone with me.
That phone call I was waiting for
was from my ex—fiancee.
I was hoping she'd come for old times' sake.
It's at moments like this you realise
how few people you really know.
I'm not doing anything tomorrow night.
No, Ralph, it has to be a woman.
You see, amongst my male colleagues
I've got something of a reputation.
Oh, and you're trying to prove they're wrong.
No, I'm trying to prove they're right.
For some reason they seem to think of me
as a playboy.
Ha!
They sound a fun crowd.
So, your problem is you are chickless
tomorrow night.
That's one way of putting it.
That's no sweat. You can borrow one of mine.
It's a very important night for me.
The last thing I need is a blind date
with one of your birds.
What are you saying? The chicks I go with
aren't good enough for you?
I'm not saying that.
It's imperative that the woman I take
must have some grasp of the social graces.
She must be able to conduct herself
in a ladylike fashion.
She must know how to talk
and know how to eat.
And you think
I don't know any upmarket chicks?
Let's see.
When you say she must be able to conduct
herself in a ladylike fashion,
what do you actually mean?
She mustn't get drunk or throw pickled onions
across the room
and she mustn't spit in the kitchen sink.
Little things like that.
Oh, so we're looking for class.
— You're adamant about the spitting?
— Yes.
I've got just the lady for you. You will love her.
I'm not taking anyone called Jaws.
This chick does nothing but talk.
Once she starts you can't stop her.
Thanks for trying but let's forget it, eh?
I wish I knew some women.
Ralph, I'll find someone for myself.
No, I'm just saying. I wish I knew some women.
Oh, I see, sorry.
Thanks, Kate.
Thank you.
— Kate...
— How much do I owe you?
That's all right, Ralph. That's my pleasure.
Well, something turns her on, then.
— Did you say something?
— A word.
— Kate...
— Why don't you loosen up a bit?
Why don't you keep your nose out of my affairs?
Affairs? Where'd you get them?
Rent-a-eunuch?
I'll come over there and pour this coffee
right over your ugly head in a minute.
— Nice coffee.
— Yes?
Yes. Kate...
— I'll tell you something.
— God bless us all.
You are one uptight lady.
You make Mary Poppins look tacky.
Oh, that's where you take your chicks, is it?
Adult films.
Slimebag.
I see you two are being positive again.
I'll just pin this on the board outside
and I'll be right back.
I fetched you some coffee.
I knew you hadn't got any.
Oh, thank you.
Did you bring any sugar?
— No.
— I don't drink coffee without sugar.
Shall I run back to the cafeteria
and get you some?
It would be a good idea.
These people, they never think.
Are you doing anything exciting
over the weekend?
No!
I'm sorry, John. No, nothing exciting.
So you're not going out tomorrow evening?
No. Are you?
I am, as it happens. Perhaps...
— I wish I was.
- What?
I haven't been out on a Saturday for years.
Why don't you come round to my place
and have supper with me?
That would be nice, Kate. Thank you very much.
— You like sparkling wine, don't you?
— Yes. And no broccoli.
— Sorry?
— I'm allergic to broccoli.
— It brings me out in a rash.
— Fine. No broccoli.
About eight o'clock suit you?
Not going are you, dear?
I've just remembered
I forgot to leave the gas on.
See you next week.
Don't forget Mrs Haddock's evening.
Louise?
I've been invited to a party tomorrow night.
— Oh. Super.
— Yes.
— I wandered if you'd like to come with me.
— That's very kind of you, dear.
But I don't think it's a good idea.
— Why not?
— Because I know exactly what would happen.
We would go to the party, have a few drinks
and eventually the combination of alcohol
and close physical contact
would create such an atmosphere of stimulation
and arousal that our inhibitions would take flight.
Then we'd stop off at your place or mine
and have a coffee and a liqueur,
lights would be lowered, soft music played,
and eventually you wouldn't be able to stop
yourself nibbling my ear and talking dirty.
Things like that.
We wouldn't be able to stop ourselves
spending a night of abandoned passion
and then in the morning we may, just may,
regret it. Yah?
— No.
— You wouldn't regret it?
— I wouldn't do it.
— No?
— No.
— Tomorrow's bad for me, dear.
There are nigh on seven million people
living in London...
..and 51.8% of them are women.
That's er...three million
four hundred and ninety—nine thousand
eight hundred women.
I only want one.
She doesn't have to be a film star,
a beauty queen, a model.
All she has to be is free tomorrow night,
that's all.
I don't think I'll go to that party.
I didn't really fancy it anyway.
I'll just make an excuse, say I'm out, busy.
Dead. Something like that.
(Phone rings)
MRS LEMENSKI: Hello.
Yes.
Wait.
(Knocking)
— Mad Person?
— Yes.
There's a telephone for you. It's a crazy woman.
It's my wife?
No. Your wife not crazy woman.
She get rid of you.
This is crazy...
This is crazy woman. She phones you.
Thank you very much, Mrs Lemenski.
Hello.
Oh, hi.
Please, don't apologise.
I'm the most forgetful person in the world.
I do understand. Really.
I've been pretty busy myself this evening.
I went to a club.
I haven't been in all that long.
No, no, you didn't wake me up.
I was just unwinding with a brandy
and the late film.
Oh, yes, I see.
I was wondering,
are you likely to be busy tomorrow evening?
You see, I've been invited to a party
and I was wondering if you would...
Please say no if you don't want to,
but I was wondering
if you'd like to come with me.
It's in Acton.
27 Langham Road.
Oh, you know it.
What do you think?
You would? Really?
Great! That's fine.
Shall I pick you up or meet you there?
Fine. I'll meet you there about 8:30, then.
Good.
Yeah, I'll look forward to it. You too.
Good night, operator.
♫ People change
♫ Can't explain
♫ Like the weather
♫ One day sun, next day rain
♫ Whatever happened to the plans we made?
♫ Seems that they ended with the masquerade
♫ Life goes on
♫ Right or wrong
♫ Now it's all been said and done
♫ Dear John
♫ Dear John
♫ Dear John
♫ By the time you read these lines
♫ I'll be gone
♫ Life goes on
♫ Right or wrong
♫ Now it's all been said and done
♫ Dear John
♫ So long
♫ Seems we've sung love's last song
♫ Dear John
(Chatter)
Taylor, come here.
How many times do I have to tell you?
That is a filthy habit.
Oh. Sorry, sir.
Good night, Mr Lacey.
— Good night, Alison.
— Have a nice weekend.
Yes, I'll certainly try.
— See you Monday morning.
— Monday morning.
Whoops, there's goes another teacher's career.
Good afternoon, Kenneth.
I suppose you're off to the hockey pitch now.
Help cut the oranges, rub the liniment in.
Some people could take
great exception to a remark like that.
You know I'm not the kind of man
to hang around a hockey pitch.
Not when there's a netball match going on.
So, another week gone.
Yep. Older but no wiser.
And that's just the pupils.
— Have you got your son this weekend?
— No, he's staying with the grandparents.
I think he looks forward to me not taking him out.
— Oh, come on.
— No, really.
It must be so boring for him.
I wish I'd never bought that season ticket
to the zoo. Poor kid.
He knows more about the love life of an earwig
than David Bellamy.
— How about you?
— No. I'm not into earwigs.
No, I mean,
are you doing anything this weekend?
It's my wedding anniversary tomorrow.
— Oh, I forgot about that.
— I wish I could.
— We're having a party tomorrow night.
— Really? Family?
No, friends mainIy.
Oh. I hope it goes well, Ken.
They usually turn out all right.
— Oh, I'm sorry, mate.
— No, no, no.
It's OK.
I'm extremely busy tomorrow evening anyway.
— You know you're very welcome.
— All right. What time?
8:30—ish.
I wanted to invite you
but Maggie thought it might be embarrassing.
- Why?
— It's all couples.
Mags thought you might feel left out.
I said, “John'II bring one of his women.“
Right. What women?
One of the ones you tell me about.
From the clubs. Discos.
Oh. Them women.
Good idea.
Can I give you a lift?
Maggie's round at her sister's.
I'm going by your place.
Thanks, Ken, that'd be a great help.
I suppose you're going to your club tonight.
What's it called? The 1—2—3 Club?
- The 1-2-1 Club.
— It's certainly given you a new lease of life.
It's just a club for divorced
and separated people.
Don't give me that, you old rascal.
I know you too well.
You certainly do live the life.
It's there to be lived, Ken.
Could you stop off at
the Kentucky Fried Chicken shop?
Sorry about this.
I left it a bit late to go shopping this week.
We always go late—night shopping
on Thursdays.
It's the night the whole world goes to Tescos.
I don't understand why they all go to
the same bloody Tescos.
I knew there was something I had to tell you.
Last night Maggie and I had just come round
dairy produce,
we're heading up towards frozen fish,
who should we bump into.
Who?
Jennifer Asquith.
Jen...
JenniferAsquith. Well, well, well.
She's back in London, hm?
Moved down here three months ago.
She's living back in her old flat.
If my memory serves me right,
you know her old flat better than most.
You two had quite a thing going, didn't you?
It was a long time ago.
We were still at university.
How is she?
Stunning is the only word to describe her.
You knew her during the budding stage.
She is now in full bloom,
and you should see the petals on her.
Why did you ever let her go?
She became rather... possessive.
I felt I needed my freedom.
And she packed me in for an American airman,
which didn't help.
You must have her number.
Why don't you give her a ring?
- Why?
— For old times' sake.
That's not really me.
I'm not one to go raking over old ground.
Maybe you could bring her to the party
tomorrow night.
I'm not sure that would be wise.
Come on, give her a ring.
— I don't know.
— Come on.
Maybe, Ken, maybe.
Jennifer Asquith's back in town!
Thank you, God!
When I think back to those balmy days
at Essex university
and Jennifer Asquith.
That incredible weekend at Walton—on—the—Naze
when she nicknamed me Action Man.
There was that night in my digs
when I'd drunk too much rum punch...
Well, that kind of thing can happen to any man.
What's one bad night in Colchester compared to
the miracle of Walton—on—the—Naze,
the night the stars formed in perfect symmetry,
the fates smiled upon me and angels
stood on the headboard cheering me on.
Thank you, God!
You're a lunatic person.
They should put you in a home
for fruitcase people.
Hello, Mrs Lemenski.
I didn't know you'd barged in.
Sometimes I hear you talk to yourself.
Now you talk to God.
You're a crazy man. Off your trolley.
I know and I don't care. Have a chip.
I Midnight
I All alone with my memories
Ah!
You madman.
Mrs Lemenski. you may not be aware of this
but this is a wonderful day.
For the first time in over a year
someone has invited me to a party.
This room is a mess already.
Now you're going to clutter it up
with Tupperware.
When I think back to those camping trips
and the physical Shangri—La
that lay beneath her thermal vest.
Oh, let her be in, God, and I promise
I'll never mime in assembly again.
(Pips)
Jen... Jennifer?
Hi. Who is it?
(Lowers voice) This is a voice from your past.
It's John.
Yeah, that's right.
It's been along... John.
You remember.
John.
Action Man.
Oh.
Yeah. That's right. So, how are you?
Good. John.
We spent four years together
at Essex university.
Yes.
John Lacey.
We were engaged.
Once seen never forgotten, eh?
So, life's treating you well, huh?
Oh, that's nice to hear.
Not too bad, all things considered.
I'm still teaching at... What?
Slimmish kind of a guy, dark hair,
used to have a...
..a Mexican moustache.
That's the fella. You got him.
I was talking to Ken Shelton just earlier
and he said he'd bumped into you.
Hope it didn't hurt too much.
It just started all the old memories flowing.
I thought back to that unforgettable weekend
at Walton—on—the—Naze.
Oh, boy, that was really something.
Yes, you were there.
It was a Bank Holiday and you and I
went down to Walton—on—the...
No, no, no. The night you're thinking of
was in my digs in Colchester.
As I said at the time, I'd had a lot to drink...
That's all in the past, isn't it?
Anyway, what are you doing now?
What do you mean “making the carpet wet“?
Oh, you're in the bath.
Why don't you call me back when you're ready?
My number is...
992 9192.
Yeah. Great.
I'll talk to you in a couple of minutes.
Yeah. Good.
Bye for now.
Jennifer Asquith.
Nude.
Wet and nude
and covered in soap suds.
Thank you, God!
I wonder if she's playing hard to get.
She used to play hard to get.
At least, with me she did.
She's not going to phone back.
I should have known she wouldn't phone back.
You pathetic fool.
Why do you always kid yourself?
Well this is it. The day the kidding had to stop.
It's feet on the ground time, warts and all
and no more ridiculous excuses.
Maybe the phone 's broken.
That's it. The bloody phone's broken.
Hello, operator.
I'd like to report a fault on a line.
This line.
It sounds all right to me as well
but I've got a feeling my machine
no longer accepts incoming calls.
Because it doesn't ring.
Because it hasn't rung.
I would appreciate it if you or the engineer
could test the line.
I'm sorry, it's just that I'm expecting
a very important call.
Thank you.
Hello, operator, it's me again.
My number is 992 9192.
Thank you.
You're still here eating chickens?
Yes, still here.
Three hours now you wait.
I know.
This woman you wait for,
is she tall and very fat person?
No, what makes you say that?
She takes a hell of a time to dry herself.
I've got a feeling this phone isn't working.
— (Dial tone)
— You hear that noise?
— Mm.
— Means phone is working.
But it doesn't ring.
That's good. There's enough ding—a—ling
in this house already.
Why don't you ring her again?
— No.
— You're too proud?
I've already rung back three times
and there's no reply.
I've been through my book.
I've called all my other ex—girlfriends.
They're both married.
I didn't want to go to that party anyway.
Why you be like this?
Why must you always be loony man?
Why you smash your head on wall?
I have to do it, Mrs Lemenski.
It's the only thing that stops me from going mad.
You ask did I love her.
(Mouths)
Oh, yeah, I loved her.
I loved her as much as...
..she loved me.
We loved each other, you see.
Yes.
The first time I met her
I saw the sun rise in her eyes.
Eurgh!
We'd only known each other a couple of hours
when I said to her:
Lola, you're the chick I'm gonna marry.
She wanted a white wedding.
Crazy little cookie.
But I didn't mind. I can wear white.
She loved that musical Jesus Christ Superstar.
As we walked down the aisle
the choir sang a selection of songs from it.
Lucky she wasn't an Ipi Tombi fan, isn't it?
I can see I've brought back
some sweet memories, Ralphie.
No, I've got a boil on my shoulder.
Sorry, Ralph.
And then we spent our first night together.
She was a virgin.
Do you know what she said to me
in the morning?
No, but I've a feeling we're going to find out.
She said to me, “Kirk, I will never ever
make love to another man."
You mean, one night with you
and she turned into a lesbian.
Do you like kicking people when they're down?
No, just you.
Are all frigid women like you?
I don't like that subject being brought up.
Well, it's all part of the constructive flow, dear.
We're being positive.
That's what we're here for, isn't it?
To talk those nasty hang—ups out of our lives.
But I haven't paid good money
to be insulted by this cretinous cowboy.
OK, let's cool it, yah?
You're asking the ice maiden to cool it.
She's been divorced on the grounds of frostbite.
Let's hold it right there.
This is no longer constructive.
Do you wish to continue, dear?
— Yeah.
— Oh, all right, then.
Well, it was when we came back from St Lucia
that things began to go wrong.
We'd just spent four wonderful sun—soaked,
love—filled weeks together,
drinking champagne, making love on the sand,
dancing the night away.
My daughter went on one of them Club 18—30
holidays.
Club 18... You've got too much to say
for yourself, Mrs Arnott.
Can you honestly imagine me, Kirk St Moritz,
on a Club 18—30 holiday?
— That's ridiculous.
— Thanks, Ralphie.
Kirk wouldn't qualify.
Not unless they took mental age into account.
— Oh, miss.
— Let him continue, dear.
We'll be here all night otherwise.
Go on, dear.
Yeah, well, it was when we came back off
our honeymoon things began to go wrong.
It was her and her insane jealousy.
If we were at a party and Lola found me
in a corner with some other chick —
nothing heavy, just plutonic foreplay —
she'd go wild.
She wanted me. That I could dig.
But she wanted me all to herself,
and greed has never been my scene.
So, finally, we split.
Thank God.
I thought it would be easy.
But when I saw her standing in the hall
with her little Gucci suitcase
and she closed that door for the last time,
I felt like a razor was tearing at my heart.
I called after her. I said: Come back!
She didn't, did she?
I said: Baby! (Sobs)
— Sorry I'm late.
— Oh, don't mention it, dear.
— How's things?
— About average.
— Evening, John.
— Hello, Ralph.
Mrs Arnott, Kirk.
What kept you, dear? No problems I hope.
— I was waiting for an important phone call.
— Really? Anything exciting?
An old friend. I didn't get the call.
Oi, oi, oi, oi.
Any chance of me finishing my story?
— Sorry, Kirk, did I interrupt you?
— I was bearing my soul. I was bleeding.
Sorry. Carry on.
Yeah. Shall I start at the beginning?
ALL: No!
It's quite all right, dear.
I'm sure John will get the drift.
Er, right, where was I?
Standing in the hall, Gucci suitcase,
closed door, so I called out and said:
Baby!
Come back! We can work it out.
I wanted to run after her
but then I realised it was too late.
It was over between us.
And Lola packing her bags
and leaving me like that
was just her way of letting me know. (Sobs)
Fine. Well, I have some news for you
of forthcoming events.
Discos, parties, things like that.
Melanie Haddock, a Wednesday night person,
has invited us round for drinks.
Louise, no comments, questions, discussions?
I'm not sure.
Anyone?
No. Fine. That's Tuesday the 9th.
Perhaps you'd like to make a note.
Does she ever write to you, Kirk?
Yeah, she sends me a letter every week.
Well, why don't you bring them in?
We'll read them to you.
I sense a chill in here.
Miss Birds Eye just crossed her legs.
Drop dead, you idiot.
I think this would be a good point
to break for coffee, OK, yah?
Fine. Good.
Shall I bring one back for you, John?
— Thanks, Kate.
— Ralph?
Tea for me, please, Kate.
Have I upset her?
Do you have to say things like that to Kate?
Can't you see she's got enough problems
without you adding to them with stupid remarks?
Well, that's the kind of guy I am.
Be fair, John,
Kate says some nasty things as well.
That's right.
What about what she said about the letters
from Kirk's wife?
"Why don't you bring them in?
We can read them to you."
Doesn't she think Kirk's got friends of his own
who could do that?
Right on, buddy.
All right. Sorry I spoke.
I've got enough on my mind without getting
involved in other people's problems.
What's wrong? You seem a bit low this evening.
I'll tell you what's wrong.
One of my colleagues from work has invited me
to a party tomorrow night.
It's the first party I've been invited to
since my divorce.
But it's all couples.
I've got to take someone with me.
That phone call I was waiting for
was from my ex—fiancee.
I was hoping she'd come for old times' sake.
It's at moments like this you realise
how few people you really know.
I'm not doing anything tomorrow night.
No, Ralph, it has to be a woman.
You see, amongst my male colleagues
I've got something of a reputation.
Oh, and you're trying to prove they're wrong.
No, I'm trying to prove they're right.
For some reason they seem to think of me
as a playboy.
Ha!
They sound a fun crowd.
So, your problem is you are chickless
tomorrow night.
That's one way of putting it.
That's no sweat. You can borrow one of mine.
It's a very important night for me.
The last thing I need is a blind date
with one of your birds.
What are you saying? The chicks I go with
aren't good enough for you?
I'm not saying that.
It's imperative that the woman I take
must have some grasp of the social graces.
She must be able to conduct herself
in a ladylike fashion.
She must know how to talk
and know how to eat.
And you think
I don't know any upmarket chicks?
Let's see.
When you say she must be able to conduct
herself in a ladylike fashion,
what do you actually mean?
She mustn't get drunk or throw pickled onions
across the room
and she mustn't spit in the kitchen sink.
Little things like that.
Oh, so we're looking for class.
— You're adamant about the spitting?
— Yes.
I've got just the lady for you. You will love her.
I'm not taking anyone called Jaws.
This chick does nothing but talk.
Once she starts you can't stop her.
Thanks for trying but let's forget it, eh?
I wish I knew some women.
Ralph, I'll find someone for myself.
No, I'm just saying. I wish I knew some women.
Oh, I see, sorry.
Thanks, Kate.
Thank you.
— Kate...
— How much do I owe you?
That's all right, Ralph. That's my pleasure.
Well, something turns her on, then.
— Did you say something?
— A word.
— Kate...
— Why don't you loosen up a bit?
Why don't you keep your nose out of my affairs?
Affairs? Where'd you get them?
Rent-a-eunuch?
I'll come over there and pour this coffee
right over your ugly head in a minute.
— Nice coffee.
— Yes?
Yes. Kate...
— I'll tell you something.
— God bless us all.
You are one uptight lady.
You make Mary Poppins look tacky.
Oh, that's where you take your chicks, is it?
Adult films.
Slimebag.
I see you two are being positive again.
I'll just pin this on the board outside
and I'll be right back.
I fetched you some coffee.
I knew you hadn't got any.
Oh, thank you.
Did you bring any sugar?
— No.
— I don't drink coffee without sugar.
Shall I run back to the cafeteria
and get you some?
It would be a good idea.
These people, they never think.
Are you doing anything exciting
over the weekend?
No!
I'm sorry, John. No, nothing exciting.
So you're not going out tomorrow evening?
No. Are you?
I am, as it happens. Perhaps...
— I wish I was.
- What?
I haven't been out on a Saturday for years.
Why don't you come round to my place
and have supper with me?
That would be nice, Kate. Thank you very much.
— You like sparkling wine, don't you?
— Yes. And no broccoli.
— Sorry?
— I'm allergic to broccoli.
— It brings me out in a rash.
— Fine. No broccoli.
About eight o'clock suit you?
Not going are you, dear?
I've just remembered
I forgot to leave the gas on.
See you next week.
Don't forget Mrs Haddock's evening.
Louise?
I've been invited to a party tomorrow night.
— Oh. Super.
— Yes.
— I wandered if you'd like to come with me.
— That's very kind of you, dear.
But I don't think it's a good idea.
— Why not?
— Because I know exactly what would happen.
We would go to the party, have a few drinks
and eventually the combination of alcohol
and close physical contact
would create such an atmosphere of stimulation
and arousal that our inhibitions would take flight.
Then we'd stop off at your place or mine
and have a coffee and a liqueur,
lights would be lowered, soft music played,
and eventually you wouldn't be able to stop
yourself nibbling my ear and talking dirty.
Things like that.
We wouldn't be able to stop ourselves
spending a night of abandoned passion
and then in the morning we may, just may,
regret it. Yah?
— No.
— You wouldn't regret it?
— I wouldn't do it.
— No?
— No.
— Tomorrow's bad for me, dear.
There are nigh on seven million people
living in London...
..and 51.8% of them are women.
That's er...three million
four hundred and ninety—nine thousand
eight hundred women.
I only want one.
She doesn't have to be a film star,
a beauty queen, a model.
All she has to be is free tomorrow night,
that's all.
I don't think I'll go to that party.
I didn't really fancy it anyway.
I'll just make an excuse, say I'm out, busy.
Dead. Something like that.
(Phone rings)
MRS LEMENSKI: Hello.
Yes.
Wait.
(Knocking)
— Mad Person?
— Yes.
There's a telephone for you. It's a crazy woman.
It's my wife?
No. Your wife not crazy woman.
She get rid of you.
This is crazy...
This is crazy woman. She phones you.
Thank you very much, Mrs Lemenski.
Hello.
Oh, hi.
Please, don't apologise.
I'm the most forgetful person in the world.
I do understand. Really.
I've been pretty busy myself this evening.
I went to a club.
I haven't been in all that long.
No, no, you didn't wake me up.
I was just unwinding with a brandy
and the late film.
Oh, yes, I see.
I was wondering,
are you likely to be busy tomorrow evening?
You see, I've been invited to a party
and I was wondering if you would...
Please say no if you don't want to,
but I was wondering
if you'd like to come with me.
It's in Acton.
27 Langham Road.
Oh, you know it.
What do you think?
You would? Really?
Great! That's fine.
Shall I pick you up or meet you there?
Fine. I'll meet you there about 8:30, then.
Good.
Yeah, I'll look forward to it. You too.
Good night, operator.
♫ People change
♫ Can't explain
♫ Like the weather
♫ One day sun, next day rain
♫ Whatever happened to the plans we made?
♫ Seems that they ended with the masquerade
♫ Life goes on
♫ Right or wrong
♫ Now it's all been said and done
♫ Dear John