Not Going Out (2006–…): Season 11, Episode 5 - War - full transcript

# Yeah!
Not going out, not staying in

# Just hanging around
with my head in a spin

# But there is no need to scream
and shout

# We're not going out

# We are not going out. #

DOORBELL RINGS

KNOCK ON DOOR

KNOCKING CONTINUES

All right!

DOORBELL RINGS REPEATEDLY

All right! Keep your hair on.



KNOCKING ON DOOR

HE SIGHS

What the bloody hell time
do you call this? 3:50am -

exactly as scheduled.

The taxi will arrive at 3:55am

and we depart at precisely 4am.

Did you not read my itinerary?

I'll wait for the film.

Nice to see you, Frank.

And you, Wendy.

If anyone's going to arouse me
in the middle of the night,

I want it to be you.

Come in!

Perhaps we'll give you a minute
to get dressed.



In private!

Please yourself.

All right! I'm sorry. I'm coming!

I'm so sorry,
the alarm didn't go off.

I'm going to be running
behind schedule, Lucy.

Relax, we've got loads of time.

It's a 90-minute taxi ride
to the airport,

one hour to get through security
and check-in,

and, once one factors in a potential
quarantine period for Frank,

I'd say we're pushing it.
Kate, wake up! Get dressed right now

before Grandpa Grumpy Bollocks
reads us the Riot Act!

Oh! You're here.

Morning.

Good morning to you,
Grandpa Grumpy Bollocks.

The taxi for the airport will arrive
in exactly four minutes.

Do you know what I'd do, Geoffrey?
No.

Even after all these years,
I've still got nothing.

Well, when I'm making travel plans,
I will factor in a contingency.

Maybe you should have done that.
I did.

I allowed an extra two minutes
in case we have to dump you

at the side of the road.

Dad's right. We need to get going.

What are you doing?

I'm opening the curtains.

You can't leave them open
for four days.

It sends a message to burglars.

You can't leave them closed
for four days.

That's what sends a message
to burglars.

Whatever the message, you seem
to be sending it by semaphore.

All right.

What about sort of
half and half, like that?

You mean the configuration
that no-one ever uses

unless they're going away? Oh, yeah.

Because it'll be the curtains
to blame for a burglary, won't it,

Mrs "Four days in France,
can't wait, #holidays."

Oh, I do hope Raffles hasn't read
my Instagram account.

He might steal my priceless
drawerful of old tights.

I'd hardly call a trip
to Normandy a holiday, Lee.

We're going to pay our respects

at the place where Wendy's
Uncle George fell,

a man who literally fought them
on the beaches,

fought them on the landing grounds,

fought them in the fields,
and fought them in the streets.

Oh, a bit of a drinker, was he?

I want everyone behaving
with respect at these memorials.

What are you looking at me for?

No-one wants a repeat of the penalty
shoot-out at Stonehenge.

Our family know how to behave.

We've lost people
in our family as well.

Yes, but if we commemorated all the
places where your relatives fell,

there'd be a plaque outside
every Wetherspoon's in Lancashire.

I'm sure everyone
will be very respectful.

Good, because we're going to honour
some very brave men.

If I'd been born at a different
time, I'd like to think

I could have played my part
in the Second World War.

I'm sure you did your best
the first time round.

And it's not just her Uncle George.

Did you know that Wendy's father,
Jack, escaped from Colditz?

Molly told me all about it
last night.

She's been very interested
in the war since we told her

about Grandad Jack
and Uncle George.

She had Frank playing
Escape From Colditz until midnight.

I'm not sure I agree with board
games that trivialise the war.

You'd like it, Wendy.

It's all about how to escape
imprisonment from a fascist.

Oh!

The minibus is here.

I'll bet your father's got some
tales to tell, Wendy.

His generation didn't really like
to talk about the war.

He told me one or two.

Where the Gestapo failed,
Geoffrey succeeded.

Well, we haven't got time
for them now. We need to go.

Kids, hurry up!

We're coming! Hang on, have you
checked the fridge?

I did it last night.

There's a whole bottle of milk
in here!

What if it goes off? Just chuck it
away! It's a two-litre one.

I'm not throwing away perfectly good
milk. We can't take it to Normandy.

Why not? I don't know, Lee.

There was something about buying
a wreath that felt more appropriate.

Just to let you know,
you can actually freeze milk.

Don't tell him that.
I want to see if he can do it.

HE SIGHS

HE BURPS

Anyone?

We need to go. Kids!

OK!

Has everyone got their passports?

Oh!

I've got our five.

Hang on. Where's mine?

It was in here. Oh, for God's sake.

You're going to need it.

I have been away before, you know.

Yes, but you don't need a passport
when it's at Her Majesty's pleasure.

Please, hurry up and find it.

Yes, or we'll need to sneak you
on in a suitcase.

Don't be silly -
we could get him on as hand luggage.

HORN BEEPS

Hang on, they can't leave
without me.

Help him find it.

HORN BEEPS

Oh. Are you coming through
Customs with us,

or are you planning on jumping out
over Belgium?

They were learning about
the Second World War at school,

and they got to borrow
some costumes.

They were looking up military
records and all sorts.

Are we having breakfast?
Yeah. Milk.

Think of it as rationing.

There isn't time for breakfast.

We'll get something
at the airport, darling.

Polish your medals.

I think McDonald's do
a military discount.

Where's that bloody passport gone?

I can't miss out on
paying my respects,

especially to those sailors
in the little boats

that brought
our brave boys back home.

Lest we forget.

That was Dunkirk, Grandad.

Oh... Did you forget?

D-Day was the landing beaches.

There was Utah, Omaha...

No, sweetheart.

That's in America.

What are they teaching the kids
in schools these days?

Molly's correct. Utah and Omaha
were code names

for the beaches in Normandy.

So, which one was King's Landing?

That was Game Of Thrones!

Oh!

We need to get going. Go and tell
your brothers to hurry up.

Where the hell is it?

Do you like war films, Frank?

I know this is a trap, but, yes.

There's always that great bit

where the hero gets injured
and tells the rest of his soldiers

to go on without him.

I'm not injured.

Easily rectified.

It was in the side pocket,
zipped up.

Oh, yes.
I must be losing my marbles.

I put sugar in the fridge last week.

Sugar's his cat.

Don't worry, it's in date.

I wasn't checking the date.

I was checking to see whether
the stools swivel round high enough

to lift your head into frame.

When you're finished,

we've got a whole can of
squirty cream to get through.

Let's have a look at yours,
then, shall we?

Oh, a very handsome picture.

Very sexy.

I could swipe right for that.

Oh, my mistake, Geoffrey.

It's Wendy's passport.

March 12th 1945.

A very good vintage,
if I may say so.

1945?

Do you mind, Frank? That's person...

He's right, Mum.

Your passport's got a mistake on it.

You born in 1947,
and they've put 1945.

I don't believe it.

That's right. Oh, what a nuisance.

Have you never noticed it before?

It's, um, a new passport.
I've only recently renewed it.

They must have made a mistake
at the Passport Office.

Well, we can't turn up at Heathrow
with a dodgy passport.

We'll all be strip-searched.

You strip-searched?
That'll be double gloves.

We'll be fine.

Wendy's travelled through Customs on
that passport hundreds of times.

But she just said it was brand-new.

Ah. So she did.

Yes, it's new.

No, it isn't.

The date of issue says it's
six years old.

Yes, that's right.

No, I must have made a mistake.

When I said that it was new,

what I meant to say was that it...

..wasn't.

Are you guys getting in my cab
or not?

The tax expires in April!

We're coming right now.

Kids!

Mum!

What's going on?

It's really not a big deal.

Well, then, you might as well
tell us.

A lot of people, as we get
a little older,

aren't entirely honest
about our age.

You lied to the Passport Office?

No, of course not.

I'm sorry, but I'm a little
confused.

How old are you, exactly?

Shall we cut her open
and count the rings?

You may as well tell her.

I'm two years older than you were
always led to believe, Lucy.

I don't believe this.

Do you need a drink?

Why lie about your age?

It was a long time ago,
before I met your dad.

The good old days, eh?

The dawn before the dark.

I was approaching 30, unmarried.

I was worried that people
would call me an old spinster,

so I decided to remain 28
for a couple of years longer

than I was strictly entitled.

And then she met me.

And realised she'd be better off
adding a couple of decades.

At the time, I told the same lie
to your dad,

but, a short time later,
he happened to stumble across

my birth certificate,
so I told him the truth.

But I'd been dishonest
with so many people,

it sort of became easier
to keep lying. Mum!

Oh, Luce, it's not that bad.

Exactly. What's an extra couple of
years at your mum's age?

It's a drop in the ocean.

Drink your milk.

So, that time I spent a fortune
flying you to Rome

for your 60th birthday,

you were actually 62?

Yes, but these things even out.

Two years earlier,
when I really was 60,

you gave me a money-off voucher
for Wagamama's.

Come on, we're going to
miss this flight.

Yeah, hurry up, Lucy.
It was 700 quid, those tickets!

A small price compared
to the one paid by Wendy's uncle.

At least he managed to make
it over the Channel.

OK, we'd better go.

Ten minutes can make all
the difference.

So, you can imagine
how I'm feeling about two years.

Kids, we're going!

Coming! I'll quickly go
to the bog and then we'll be off.

Frank, we need to go.

When you get to my age,
you can't get yourself moving

until you've got yourself moving,
if you know what I mean!

Wendy's father had an easier job
escaping from Colditz

than we're having
leaving this house!

Great-grandad Jack didn't escape
from Colditz. What?!

You'll have to use the toilets
at the airport, Frank, we're late!

Benji, Charlie,
we're leaving right now!

He was in Colditz,

but he isn't on the list
of people who escaped.

It's on the internet.

What are you talking about?

The internet, Geoffrey.

It's like Ceefax,
only with mucky pictures.

I looked up Great-grandad Jack's
military records.

You must've made a mistake, darling.

No, there's no mistake, Wendy.

It says here Jack was in Colditz
to the end of the war,

but there's no mention of him
escaping.

Oh, come on, Geoffrey.

You never believe anything
I show you on the internet.

Well, this isn't a photograph
of a dog with seven gonads, Wendy.

This is an official document.

Oh... What's going on?

Go upstairs, Molly.

Up, down, up, down.

It's not easy being a soldier.

My father was a prisoner in Colditz!

Yes, yes, we've established that.

He was very successful
in terms of getting captured.

I've got a question.

If it's about the dog
with seven gonads - no.

All right. Forget it, then.

He didn't really escape,
did he, Mum?

No.

I don't believe this.

Your father lording it over me
all those years

with tales of heroism!
The bloody liar!

I beg your pardon!
At least he fought for his country.

What have you ever done?

Entered into a border dispute
over some leylandii?

I'd have happily gone into combat
with any European nation.

Whatever the pretext.

This is the most outrageous betrayal
I've ever experienced.

I think you're overreacting
a little bit, Geoffrey.

Overreacting?

Do you know what it's like to spend
your whole life being made to feel

inferior to your father-in-law?

No. Imagine...

It doesn't make any difference to me
whether he escaped or not,

he's still a hero. Now, we need
to go right now! Kids!

Oh, it makes a difference.

A huge difference.

If Grandad Jack didn't escape,

that means he didn't come home
until the end of the war.

September 1945.

So...?

So if you're now telling us
you were born in March 1945...

..how can he be your father?

I really need to go to the bog.

Just go.

I don't want to miss any of this.

I don't suppose you could continue
this conversation outside the loo,

could you?

I think you owe everyone
an explanation, Wendy.

Why don't we discuss this
over a nice cup of tea?

Will you stop worrying
about the bloody milk?

I don't want a cup of tea.

I want to know why I've been
deceived about your father

for my entire marriage.

So do I.

When my father was captured, my
mother was on her own for many years

with no way of knowing whether
her husband was alive or not.

Can you imagine what that's like?

Sometimes, none of us know whether
your husband's alive or not.

Then, of course, there started
to be a lot of American soldiers

stationed over here.

Mum, are you going to tell me Nan
had some kind of love affair

with an American soldier?

No, of course not.

It was more of a one-night stand.

Typical Yank.

Sounds like they did more than that.

I don't know which is worse -

the immorality or the fact that
I unwittingly married an American!

Half-American, technically.

Well, at least it explains
why you drove anticlockwise

around the Hersham roundabout.

So, Grandad Jack
wasn't my real grandad?

Sorry to interrupt this middle-class
version of Jeremy Kyle...

..I've got other fares waiting.
We're coming now.

No, we are not.

Sorry, we're just having
a little debate.

Leave or remain. These things
never take long, do they?

The war ended.

Dad came home
to find her with a child.

Little baby Wendy.

Were you named after
the American burger bar?

But he chose to forgive her
and raised me as his own.

So, when did you find out
what really happened?

As soon as I was old enough to talk
to people, it was obvious.

Because of your accent?

Can you please stop talking?

I was brought up in
a very small village.

We were the local scandal.

I hated people judging my family.

So, when I met your dad,
I chose not to tell him.

Hence the reason I pretended
my father escaped from Colditz.

Instead of you feeling humiliated,

you allowed me to be humiliated
by your lying father.

He didn't humiliate you.

Is that so? Hm. "I didn't escape
from Colditz

"for my daughter to marry
a man like you, Geoffrey!

"I didn't escape from Colditz for
you to give her a cheap wedding!

"I didn't escape from Colditz
for you to take her

"on a honeymoon to Bognor Regis!"

Well, he clearly kept trying
to tell you

he didn't escape from Colditz.

So, back in the 1970s,
when you admitted you lied to me

about your age,
it wasn't because you were worried

about being left on the shelf!

Of course not. Those attitudes went
out with the dinosaurs.

Yeah, but you were
going out with one.

So, not only did you lie
about your age,

you lied about the reason for lying,

which was to cover up another lie,

which you then perpetuated
by lying again.

Is that what you're telling me?

Well?

Are you sure she understood
the question?

So, what happened to your biological
father? The American?

What do you think happened?

June 1944 came.

He was part of the D-Day
landings in Normandy.

The place we're all going to visit.

Where Uncle George died.

I never had an Uncle George.

It's just what I refer to
this American soldier as,

for my mother's dignity.

His real name was
Private George Powell,

an American serviceman

who died in action.

Another lie.

It wasn't Uncle George.

It was Uncle bloody Sam.

I don't believe this.

We're going to miss this flight.

Yeah, come on, Lucy.

There are some things in life
you can't change.

History. Certain life choices.

Non-refundable airline tickets.

Lee's right, Lucy.

I know it must be a shock for you.

I dread to think what that would do
to my grandchildren

if they found out
I wasn't their real grandad.

I can only imagine the devastation.

But what's done is done.

Things were different
during the war.

Like Wendy said, people were lonely
and frightened.

They didn't know if their loved
ones were ever coming home.

Who are we now to sit in judgment?

Biological. Non-biological.

It only matters,
if you're buying washing powder.

It was going so well.

You know, Lucy, I don't know
much about history,

don't know much biology...

Don't do the whole song.

There is a cab waiting.

..but I'm willing to be educated.

So, how about we stop fighting,

we get on this plane,

and we go learn something about
the sacrifice those men made?

Geoffrey?

I'm still struggling with the image
of Frank buying washing powder,

but, yes, let's go
and pay our respects.

Lucy?

I thought you needed the loo?

The moment's passed.

I mean, I'll go at the airport.

Come on, Lucy, does it matter?

Your grandad Jack was always there
for you when you needed him.

So, he'll always be your grandad.
Whatever.

832!

The number of bricks
on the front of your house.

Well?

Can you take our cases
to the car, please?

The kids are just coming.

I hope there's no turbulence
on the plane, Lee.

You'll be full of butter.

At the end of the day, Lucy,
your parents aren't the only ones

that had questions asked about them.

My mother had it, too.

Hang on, what?

I'll tell you later.

Two more minutes.

Questions? What sort of questions?

Like I said, it happened a lot,

women finding companionship
while their men were away from home.

Away from home?
Your dad was a bus driver.

Exactly.

He was away from home
ten hours a day.

What was it, Frank?
Another one-night stand?

Oh, no, nothing that sordid.

None taken!

A full-on romantic liaison,
apparently.

Was he American, too?

Oh, no, nothing like that. My mother
would never have sold herself

for a bar of fancy American
chocolate

and a pair of Nylon stockings.

So, what did it in the end?

Kit Kat and a pair of pop socks?

Who was he? Someone she met
through her volunteer work.

What volunteer work?

Well, during that time,
there was a lot of soldiers

in hospital recovering
from war injuries,

and sometimes they appreciated
a visitor, a shoulder to cry on.

And she didn't think
a bunch of grapes was enough?

She always had a fondness
for a man in uniform.

Is that why she married
a bus driver?

This patient just so happened
to have a room on his own,

and sometimes they would
turn a blind eye

and give my mum and this soldier
some private time,

especially if they slipped
a small bribe to the wardens.

Wardens?

What kind of hospital has wardens?

I think he means a prison hospital,
don't you, Frank?

You're telling me that you are
the result of a bunk-up

between my nan and some
bloke in prison?

My money was on a lab experiment
that went wrong.

She just got swept up in the moment.

Oh, it's easily done, isn't it?
Long drive to the prison,

buzzed in through the main gate,
straight through security,

then on through lots of locked doors

and then into another secure unit
and into the secure hospital wing.

Hm? She didn't have time to think,
did she?

So, my real grandad was a convict?

No, he wasn't a convict.

In fact, some would say
he was a war hero.

Why would they lock a war
hero up in prison?

Was he a conscientious objector?
Is that what you mean? No.

In fact, the complete opposite.

He very much fought for his country.

Am I the only one not following
this? I think so.

Come on, Lee, do the maths.

Sorry, MATH.

He was a prisoner during the war.

Say it again.

A prisoner during the war...

Lee, I think... Don't help him!

He's nearly got it.

He was a prisoner of war? Bingo!

He was a bloody German?!

Now, don't overreact, son.

That's right, Lee.
Stay calm, humourless and efficient.

It's what your grandfather
would have wanted, ja?

I don't believe this!

Oh, really? A few minutes ago, you
seemed to think it wasn't important!

At least yours was fighting
on the right side!

And yet still he drinks die Milch!

At least he won't get osteoporosis.

If it was up to me, Lee,
I would have told you years ago,

but the rest of the family
insisted on keeping it quiet.

I was only following orders.

Oh, good God!
So, why are you telling me now?

I was trying to make
Lucy feel better!

What, by saying she's married
into the Luftwaffe?!

How did you know
he was in the air force?

How else would he have ended up
in Chorley?

He could hardly go goose-stepping
through the Channel Tunnel,

could he? Calm down,
Lee, you're being ridiculous.

Yeah, all right, Mum.

It can be quite a shock finding out
that your family tree

has just been uprooted.
Are you all right, hun?

I mean, darling!

Look we need to get to the airport.
We can't arrive late.

That's rich,
coming from an American!

Half-American, and, if it wasn't
for the Americans,

you'd be speaking German by now!

I'm surprised me dad isn't speaking
German already!

I'm not bloody German!
You're saying that because you lost!

It doesn't change who you are

just because you might have
a bit of German in you!

Oh, yeah? Was that his chat-up
line to Nan?

Now, don't talk about
your nan like that!

Oh, can you all calm down
and keep your voices down, please?

YELLS: Kids! Downstairs! Now!

What? This is the only costume
they had left.

He's definitely yours, Lee.

So, Nana, did your daddy
lie to everyone?

Were you listening?

In answer to your question, Molly,

he's not quite
the man we thought he was.

But he still fought in the war,
which means he's still a hero.

Well, if he wasn't
Nana's real daddy,

but he still loved her the same,

then I think he was a good man,
don't you, Grandad?

Yes, of course he was.

And, Nana, if your mummy hadn't
met the American soldier,

would you still have been born?

I suppose not.

Then you should be glad
that it happened, not embarrassed.

And if Nana hadn't been born,

where would we all be?

You three?

Well, I guess maybe you three
wouldn't be here at all.

Then I'm glad it happened.

Yes, well, then I'm glad
it happened, too.

Right, no more warnings.

The last chopper is leaving Saigon.

Come on. Let's go...

..before we find out Geoffrey's
grandfather was Stalin.

Who ordered the minibus,
by the way?

Me. Local firm?

Yeah.

I'd have had you down for an Uber!

Come on, let's go
and pay our respects.

MINIBUS DOORS CLOSE

ENGINE STARTS

# Yeah!
Not going out, not staying in

# Just hanging around
with my head in a spin

# But there is no need
to scream and shout

# We're not going out

# We are not going out. #

Hello, Lee.

Hello, Dad.

So, it's true, you do exist.

Just give me a chance
to prove I've changed, son.

What's the other thing?

Can you lend me 500 quid?

All right, son?

I reckon you're in there.

All right, son?

Do you mind if I watch?

Oh, for the love of God!

I'll leave you alone
for a few minutes.

Can you give us 20, Tim?

20 minutes? Fine.

No, no, 20 quid for the cab.

I really, really love you, son!

Come 'ere!

I think that suppository's
finally kicking in.

Ahoy there!

I'd give it five minutes,
if I were you.

Remind me again
why I didn't invite him.

THEY SCREAM

I've got a great best man's speech.

Ladies and gentlemen,

what's the difference
between the bride's knickers...?

All right, we'll be fine, thanks.

This is great. I've never been
in a police van before.

Well, not in the front anyway.

I know, he's not what you'd expect.

No, he's pretty much
exactly what I'd expect.

I couldn't just leave
my new grandchild here, could I?

Don't forget, head between knees
on the crash landing!

# Together we'll be OK! #