Good Neighbors (1975–1978): Season 1, Episode 6 - The Pagan Rite - full transcript
Tom's former employer, instructs Jerry to invite the Good's to a dinner party. Sir Andrew tries to entice back to work by offering freelance work. After initially saying no Tom reconsiders the offer in the wake of an intimate discussion with Barbara. Tom scheming nearly comes undone as Barbara discovers part of Tom's secret and what it will mean for her
Did you know that the Surinam toad
has got a pointed head?
What brought that up?
Don't know...
Makes you think of things like that, cobbling.
Oh.
Has it really... got a pointed head?
- What?
- This toad.
Yeah. I read that
in my Boys' Book Of Knowledge.
- When?
- When I was a boy.
Ask a silly question...
Look at that - another couple of quid saved! By
the way, where did you get the rubber for these?
Oh, er... some old thing I cut up.
That's my wet suit!
- Ah, no, I wanted that!
- What for?
- For water-skiing. What do you think?
- You only went once, six years ago.
- Was it?
- Yes. It frightened you so much, you gave it up.
I was not frightened.
The conditions were against me, that's all.
- Those waves were pretty high, you know!
- Waves? On a reservoir?
- I could still use it on my holidays.
- You said we can't afford a holiday
for the next ten years.
It was the maniac driving the boat
that was the trouble.
Called himself an instructor?
Stop, start, jerking me off my feet...
Didn't give me the right size skis, too.
I know that for a fact.
- Hello.
TOM & BARBARA: Hi, Jerry!
Moth?
No, no. Just an old wet suit I didn't want
any more, so I thought I'd put it to good use.
- You are becoming a jack of all trades!
- Have to be, mate.
Mind you, these craftsmen,
they make a mystique about their trades.
When you come down to it,
anyone can do it.
All you need is a little application
and a bit of common sense. Here we go.
Oh, God! Nails.
- (Chuckles)
- Oh! Sadist! What do you want, anyway?
Just because you're in pain,
no need to forget your manners.
What do you want, Leadbetter?
Actually, I came to invite you two charmers
around to dinner tomorrow.
- It's kind of you, but we can't keep doing that.
- Doing what?
- We're not in a position to reciprocate, are we?
- Reciprocate?
Look, it's just a couple of mates
asking a couple of mates round to dinner!
- No, really. Thanks, all the same.
- But... you've got to come.
Leadbetter, you speak with forked tongue.
You've got an ulterior motive.
Don't make such a case out of it.
It's just a casual invitation.
That's all - except for the ulterior motive.
- What?
- Well, actually, it's Sir.
He's ordered me to ask you round.
I think it's about time he realised
Tom's left that company.
Marvellous, isn't it? I was there
for eight years. He never even knew my name.
I'was "Mr Um..." of the fourth floor.
I had to leave to become indispensable.
- What does he want to see me for, anyway?
- Just one of those social things, you know.
Old Sir doesn't catch a cold
without an ulterior motive!
I think he's got a nerve,
telling you who to have round for dinner.
He'll be popping little place cards
through the post, next!
He'll turn up in the morning
telling you what colour pants to wear.
- Yes, it is a bit of a liberty, isn't it?
- Mm, I say it is.
After all, my private life is my private life! Right?
- Right
- Right
- He can go and hang himself.
- Good for you.
Only do come, won't you? Because if you don't,
he'll investigate my expense account.
- (Chuckles) Lapdog!
- Flunkey!
You wouldn't like to see old Jerry
reduced to four-course lunches, would you?
I don't see the point, anyway.
We all know what'll happen.
Sir will say to Tom, "Come back to work for me,"
Tom will say no, end of evening.
It's up to you. I've done my grovelling
by getting you round there.
- Well, why not! It'll be a giggle.
- Thanks, mate.
Only, as long as we're doing you a favour,
we'll have a decent burger this time,
- not that Algerian rubbish you gave us last time.
- Tell Margo, never mind the petite fours,
- we like the petite fives.
- One more thing you'd like to know:
the Surinam toad has got a pointed head.
Yes, Zermatt, at the beginning of the year.
My son Martin and his young companion...
"Mistress", I suppose you'd call her.
...companion had skied this slope
any number of times before.
They were perfectly familiar with it,
but the point was that some drunken idiot -
a German, one presumes -
moved one of the markers.
What a stupid thing to do.
Quite! So there's poor Martin...
There's poor Martin, you see,
coming down full schuss,
heads for the marker, and crash!
He goes right over the top
and lands flat on the roof of an hotel.
(Laughs) How funny!
I was explaining how my son broke his leg.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
I... I thought you were telling a joke.
Would you help me with the coffee,
please, Jerry?
- Do you do much skiing, Tim?
- Er, Tom.
No, I did quite a bit of water-skiing, actually.
Got fairly proficient at it.
- He's given it up now, though.
- Injury?
No, he mended his shoes with his wet suit.
I hardly think that winter sports and "make do
and mend" are the same subject, Barbara.
I find Tom and Barbara's life
absolutely fascinating.
Oh, so do. I was just saying it's not
the same subject. More brandy, please, Jerry.
SIR: Thank you.
- You're very quiet this evening, Jerry.
- I'm preoccupied with the company's exhibition.
- Worried?
- No, no. Excited.
- That's the spirit.
- Now, don't you start talking shop.
- Tell me about these pigs of yours, dear.
- Oh, Pinky and Perky? Oh, they're fine.
- Growing lasses now, of course.
- Yeah, how time flies!
Only seems like yesterday
they were running about in pigtails.
Now, before you know it, they'll be grown up,
having piglets of their own.
I have a horrible feeling that this conversation
is nose-diving into the carnal.
And why not, Margo? Pigs are entitled to
their bit of fun, too, you know.
- Right. Birds do it, bees do it...
- Even educated fleas do it!
BOTH: & Let's do it, let's fall in love
(Clears throat)
When exactly is the exhibition, Andrew?
No, no. Felicity is quite right.
No, we don't want to talk shop.
Well, Tom, here's to you
and to your good lady erm...
- Fatima.
- Yes.
Yes, as I said when you left the company,
I said, "A lot of people think
that this self-sufficiency is just a dream,
but here's a man with the guts
and the determination to make it work!"
Actually, you didn't use those words.
You said I was "a mindless idiot
who'd come crawling back in three weeks".
I beg your pardon, it was Jerry who said that.
What? Oh, yes, yes. Be fair. I said that, Tom.
Still, credit where credit's due.
We thought this was all a big setup.
- Setup?
- Yeah. Get us round here, chat us up
and then get the old bit
about me coming back to work.
Oh, now, Tom, come along.
You're doing me an injustice, you know.
- No, I just thought it would be nice to erm...
- Have a chat?
Chew the cud with an old colleague.
No, I wasn't trying to get you back
to the company at all.
But you said you were going to offer him
some freelance work.
- Oh, Felicity!
- But it's... it's true.
No, I didn't say "offer". I just said the thought
had crossed my mind. That was all.
That's that out of the way. Anybody like some
facts from my Boys' Book Of Knowledge?
Since the subject's been brought up,
what about it?
- No, thank you.
- You see, there's this exhibition.
Now, you see, when people come
to this exhibition,
I want them to realise
that we are, essentially, a family company.
I want them to get a picture of me
smiling benignly at them
through a... laurel wreath, or something like that.
I want them to feel, "Here's a man we can trust!”
That's all I want, just a sort of ..
- Con?
- Crest.
Motif. Now, just a few hours
of your spare time at home.
- Now, you wouldn't find me ungenerous.
- No, thanks.
Considering your financial indisposition, Tom,
you might have consulted poor Barbara
before making such an arbitrary decision.
No need. He knows that "poor Barbara" would
have punched him in the nose if he'd said yes.
- Aren't we really talking about money?
- No, you're talking about money.
Fatima and I are talking
about what we believe in.
We're doing this for ourselves! I can't work
for anybody else, not even part time!
- Bravo!
- Very well. So be it.
Well, I'll leave the offer open till the weekend.
Andy, you suffer from professional deafness.
The answer is no!
- And that's your final word?
- Absolutely!
Very well. You've got my home phone number.
Yes, I have got your home phone number,
but I won't be ringing you!
All right, all right! Subject closed.
Say no more.
Thursday is the best night to catch me in.
I was totally bald when I was born.
Sibelius was totally bald when he died.
Oh, that's all right, then.
Shall I throw the cat on the fire?
No, not just now. I've just got comfortable.
(Chuckles)
Ah, it's good, this, isn't it, sitting here,
pushing the mind to its limits?
I knew I felt guilty about something.
Do you realise, we're just sitting here
not actually doing anything?
Nothing to do. Finished the chores.
What happened to our 86-hour week?
Well, we reached a sort of plateau, really.
The animals are established,
the old veg are quietly growing away,
the generator throbbing in the cellar...
We deserve an 80-hour week.
Mind you, once we get to pick the stuff
and have to prepare it for storing,
- we'll have to step on the gas a bit.
- Mm. Back to the 86-hour week.
- 120, at least.
- (Chuckles)
Doesn't seem possible, really.
It just happened in such a short time.
- Nope, riches to rags in six months.
- (Chuckles)
- And freedom.
- True, true.
Anything you miss about the old days,
before we stopped the world and jumped off?
The parties, perhaps... The Ferraris and
the Jensens cheek by jowl on the drive...
Liz flying in from Acapulco...
Frank doing it His Way on the piano...
Paul Getty playing the spoons...
Simple times, but they were good fun.
(Chuckles)
What about you? Do you miss anything?
Yes - powdered egg.
- That was the War, you fool.
- Very popular with the boys in our squadron.
- You must have been about six.
- Well, I lied about my age.
- No, really, do you miss anything?
- No.
Well, I do have one fantasy.
- (Chuckles mischievously)
- Not that.
No, a bit of ..a bit of luxury.
You know, being pampered on
and ushered about and waited on.
Do you remember, every now and again
we used to go mad, have a big blow-out
- and stay at a hotel overnight?
- Ah, yes. The old pagan rites!
- Mm... Hey-ho...
- (Chuckles)
- No, Cinders, you shall go to the ball.
- Oh, yes? What on?
How much do they cost, those do's - 50 quid?
I'll take it out of the bank.
- You can't withdraw overdrafts.
- (Chuckles)
Don't exaggerate. We may not be in the black,
but at least we're in the grey.
What about all those things
that you have to pay for
and we can't do without, like water rates?
It's not on, Tom.
No, if anybody deserved a bit of pampering,
it's you.
You've been marvellous.
I could never have done this on my own.
You've never complained once.
You're something else, you are.
- Oh, Buttons!
- No, seriously.
- Oh, come on, Tom. It's not important.
- Sensible cow!
After all,
we can't afford to chuck money away, can we?
No. (Sighs)
Bed's free.
Mm?
Bed's free.
- Barbara...
- Yes?
You will be gentle with me, won't you?
JERRY: Margo! Hello?
Margo?
- Jerry, where is my music?
- Yes, thank you. I had a nice day at the office.
Oh, I'm sorry. Good evening, Jerry.
Where is my music?
In there, I think.
- Who put it in there?
- You did.
I have rather more taste than to put Handel's
Messiah next to Playmate Of The Month.
That'd be a novel experience
for both of them, I should've thought.
I might be a bit late in, because Miss Mountshaft
wants the altos to stay behind tonight.
Been chewing gum in class again? (Chuckles)
That's the sort of remark I'd expect from
someone whose knowledge of choral singing
begins and ends
with The Black And White Minstrels.
- Now, erm, your dinner.
- That's all right.
I've got some Indian takeaway.
Then will you kindly eat it in the kitchen
with the extractor fan full on.
Last time, this upholstery reeked of vindaloo
for a week.
- Good night, Jerry.
- Good night.
Have a nice singsong.
(Front door closes)
(Hums)
(As Margo) Jerry!
- Margo out, is she?
- How did you know?
Well, you wouldn't be eating curry in here
if she was in.
Why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff, anyway?
(Whispers) I want to see you privately
about something.
Huh? Here.
- Mind if I go on eating?
- No, go ahead, go ahead.
I'll do the rice, shall 1?
There you are.
- Well?
- What?
Oh, yeah! Now, remember last week
when Andy kept on about that freelance job?
- Yeah.
- Well...
- (Whispers) I've decided to do it.
- You steaming great hypocrite!
Now, wait a minute!
I'm not becoming Mammon's plaything again.
It's just that I want the money
for a very special reason.
- (Whispers) Barbara.
- Oh, I see!
She's noterm...?
No, no, no, no, no! She just deserves a treat
and she'll have one, whether she likes it or not.
You sound like a belligerent Father Christmas!
I wanna do it... What's the word?
.Slyly.
It must come as a complete surprise.
She mustn't know what's hit her
till we're upstairs in the bridal suite
with the second bottle of champagne.
- Can I get you a plate?
- No, no, no, I'm fine.
- Well?
- There's no problem. You can use my study.
Do a bit now and again. Concoct some story
for Barbara. You're a good liar.
Yes, I am. Thanks, Jerry.
Hey, hey... hold on. What about Margo?
I shall eat curry where I choose!
- What?
- I'll squirt the aerosol around afterwards.
No, no, no! Nosing about
and blabbing to Barbara.
That's all right.
Keep your drawings locked in my desk.
- What keeps Margo out of the desk?
- I've had the lock changed.
That's what marriage should be: no secrets.
- Hark at who's talking!
- Ah, yes, but I am me.
- See you later, Jerry.
- Yeah.
Was my supper to your satisfaction?
Not bad, not bad. Next time,
get Madras instead of vindaloo. Hah!
Hello, Barbara. It's only Margo.
Oh, good God! What's that you've got on?
You look like the Angel of Death.
Yes, it's awful, isn't it?
The whole choir's wearing them
when we perform the Messiah.
Miss Mountshaft wants us all exactly the same,
so she only gave the dressmaker
one set of measurements.
- Hers, presumably!
- Yes.
Jerry calls it my "oratorio tent".
Well, I suppose you want me to take it in.
- At least, I hope you want me to take it in!
- Please.
Right, well, waft your way over there.
I'll be with you in a minute.
- Bills?
- These are big enough to be Williams!
Ah, well... l suppose
I could always go back on the game.
Let's have a look.
Are you very worried
about your financial position?
Let's put it this way: I can see the red
at the end of the tunnel!
Now, then, it wants to come in under the bust.
Yes. Not too much. Miss Mountshaft wants us all
to look as virginal as possible.
Shame. You've got nice boobs.
Barbara! Really?
Just how close to financial collapse are you?
Well, we'll be all right
if the crops come in before the money runs out.
- Always the brave face.
- I've starched my upper lip.
- But you are worried?
- Yes, I am a bit worried.
Now, then, how many feet
do you want this taken up?
It's no good, Barbara. I must tell you.
I know that money is coming to you.
Oh, yes? You've been reading the tea leaves?
No... No, I was dusting Jerry's study
when I happened to break into his desk.
How can you "happen to break into a desk"?
Well, I was dusting.. fairly vigorously
and the lock just flew open and there it was!
- The cup with the tea leaves in it?
- Indisputable proof
that Tom is doing the freelance work
that Andrew offered him.
- Are you sure?
- Tom's signature was on the drawings.
You don't look very pleased.
It's probably because I'm disgusted!
But why?
He told me he was round your house
putting shelves up.
- Oh, allittle white lie.
- A great, dirty, black one!
Barbara, there are times
when I don't understand you at all.
Don't you see what this means?
At last, Tom has realised how unfair it is to make
you struggle along like some medieval serf.
- What are you doing?
- I'm just clearing the area.
I don't want innocent bystanders injured.
- I don't understand.
- Let's put it this way.
I don't want you singing the Messiah
with Tom's blood splattered all over your dress.
(Tom whistling)
Hello, hello, hello! (Chuckles)
Ah, just oiled the generator.
She's running like a Rolls Royce.
Any... creaking limbs you want lubricating,
madam?
- Tom!
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
How are those shelves coming along
that you're putting up for Jerry?
- Shelves?
- Mm.
Oh, the shelves! Oh, great! Great!
Ah, no. Actually, no, no, no. See,
I'm having a bit of trouble with the angle irons,
because the wall's not dead plumb, you see.
But I pepped up the battens, so that's OK.
When I do the actual beading...
- Ow! That hurt.
- Good!
- What's the game?
- The one you're playing,
taking that job behind my back, you lying toad!
- Oh.
- Yes, "Oh".
- Look, there's a perfectly good reason...
- There is not!
It's a betrayal! What is the point
of trying to do it on our own
if you're going to go off and start wage-earning
every time things get a bit tight?
- This is the thin end of the wedge!
- But...
Shut up! First it'll be one job,
just to pay off these bills.
Then it'll be two! This isn't the self-sufficiency
we talked about. It's a spineless compromise.
You just chucked the whole thing
out of the window!
- Will you let me say something?
- Yes, goon.
Your perfectly good reason.
I'd like to know what it is.
There is no good reason in the world
for you taking that job!
How about me wanting to take you
on that pagan rite we talked about?
- What?
- Look, this is... the first and the last time.
It's one job for one reason: you.
Ow! What's that for?
That's for being bloody perfect!
(Chuckles)
No, Miss Mountshaft, it is important
where I stand for the performance.
I am going to stand in the front row.
I beg your pardon, Miss Mountshaft?
I would remind you that I am the only first alto
who can hit an A below middle C,
in addition to which I am probably
the only person in the whole choir
to have made anything
of those ghastly tents we're wearing.
No, I have not finished, Miss Mountshaft.
Furthermore, let us remember
that it is I who supplied the gingerbread men
for rehearsal teas.
(Chuckles) "Blackmail" is an ugly word,
Miss Mountshaft.
Thank you very much.
I thought you'd see it my way.
See you Tuesday, then. Oh, and perhaps
we can take that opportunity
to discuss who's going to play the lead
in The Sound Of Music.
Goodbye, Miss Mountshaft.
I've fed all Tom's animals and
given the goat her evening milking.
Incidentally, the rubber gloves
were not appreciated.
Nevertheless, I'm glad you wore them.
We don't want udder rash in this house.
Ordinary people would ask
their neighbours round to baby-sit. Huh!
I do hope they have a lovely time.
Judging from the smirk on Tom's face
when they left, "lovely time" is hardly the word.
Could be the seduction of the year.
Second honeymoon, even.
Oh, yes, of course.
They're staying overnight at the hotel.
- Yes.
- Jerry, do you remember ours?
Our what?
- Our honeymoon!
- Oh, yes, of course.
- You know what I remember most?
- What's that, Jerry?
The hotel games room.
Every ping-pong ball was cracked.
But the room, our room... Do you remember?
Our lovely balcony with the view over the lake...
- Yes, it was rather picturesque.
- It was beautiful!
I mean, it's not the sort of thing one packs, is it,
aping-pong ball...
- No.
- What are we going to do with our evening?
What would you like to do, Jerry?
Erm... Let's see.
We could have Ian and Jilly over.
Oh, I'd rather not. I've never been
very comfortable with lan and Jilly
- since they started dabbling in tarot cards.
- Mmm... Howard and Sue?
- Socialists.
- Oh, yeah.
- Haven't seen Phil and Linda for ages.
- They're on their boat.
- Mark and Babette?
- They're on theirs.
No, Jerry, I wasn't really thinking about people.
Oh, you mean.. just us two?
- Yes.
- Oh, right! Restaurants...
Passacaglia... No. That's where my sambuca
set light to the tablecloth.
- (Chuckles)
- Juanita's?
Well, I'm not really... very hungry, Jerry.
- Silly, this, isn't it?
- What?
It's easy for Tom and Barbara.
They hardly ever go out.
We know a hundred places and 500 people
and can't think of a thing to do.
Well, not everything we enjoy
is in the address book, Jerry.
No! I see. (Chuckles)
What a good idea.
(Hum of conversation)
You know, I think gluttony
is my second-favourite sin.
Oh, definitely.
Mind you, all we've had is not the
straight-out-of-the-ground stuff we're used to.
No, that was jam-packed full of additives.
- Oh... Fatty acids...
- Cholesterol...
All terribly bad for you.
- Great, wasn't it?
- Fantastic!
- You look gorgeous.
- Dol?
It's funny, dressing up as a woman again.
- I haven't had my posh frock on for ages.
- What does it feel like?
Sensuous, I would say.
Yes, definitely sensuous.
Good. Keep feeling that way
till we get upstairs to the bridal suite.
Bridal suite, sir? May I offer my congratulations.
(Cockney accent)
Oh, cor, Mr Thomas, he's tumbled us!
(Posh accent) I've told you before, don't call me
"Mr Thomas". The name is John. Sorry.
I understand, sir.
- Supreme trifle for madame.
- Oh, ta!
(Whispers) Only, see, we're not really married.
Don't talk so much, my dear.
Don't want to send the stole back to the furriers.
Oh, no, sir! Er, John. Er, Thomas.
- Green figs for you, sir.
- Er, thank you.
Thomas, should I bob him a couple of bob
to keep quiet?
Discretion is our watchword, madam.
Do you want to spend the rest of your life
in that typing pool?
Oh, no, sir! Look, tell you what. I'll do anything
you tell me to when we get upstairs.
- You're rude, you are!
- Well, if a bloke's going to spend £50 on me...
Worth it, though, wasn't it? Was it worth it!
Talk about recharging your batteries. I'll whizz
around that garden like an electric eel tomorrow!
- £50?
- Well, that includes the bridal suite, of course.
- You used to get twice that on a design job.
- Oh, I'm dearer now. I got £200 for this one.
What happened to the other £1507
Ah, well, erm... l wanted that for something.
Oh, yes. I know what, too.
When we get home, there are going to be
those bills on the doormat
with "Paid" miraculously stamped all over them.
Tom, you lied to me! Doing it for me
was just a rotten excuse.
Aaargh!
(Chuckles awkwardly)
I wanted the extra money for this,
just to say you're the best wife a man ever had.
Oh, blimey...
Canters...
Oh, Tom...
- I don't deserve you.
- Yes, you do.
has got a pointed head?
What brought that up?
Don't know...
Makes you think of things like that, cobbling.
Oh.
Has it really... got a pointed head?
- What?
- This toad.
Yeah. I read that
in my Boys' Book Of Knowledge.
- When?
- When I was a boy.
Ask a silly question...
Look at that - another couple of quid saved! By
the way, where did you get the rubber for these?
Oh, er... some old thing I cut up.
That's my wet suit!
- Ah, no, I wanted that!
- What for?
- For water-skiing. What do you think?
- You only went once, six years ago.
- Was it?
- Yes. It frightened you so much, you gave it up.
I was not frightened.
The conditions were against me, that's all.
- Those waves were pretty high, you know!
- Waves? On a reservoir?
- I could still use it on my holidays.
- You said we can't afford a holiday
for the next ten years.
It was the maniac driving the boat
that was the trouble.
Called himself an instructor?
Stop, start, jerking me off my feet...
Didn't give me the right size skis, too.
I know that for a fact.
- Hello.
TOM & BARBARA: Hi, Jerry!
Moth?
No, no. Just an old wet suit I didn't want
any more, so I thought I'd put it to good use.
- You are becoming a jack of all trades!
- Have to be, mate.
Mind you, these craftsmen,
they make a mystique about their trades.
When you come down to it,
anyone can do it.
All you need is a little application
and a bit of common sense. Here we go.
Oh, God! Nails.
- (Chuckles)
- Oh! Sadist! What do you want, anyway?
Just because you're in pain,
no need to forget your manners.
What do you want, Leadbetter?
Actually, I came to invite you two charmers
around to dinner tomorrow.
- It's kind of you, but we can't keep doing that.
- Doing what?
- We're not in a position to reciprocate, are we?
- Reciprocate?
Look, it's just a couple of mates
asking a couple of mates round to dinner!
- No, really. Thanks, all the same.
- But... you've got to come.
Leadbetter, you speak with forked tongue.
You've got an ulterior motive.
Don't make such a case out of it.
It's just a casual invitation.
That's all - except for the ulterior motive.
- What?
- Well, actually, it's Sir.
He's ordered me to ask you round.
I think it's about time he realised
Tom's left that company.
Marvellous, isn't it? I was there
for eight years. He never even knew my name.
I'was "Mr Um..." of the fourth floor.
I had to leave to become indispensable.
- What does he want to see me for, anyway?
- Just one of those social things, you know.
Old Sir doesn't catch a cold
without an ulterior motive!
I think he's got a nerve,
telling you who to have round for dinner.
He'll be popping little place cards
through the post, next!
He'll turn up in the morning
telling you what colour pants to wear.
- Yes, it is a bit of a liberty, isn't it?
- Mm, I say it is.
After all, my private life is my private life! Right?
- Right
- Right
- He can go and hang himself.
- Good for you.
Only do come, won't you? Because if you don't,
he'll investigate my expense account.
- (Chuckles) Lapdog!
- Flunkey!
You wouldn't like to see old Jerry
reduced to four-course lunches, would you?
I don't see the point, anyway.
We all know what'll happen.
Sir will say to Tom, "Come back to work for me,"
Tom will say no, end of evening.
It's up to you. I've done my grovelling
by getting you round there.
- Well, why not! It'll be a giggle.
- Thanks, mate.
Only, as long as we're doing you a favour,
we'll have a decent burger this time,
- not that Algerian rubbish you gave us last time.
- Tell Margo, never mind the petite fours,
- we like the petite fives.
- One more thing you'd like to know:
the Surinam toad has got a pointed head.
Yes, Zermatt, at the beginning of the year.
My son Martin and his young companion...
"Mistress", I suppose you'd call her.
...companion had skied this slope
any number of times before.
They were perfectly familiar with it,
but the point was that some drunken idiot -
a German, one presumes -
moved one of the markers.
What a stupid thing to do.
Quite! So there's poor Martin...
There's poor Martin, you see,
coming down full schuss,
heads for the marker, and crash!
He goes right over the top
and lands flat on the roof of an hotel.
(Laughs) How funny!
I was explaining how my son broke his leg.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
I... I thought you were telling a joke.
Would you help me with the coffee,
please, Jerry?
- Do you do much skiing, Tim?
- Er, Tom.
No, I did quite a bit of water-skiing, actually.
Got fairly proficient at it.
- He's given it up now, though.
- Injury?
No, he mended his shoes with his wet suit.
I hardly think that winter sports and "make do
and mend" are the same subject, Barbara.
I find Tom and Barbara's life
absolutely fascinating.
Oh, so do. I was just saying it's not
the same subject. More brandy, please, Jerry.
SIR: Thank you.
- You're very quiet this evening, Jerry.
- I'm preoccupied with the company's exhibition.
- Worried?
- No, no. Excited.
- That's the spirit.
- Now, don't you start talking shop.
- Tell me about these pigs of yours, dear.
- Oh, Pinky and Perky? Oh, they're fine.
- Growing lasses now, of course.
- Yeah, how time flies!
Only seems like yesterday
they were running about in pigtails.
Now, before you know it, they'll be grown up,
having piglets of their own.
I have a horrible feeling that this conversation
is nose-diving into the carnal.
And why not, Margo? Pigs are entitled to
their bit of fun, too, you know.
- Right. Birds do it, bees do it...
- Even educated fleas do it!
BOTH: & Let's do it, let's fall in love
(Clears throat)
When exactly is the exhibition, Andrew?
No, no. Felicity is quite right.
No, we don't want to talk shop.
Well, Tom, here's to you
and to your good lady erm...
- Fatima.
- Yes.
Yes, as I said when you left the company,
I said, "A lot of people think
that this self-sufficiency is just a dream,
but here's a man with the guts
and the determination to make it work!"
Actually, you didn't use those words.
You said I was "a mindless idiot
who'd come crawling back in three weeks".
I beg your pardon, it was Jerry who said that.
What? Oh, yes, yes. Be fair. I said that, Tom.
Still, credit where credit's due.
We thought this was all a big setup.
- Setup?
- Yeah. Get us round here, chat us up
and then get the old bit
about me coming back to work.
Oh, now, Tom, come along.
You're doing me an injustice, you know.
- No, I just thought it would be nice to erm...
- Have a chat?
Chew the cud with an old colleague.
No, I wasn't trying to get you back
to the company at all.
But you said you were going to offer him
some freelance work.
- Oh, Felicity!
- But it's... it's true.
No, I didn't say "offer". I just said the thought
had crossed my mind. That was all.
That's that out of the way. Anybody like some
facts from my Boys' Book Of Knowledge?
Since the subject's been brought up,
what about it?
- No, thank you.
- You see, there's this exhibition.
Now, you see, when people come
to this exhibition,
I want them to realise
that we are, essentially, a family company.
I want them to get a picture of me
smiling benignly at them
through a... laurel wreath, or something like that.
I want them to feel, "Here's a man we can trust!”
That's all I want, just a sort of ..
- Con?
- Crest.
Motif. Now, just a few hours
of your spare time at home.
- Now, you wouldn't find me ungenerous.
- No, thanks.
Considering your financial indisposition, Tom,
you might have consulted poor Barbara
before making such an arbitrary decision.
No need. He knows that "poor Barbara" would
have punched him in the nose if he'd said yes.
- Aren't we really talking about money?
- No, you're talking about money.
Fatima and I are talking
about what we believe in.
We're doing this for ourselves! I can't work
for anybody else, not even part time!
- Bravo!
- Very well. So be it.
Well, I'll leave the offer open till the weekend.
Andy, you suffer from professional deafness.
The answer is no!
- And that's your final word?
- Absolutely!
Very well. You've got my home phone number.
Yes, I have got your home phone number,
but I won't be ringing you!
All right, all right! Subject closed.
Say no more.
Thursday is the best night to catch me in.
I was totally bald when I was born.
Sibelius was totally bald when he died.
Oh, that's all right, then.
Shall I throw the cat on the fire?
No, not just now. I've just got comfortable.
(Chuckles)
Ah, it's good, this, isn't it, sitting here,
pushing the mind to its limits?
I knew I felt guilty about something.
Do you realise, we're just sitting here
not actually doing anything?
Nothing to do. Finished the chores.
What happened to our 86-hour week?
Well, we reached a sort of plateau, really.
The animals are established,
the old veg are quietly growing away,
the generator throbbing in the cellar...
We deserve an 80-hour week.
Mind you, once we get to pick the stuff
and have to prepare it for storing,
- we'll have to step on the gas a bit.
- Mm. Back to the 86-hour week.
- 120, at least.
- (Chuckles)
Doesn't seem possible, really.
It just happened in such a short time.
- Nope, riches to rags in six months.
- (Chuckles)
- And freedom.
- True, true.
Anything you miss about the old days,
before we stopped the world and jumped off?
The parties, perhaps... The Ferraris and
the Jensens cheek by jowl on the drive...
Liz flying in from Acapulco...
Frank doing it His Way on the piano...
Paul Getty playing the spoons...
Simple times, but they were good fun.
(Chuckles)
What about you? Do you miss anything?
Yes - powdered egg.
- That was the War, you fool.
- Very popular with the boys in our squadron.
- You must have been about six.
- Well, I lied about my age.
- No, really, do you miss anything?
- No.
Well, I do have one fantasy.
- (Chuckles mischievously)
- Not that.
No, a bit of ..a bit of luxury.
You know, being pampered on
and ushered about and waited on.
Do you remember, every now and again
we used to go mad, have a big blow-out
- and stay at a hotel overnight?
- Ah, yes. The old pagan rites!
- Mm... Hey-ho...
- (Chuckles)
- No, Cinders, you shall go to the ball.
- Oh, yes? What on?
How much do they cost, those do's - 50 quid?
I'll take it out of the bank.
- You can't withdraw overdrafts.
- (Chuckles)
Don't exaggerate. We may not be in the black,
but at least we're in the grey.
What about all those things
that you have to pay for
and we can't do without, like water rates?
It's not on, Tom.
No, if anybody deserved a bit of pampering,
it's you.
You've been marvellous.
I could never have done this on my own.
You've never complained once.
You're something else, you are.
- Oh, Buttons!
- No, seriously.
- Oh, come on, Tom. It's not important.
- Sensible cow!
After all,
we can't afford to chuck money away, can we?
No. (Sighs)
Bed's free.
Mm?
Bed's free.
- Barbara...
- Yes?
You will be gentle with me, won't you?
JERRY: Margo! Hello?
Margo?
- Jerry, where is my music?
- Yes, thank you. I had a nice day at the office.
Oh, I'm sorry. Good evening, Jerry.
Where is my music?
In there, I think.
- Who put it in there?
- You did.
I have rather more taste than to put Handel's
Messiah next to Playmate Of The Month.
That'd be a novel experience
for both of them, I should've thought.
I might be a bit late in, because Miss Mountshaft
wants the altos to stay behind tonight.
Been chewing gum in class again? (Chuckles)
That's the sort of remark I'd expect from
someone whose knowledge of choral singing
begins and ends
with The Black And White Minstrels.
- Now, erm, your dinner.
- That's all right.
I've got some Indian takeaway.
Then will you kindly eat it in the kitchen
with the extractor fan full on.
Last time, this upholstery reeked of vindaloo
for a week.
- Good night, Jerry.
- Good night.
Have a nice singsong.
(Front door closes)
(Hums)
(As Margo) Jerry!
- Margo out, is she?
- How did you know?
Well, you wouldn't be eating curry in here
if she was in.
Why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff, anyway?
(Whispers) I want to see you privately
about something.
Huh? Here.
- Mind if I go on eating?
- No, go ahead, go ahead.
I'll do the rice, shall 1?
There you are.
- Well?
- What?
Oh, yeah! Now, remember last week
when Andy kept on about that freelance job?
- Yeah.
- Well...
- (Whispers) I've decided to do it.
- You steaming great hypocrite!
Now, wait a minute!
I'm not becoming Mammon's plaything again.
It's just that I want the money
for a very special reason.
- (Whispers) Barbara.
- Oh, I see!
She's noterm...?
No, no, no, no, no! She just deserves a treat
and she'll have one, whether she likes it or not.
You sound like a belligerent Father Christmas!
I wanna do it... What's the word?
.Slyly.
It must come as a complete surprise.
She mustn't know what's hit her
till we're upstairs in the bridal suite
with the second bottle of champagne.
- Can I get you a plate?
- No, no, no, I'm fine.
- Well?
- There's no problem. You can use my study.
Do a bit now and again. Concoct some story
for Barbara. You're a good liar.
Yes, I am. Thanks, Jerry.
Hey, hey... hold on. What about Margo?
I shall eat curry where I choose!
- What?
- I'll squirt the aerosol around afterwards.
No, no, no! Nosing about
and blabbing to Barbara.
That's all right.
Keep your drawings locked in my desk.
- What keeps Margo out of the desk?
- I've had the lock changed.
That's what marriage should be: no secrets.
- Hark at who's talking!
- Ah, yes, but I am me.
- See you later, Jerry.
- Yeah.
Was my supper to your satisfaction?
Not bad, not bad. Next time,
get Madras instead of vindaloo. Hah!
Hello, Barbara. It's only Margo.
Oh, good God! What's that you've got on?
You look like the Angel of Death.
Yes, it's awful, isn't it?
The whole choir's wearing them
when we perform the Messiah.
Miss Mountshaft wants us all exactly the same,
so she only gave the dressmaker
one set of measurements.
- Hers, presumably!
- Yes.
Jerry calls it my "oratorio tent".
Well, I suppose you want me to take it in.
- At least, I hope you want me to take it in!
- Please.
Right, well, waft your way over there.
I'll be with you in a minute.
- Bills?
- These are big enough to be Williams!
Ah, well... l suppose
I could always go back on the game.
Let's have a look.
Are you very worried
about your financial position?
Let's put it this way: I can see the red
at the end of the tunnel!
Now, then, it wants to come in under the bust.
Yes. Not too much. Miss Mountshaft wants us all
to look as virginal as possible.
Shame. You've got nice boobs.
Barbara! Really?
Just how close to financial collapse are you?
Well, we'll be all right
if the crops come in before the money runs out.
- Always the brave face.
- I've starched my upper lip.
- But you are worried?
- Yes, I am a bit worried.
Now, then, how many feet
do you want this taken up?
It's no good, Barbara. I must tell you.
I know that money is coming to you.
Oh, yes? You've been reading the tea leaves?
No... No, I was dusting Jerry's study
when I happened to break into his desk.
How can you "happen to break into a desk"?
Well, I was dusting.. fairly vigorously
and the lock just flew open and there it was!
- The cup with the tea leaves in it?
- Indisputable proof
that Tom is doing the freelance work
that Andrew offered him.
- Are you sure?
- Tom's signature was on the drawings.
You don't look very pleased.
It's probably because I'm disgusted!
But why?
He told me he was round your house
putting shelves up.
- Oh, allittle white lie.
- A great, dirty, black one!
Barbara, there are times
when I don't understand you at all.
Don't you see what this means?
At last, Tom has realised how unfair it is to make
you struggle along like some medieval serf.
- What are you doing?
- I'm just clearing the area.
I don't want innocent bystanders injured.
- I don't understand.
- Let's put it this way.
I don't want you singing the Messiah
with Tom's blood splattered all over your dress.
(Tom whistling)
Hello, hello, hello! (Chuckles)
Ah, just oiled the generator.
She's running like a Rolls Royce.
Any... creaking limbs you want lubricating,
madam?
- Tom!
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
How are those shelves coming along
that you're putting up for Jerry?
- Shelves?
- Mm.
Oh, the shelves! Oh, great! Great!
Ah, no. Actually, no, no, no. See,
I'm having a bit of trouble with the angle irons,
because the wall's not dead plumb, you see.
But I pepped up the battens, so that's OK.
When I do the actual beading...
- Ow! That hurt.
- Good!
- What's the game?
- The one you're playing,
taking that job behind my back, you lying toad!
- Oh.
- Yes, "Oh".
- Look, there's a perfectly good reason...
- There is not!
It's a betrayal! What is the point
of trying to do it on our own
if you're going to go off and start wage-earning
every time things get a bit tight?
- This is the thin end of the wedge!
- But...
Shut up! First it'll be one job,
just to pay off these bills.
Then it'll be two! This isn't the self-sufficiency
we talked about. It's a spineless compromise.
You just chucked the whole thing
out of the window!
- Will you let me say something?
- Yes, goon.
Your perfectly good reason.
I'd like to know what it is.
There is no good reason in the world
for you taking that job!
How about me wanting to take you
on that pagan rite we talked about?
- What?
- Look, this is... the first and the last time.
It's one job for one reason: you.
Ow! What's that for?
That's for being bloody perfect!
(Chuckles)
No, Miss Mountshaft, it is important
where I stand for the performance.
I am going to stand in the front row.
I beg your pardon, Miss Mountshaft?
I would remind you that I am the only first alto
who can hit an A below middle C,
in addition to which I am probably
the only person in the whole choir
to have made anything
of those ghastly tents we're wearing.
No, I have not finished, Miss Mountshaft.
Furthermore, let us remember
that it is I who supplied the gingerbread men
for rehearsal teas.
(Chuckles) "Blackmail" is an ugly word,
Miss Mountshaft.
Thank you very much.
I thought you'd see it my way.
See you Tuesday, then. Oh, and perhaps
we can take that opportunity
to discuss who's going to play the lead
in The Sound Of Music.
Goodbye, Miss Mountshaft.
I've fed all Tom's animals and
given the goat her evening milking.
Incidentally, the rubber gloves
were not appreciated.
Nevertheless, I'm glad you wore them.
We don't want udder rash in this house.
Ordinary people would ask
their neighbours round to baby-sit. Huh!
I do hope they have a lovely time.
Judging from the smirk on Tom's face
when they left, "lovely time" is hardly the word.
Could be the seduction of the year.
Second honeymoon, even.
Oh, yes, of course.
They're staying overnight at the hotel.
- Yes.
- Jerry, do you remember ours?
Our what?
- Our honeymoon!
- Oh, yes, of course.
- You know what I remember most?
- What's that, Jerry?
The hotel games room.
Every ping-pong ball was cracked.
But the room, our room... Do you remember?
Our lovely balcony with the view over the lake...
- Yes, it was rather picturesque.
- It was beautiful!
I mean, it's not the sort of thing one packs, is it,
aping-pong ball...
- No.
- What are we going to do with our evening?
What would you like to do, Jerry?
Erm... Let's see.
We could have Ian and Jilly over.
Oh, I'd rather not. I've never been
very comfortable with lan and Jilly
- since they started dabbling in tarot cards.
- Mmm... Howard and Sue?
- Socialists.
- Oh, yeah.
- Haven't seen Phil and Linda for ages.
- They're on their boat.
- Mark and Babette?
- They're on theirs.
No, Jerry, I wasn't really thinking about people.
Oh, you mean.. just us two?
- Yes.
- Oh, right! Restaurants...
Passacaglia... No. That's where my sambuca
set light to the tablecloth.
- (Chuckles)
- Juanita's?
Well, I'm not really... very hungry, Jerry.
- Silly, this, isn't it?
- What?
It's easy for Tom and Barbara.
They hardly ever go out.
We know a hundred places and 500 people
and can't think of a thing to do.
Well, not everything we enjoy
is in the address book, Jerry.
No! I see. (Chuckles)
What a good idea.
(Hum of conversation)
You know, I think gluttony
is my second-favourite sin.
Oh, definitely.
Mind you, all we've had is not the
straight-out-of-the-ground stuff we're used to.
No, that was jam-packed full of additives.
- Oh... Fatty acids...
- Cholesterol...
All terribly bad for you.
- Great, wasn't it?
- Fantastic!
- You look gorgeous.
- Dol?
It's funny, dressing up as a woman again.
- I haven't had my posh frock on for ages.
- What does it feel like?
Sensuous, I would say.
Yes, definitely sensuous.
Good. Keep feeling that way
till we get upstairs to the bridal suite.
Bridal suite, sir? May I offer my congratulations.
(Cockney accent)
Oh, cor, Mr Thomas, he's tumbled us!
(Posh accent) I've told you before, don't call me
"Mr Thomas". The name is John. Sorry.
I understand, sir.
- Supreme trifle for madame.
- Oh, ta!
(Whispers) Only, see, we're not really married.
Don't talk so much, my dear.
Don't want to send the stole back to the furriers.
Oh, no, sir! Er, John. Er, Thomas.
- Green figs for you, sir.
- Er, thank you.
Thomas, should I bob him a couple of bob
to keep quiet?
Discretion is our watchword, madam.
Do you want to spend the rest of your life
in that typing pool?
Oh, no, sir! Look, tell you what. I'll do anything
you tell me to when we get upstairs.
- You're rude, you are!
- Well, if a bloke's going to spend £50 on me...
Worth it, though, wasn't it? Was it worth it!
Talk about recharging your batteries. I'll whizz
around that garden like an electric eel tomorrow!
- £50?
- Well, that includes the bridal suite, of course.
- You used to get twice that on a design job.
- Oh, I'm dearer now. I got £200 for this one.
What happened to the other £1507
Ah, well, erm... l wanted that for something.
Oh, yes. I know what, too.
When we get home, there are going to be
those bills on the doormat
with "Paid" miraculously stamped all over them.
Tom, you lied to me! Doing it for me
was just a rotten excuse.
Aaargh!
(Chuckles awkwardly)
I wanted the extra money for this,
just to say you're the best wife a man ever had.
Oh, blimey...
Canters...
Oh, Tom...
- I don't deserve you.
- Yes, you do.