To the Manor Born (1979–2007): Season 2, Episode 1 - The New Farm Manager - full transcript

First, the parish notices
about our Christmas activities.

This week, as you know,

we had the Christmas collection
for old people of the parish,

which raised the sum of £400 -

a record amount, due largely
fo a substantial contribution

donated by our lord of the manor,
Mr DeVere.

Our thanks are due to him.

And then, last night,
we had the estate staff party.

And I gather a good time was had by all.

Our thanks must go to all those
who worked so hard to make it a success.

Especially to our lord, Mr DeVere.



(Mouths)

Now, tomorrow, being Christmas Eve,

we shall be making the church ready
for our candlelight procession

and blessing of the crib
at the midnight service.

And in the afternoon,
the women will be decorating the church.

And I gather we can expect
an even better display than usual...

owing to another generous donation
from Mr DeVere...

our lord and er... lord of the manor.

"And may the words of my mouth
and the meditations of all our hearts

be acceptable in thy sight,
O Lord, our strength and our redeemer."

My text today comes...

Well, the words of his mouth were
certainly not acceptable in my sight.

It was rather a good sermon, I thought.

The sermon was a lovely length.
But all that stuff about Mr DeVere.



It's "Mr DeVere" this
and "our lord of the manor" that.

Well, something is rotten
in the state of Denmark.

I thought he came from Czechoslovakia.

The point is, the rector didn't utter
one word about all my hard work.

This year I was just "the women".

"The women will decorate the church."
Not even "the ladies".

You are going to do it, aren't you?
Yes.

Well, me and the women.

Though I've a jolly good mind not to.
Nor do all the other things.

What other things?
The church crib, for a start.

Have you got the crib here?
I assume so.

It must have come over
from the manor.

Ned's getting it from the attic.
Ned?

Yes. Brabinger's gone off to spend
Christmas with his granddaughter,

so Ned's lending a hand.

Oh.

Ned, what on earth are you doing?

I was preparing a little surprise
for you, Mrs Forbes.

In the dark?
Oh, they look beter in the dark.

What do?
Fairy lights. Look.

Oh, Ned, that's lovely! Isn't it, Aud?

It certainly cheers the place up a bit.
Thank you, Ned.

Oh, there's more.

Remember how the lights on
the big tree at the manor used to blink?

Yes. But we can't have everything.

We can, ma'am.
I've made a little transformer

with a circuit-breaker
that makes the lights go on and off

every three seconds. Watch.

Is this wise, Ned?

I'm a little wary
of your electrical expertise.

Oh, it's quite safe, Mrs Forbes.

(Fizing)

Well?
Well what?

I thought you said they came on again.

There seems to be
a little failure somewhere.

I think we'd better forget about
your Belisha beacon, Ned.

Oh, it won't take a moment to repair.

I don't want to risk it.
In fact, I forbid you

to go messing about
with electricity ever again.

If you say so, Mrs Forbes.

Ned, I thought
you'd mended the bird table.

I did.

Then how did it get like that?

Oh, I can't think.

There was a robin on it this morning.

A robin? You're sure it wasn't an eagle?

What was the robin doing?
Fighting off one of the farm cats.

I see. Oh, by the way,
where did you put the crib?

The crib.
Yes.

Oh, I couldn't find it.
I searched the whole house.

Oh, that means he's got it.
Fine. Then he'll be doing the crib.

He won't. I'm not having him
taking over my one remaining duty.

And he doesn't know where it is.

Perhaps he's already found it.
No chance of that.

If it's still at the manor,
I know where it is. He'll never find it.

One headless shepherd.
One three-legged donkey.

One wingless archangel.

One camel minus hump.

One hump minus camel.

One wise man bearing gift.

Donkey's leg, by the look of it.

Mother, where did you find this?
In the butler's pantry.

Eurgh!
What?

One dead mouse.

Oh.

Well, at least it's got all its bits.

Rector, I'm afraid we can't use that.

Well, as I say, the crib
has always been provided by the manor.

(Sighs)

Oh. Would you like another sherry?

Oh, "Wine is a mocker,
strong drink is raging." Proverbs 20.

Oh.

Yes, please.

Well, I'm sure it's not
beyond your powers to er...patch it up.

Ohl

Would you like another one?
No, thank you. Three's my limit.

You've had four.
Oh dear, I'd better be going.

You wouldn't be going past the Lodge,
by any chance?

It's on my way.

Perhaps I could ask you
to drop this in on your friend and mine.

Certainly.

Yes, I'll see myself out.

Bye-bye.
Bye-bye.

Oh, yes. (Chuckles) Good morning.

Good morning.

And thank you for your custom.

Well, you heard what he said.

We'd better
start getting this thing patched up.

I'm not one of the world's patchers.

But we must have a crib
by tomorrow afternoon.

Have it we shall.
I have influence in high places.

But not that high.

Just leave it to me.

So why don't I just pop over
to the manor

and ask if I can go and find the crib?

You'll do no such thing.

If he thinks he's sitting on something
I want, he'll make an issue out of it.

No. We'll just have to find
another crib.

How? It's Christmas Eve tomorrow.

Yes, it is. Right, then,
welll just have to make one.

Make one?
We can if we all pull together.

Ned can make the stable,
you can make the animals.

What are you going to make?
The mother and child.

Well, can you?
Of course.

I'm very clever with my hands.

I was the Rodin of the Lower Remove.

I don't think I can make the animals.

Of course you can. You made some
lovely animals for that WI competition.

Oh, yes. When we had to make an animal
out of a vegetable.

I seem fo remember I won
with a giraffe made out of carrots.

It was judged to be
far and away the best.

Yes. And you were the judge.

Well, how do you think your frogs,
made out of marrow, came second?

Oh.

Frogs aren't right for this.

There's nothing in the Bible
about shepherds in their fields

keeping watch over their frogs by night.

Oh, Ned. We're going to make
a Christmas crib.

Do you think you could make a stable?

A stable? Well, I was always
good at making model aeroplanes.

No, just a stable. Not a Sopwith Camel.

What shall I make it out of?
Anything you can find.

Adopt. Adapt. Improve.

Huh.

What's that?

Oh. This letter just came for you.
Delivered by the rector.

They're just not fussy who they get
to do the Christmas post these days.

Oh! It's a Christmas card from our lord.

Who?
Mr DeVere.

Though what an artist's impression
of his new Brent Cross retail outlet

has to do with Christmas,
I cannot think.

Oh, there's a note attached.
Oh yes?

"My mother and I would be so pleased

if you could spend Xmas Day with us
at the manor."

"Xmas." Makes it sound
like a skin complaint.

Um...Ned, will you do something for me?

Telephone the manor,
present my compliments to Mr DeVere

and tell him I am unable to accept
his kind invitation for Christmas Day.

Why not?
No reason.

Are you sure you don't want to go?

How do you think I'd feel
up at the manor?

It was only last year
that the whole family were there.

One of the best Christmases ever.
I know. I was there.

Oh, so you were.

Do you remember playing Sardines
all over the house after lunch

and coming in exhausted
from the Boxing Day hunt

and watching Basil Brush?

Pulling crackers
and Martin haranguing us

about the state of British industry.

Oh, yes! Just because his Chinese puzzle
was made in Hong Kong.

No, I couldn't possibly
go to the manor this year.

Anyway, I've got a previous engagement.

A previous engagement?
With you.

You always spend Christmas Day
with me.

Ah. Well, times change.
I can't manage it this year.

Why not?
A previous engagement.

Marjory, you never have
a previous engagement.

Well, I have this year.
Where?

Up at the manor, if you must know,
with Mr DeVere.

You are spending Christmas Day
with Mr DeVere?

Yes.
Why?

He asked me.
That's no reason to accept.

Just because you won't
spend the day with Richard...

Oh, it's "Richard" now, is it?

You know he likes us
to use his Christian name.

Christian name. Huh!
The nearest he gets to Christian

is stirring his coffee
with an apostle spoon.

I wish you'd be
more complimentary about him.

It is Christmas
and he is doing his stuff.

Only to salve his conscience over making
a fortune out of his supermarkets.

Christmas to him is just an excuse
to persuade a lot of people

to buy a lot of things
they can't afford,

which people they don't like
don't want and...don't like.

I think you're being beastly
about poor Richard.

If you spend Christmas alone,
you've only got yourself to blame.

Possibly.

Still, one did think
that one's best friend

would support one.
Especially at Christmas.

It's no use
trying to make me feel guilty.

I wouldn't dream of it.

I suppose it'll be on Christmas Day

that the full implication of
my new situation will come home to me.

Spending it all alone,
as I shall have to.

You're making me feel dreadful.
No, no. Don't feel sorry for me.

IfI can get through this
first Christmas without undue trauma,

it'll be a feat of moral courage

that will keep me going
for the rest of the year.

-l...
I shall just resign myself

to spending a very boring Christmas
here, all alone.

I suppose one shouldn't desert
one's friends, especially at Christmas.

I don't want you
making sacrifices for me.

I'll come to you for Christmas.
Oh, good. That's settled, then.

We'll come straight back here
after matins.

Run along home and come back in
the morning with your and asses.

Made out of vegetables.
No. We'll need them for lunch.

(Banging)

Oh, blast.
Ned, do you have to make so much noise?

Nearly finished, ma'am.

Oh, well. Joseph will have to be bald.

Now...what do you think of those?
The holy family.

Oh, very nice, Mrs Forbes.

There, ma'am. The stable.
Oh, excellent.

Who said we couldn't knock up a crib
if we put our minds to it?

Let's put the figures in,
see how they look.

Oh, dear. You've made the figures
too big, Mrs... too big, Mrs Forbes.

You mean
you've made the stable too small.

Well, of course, ma'am, yes.
But you didn't say any size.

I left that to your intelligence.

There was a risk but how was I to know

you were going to make
something the size of a bird...table?

Ned.

Ned.

"Adopt. Adapt. Improve."
That's what you said, Mrs Forbes.

Yes. But I said nothing about "destroy".

It's too small.
You'll have to make a larger one.

And if Bertie's kennel is missing
in the morning, there'll be trouble.

Coo-eel
Oh, in the studio, Marjory.

Oh, morning, Miss Frobisher.
Hello, Ned.

Oh, Audrey, aren't those lovely?
Oh, thank you, Marjory.

But haven't you made them
a bit too small?

Too small?

Well, surely. I mean, look.

You said nothing about size.
Well, I have now. My size.

Well, perhaps mine
should go outside the stable.

Oh, no, that'll look silly.

Besides, that donkey just isn't right.

They were supposed to have come
all the way from Nazareth on it.

That wouldn't have got further
than the end of the drive.

Oh, look. "The women" are at it already.

Afternoon, Mrs Beecham. Hello, Lily.
Sorry I'm late.

I'll supervise the flowers
when we've set up the crib.

It's awfully dark.
Ned, switch the lights on.

Yes, Mrs Forbes.

No. The chancel.

No. That's the organ.

That's it.

That was it. You see,
he can't even manage a simple switch.

That's right, Ned.
Now don't you touch another thing.

All right, over here.

What on earth...?

Marjory, look at that.
Oh, it's divine!

It is anything but divine.
It is common and vulgar and...new.

Ned, help me remove this monstrosity.
Yes, Mrs Forbes.

Oh, good. It's arrived.

Is this your work?
Yes. Rather snazzy, isn't it?

Frightfully.
I might have guessed.

The rector said the crib
is provided by the manor.

Not by the manor. By me.

It has been provided by me
since I can remember.

And before that, by the family,
since we...

Yes, since the year 2,000BC.

Don't be ridiculous.
They didn't have cribs in the year 2,000BC.

The point is that, by tradition,
I do the crib every year.

And at a cost of considerable time
and effort, a crib I have done.

(Laughs)

Oh, I think we've done
better than that, don't you?

Just wait until you've seen this one
in its full glory. Now watch this.

(Jingle Bells plays)

Now ['ll speed it up
$0 you can see the complete cycle.

(Music gets faster)

(Winds down)

At the right speed,
it does that once every 15 minutes.

Very ingenious, if I may say so, sir.

No, you may not say so.

He's right. People in Oxford Street
sit for hours watching that.

In Oxford Street?
Yes.

It was in one of my shop windows.

When I heard I was expected
to provide a crib...

A crib, yes. Not a planetarium.

I suppose it has nodding donkeys
with eyes that light up every 15 minutes.

There's a guiding star somewhere.
Of course there is.

Oh, it ought to twinkle.

This is supposed to be Bethlehem.

You're making it look like
Tokyo High Street.

They forgot the circuit-breaker.

Why not go the whole hog and have a
neon sign saying, "DeVere's Pork Pies"?

There's no circuit-breaker
to make the star twinkle.

Oh, er...I've got one of those, sir.

I couldn't borrow it, could I?
Of course, sir. I'll go and fetch it.

Oh, thank you, Ned.

In no time at all, we'll have
that little star twinkling fit to bust.

It's absolutely super.
I knew you'd all like it eventually.

(Bleeping)
What's that funny noise?

I'm wanted on the phone.

There isn't a telephone in there,
as well, is there?

(Bottles clink)

What have you got there?
A crate of sherry.

Just in case the rector calls round.

The crib's arrived, by the way.
What does it look like?

Very ritzy. I wouldn't mind
a weekend there myself.

(Laughs) Ah...

We have come a long way together,
Bedrich.

You are too young to remember

but did I ever tell you
of that Christmas we had together

all those years ago,
just after your father died?

Often.

We were so poor, we only had a stick
of brushwood for a Christmas tree.

And we couldn't afford decorations.

You and I spent hours...
Hours.

..cutting up orange peel
and pictures from magazines

and old bits of silver paper.

And for Christmas dinner we had...
We had carrot stew.

Ohl

But, you know, in spite of that,

looking back on it

and thinking of all the Christmases
we had before and since...

I think that that one...

was the most miserable of the lot.
What?

Mind you, if anybody
had come to the door

and offered us shop-bought stuff,

we would have told them where to go.

Oh, my God, I've done it again!

What's wrong?
Audrey. What have I done to her?

I dread to think, since she won't
even come for Christmas Day.

She couldn't find a crib
so she made one.

What out of?

Orange peel and silver paper,
by the look of it.

A decoration.

And I've trumped it
with a new one from the store.

Just think how we would have felt.
Hopping mad.

Just how Audrey's feeling now.

Where are you going?
To the church.

I'm going to remove my crib.

Marjory.
Yes?

You know it's the thought that counts?

Yes. You said that
about my present to you last year.

Did I? Well, I think
we should regard this as a thought.

It's Richard's Christmas present
to the parish.

We should have been more gracious.
"We"? Have you changed your mind?

No. As a crib, it's still horrid.

But as a thought,
it is kind and acceptable.

What shall we do with ours?
Get it out of sight.

Audrey, could I have a word?

You really mustn't let Ned...
Never mind about Ned.

I've come to take my crib away.
I think yours is so much better.

Oh, how can you say that?

There's no comparison.
I mean, you've got to admit

that mine lacks a certain je ne sais quoi.
That's French, by the way.

On the contrary, I think yours
has much more "quoi" than mine.

Anyway, mine's going.
Nol I insist. Mine is.

Now, now, Now, Now, Now.
What's all this about?

Nothing, Rector.
It's just that we seem to have two cribs

and I think we ought to have
Mrs fforbes-Hamilton's.

And I insist that we have Mr DeVere's.

I see. Well, then, perhaps
I'd better be the judge.

Oh. Very well.

Ahh. (Chuckles) Yes.

Ah.

But...when you think of the amount
of work that has gone into it,

this is much more in keeping
with the spirit of Christmas.

Indeed.

Well...my impartial judgement is

that I find myself taking
Mrs forbes-Hamilton's part in this dispute.

I quite agree with you.
It should be Mr DeVere's crib.

But...
So be it. Come along, Marjory.

(Organ plays)

Happy Christmas, Richard.
And fo you, Audrey.

4 O Come, All Ye Faithful

Are you going so soon?
I's the blessing of the crib.

I'm very sorry about your crib.

Oh, I haven't given it another thought.

I think I've got everything
fixed up all right now.

Let us pray.

Almighty God, who, as on this night,

did cause his only begotten son
to come down from heaven and be born,

vouchsafe, we beseech thee,
so fo bless and hallow this crib,

wherein are shown
the wonders of that sacred birth.

Amen.

ALL: Amen.

J Jingle Bells

(Music slows, stops)

(Music speeds up)

(Slows down)

J National Anthem

Isn't she wonderful?

To think she had to learn
all that by heart.

Right, now, formalities over.

It's abook and a film
and it's five... no, six words.

Marjory, are you quite well?

Well, if it wasn't for the hunchback...
Oops!

Oh, I've given it away.

What on earth are you doing?
Charades.

It's time for party games now.

You can't have party games
without a party.

Oh, come on, Aud. We always used to have
party games after Christmas dinner.

At the manor it was Sardines.
That's what I'll miss most this Christmas.

We could play Sardines if you like.
In a house this size?

At the manor, squeezing oneself
into a poky hidey-hole was a game.

Here, it's a permanent state of affairs.

Well, we must do something.
You've been a misery-guts all day.

Why not have a drink?
Drown your sorrows.

I would if there were any drink
in the house.

If hadn't been so stupid
we could have been up at the manor.

I bet they're having a wonderful time.

Mother.
-Mm?

Oughin't we to be doing something?

It is getting dark. Draw the curtains.

Well, what about the other ones?

We've got to leave something
to look forward to this evening.

Aud, if you don't want to play Charades,
what about Blind Man's Buff?

With two of us?

I'm only trying to cheer you up.

If hadn't been so pig-headed we could
be at the manor, playing Sardines.

Yes, it used to be rather intimate,
squashed together in our hidey-hole.

Yes. I remember I hid in
the old butler's silver-safe one year.

Martin was the first to find me.
It quite revived our marriage.

Till I realised who it was.

You should have gone to the manor.
You really should.

I know I should.
Still, if you didn't want to.

Of course I did. For obvious reasons.

But no. I had to insist on
spending my first Christmas alone.

Just to prove I'm not the sort of person
that cracks up easily.

It's not true.

So much for my brave face.

(Fizing)

Ohl

Good old Ned. They do flash off and on.
Every two days.

Visitors, Mrs Forbes.

Visitors? Who?

Mr DeVere and Mrs Pol...er...

His mother.
Well, show them in.

Will you come this way, please?

Hello, Audrey. Marjory.

Happy Christmas.
Happy Christmas, Richard. Mrs Poo.

Happy Christmas. And to you.
Happy Christmas, one and all.

Especially one.
Down, Marjory.

Well, come and sit down.

Oh, thank you!
Thank you.

What brings you here?
We were bored.

So we thought we'd join your party.
You seem fo be having a wonderful time.

We are, aren't we, Marjory?

Aren't we, Marjory?
What? Oh. Yes, we are now.

Well, drinks, anybody?

Yes, I'd love one. Oh. Sorry.

Thank you, sir.

This is going to be fun.
You've joined us just in time for Sardines.

Oh, no, thank you.
I couldn't eat another thing.

It's a game.
One of your old English games?

Right. I'l be It.
And I bet you never find me.

In the broom cupboard under the stairs.

Wait a minute.

I don't think I understand this game.

Oh, splendid.
I'l have to explain it to you.

You come with me.
You two, close your eyes and start counting.

To 1,000.