My Family (2000–2011): Season 3, Episode 14 - Ding Dong Merrily... - full transcript

(Bouncing)

Ahhh!

- What the hell are you doing?!
- It's two o'clock in the morning!

Can I open my presents now?

- No!
- Aw, please, Dad, please! Just one! Please!

No!

Mum?

- Just one? Please!
- No!

Why not?

It's December the 19th!

It'll be different this year.



- No, it won't.
- Then we'll make it different.

- No, we won't.
- Why do you think Christmas'll be a disaster?

- Because it always is. It's traditional.
- No, it isn't.

Always looking to the negative.
You know I'm right. Look at last year.

- We all had a lovely time.
- Oh, yeah, you did.

I got beaten up by carol singers.

Ah, yes, lovely voices.

The year before that, there was the turkey.

OK, so it needed to stay in for a bit longer.

Susan, it was still alive.

I'm trying to forget the year of the puppy.

Ahh, the puppy.

Yes, that was sad, wasn't it?

- But those aren't reasons to hate Christmas.
- Try these.



You have to jolly up with people you wouldn't
normally bother to rescue from drowning.

You get drunken men in suits
vomiting in your flower beds.

You're effectively trapped in the house
with the central heating on full blast

and then someone throws a log on the fire
because they think it's festive!

The only thing you can hope for is to pass out
in some Drambuie-fuelled stupor

and wake up in January.

- Ben, don't exaggerate.
- All right, December the 27th.

This Christmas will be the best ever.
Janey will be here.

Why does she keep coming back?

She's like last night's curry.

Oh, which was delicious, by the way.

Any considerate child
would go up to university,

shack up with some slack-jawed loser
and we'd never hear from her again.

You should know by now, Ben,
she's not considerate.

Good night. Wake me up when it's over.

Crackers!

(Spits)

Hey, Dad...

- What?
- I don't want you to lend me L246.

- So why are you telling me, then?
- Reverse psychology.

Good. It's not working.

- Great! A cheque'll do.
- No.

Hang on, don't you wanna know
what I don't want it for?

Yes, I do not.

Great.

I'm not setting up the world's first
drive-through Santa's grotto.

- Good because that's a really bad idea.
- Glad you like it.

Santa sits in the passenger seat with you
asking what you want for Christmas

while your car gets a full shampoo, valet
and wax from a team of trained goblins.

Goblins? Shouldn't that be elves?

Goblins are harder working
and more trustworthy.

Yes, you know... pouf...

I'd really like to see this, Nick... Hang on.

How much did you say? L246, yeah?

- Yeah, just start-up money.
- Yeah.

As a founder investor,
your name goes on Santa's good-boy list.

Really?

Oh, that's great, Nick. Here.

- There you are.
- Thanks, Dad.

No, hang on, you've written,
"Do not pay Nick Harper any money at all."

It's reverse psychology.

Tipp-Ex, Tipp-Ex, Tipp-Ex!

Hey, Mikey, me boy.

Mikey, Mikey, Mikey.

What?

Like to be in at the ground floor of
the biggest business success of the decade?

Michael, don't give him the money.

It's all right, Dad, I'm 15
and sometimes you treat me like I'm... you.

What's your projected price-to-earnings ratio
if interest is tied to the variable base rate?

What is it with you people?

Just trying to make a little money
out of Christmas. Just like everybody else.

Christmas isn't about making money.

Scrooge!

- I'm home.
- Janey, darling! How was the train?

- Oh, I didn't take the train, I drove.
- You've got a car?

- Yeah.
- Who paid for that?

You really should read your bank statements.

- I...
- Ben, Ben, it's Christmas.

So, Janey, what have you been up to?

Think that answers that question.

Janey, what... I mean... Ben!

Wow, Janey...

...this is a bit of a surprise.

I thought you weren't coming till four.

How did that happen?

Do you want me to draw you a diagram?

Well, I mean... did you get him drunk
or something?

- Janey darling, in the kitchen now!
- Yes, Janey, in the kitchen! Come on! Now!

- Ben.
- Coming.

Yes, I'm pregnant. Yes, I'm going to keep it.
Yes, I'm going to look after it myself.

Jolly good. That's all sorted out.

On with the merriment, then.

Ben.

- Why didn't you tell us?
- Do I have to tell you everything?

You're studying Communications,
for God's sakes!

Telling your parents you're pregnant
must pop up on the syllabus!

I don't know, standards have dropped somewhat
since we were at college.

Look, dear, we're not angry.
We're here to help.

Mum, I don't need help.
This is my life and I'll take care of it by myself.

But you can't! I mean... good for you!

What do you mean, by yourself?
Doesn't this child have a father?

- Not as far as I'm concerned.
- Oh, I get it, a virgin birth! Very seasonal.

- But...
- It doesn't matter who the father is.

Well, not immediately,
but if you're going to go it alone, dear,

it's always good
to have somebody to go it alone with

and your father and I are here for you.

- Susan...
- Yes, dear?

Have we got any nibbles?

- For God's sakes, get involved.
- All right, I agree with Janey.

- You stay out of this.
- Yes.

Perhaps it was our fault. We haven't been
too liberal, have we, as parents?

- We? You.
- Me?

You were raising the kids. I wasn't there. I was
either working, driving or reading the paper.

It's nothing to do with me.

Exactly. The ultimate absentee father.

Oh, thank you. Glad I come top in something.

How pregnant would you say Janey is?

Completely.

For God's sakes, Ben, don't be flippant.
Our daughter is pregnant at 19!

Where I come from,
she'd be called a late starter.

- So it's all right, is it? You're fine about it?
- No, I'm not fine about it.

I'm still harbouring the delusion she's a virgin.

We've got to do something.

What? Like give her a lecture,
tell her what to do, tell her it's wrong?

(Chuckles) That always works, doesn't it?

- Don't be defeatist.
- I'm not defeatist, I'm defeated.

Look, Susan, this isn't about us.

Janey's made up her mind.
She wants to do it alone.

If she'd done it alone,
she wouldn't be in this situation.

Morning sickness!

Morning, sweetheart.

NICK!

- Hello, Dad.
- I knew it!

I don't know whether to weep or yodel.

Nick... where are you?

- Over here.
- Where?

What the hell is all this?

It's my new Christmas tree business.

Thank you for putting my mind at rest.

It's great, Dad, I bought 'em cheap.

Oh, yeah? A man in a pub, was it?

No.

A man in a forest.

I just need somewhere to store them
for a while.

- What?
- I've already thought of a name.

Tree Amigos. We've got branches everywhere!

Are you gonna shift this lot?
It's December the 21st now!

Ah, they're not for this year, Dad.

It seems to me, Nick,
you need a bit of a business plan.

So perhaps, if we could meet face to face,

I could thrash something out!

You'll have to catch me first!

Nicky, Nick, Nick!

Nick? Where are you?

Over here, Dad.

- How did you get over there?
- Woodcraft, Dad.

I bet you regret making me join
the Boy Scouts now!

I'll woodcraft you!

Right.

Crouchcraft. Ahhh! Gotcha!

Hello, Dad, I got separated from my platoon.

They're over there.

(Owl-like hooting)

Up and down, up and down!

I shall lead them up and down!

(Hooting)

(Ben) Nick...

Nick!

- Susan?
- Hello, dear.

- What are you doing?
- Just tidying up.

Who else is in here?

It's that bloody Shakespearean play.

- The one with the forest.
- As You Like It?

Well, I don't.

(Coaxingly) Nick.

Nicky?

I've got toffee!

Ooh!

- I want a word with you.
- All right, Dad.

What about?

- I thought you'd be pleased.
- Oh, you know me so well. I'm ecstatic.

Room full of trees. I'm over the moon,
I'm full of joy! Now, get rid of 'em!

- All of them?
- No, just... four.

Of course all of 'em!
I want 'em out of here now!

- Oh. So there isn't any toffee?
- You...

Nick!

Nick!

- I don't think I can see a way through this.
- You can always leave a trail of breadcrumbs.

Not the trees, Janey.

How can we help her
if she won't give us anything?

- She's like Alcatraz. Rocky, distant.
- Full of men.

I know you're trying to help, but shut up.

I know... we'll get to her through the boy.

They're always easier to break.

When do you release the flying monkeys?

Now, if direct methods don't work,

we'll have to use a more subtle
and clever approach.

Hi.

Right, young lady, I'm not letting you out
until you tell me everything.

I'd hate to see the stupid and clumsy approach.

OK, what do you want to know?

See?

So let's start with who got you pregnant.

- Ah.
- What do you mean, "ah"? Don't you know?

Well, it was at a party. It was dark.

What? What sort of party?

- Ben.
- I mean... was there food?

Look, Janey, I know things were a little hazy,
but surely you must have a shortlist.

Well... I've got a list.

Oh, so now you like the tie.

No, I'm wearing the tie.

- Happy Christmas!
- Happy Christmas, darling.

(Ben sighs)

- What's that?
- Chocolate raisin turkey with caramel.

Excuse me?

- It's Moroccan.
- Oh.

Right. Ah, yeah, I see, mm-hm, mm-hm.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Several pages of your cookbook
are stuck together.

Yeah. Ah, look,
you've moved from poultry to dessert.

That's how great discoveries are made.
Luddite.

- Where's the Golden Syrup?
- Oh, for...

It's the thought that counts.

- Shame it's such a horrible thought.
- Mm.

Nice tie.

And how are you this fine Christmas morning?

I feel a bit sick, actually.

This Christmas pudding wasn't cooked.

And I think I've swallowed the sixpence.

It's Christmas morning, everybody!

Great. 14 tons of pine needles
on the living room carpet,

chocolate raisin turkey on the horizon
and no Christmas pudding.

Yeah, what else?
Ah, yes, my teenage daughter's up the duff.

(To the tune of Deck The Halls)
# Fa la-la la-la la la la la! #

(Nick coughs, tinkling sound)

(Nick) I've found the sixpence.

- Hello, dear.
- What's that?

A nice cup of warm, sweet tea.

I'm not in shock.

No, but I am.

You know, dear, it doesn't really matter to me,

but your father, Mr Nosy...

was wondering what your young man
might think about all of this.

- What was his name again?
- I'm not going to tell you.

- Just give me his initials.
- Mum!

It'd be nice to know something
about my future son-in-law.

Background, hair colour,

species.

Look, I'm not going to marry him.

Oh, how a la mode. Why not?

Because I don't love him. I made one mistake.

I don't want to make my whole life a mistake.
Look at you and Dad.

Your father and I love each other very much.

Oh, so love doesn't help either?

Yes, it does.

I love you and I want to help.

OK, Mum.

- If you want to help, I'll let you.
- Oh, good.

Run down to the shops
and get me some lip gloss.

- (TV on)
- Excuse me, excuse me.

- Morning.
- Morning.

- Where's your sister?
- In her room.

Ah-hah! Good.

Right, what's on the telly?

Oh, yes, carols from an oil rig.

No, no, it clashes with Can't Christmas Cook,
Won't Christmas Cook.

Damn this aggressive scheduling.

- And who's the loser? I'll tell you. Joe Public.
- Yeah.

Nick...

- Yes, Dad?
- Who is this?

It's Mr Bradley.

- Sorry, who's Mr Bradley?
- He's an old person.

Yes, I...

I can see that. What... What's he doing here?

Mr Bradley was on his own this Christmas
so I invited him to spend the day with us.

- Oh, you did, did you?
- Yes.

I was thinking what you said about Christmas
not being about money, commerce or gain,

but being about goodwill and kindness
to others less fortunate.

All I said was get rid of the trees.

Oh, that was me reading between the lines.

Nick...

Nick, a pensioner is not just for Christmas.

Who's gonna feed him, take him for walks?

Mum?

OK, OK, I'll take him back
to the damp, cold old people's home

where the staff spray them with hoses
and steal their fruitcake.

- All alone on Christmas Day.
- If you wouldn't mind.

- But, Dad...
- It's all right, son, I'll just slip away quietly.

I thought it was too good to be true.

A family Christmas after all these years.

All right, all right, sit down, sit down.

- You can stay.
- I don't wanna ruin anyone's Christmas.

There's no danger of that in this house.

- Lunch is ready.
- See what I mean?

Come on, come on, let's start.

The sooner we start, the sooner we get it
over with. Come on, let's go, come on.

Ben, go and tell Janey lunch is ready.

- Oh, no. I'm not falling for that one.
- What one?

The old trick where you get me up there
to "engage" with her.

- All I want you to do is tell her lunch is ready.
- No, sorry, I'm not gonna pry.

- You just don't want to get involved.
- That's right. Ignorance is bliss.

Then you must be the happiest man
in the world.

I was till I married you.

I heard that.

LUNCH!

- Janey, lunch is ready... I'm afraid.
- Dad, wait, I really want to talk to you.

- Me?
- Yeah, come in.

We can converse at the lunch table.

Shut the door.

So what do you want to talk about?

Oh, that. Um, couldn't it wait till later?

- No, I need your help now.
- Oh, God, it's not started, has it?

Don't be silly, Dad.
Look, I want you to do something for me.

Oh, right, right, yeah.

How much?

No.

I want you to get Mum off my back.

Wouldn't you prefer money?

If Mum gets involved in this pregnancy,
she'll try and control everything.

Well, of course she will.

Your mother controls, my darling,
because... she cares.

And the more she cares,
the more she controls.

- Are you really that beaten down?
- Yeah.

Well, you're much easier to talk than Mum.

- Really?
- Mm.

Because you don't pay attention
and you forget.

You've gotta get Mum off the whole
"who's the father" thing.

Right, yeah. Right.

Hang on... you know who the father is.

Of course I do.
What do you think I am, some sort of slapper?

That's a topic for another day.

The thing is, Dad, it's my baby,
I'm responsible for it.

I want to bring it up on my own

without some moody,
emotionally-stunted bloke getting involved.

I don't want to get involved.

All right.

So, um... who is he, anyway?

Oh, so now you want to talk?

Mr Bradley, your family,

do they still...

- Are they...
- Dead?

- At all?
- Oh, no, no, worse than that. Far worse.

They live round the corner.

Oh, I see.

Two useless sons and a daughter.

Hey, they're just like us.

We haven't spoken for seven years.

Lucky you.

Well, turkey time! (Laughs jovially)

(Sighs) Ahem, I'm famished.

Glad you could make it.
Where have you been?

Um... telling Janey lunch was ready.

- And I listening.
- To me... telling Janey lunch was ready.

- You've been gone a long time.
- There's a lot to get across.

The potatoes, the parsnips, the...

. chocolate raisin turkey.

So what did she say?

- Hm?
- When you told her lunch was ready.

- I said, "I'll be right down."
- Glad you can talk about these things.

It's never easy for a dad
to tell his daughter lunch is ready.

- We'll talk later.
- No.

- Really?
- Um... later's good.

So, Janey, leg or breast?

- Actually, Mum, I'm a vegetarian.
- Help yourself to vegetables. Michael?

Actually, I'm a vegetarian.

- You could've told me earlier.
- I wanted to see what it looked like first.

I've always been vegetarian.

I just never knew it.

Well, I hope you like sprouts. Mr Bradley?

I'm a vegetarian.

Ben?

Um, a bit of everything, please.

Come on, give. What did she say?

Susan, she made me promise
not to betray her confidence.

Oh, right, I see. Good.

So what did she say?

Susan, I promised.

When will you learn
never make a promise you can't keep?

I can keep this one and I will. You watch me.

There shouldn't be any secrets
between husband and wife.

All right, lunch was crap.

When we got married,
we essentially became one person,

so if you told me,
you're really only talking to yourself.

- What, like a mad person?
- If you like.

Well, I'm not mad and I'm not talking.

Oh, I see.

Now, we know she told you something because
she made you promise to keep it secret.

Now, what could it possibly be?

Did she tell you, by any chance,
who the father of her baby is?

- I can't say.
- Good.

So she told you who the father of her baby is.
Names, names.

- Is it someone here or at university?
- She's dumped all of her boyfriends here.

Good. University.
So at least we know he has his A levels.

Stop this. It's getting really tiring.

If I tell you who he is,
would you promise not to tell Janey I told you?

Of course I won't tell her. I'm not stupid.

OK, it was this guy she met.

- Weird name. Um...
- What?

- I forget...
- Jurgen?

- No.
- Tiberius?

Rumpelstiltskin?

- That's it.
- Rumpelstiltskin.

No, Keanu. Keanu Brown.

Thank you.

As I said, boys are easier to break.

Susan, Susan, where are you...
where are you going?! Susan!

OK, Janey, no more secrets.
Your father's crumbled.

- Dad!
- Susan!

- Janey.
- Mum!

This is good. You're talking.

- You promised not to tell her!
- You promised not to tell her!

- You've broken my trust.
- Her trust was already broken when I broke it.

Hers was already broken,
mine was still intact.

A blazing row after lunch.
Isn't that what Christmas is all about?

I knew this would happen.
I'm never going to tell you anything ever again.

That's all right, dear, you can always tell me.

It'd be nice if we got the boy and his parents
over to discuss the future of my grandchild.

- No!
- Fine.

I'll just look up Brown in the phone book
and speak to Keanu myself.

Keanu Brown?

Where did you come up with a name like that?

With the number of Browns in the phone book,

it should keep your mother off your back
till the baby's first steps.

God help the boy
if there really is a Keanu Brown, though.

Thank you, Mrs Brown, and merry Christmas.

Hello. Is that the Brown household?
Do you have a son called Keanu?

OK. Well, thank you, Mrs Brown,
and merry Christmas.

Janey.

I'm all Browned out.

- Just give me the number, please.
- Sorry, Mum, I'm off to the pub.

- You're not going to drink?
- No, I'm going to lap dance.

Ooh, is there lap dancers? Wait for me!

- And me!
- Oi, oi, you're not allowed in pubs.

I am if I have a plated meal
in a clearly designated restaurant area.

- Coming, Dad?
- What? To the pub with my kids?

No.

Good. That gives us a chance to draw up
next year's baby-sitting schedule.

Mine's a pint, I'm buying!

Mr Bradley, it looks like we're all going
to the pub. Do you want to come?

No, I'm fine.

Well, here's the phone.

Why don't you give your family a call?
It's Christmas. It's time for miracles.

- (Ben) Nick, get off the car!
- (Car alarm)

Somewhere.

Nick, how many time have I told you,

don't buy things off men in pubs,
you only get ripped off.

Aw, Dad, they're not just for Christmas.

They can last for weeks.

Oh, no, not you, as well.

They're getting some fluffy kittens in
next week.

Susan, tell these kids they can't turn this house
into a menagerie... Oh, for God's sake!

They are so cute!

The furniture!

The telly!

They've taken Mr Bradley!

(All) Oooh!

- Thanks for phoning, Dad.
- Lovely telly.

Nice clear picture.

Thanks for helping me shift it.

Hey... what are families for?

- Merry Christmas, Grandad.
- Merry Christmas!

(All) Merry Christmas!