Oh Doctor Beeching! (1995–1997): Season 1, Episode 8 - Job Opportunity - full transcript

Jack and Cecil are down-hearted to learn that May has applied for a better paid job at the larger Loxley station, working for lecherous station master Fred Foster, but their own applications for a transfer and Cecil's refusal to give May a reference bear no fruit. Fred comes to Hatley where Harry names him as the man who broke up his marriage - and thanks him for it. Fortunately Dr. Beeching himself comes to their rescue, by closing down the Loxley line.

(Train whistle)

Thank you, Madam. Thank you, sir.

(Whistles) Right away!

(Train whistle)

Stationmaster, stationmaster,

– stationmaster, stationmaster...
– Morning, Ethel.

Morning, Jack. The postman
was delivering a letter at your house,

– I said I'd bring it down.
– Thanks, love.

– It's for May.
– Who's been writing to May?

– It's postmarked Clumberfield.
– She doesn't know anyone there.

– You don't know everyone she knows.
– What do you mean?



– Who does she know in Clumberfield?
– All I meant was...

Does that look like a man's writing?

It's not writing, it's typing.

Well, does it look like a man's typing?

Get a hold of yourself!
You've got to stop being so jealous.

When a man's got a beautiful wife,
there's that many lecherous swines about,

you can't help being jealous.

Why don't you trust her?

My late husband Earl,
he trusted me completely.

– Did he?
– Oh, yes.

When home on leave
and he had to go back to camp

he'd look at me and say,
"One thing I know for sure, Ethel,

"no man's going to be messing round you
while my back's turned."

I've got to know, Ethel.



– Who's been writing to May?
– Oh, give over.

Ooh, yeah...

You spoil Harry Lambert, Vera.

Why can't he fetch
his own fried egg sandwich?

He can't leave his signal box
now Mr Parkin's here.

Anyway, he's on his own
since his wife left him.

And you know what they say –

"A man without a woman
is like a sailboat without a carburettor."

I don't know why you fancy him.

He's miserable, tight with his money
and he doesn't bath much.

– What do you see in him?
– Well, he only lives two doors away.

Yeah, there is that I suppose.

May, there's a letter for you. Who's it from?

You better ask Vera, she's the clairvoyant.

How do I know who it's from
until I open it, you silly devil?

– Oh, Clumberfield.
– Excuse me, Mrs Skinner,

but you won't forget
about Harry's fried egg?

He doesn't like them hard.

My late husband was the same.

He was an engine driver, you know.

Blow Harry's fried egg,
I've got a job interview!

– A job?
– Manageress, buffet, Loxley station.

Loxley? That's miles away,
you'll have to change twice.

– Anyway, you've got a job here.
– This is a twopenny– ha'penny station,

Beeching will probably close it anyway.
This is a career move.

While you're talking, Mrs Skinner,
if you could just see to Harry's egg.

– There you are.
– Thank you.

– Good morning.
– Morning.

This is no life for a career woman, Jack.

Fried egg sandwich
the high spot of the day.

You didn't mention applying for jobs.

There was no need
until something came of it.

"Please present yourself
for interview at 12 noon on the 15th.

"Yours very truly, Frederick Foster,
District Catering Manager."

– 15th.
– That's today.

Oh, no!

Oh, typical. Why do all the men in my life

expect me to drop everything
just when it suits them?

Drop everything?

– Mrs Skinner's applied for a job at Loxley?
– Yes, managing the buffet.

She's got an interview at Clumberfield
with a "yours very truly" Frederick Foster.

– Frederick Foster?
– Do you know him?

– Only by reputation.
– Oh...

Anyway, when Jack heard
he was hopping mad –

he said, "Don't go," but she went home
to change and put clean underwear on.

Clean underwear? Whatever for?

What a coincidence!
That's just what Jack said.

Gloria, one day off from college
won't do you any harm.

You can help Vera run the buffet.

– Who's in charge? Me or old Vera?
– You're both in charge

and don't use tea
leaves like they're confetti.

There's a lot of dodgy people in Loxley.

And why wear clean underwear?
Who's going to get the benefit of that?

Oh, Dad – Mum wants to look her best,
don't she?

But who's going to see her underwear?

A woman has to feel
she's perfectly groomed from top to toe.

Your father finds these things
hard to understand, love.

Why do you want to manage Loxley buffet?

It's the same as here –
pies, ham sandwiches, tea.

I'll get more money,
it'll be a step up in my career.

Career? You don't have a career
on British Railways.

The likes of us, we have a job if we're lucky.

Gloria, this cup's still dirty. Do it again.

– Right, Jack...
– Ah, Mr Skinner.

The 9:43 is due,
you should be on that platform.

I've got personal problems.

We all have, Mr Skinner,
like how to keep our jobs.

Oh, blimey.

Oh, May, May, May...

May I just say...

that I hope your buffet will be properly
staffed while you're away.

Gloria and Vera
Plumtree will look after it.

– You're missing college. Is this wise?
– One day won't hurt her.

Gloria, go and see if Mr Bugden's
there with his bread van.

OK.

Ta– ra.

I wish you'd be more careful,
the things you say to me.

– Oh, May, you're leaving me!
– It's only an interview.

– I haven't got the job yet.
– But you will, with your looks and charm.

I find you after all these years
and now you want to move out of my orbit,

as if the earth would stop revolving
around the sun.

Oh, Cecil! You know you make
my head swim when you talk like that.

I mean... if I get this job
it might be all for the best.

Not for me, May. Not for me.

– And there's one thing I must ask.
– Yes?

Why have you changed your underclothes?

So, while she's off to Clumberfield
for her interview,

– I'm minding the buff– it.
– Oh, yeah?

If you should think of dropping in,
I might have special offers on.

Jack begged her not to go
but she was am– adant.

This bloke that May's going to see...

it wouldn't be Fred Foster
by any chance, would it?

– I believe that was the name mentioned.
– Yeah, that's him.

Yes, smooth– talking lecherous devil.

– He has a trail of ruined women behind him.
– Ooh!

He's a friend of yours?

You ought to ask him round some time.

– It's cos of him the wife left me.
– No!

Yeah. Met him on a train.
Train went into Harefield tunnel –

when it came out
she was a different woman.

I knew something must have happened.

She started shaving her legs.

Well, that sort of thing must play havoc
with a man's self– respect.

Plays havoc with his razor blades,
I know that much.

Now, you've done this enough times, Ralph.

I've done it so many times
I feel I could do it with me eyes shut.

Yes, but you haven't done it right yet.

Even with them open.

You have got them open,
haven't you, Ralph?

Ralph, open your eyes.

(Hissing)

Perhaps it does help a bit.

– Don't go, May.
– Don't be silly, Jack.

– You ought to be encouraging her.
– You'll wish me luck?

I won't – if you get that
job I'll hardly see you.

That could put mystery back
into our marriage.

It's a mystery to me already.
I don't know how you put up with him.

Come on, Jack, send us off,
we're late already.

This train's going
nowhere till May gets off.

Don't be silly, Jack. Parkin'll sack you.

– He's bustin' to cut staff.
– He can do what he likes.

If you're so keen to lose your job
I should try to get another.

Come on, Jack, let's be 'avin' ya.

– (Whistle)
– Hey!

Right away! Good luck, Mum!

That'll be one and tuppence.
Thank you very much.

Oh, quick, give us a cup of tea, Vera.

– How are you managing?
– Easy as falling off a piece of cake.

(Whispers) Hey, I see that man's bought
a British Railways pie.

Must be a stranger round here.

– Why do you say that?
– Your mother's got a system, you see.

She always shifts the oldest pies first.

I wonder if she's had her interview yet?

Be great for her if she gets it –
working in Loxley!

Instead of this dead'n'alive hole.

It'll be exciting working there,
it's really swingin'.

They have a very good wool shop,
that I do know.

I bet that's why she wants the job then.
The glamour, you see.

Fancy.

Ethel, between you and me,

Harry Lambert knows this Fred Foster
who's interviewing Mrs Skinner

and Harry says he's very lustful.

He says he cannot see
a woman without lustin'.

I sometimes wish I'd gone into catering.

– Mum, how's long's dinner gonna be?
– Oh, I don't know.

– What we 'aving?
– Sausages.

That means it'll be this long then.

(Knocking)

Come.

Er... Can I have a word?

– What is it, Mr Skinner?
– It's about May.

– She's put in for a Loxley job.
– I know.

– She might get it, she's a bonny woman.
– I know.

– The interviewer is a lecherous devil.
– I know.

– I'm worried if she gets the job...
– She'll get it – standing on her head.

Sit down, Mr Skinner.

– What's this?
– I can see you're upset.

– Regard this as medicinal.
– I can see it is.

– ls yours medicinal or what?
– I'm as worried as you are.

– Why?
– Well, because, as one of my staff,

your worry is my worry.

– if she gets that job she'll be away all day.
– I know.

If she works shifts, some nights
she'll have to stop over.

I know.

– She's a very demanding woman.
– I know.

Er... l believe there are such women.

Aye, well, the thing is...

she needs a fair amount of attention.

So, if the wife gets that job
can you get me a transfer to Loxley?

Er... Transfer to Loxley?

– On passionate grounds.
– You... You mean compassionate.

I know what I mean.

I'm afraid it's out of the question.
Beeching's put a block on transfers.

We all have to stay where we are
and keep very still.

It something to do with the fact that
he wants to count how many of us there are.

I'm sorry, no.

So much for "your worry is my worry".

Stiff upper lip, Mr Skinner.

The 1:40's due – duty calls.

(Train whistle)

One day duty'll call
and I won't be listening...

cos I'll have done away with meself.

Mr Orkindale?
It's Cecil Parkin here at Hatley.

Parkin.

P– A– R... Well, no, it's not
an emergency exactly, Mr Orkindale, I...

Well, yes... l– I was wondering... ls
there any chance of a transfer to Loxley?

I know I've only just come to Hatley...

Yes, I understand that British Railways
is in turmoil, I was only...

Mr Orkindale? Mr Orkindale?

Yoo– hoo! I'm back, Jack!

– That ladder in your stocking.
– I know. First time on as well.

– It's in your left stocking.
– There's no need to tell everybody.

– This morning it was in your right stocking.
– You're mistaken.

No, I'm not. It's on a different leg.

When you saw me this morning,
did I have me back to you?

Er... Yeah.

Oh, there y'are then.

No, I'm not having that!
Come here, sit down.

It's on a different leg to what it was
and I wanna know why.

Have I got this right?
When I set off for me interview

you noticed a ladder in me stocking
and you didn't tell me?

No – I hoped it might stop you
getting the job.

So you didn't tell me.

– No, it took Mr Foster to do that.
– Oh, I bet he noticed it.

– I bet he couldn't take his eyes off 'em.
– You've not even asked how I got on.

– I'm more bothered how he got on.
– Right! That does it!

– Oh, M...
– (Whistle outside)

(Jack, outside) Right away!

Vera, wherever I go men are staring
at my legs. I'm sick of it.

May... Er, Mrs Skinner.

– You're back, then?
– Yes, for the time being.

May, I, er... l wanted
to ask you something.

– Yes, Cecil.
– Yes, I wanted to ask you how...

How... How is it
that when you left this morning

you had a ladder in your right stocking

and now it's in your left one.

– May!
– I want a straight answer.

– Excuse me, Mr Parkin.
– One moment please.

– Vera, can I have a word?
– Yes, what is it, Mrs Skinner?

So far nobody at all
has asked me how I did in my interview.

– Ah...
– Erm...

– How did you do in your interview?
– Thank you, Vera.

Since you ask I did very, very well.

Mr Foster says that I have everything
it takes to satisfy him.

– Eh?
– I'm just the woman he's been looking for.

– Ah.
– All I have to do is supply a reference.

Oh, yes – and I have to pass his
"practical test".

I'll kill him!

He's coming here this evening
to sample my goodies.

I'll help you.

To see if my pies are tasty
and my tea steaming hot.

All being well, when he gets here
tonight the job is mine.

I can't say I'll be sorry to go.

Hey, Harry, going to the club tonight?

– I go every night.
– Listen, come to the buffet.

If you go down to the buffet tonight
you're in for a big surprise.

Fred Foster's coming.

– Fred Foster?
– Yeah.

The man who was responsible
for your missus leaving home.

That man wants gelding.

A pair of garden shears should do the trick.
You can borrow mine.

That man is a beast in human guise.

Jack! What are you doing?
Harry could go down there and kill him!

– Exactly.
– Oh, I think that's wicked.

All's fair in love and
British Railways, Ethel.

Well, it...

Wilfred, are you going fishin'?

No, it's formation dancing practice night.

Don't be so cheeky to your mother.

– What's in your tin?
– That's me maggots.

– Ugh.
– Well, we're all God's creatures, aren't we?

They have their uses.
Wilf, lad, sell us one for a tanner.

– You can have the lot for two bob.
– No, I only want one,

– but a lively mover.
– Help yourself.

That chap Foster's coming
to sample May's buffet,

drink some tea and try a pie.

(Chuckles) Hey, Ethel, what's the worst
thing you can find when you bite into a pie?

A maggot?

Wrong.

Half a maggot.

You can't ask me to write a glowing
reference, I'll be helping you go away.

If you care about me, and you keep saying
you do, you'd want to help me.

– I do care, May.
– Then write me a reference.

Go on, I've already drafted it out.
I'll dictate it to you.

Oh, May.

– "Mrs May Skinner..."
– "Mrs May Skinner..."

– "..is a woman..."
– "..is a woman." He's already noticed that.

– "..who can cope..."
– "Who can cope..."

– "..with any demands made on her."
– No!

No! I can't write that, May.
A thousand times no.

Right. I'll get this job
without your reference then.

I'll ask Mr Orkindale to oblige me.

He's always been willing to in the past.

(Thinks) 'l must save her
from this beast Foster.

'Think, Cecil, think!

'If I sabotaged her efforts tonight...

'lf something nasty got into the tea...

'Syrup of figs!

'That's it!

'Oh, Cecil, no wonder you're the youngest
stationmaster in this district.'

– Just wanted to say good luck, Mum.
– Thanks, love.

– Do you want me to do anything?
– No, that's all right.

Fingers crossed. See you later!

– See you, Dad.
– Have a good time, love.

What do you want?
I hope you're not going to embarrass me.

Would I do that?
No, I've just come to wish you good luck.

Thanks, Jack. You don't know
how much that means to me.

You know I only want what's right for you.

– You've been a good husband to me, Jack.
– What do you mean "been"?

– I haven't finished yet, have I?
– No!

Your lipstick's smudged,
it needs touching up.

You see to it, I'll look after the counter.

Right. Oh, and don't sell that pie on top,
that's the freshest.

It's for Mr Foster.

I'm glad you told me that.

I often wondered what that one was for.

Come on, lad, that's a good boy.

Now then... Get in there, sunshine,
it's your birthday!

I've helped meself to a beer, love.
The money's in the till.

Right. Don't stand there
cluttering up the counter.

– Mr Foster could be here any minute.
– Yeah...

All right, love.

Good evening, Mrs Skinner, Mr Skinner.

– (Jack) Evening.
– What do you want?

A bottle of pale ale, please and just
to say that if this is what you desire

– then bonne chance, Mrs Skinner.
– Thank you, Mr Parkin.

Ah, dear lady, good evening to you.

Mr Foster! You found me then.

It wasn't difficult. All I had to do
was get off at the right station.

My word. This is no place for you.

Here you are, like a rose blooming
in the wilderness.

We shall have to transplant you,
shan't we, hm?

Bed you out in Loxley, what?

– Have we met somewhere before?
– It's possible. I'm Parkin.

I was at Clumberfield for a time.
I'm stationmaster here now.

I see. Yes, yes.

– Can I offer you anything, Mr Foster?
– You'd be surprised, my dear.

But, duty before pleasure.

Let me see.
A cup of your finest tea please and, erm...

– one of those pies, I think.
– Coming right up.

Your every wish is my command.

Dear lady.

(♪ Humming happily)

Oh, 'eck!

Oh, thank you.

Would you require a knife
to quarter your pie with?

– Or even a fork?
– No, my dear, I shall eat it the man's way.

Fingers came before forks, hm? (Chuckles)

Your tea will be one minute,
it's just mashin'.

– Ah.
– ls there anything else I can offer you?

I'm sure there is, my dear.

But we'll talk about that later.

He's coming! He's coming!

(Panting) Oh, it's Harry! He's on his way.

It's just like in that picture

where Gary Cooper walked down the street
and fought them baddies!

If there's going to be
fighting, I can't look.

Mind you, I could try to force meself.

Fred Foster?

Possibly, possibly.

Six years ago you met my wife on a train.

It's possible. I travel around
a great deal, you know.

After which she up and left me.

And I never, ever saw her again.

– Now, my dear fellow...
– So, I've just come to say to you...

thank you very much!

It– It's a pleasure to shake your hand.

It's a pleasure, dear fellow,
a pleasure. (Mouths)

I couldn't just let it go
without saying something, could I?

– You're all talk, Harry Lambert.
– Shut up!

Jaw, jaw, jaw is better than war, war, war.

– Your tea.
– Ah, thank you.

– May I join you, Mr Skinner?
– Aye.

Skinner? Skinner? Is that, erm...?

– Yes.
– Perhaps I ought to have a word just to...

Excuse me, my dear.

Erm, do you mind if I join you gentlemen?

Sir, you are a very lucky man.

And you have a very talented wife...

and I believe I'm going to have
to take her away from you.

Eat your pie.

And your tea's getting cold.

– lndeed.
– Heard the news?

That beggar Beeching's struck again.

He's closed down Loxley.

– What?!
– What?!

He's closed all that line.
Loxley is closing and every job – gone.

Evenin', all.

That'll mean the refreshment room as well,
I suppose.

Well, erm...

I'll, erm... bid you good night.

I'm sorry, dear lady.

Pity. Put it down to one of
life's little... might– have– beens.

Well, that was a brief encounter all right.

Blasted Dr Beeching!

– My word, Mr Skinner.
– By 'eck, Mr Parkin.

That pie looks too good to go to waste.

Aye, and the daft beggar's
forgotten to drink his tea.

(Together) Well done, Dr Beeching!

♪ Oh, Dr Beeching, what have you done?

♪ There once were lots of trains to catch
but soon there will be none

♪ I'll have to buy a bike
cos I can't afford a car

♪ Oh, Dr Beeching,
what a naughty man you are

♪ Oh, Dr Beeching, what have you done?

♪ There once were lots of trains to catch
but soon there will be none

♪ I'll have to buy a bike
cos I can't afford a car

♪ Oh, Dr Beeching,
what a naughty man you are ♪

(Train whistle)