In Sickness and in Health (1985–1992): Season 6, Episode 6 - Episode #6.6 - full transcript

(# CHAS & DAVE:
In Sickness And In Health)

# Now, my old darlin'
They've laid her down to rest

# And now I'm missing her
with all me heart

# But they don't give a monkey's
down the DHSS

# And they've gone and halved me pension
for a start

# So it won't be very long
before I'm by her side

# Cos I'll probably starve to death
That's what I'll do

- # For richer or poorer... #
- I'm bloody poorer, that's a fact.

#...That's cos in sickness and in health
I said "I do".. #

(# Bridal March)

#...In sickness and in health
I said "I do". #



Well, there we are, Mr Garnett.

There is your chequebook
and your Gold Card.

This is available everywhere
up to a very large amount,

- and the cash that you asked for.
-Ta.

Tell me, why have you opened
so many different accounts in other banks?

Precaution, innit? Don't want to put
all me eggs in one basket, do I?

This is a very respectable
high-street bank.

All of your money would be safe with us.

Yeah, well, you would say that,
wouldn't you? I mean,

look at that bank went up the spout
the other day, the BBCI, or something.

If I'd had my money with them crooks,
I'd be a pauper again today.

Oh, I can assure you
that most banks are not crooked.

Every crook claims to be honest
until he's caught, doesn't he? (CHUCKLES)

That BBCI, that looked as respectable
as Westminster Abbey



till the Fraud Squad
put the collar on 'em.

Bloody Maxwell! Treated like
a bloody Pope, he was, wasn't he?

No, mate, if you've got money,
spread it around a bit.

That way, if your bank turns out dodgy,
I don't lose all me money, do I?

Besides, no one person
knows where it all is.

That prevents your nosey Parkers
from knowing what I've got.

Now, Mr Garnett, you are going to
have to declare this money.

I told you -
the authorities will have to know.

Why? That was spare dosh, that was.

Nobody knew that existed
till I brought it in here.

Look, the authorities didn't want to
know about me when I had nothing.

Well, I don't want to know about them
now I've got a few bob.

Fair-weather friends,
that's what your authorities are, mate.

They don't give tuppence for us,
the people. Nick our money? Yeah!

Nothing for what we want, though,
is there? Your Labour lot's just the same.

It's supposed to be
the party of the people?

Eh? Fair shares for all?

Until they get into power.

And then you'll see them hobnobbing
with the same fat cats

your bloody Tories was hobnobbing with!

Going to the same parties
in the same big houses.

Flying all round the world
at our expense.

To drink with all their mates
in other governments.

You never see 'em down 'ere in our local
pub, hobnobbing with the likes of us,

except at election time,

when they seem to think a smile
and half a pint's enough to buy your vote.

Another thing.

If they did get our money, no-one
round here'd see the benefit of it, mate.

I mean, your National Health
would be no better off,

nor any other things
they say they want our money for.

But there would be several hundred
thousand pounds' worth of spare dosh

floating about in the Government,

and who knows which pocket
that'd finish up in!

Why does the Prime Minister lives next
door to the Chancellor of the Exchequer?

I don't know
but I'm sure you're going to tell me.

Because... Because when the Prime Minister
nips over the back fence

and in the back door
of the Chancellor's house,

it's not to borrow a cup of sugar,
you know! No!

He goes in and he says, "Well, Chancellor.
Good morning. And how are we doing?"

And the Chancellor says,
"Well, Prime Minister, we seem to have

"several hundred thousand pounds' worth
of spare dosh floating about.”

And the Prime Minister says what you or I
would have said in the same circumstances.

"Well, always do with a few Nelsons,
eh, Chancellor?

Nelsons?

Nelson Eddies. Readies.

Oh, yes, well, if you do need
any help with investments...

At my age, with all my money...

(CHUCKLES)

...what do I need with investments?
(CHUCKLES)

(CHUCKLING CONTINUES)

- Make way for the guv'nor.
- Oh, I'm sorry(!)

Never mind all that. Just make way.

The guv'nor's ready for a little wet,
aren't you, guv'nor?

I think we'll have
a drop of the old shampoo, eh?

Oh. I'll just hang these up for you.

My tongue's just hanging out
for a drop of that.

Yes, I can see it.
Covered in boot polish(!)

Allow me, guv'nor.

Ah! It's a knack, you see.

And I suppose you've acquired it,
all the champagne-drinking you've done(!)

It's a knack I acquired
serving the rich, Mrs Hollingbery.

You?!

When were you ever close enough
to the rich, even to serve 'em?

When I was a steward on the big liners,
serving the top table.

Steward on the big liners?

- Barman on the Irish ferry, more like!
- (POP)

Oh, I'm sure they liked all that
on the top tables(!) Look at that.

Oh, what would she know about champagne,
or the rich, or the way they serve it?

You're supposed to have the bang and
fizz. It's all part of the celebration.

Half of it's on the bar.
The rest of it's on the floor.

There's not much of it left in the bottle.

No wonder it's a rich man's drink,

if that's all you're left with
after you open it!

The rich, Mrs Hollingbery, when you've had
the experience of them what I've had,

aren't bothered about the spillage of a
drop of champagne on their marble floors.

They have gallons of it in their cellars.

- She's ignorant of the ways of the world.
- Here...

Are you gonna have marble floors?

- Perhaps in your new house, eh, guv'nor?
- New house? What new house?

Now, that's up to you, guv'nor.

You're the boss. Where you lead,
I'll follow. Cheers to the guv'nor...

and captain of the universe.

Um, I was thinking, Mr Garnett...

when we're married,

perhaps a nice little bungalow for two...

(CHAIR CREAKS)

...with a little bit of ground,
out Epping way.

A bungalow?!

The only attraction I can see
for Mr Garnett in a bungalow is,

he wouldn't have anybody upstairs to...

ALF: Gordon Bennett!

Watch your back there, guv'nor.
Watch your back.

You silly great pudding!

Put that bloody chair up!

There...

Marriage?!
Who said anything about marriage?

Well, I thought
that's what we'd been planning.

You might have been doing that,
but I ain't been planning no marriage!

Not since you left me
standing at the church, a laughing stock!

Oh, that's all in the past now.

There's a lot of things in the past,
and they can stay in the past.

I was poor and living on the pension
in the past.

But now I'm rich!

Money needn't change things.

Don't be daft! No point having money
if it don't change things, is there?

Well, it needn't come between us,
that's what I mean.

I wouldn't allow it
to alter my feelings for you.

You see, I was prepared to marry you
when you was poor.

But you wasn't, was you?
You wouldn't say "obey".

- You wouldn't say, "I obey", would you?
- I obey. There, I've said it now.

In the church! You wouldn't say it
in the church, would you?

Arrange the wedding,
book the church and I'll say it.

- What, I obey?
- I obey!

- But will you?
- Whatever you say.

Pour me a whisky.

Ohh.

I obey.

Fetch it 'ere.

(MICHAEL GUFFAWS)

Put it back on the bar.

Fetch it 'ere!

Sit.

- And you'll say it in public?
- Yes.

- In the church?
- Yes!

Well, I dunno.
It needs a lot of thinking about.

I mean, you say money don't matter,

but there's different market forces
at play now, ain't there?

When I first asked you to marry me,
I was poor

and you was all I could afford then,
but now...

I'm in the market for something
a bit better, something a /of younger.

Something with a good few miles
left in it.

More energy, that can run about
a bit faster, fetching and carrying,

and probably a bit better
at cooking and cleaning!

Something I could be sure would
see me out. Because that's important.

I don't want to spend time
training up a woman to my ways

and then have her peg out on me, have to
go through it all again with someone else.

It's nothing personal.

I mean, put yourself in my position.

If you had money and I was poor,
would you marry me?

Of course she wouldn't.

- Another whisky.
- Oh, get it yourself.

Testing, testing.

If you hope to hear
the banns read out, that is.

- (THUD)
- Ooh!

Where did you get all this money, anyway?

That's what a lot of nosey people
would like to know, my dear.

- I'm not being nosey.
- Aren't you?

I'm just curious, that's all.

It was curiosity killed the cat.

Might be something heavier
that kills you!

I might have been left it
by a loving relative.

Or I might have made some very shrewd
investments. Or, on the other hand,

- I might have just won it.
- There you are, you see.

Mr Garnett is clever enough
to have made investments.

The cleverest man around here,
as I've always said.

And lovable enough to have been
left it by adoring relatives.

And clever enough to have won it.
Hey, guv'nor, hey?

You didn't steal it, did you?

If you think this is stolen property,
perhaps you'd better not drink it.

Perhaps you'd better
forget about marriage,

if you think my wealth is stolen.

- Don't want you committing a mortal sin.
- No, no, that's all right, Mr Garnett.

I'll take your word for it.

I haven't said that I didn't steal it yet.

Never mind. Never mind.
Keep me in ignorance.

I can always go to confession.

What lives we'd lead without confession.

Up the Hammers! Up the Hammers!
Up the Hammers!

- Up the Hammers! Up the Hammers!
- Shut up!

And another thing, Mrs Hollingbery.

There'll be no need for you to go poking
about up my chimney when I'm out,

looking for my money box.

I've got somewhere more secure
to hide things from prying eyes now.

I've never looked up your chimney.

Yeah. That bad leg of yours,
it ain't rheumatism, you know.

That's from all the hours you spent
kneeling down,

begging forgiveness
for all the lies you tell.

Sinner's knee, that's what
you're suffering from, my dear!

I've been robbed!
You lousy, rotten Millwall supporters!

You thieving swines!

MICHAEL: Was your money in there?

No, my chequebooks, my credit cards.
You thieving swines!

- Does that mean you're broke again?
- No, no!

There's no money in there,
just credit cards.

Have them stopped.

I've got all these bank accounts
all over the place.

I've got a little book
with all me names of the banks

- and I don't know where I've put it.
- Up the Hammers, up the Hammers!

Shut up!

Yes, sir?

Um... (CLEARS THROAT)
...have I got an account here?

I don't know. Have you, sir?

I think so. I seem to remember
coming in here. Yeah, I'm sure this is it.

Trouble is, they all look the same.

- What is your name, sir?
- Ah, well, you've got me there.

I beg your pardon, sir.

I've got all these bank accounts
in different names, all me aliases,

and, um...

Let me run a few names past you.
Bobby Moore?

Denis Thatcher?

Er...Harold Wilson?

Neville Chamberlain?

Hold on, hold on, just a minute.

I ain't lost it!

It slipped down the lining of me coat!
It was there all the time!

- What bank is this?
- Westminster.

That's with a "W", innit? Hold on.

Here you are, look. Westminster...

Powell?

(KEYBOARD CLATTERS)

Ah, yes. Mr Powell.

- Er...Enoch, isn't it?
- Yeah, that's it.

Enoch Powell. Have I got an account here?

Yes, a very substantial one.

See, I've had me chequebook
and all me credit cards nicked.

No problem. I'll have them cancelled
and get new ones out.

Thank you. Cor. They're very nice to you
when you've got a few quid, ain't they?

(CHUCKLES)

Well, my real name...

I was only up the shops half an hour.

Half an hour?!

It took the furniture men
two bloody days to get the furniture in!

They get it out in half an hour!

You thieving bloody Millwall swines!
You bloody animals!

I'll have you put where you belong!

(TAPPING)

It's like living in a prison.

The food's better, though, eh?

I never realised
money could be such a problem.

I should move, guv'nor, if I were you,
to a more respectable district.

No! You go to where the rich live,
it's just the same, innit?

Same bars, chains, burglar alarms, steel
doors - it's the furniture of your rich.

If they won't lock up your criminals, then
the rich has got to lock theirs elves up.

Yeah. The trouble is, though,
if you live among them,

they can rob you without involving
themselves a lot of travelling expenses.

Never mind. It's got its compensations.

A few weeks ago, this was a meal
you could only dream of, eh, mate?

Oh, yeah.

A poor man can only dream of a meal
like this once a year, at Christmas,

and even then,
only after a year of saving.

There you are, you see.
For the rich, it's Christmas every day!

- (ALF GUFFAWS)
- Yeah, for the idle rich.

Eh?

It's all right having Christmas every day
if you haven't got to prepare it!

- Oh, blimey! Now what's wrong?
- What's wrong?!

All this!

What's wrong with all this?
You've never lived so well.

- No, and I never worked so hard either.
- You couldn't please 'em.

It would please me
if you was to sod off home to your wife

and let her have a turn cooking for you.

And it's all right for you
sitting there, eating.

But since we got rich,

I've done nothing else
but prepare and cook huge great meals

and wash up piles of dirty dishes.

I bought you a new dishwasher.

Yes, and you bought me a new oven, too,

and I had far less to do
when I had neither of 'em,

when all I had to do
was make a cheese sandwich...

- (ALF GROANS)
- ...cook the odd bit of mince.

When we were on the pension,
before you could afford all this -

legs of pork, turkeys, best end
and legs of lamb, whole bloody salmons,

huge great T-bone steaks -

least I had the time to sit down
and enjoy the little bit I cooked.

What are you going on about?
You're sitting down now!

Yeah, but what about your pudding?
Your spotted dick and custard?

- Well, see to that first, if you like!
- Oh, sod your pudding!

There's no pleasing 'em.

Oh, shut up, you!

Listen, I never thought I'd hear myself
say it, but you are a thick Mick.

If there is such a thing, you're it!

Will you shut up and eat your dinner,
for crying out loud!

I'll buy you a new dress,
a new hat, if you behave yourself.

You can see to the pudding later.

I doubt if I'll have room for any.

Oh, you're beginning
to look like a pudding, you are.

I think all this money is a test for you.

What are you talking about, a test?

I think the Lord has given you
all this money just so as he can watch you

and see what kind of man you are.

He knows what kind of man I am, my dear.
He gave me all this money as a reward.

No, I think he's testing you.

Yes, he knows you'll be on your way
soon now from this Earth

and he's got to decide...

he's got to decide
where he's gonna put you.

Purgatory...hell,
with Old Nick and his big fork...

No, no, no.

It'll be heaven for the guv'nor.
He loves him. He's given him his money.

It is harder for a rich man
to enter the kingdom of heaven

than it is for a camel
to pass through the eye of a needle.

Oh, blimey! Look,
the Lord gave me the money.

No, to tempt you!

It's that serpent with the apple again,

only this time,
it's you that's being tempted to eat it.

No. Look, rich people go to heaven.
They wouldn't go to church

if they didn't think they had a chance
of going to heaven.

Besides, it's your rich people put more
in the plate than the poor people do!

Look, the Queen's rich, ain't she?
You think she ain't gonna go to heaven?

Well, I was born in Dublin

and I know a lot of the Irish
got their doubts about that.

You think heaven's
gonna be full of tramps and beggars?

You think God wants them sort of people
up there in heaven?

Ne'er-do-wells,
sleeping in cardboard boxes!

He loves poor people.

Well, he's made more of them,
that's for sure.

Look, I was poor, and he loved me,

and he gave me the money as a reward.

No, to tempt you
with the sins of the flesh.

To see if you was strong
and could resist 'em,

or was weak and would perish.

I'm not a sinful man.

No, you couldn't afford to be,
but now you can. Gluttony!

That's a sin you couldn't afford before,
but look at you now you can!

What are you talking about?
I'm sharing it with you, ain't I?

It's gluttony.
Your eyes are bigger than your belly.

Get off!

You can't eat all that,
and there's pudding still to come.

Yesterday it was a side of beef,
a leg of pork, salmon, eels.

We've got dogs for miles around
sniffing round your dustbin...

And there's hungry people
starving in the world!

Take some of it up the church, then.

- What, take your leavings up the church?
- All right...

I'll give 'em some money. Find
some poor people, I'll give 'em a few bob.

There's poor people sitting here.

- You said I could have a new dress.
- Yes, you can.

- And a new hat?
- Yes!

And I'll need a new pair of shoes
to go with it.

Oh, I see.
You'll take my money, then, won't you?

Oh, yes, if it helps with your salvation,
Mr Garnett!

- Look, I have spoke to the Lord.
- When?

I prayed unto him, didn't I?
I asked him about the money

and asked him to give me a sign
what he wants me to do with it.

I said, "Do you want me to give
Mrs Hollingbery any of the money, Lord?"

And there was no sign from him.

"Do you want me to give Michael
any of it?"

No sign.

"Anybody else, Lord?"
And there was no sign.

You see, some people's life down 'ere
is intended as a punishment for them.

I mean, he wants them to suffer.

I don't want to spoil any of his divine
plans that he might have for people.

I mean, I know they say he's hard, God,
and he lets a lot of suffering go on,

but blimey, it's only the people who
are made to suffer who are complaining.

Nobody else seems to gives a stuff,
do they?

After all, it is his world. Look, I'll
say it to him again, in your presence.

Lord, do you want Mrs Hollingbery
to have a new dress?

Speak now...

(# WATCH PLAYS
I'M FOREVER BLOWING BUBBLES)

...or in a few minutes, Lord.

You won't get no messages like that.

You believe in the Lord, don't you?

He sees all, hears all.
He knows what I'm saying.

He don't send messages or write letters.

At least, not to the likes of you.

What do you expect him to do,
phone you(?)

How are we supposed to know
what he wants, then?

He gave us free will.

No, excuse me.

He wants us to do his will.

- Our way.
- What do you mean, our way?

He judges us.
When we come before him on Judgment Day,

he will say to you,
"Mr Garnett, you did it your way."

# Regre-e-e-ets

# I've had a few

# Too few to mention

# But Lord

# On this, your Judgment Day

# Give me-e-e-e-e redemption

# Cos I did it...

# My way! #

Oh, for Christ's sake, shut up!

Ignore him. He's a Proddy.

I'd be very wary if I was you,
Mr Garnett, in your position.

The Lord will give you just enough rope
to hang yourself with.

It's not funny.

He could be watching you sitting there,
enjoying your gluttony,

and then...and then take you,
just like that...

...in the middle of your pudding.

I don't want no pudding.

Or he might let you
get used to the money,

enjoy your gluttony, and then
allow you to outlive the money,

and make you spend long,
miserable years on the pension,

getting older and more feeble...

...and at the mercy of all those
you scorned when you was wealthy.

Oh, dear, yes. I'd be very wary,
if I was in your position.

I'm going up the pub!

- It's a power cut!
- MRS HOLLINGBERY: It's a sign!

Bloody hell!

The bars won't work!

Oh, Gordon Bennett!

I wanna go to the toilet.

Yes?

- Sir Reginald Woodley?
- I'm his secretary.

- I didn't think you was him! Is he in?
- Why?

- I wanna see him, of course!
- Have you an appointment?

(SIGHS)

My visiting card, dear.
Take that in to him, will you?

Tell him there's plenty more
where that come from.

I beg your pardon?

Go on.
I'm not National Health rubbish, you know.

(SIGHS)

My name. Mr Garnett.

Esquire.

My phone number.

My address.
One knock downstairs, if he ever calls.

Thank you.

- Mr...Garnett?
- Esquire.

54 Mandela Road?

Yeah, it used to be
Herbert Morrison Street.

Our militants
like to keep up with the times.

You have winning ways, Mr Garnett.

Um...

Excuse me. Is the "sir" for medicine?

Inherited, I'm afraid.

What are you afraid of? The Labour Party
will take it back if they get in?

(CHUCKLES)

What have you come to see me about?

Do I call you "sir" or "doctor"?

- Mister!
-Eh?

I'm a surgeon.

I don't want nothing took out or cut off.

- Tell me what is wrong.
- Well...

You see my problem.. Mister Woodley...

Call me "doctor”
if you feel uncomfortable.

I should call you "sir".
It's more the protocol.

- Be my guest.
- Are you inviting me home?

Mr Garnett...will you please
tell me your problem.

Well, my problem's money, you see.

Not a lack of it(?)

Oh, no, no. I've got a lot of money.
Bags of it. Loads of money!

So, what ls the problem?

Well, it's my age, you see.
I'm well over 70 now

and I wanna know how long I've got,

you see. I... I don't wanna leave
none of that behind me when I go,

but on the other hand, I don't
wanna run out of it before I do go,

so if you could give me a date...

It don't have to be the exact day,
you know.

A week here, week there will be all right.

I am a doctor, Mr Garnett,
not the Almighty.

- But you're a Harley Street doctor.
- Yes...

I can examine you.

I will examine you. But a couple of hours
after my examination,

you could be walking down the street
and... (CLICKS FINGERS)

- I wish people would stop doing that.
- What?

That! Mrs Hollingbery done that.
You could be having your pudding, and...

Or you could be getting out of bed
and...boom!

- Who is Mrs Hollingbery?
- It's the woman I live with.

Ah, women! They can put years on you.

Or...deny you the years you should have.

You're right, there. Perhaps I should...

Don't give it up.

No need for that.

Just take it easy.

Look, I don't do nothing like that!

Perhaps you should.

Look, it's my money I'm worried about,
not me bloody sex life!

To ease your worries,
or to alleviate them to some extent,

I'll book you into hospital.

-Eh?
- Don't worry. It's a very nice place.

More like an hotel than a hospital.

You'll have every comfort

and I shall arrange
to have you thoroughly examined...

with several of my colleagues
in attendance.

- There's no lack of...?
- Oh, no, no.

(DRUNKEN SINGING)

# Make yourself at home!

# Put your feet on the mantelshelf... #

Here, the Tories were right.

If you've got money,
this is the way to be ill.

(ALL LAUGH)

(# CHAS AND DAVE:
In Sickness And In Health)

# Now, my old darlin'
They've laid her down to rest

# And now I'm missing her
with all me heart

# But they don't give a monkey's
down the DHSS

# And they've gone and halved me pension
for a start

# So it won't be very long
before I'm by her side

# Cos I'll probably starve to death
That's what I'll do

# For richer or poorer
I'm bloody poorer, that's a fact

# That's cos in sickness and in health
I said "I do".. #

(# Bridal March)

#...In sickness and in health
I said "I do". #