To the Manor Born (1979–2007): Season 1, Episode 6 - The Grape Vine - full transcript

(Banging)

Mother, how much longer are you going to be
building that aircraft carrier?

I am arranging a few flowers.

Well, it sounds like a shipyard.

Do you have to make so much noise?

Yes, I do. It's comforting for me.

What, noises?
Yes.

It's too quiet here. If's not natural.

But I thought we came here for peace and quiet.

Yes, but not as much as this.

Nothing ever happens here.



Nobody comes to see us
and we never go anywhere.

(Laughs) Oh, Mother.
It's true.

And people are beginning to ask what it is
you are trying to hide down here.

They think you must be up to something.

Well, what are they saying?

Oh, if only I knew.

I see them talk behind their hands.

I get dirty looks.

Oh, I am ashamed to hold up my head
in the chiropodist.

Well, what do you want me to do?
Hold an open day?

Ooh, that's a good idea.

What, an open day?
No, a party.

Oh, no, no. I don't want to have a party.

All right, we'll have a party.
Yes. Anything for peace and quiet.



Oh, well, in that case...
who are we going to invite?

Let's see...

All names on this list.

Mother, you've got at least 50 names on this list.

Yes, I thought just a small party to start with.

And you've got Audrey's name down twice.

Well, so I should.
She's worth two of any of the others.

You know we're not talking at the moment?

Well, it's time that you patched it up with her.

Yes, but it's up to her to make the first move
after what she did to me.

Oh, please yourself.

Invite whom you like, but I will invite whom / like.

All right. That's settled. We'll have a party.
Now...have you finished banging now?

One more.

There.

Peace at last.
Mother, not too quiet for you, is it?

No. Not now.

(Sighs)

(Clip-clop of horse)

Rush hour.

I would have thought the roses
would have looked better on their own.

Mrs Poo has no idea.

But at least she's trying.

Haven't you got anything better to do
than spy on Mr DeVere all the time?

It's becoming a full-time job.
That's exactly what it is.

You're getting into such a state.
You should get away from the place for a bit.

The minute my back's turned,
DeVere will do something dreadful

like turning the orangery into an abattoir.

He's just waiting the chance.
You do exaggerate.

Well, he's waiting for something.

Probably for you to go over and make peace.

I'm quite prepared to make peace
provided he makes the first move.

What's stopping you making the first move?

Etiquette. It's up to the man
to make the advances, not the girl.

Except, of course, in a leap year.

It's not a leap year, is it?
Where's my five-year diary?

I don't know how they do things in Bratislava,
but in Rome, he should do as the English do.

No. Not leap year till next year. Pity.
By which time, he will have lost interest in you.

I am not an "interest", Marjory.

You make me sound like a stamp collection
or a brass-rubbing.

I'm an infatuation.
Oh, you could have fooled me.

He'll come running. You'll see.

Oh, look. This time last year, we were on
a plane, bound for our holiday in Alassio.

We went up on the flight deck.

Four pilots and not one of them
looking where we were going.

Why aren't you going this year?

I've got things to do here.

Look, Aud, if it's money...

It is not money.
(Phone rings)

Grantleigh Manor...Lodge.

Oh, hello, Mrs Poo.

Oh, how kind.

How exciting.

Oh, will you excuse me
while I check that date in my diary?

It's the go-between. The crafty devil
has got his mother to do his spade work.

Yes, Mrs Poo.
I do appear to be free that evening.

I look forward to it.

Thank you so much. Goodbye.

The first move has been made.
An invitation to the Manor.

Drinks on Saturday.
Oh, is he having a party?

A party? Oh, I don't think so.
I think it's just me.

Of course, Greece is a wonderful place.

Yes.
Yes.

Do you know, my dear, every tractor,
taxi and ox-cart is driven by Anthony Quinn.

If you ask me, DeVere's a bit of a rascal.
So I've heard.

Well, a man who sends his laundry to Paris
has got to be a bit of a dark horse, hasn't he?

Now, you must go into the Great Hall
and help yourselves to something to eat.

Yes, I insist. Please do.

Have you seen Audrey?
I'm not even looking for her.

Well, you should be.
What is the party for?

It was your idea to have a party
and it was your idea to invite so many guests.

So if I choose to ignore her,
I can always say I missed her in the crush.

Nobody could miss Audrey.

I bet she's going to make a late entrance,
fo impress us.

There. What did I tell you?
Now, go and be nice to her.

You go and be nice to her.

Mrs fforbes-Hamilton, how nice of you to come.

Now you must let me get you a drink.

What will you have?
A champagne cocktail or a Buck's Whizz?

A Buck's Whizz, I think, Mrs Poo.

Now, let me introduce you.

Have you met Mr and Mrs Plunkett?
Frequently.

Hello.
Hello, Audrey.

Hello.
Hello.

Just look at that.

It's enormous. So what?

No, the colour. I matched it up with a paint chart.
It's called Tuscan.

I'd call it Financial Times Pink.

Mind you, I don't consider myself
properly down there till I'm deep caramel.

So we're away next week, to finish it off.

(Chuckles) Just look at you, Audrey.
Whatever colour do you call that? Magnolia?

Whippet Beige? What have you been doing?
Sunbathing at night?

I haven't had a holiday this year. I can't aff...
I can't make up my mind where fo go.

Yes, well, you make sure the sun's there.
You're looking peaky.

I've been rather busy.
Oh, yes, the move. Of course.

Still, it's nice to see you
on the party circuit again.

Here we are.
Buck's Whizz. Thank you, Mrs Poo.

Now you must go and talk to Bedrich.

But don't let him bore you with that story about
lunching with Princess Margaret last week.

He appears to be fully occupied at the moment.

They say he has fingers in many pies.
Of course, there are pies and there are pies.

And fingers.
I wouldn't have said that.

Well, I couldn't do without my feathered friends.

No, I'm sure you couldn't.

I'm particularly fond of badgers.

Did you know there was a badger sett
in the woods at the back of the Old Lodge?

You shouldn't be telling me these things.
Why not?

It seems I have a reputation round here.

I might turn your badgers into shaving brushes
and sell them in my stores.

Who would say a thing like that?

Always get your duty-free on the way out.

I mean, where can you get
a decent Benedictine in France, eh?

According to Audrey...
Oh, what ho, Audrey? Jolly good.

Morocco is awfully hot, you know.

No, the windows stick and the stamps don't.

(Chuckles)
Where did you go this year, Audrey?

What for?
Holiday, of course.

Must have been wretched weather.
You're white as a first-aid tent.

We had solid sun the whole fortnight.

You could do with a spot of sun.

Should have come with us.
Desert Rats' reunion.

Was Mr DeVere there?

He wasn't a Desert Rat, was he?
I wasn't thinking of the "Desert" bit.

You'll soon know the difference.

You see, the chaffinch goes... (Whistles)

..and the bullfinch goes... (A similar whistle)

Yes, I see.

If you want to know anything about wildlife,
I'm your man.

I'm taking next week off,
so maybe I'll do some fieldwork myself.

(Whistles) Fascinating.

Done the place up really well, hasn't he?
Not before time.

One could see the place was going fo...
Oh, I'm sorry.

Of course, he can afford it with all his...
shall we say "business" interests.

You mean he's in something a bit shady?

All mean is that he doesn't have to depend on
Milk Marketing Board subsidies

like Marton and I had to.

Audrey!
Hello, Marjory.

You really are looking peaky.
You must go on that holiday.

We've all had ours
and Mr DeVere's going on his next week.

Is he just?
Mm. So that only leaves you.

If anyone else tells me I look peaky
and need a holiday, I shall scream.

Bedrich, do as your mother tells you.

Oh, very well.

Hello, Audrey.
Hello, Mr DeVere.

You're looking terribly peaky.

You ought to take a holiday.

I intend to. Will you excuse me?
Thank you for the party. It's been really...

You're not off already, are you?
Alas, yes. I have to finish my packing.

Goodbye, Mr DeVere.
But...

Stuff comes out of his ears, I tell you.

Could be bullion smuggling, drugs,
white slave trade anything.

Awful lot of it about.

I thought you said
you couldn't afford to go away.

The bank manager can pay.

You know, Aud,
you shouldn't have left the party so early.

And you shouldn't have spread
those unkind things about Mr DeVere.

Kaolin, Kwells, Sylvasun, Diocom.

By the end, everyone was taking him
to be a drug smuggler at the very least.

You know how tongues wag.

I never said anything like that.

AllI said was that he is not a dependent
of the Milk Marketing Board.

Are you ready, madam?
Yes, thank you, Brabinger.

You can put the cases in the car.

And I can do without your lectures.

Why not go to the Manor
and do some bird watching?

Find out how cuckoos live.
Cuckoos?

It is cuckoos that take over other birds' nests,
isn't it?

Passport. Traveller's cheques.
There. I think I'm ready.

But why the sudden decision to go?

DeVere is away as well, so it's safe for me
to leave the estate on its own for a week.

When I come back, I shall give a party.

Oh, are those the invitations?

Yes. You'd better take yours now.
I can't possibly afford to post them.

Brabinger will have to deliver the rest
in the Rolls.

You're not going to say where you're going?
No.

You did say something about Bognor
the other day.

Would I pack Kaolin for Bognor?

Well, anyway,
not the passport and the Sylvasun.

Oh, come on, Aud, give us a clue.

I'm not going up the Hindu Kush
and it isn't a fruit-picking holiday.

More than that, I'm not saying.

Even to me?
Especially to you.

I told you in confidence that I could
scarcely afford to put petrol in my Rolls.

The next thing I hear
is that I've been seen on a bicycle.

You know how tongues wag.

Airline ticket. Yes. Well, off we go.

Come along, Bertie.

Well, bye-bye, Marjory.
Bye.

Have a good time wherever it is.
I will.

Brabinger, we're going to the airport.
Very good, madam.

I understood
you were to be on holiday this week.

I am. I decided to spend it here.

What could be pleasanter?
Or more peaceful.

(Birdsong)
Oh, do you hear that?

That's a bull-chaffinch
doing an impersonation of Miss Frobisher.

Hello. Isn't that Audrey's Rolls?

That's odd. She never lets Brabinger drive.

Hmm, one can see why.

He's probably dropped her at the airport.
She's going on holiday today, I believe.

That would account for the peace and quiet.

We must all enjoy it while we can.

Quick, Brabinger. Draw the curtains.
But it's only half past two...

Don't argue, Brabinger.

I expect you're curious
as to why it was necessary

to pack two suitcases
for a drive round the countryside.

I was wondering, madam.

I went on holiday, Brabinger.

Thank goodness I remembered to take a Kwell.
Your driving has not improved.

Now, I shall be spending my holiday here

and sunning myself on the sun-kissed beaches
of Spain.

Oh, I see.

You'll be here...and you'll be in Spain?
Exactly.

The important thing is, that although I am here,
I must not be seen to be here.

May I ask why?
Because I'm in Spain.

Ah. Very good, madam.

Will you be back in time for your party, madam?

Of course. The whole point about a holiday
is not that one should take one,

but that one should be seen
to have taken one.

Now, be an angel and pop up to the attic
and bring down the master's old sun-ray lamp.

Yes.
And the travel box.

That old trunk
we used to throw the holiday souvenirs in.

Yes, madam.
And phone up the airport.

Find the numbers and times
of today's flights to Spain.

Yes, madam.
Ooh.

Have a scout round for that Spanish language
record we used to have.

Yes, madam.

Will that be all, madam?
Yes, we don't want to run you off your feet.

You're supposed to be on holiday as well,
remember.

Oh, Brabinger, I shall want the sun lounger
from the terrace.

Oh, don't bother. I'l get it.

The Lord moves in a mysterious way.

(Man on record speaks Spanish)

(She attempts to repeat man)

(Man repeats phrase)

I just said that, you silly man.

Oh, Brabinger, switch this wretched man off.

I am bored with him and his universal joint.

Oh, blow. There's always something.
I've left my sunglasses at home.

It's all right, madam.
I came across them just as you were leaving.

Oh, thank you, Brabinger.

What would I do without you?

Brabinger, what on earth
are you doing in those clothes?

I understood you were on holiday, madam.

So I am, but that 's no reason
for you to go around looking like a Chindit.

It's well known on the estate
that when you're on holiday,

I adopt informal dress.

Now, if I've been wearing my working clothes,
it will arouse suspicion.

You did say it was to be done properly
or not at all.

Of course, Brabinger.
Now, did you find out about my flight?

Yes. On the day in question,

there was a DC-10 Dan-Air flight,
number 74632 to Malaga.

Two stand-by seats available.

Did they say anything else about the flight?
Yes, madam. They said you missed it.

May I enquire exactly where you are, madam?

People are beginning fo ask.

I am in Malaga, staying at the Hotel Balmoral.
Rather suitable, I thought.

I am lying on a sun-drenched beach,
looking at a glittering sea,

luxuriating in the eternal spring
ordained by the ancient gods.

In a moment, I shall be on my way up for lunch
of paella and churros,

washed down with a glass of Rioja.

Well, it reminds me, madam. Your coffee.

Thank you.

Espresso, por favor, camarero.

Espresso?
Yes, all bubbly and frothy.

Like they have it in Spain.

SI, sefiora.

Olé.

Isn't it a lovely evening?

Yes, super.

Of course, you know I have an ulterior motive.

For what?
Trying fo get to know you beter.

This week, particularly.

Oh, you mean with Audrey being away?
Exactly.

Oh, gosh.

You could do something for me.

Yes?

May I take you into my confidence?
Of course.

Well, I've been hearing certain stories about me
which are gaining currency round here.

Really? What stories?

That I'm some kind of gangster.

That I've made my money
by putting my hands in the fill.

And that I'm wanted for questioning...

by the Fraud Squad.

You don't believe that, do you?
Of course not.

Thank you.

I think i's Audrey
who's been spreading the rumours.

Do you have any influence with her?

Oh, yes. We went to school together.

Well, I'd be very grateful if you'd persuade her
fo be a little more discreet.

Don't say I said anything, of course.
I'm the soul of discretion.

Fine.

Well, shall we go?
Where?

To the woods. Back of the Old Lodge.

Oh...yes, of course.

Come on, then.

I feel as if I've been here for days and days.

Five days, madam.

I must say, this isn't my idea of a holiday.

I'm bored stiff.

Do you realise, Brabinger, up {ill last year,

I spent every summer holiday
baking on some beach,

eating wonderful meals,
going to lovely parties.

Like to know what we were doing last year?
Yes, madam.

Just coming to the end
of our holiday in Alassio and...

Oh. I was bored stiff.

"Spent the evening exchanging addresses
with people I hope I'll never meet again.

Went to bed."

Can't you think of some intelligent game
we can play?

Well, we could have a rehearsal
of your holiday story, madam.

I'm bored with that, too.
But you're not word perfect yet,

and your party is tomorrow night.

My God, it can't be!
I'm not nearly brown enough.

Shh. Voices outside.

Look, aren't we a bit near to Audrey's house?

Oh, don't worry.

She doesn't own everything
round here any more.

No, but she owns this bit
and we're trespassing.

Oh, who cares? Anyway, she's away.

And Brabinger won't notice.

Come on.

I thought Mr DeVere was on holiday.

I understand he's holidaying here, madam.
Quite the fashion, this year.

You knew that and you didn't tell me?

Well, I didn't want to upset your holiday, madam.

That's one thing, but what's he going
down into the woods with Marjory for?

That's the other thing.

What other thing?
The other thing I didn't tell you.

They've been going down to the woods
every night this week

and coming out after about half an hour...

Goon.

..brushing grass off themselves.

Mr DeVere and Miss Frobisher?
Yes, madam.

It's unthinkable.

I knew she was setting her cap at him, but...
I'm going down to break it up.

But, madam, you're in Spain.

If you appear,
they'll know you haven't been away.

True. I'll have to leave it till tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Look, I'm hardly brown at all.

Where's the emergency stuff?
Emergency stuff?

The stuff you don't need sun for. Here it is.

A layer of this and I shall give Arnold Plunkett
a run for his money.

Will you do my back?

Me, madam?
If it upsets you, think of England.

Oh.
I'm awfully sorry.

I do hope you weren't too disappointed.

Yes, better luck next time.

Yes, perhaps we could try again tomorrow.

Well...
Well, I'd better be getting off home.

Goodnight, Richard.
Oh. Goodnight, Marjory.

(Spanish guitar music)

An American lady at the Balmoral, in Malaga,
called over the camarero that's the waiter -

to ask about meal times,
and the camarero the waiter -

said, "Breakfast is served from seven till ten.

El almuerzo® luncheon "from 12 fill 2:30.

Dinner from seven till la medianoche.”
That's midnight.

And the sefiora the lady -

said, "Good heavens,
that doesn't leave much time for sightseeing!"

(Laughter)
I really must circulate. Forgive me.

Audrey!
Oh, hello, Marjory.

Had a good time?
Yes. Lovely. I'm a new woman.

I gather the same can be said of you.

Audrey, you're certainly looking better.
Thank you.

Where have you been?
Malaga.

Ohl So did we.

We stayed at the Hotel Balmoral.

Where were you?
At the Hotel Flamingo.

Oh.
I thought you said you were at the Balmoral.

Just for the occasional meal, that's all.
Excuse me. I must circulate.

Hello. You're looking much beter.

Wonderful tan.
Thank you, Mr DeVere.

Where did you get it?
Malaga.

Marvellous in only a week.

Ah, now, we've been hearing things about you,
Brabinger.

And at your age, too, you old rogue, eh?

You know what they say many a good tune...
(Laughter)

What is going on over there?
Haven't you heard?

It seems that while you were away,
Brabinger had a woman in the house.

Can this be true, Brabinger?

In my absence,
you've been entertaining a lady in my house?

I'm sure it was all perfectly innocent, Brabinger.
Your...sister, perhaps?

(Mutters) Niece.
Great niece.

My...sister's daughter's child.

Yes, her granddaughter.
Yes.

You did mention something about her,
Brabinger. How is she?

Oh, as beautiful as ever, madam.
Yes, I agree.

Oh, thank...

Erm...try some more
of this duty-free Spanish wine.

It travels very well.
Yes, I know.

I ship it in bulk and bottle it in Taunton.

I think we should have a word on the terrace.

Well? How much do you know?

Only that, like me, you spent your holidays
on the Costa del Grantleigh.

If this gets out,
I shall be the laughing stock of the county.

(Chuckles) Yes, you will.

What do I have to do to make you keep quiet?

Keep quiet about a few things yourself.
Stories about me, for instance.

AllI ever said about you was that you didn't
have to depend on the Milk Marketing Board.

That's nothing to the things I could say.
Such as?

Your littie moonlight trysts
with Marjory Frobisher.

If that got out, it really would cause a scandal.

Coming out of the woods, night after night,
brushing yourself down.

Tongues really would wag.

Would you like to know
what we were doing in the woods?

Certainly not.

What?
Come on. I'll show you.

l insist I return to my guests.

Help!
Quiet.

But somebody might see us.

Shh.

Badgers! Is that all?
That's all!

You know how tongues wag.