Waiting for God (1990–1994): Season 2, Episode 3 - Daisy Takes Charge - full transcript

There. That should keep the mad Huns
and the yellow hordes at bay,

not to mention daft old goats called Tom.

Harvey says that wall has got to go, Diana.

If you do not take it down
voluntarily, he will, er...

What? Come and huff and puff
and blow my wall down?

..invoke "the structural alterations
to premises

"without prior consultation

"with the management, the board
and the planning committee" clause

in your contract of residency.

Well, you just tell little Harvey

that if just one millimetres
of his smallest toenail



comes across my doorstep,

he will be the happy recipient of
a ten megaton exploding suppository.

— Goodbye.
— Diana, please...

That wall stays until Tom apologises

for asking me to shack up with him
in order to save money. Did you tell him?

I tried, but he said you were being
more bloody—minded than usual.

He said you were like a mad snake,

eating itself from the tail upwards.

I can't see how that would work myself.

Then Daisy Williams came along
and dragged him off.

What's that little Dresden Hitler up to?

Well, she's got Harvey round her little finger.

Tom too.

— No one could come between you and Tom.
— What?



You needn't be jealous of her, Diana.

jealous? Me? I'm not jealous.
I have never been jealous.

I would never tolerate an emotion

based on the wayward and fickle affections
of a mere man.

I don't believe you, Diana.

Naughty naughty! Fibby fibby!

Bogeyman'll get your tongue!

Beam her up, Scottie.

You can't fool me, Diana. I am also a woman.

— Really?
— Diana.

Listen, Jane, just because
you cull your entire emotional life

from the drifting candyfloss guff
off the latest Mills & Boon,

does not mean that everyone does.

I happen to be a self—contained unit.

I do not need a man about the place,

particularly not
a bumbling old golf bag like Tom.

I don't think you're listening to your heart,
Diana.

Go away.

That wall stays until Tom
sees the error of his ways.

Yes, Diana.

Oh...

Could you again sort out
the stallholders for this year's fete?

Why not? Last year we only lost £200.

This year, we could bankrupt the place.

— That's right. Put it down there.
— just a minute... Ow!

Oh, you really are very clumsy, Jane.

Do straighten up, Jane.

— This is a jolly good idea, Daisy.
— Well, of course it is.

I've run a few messes in my time

and my motto was always,
"Muck in and tuck in, all chaps together."

None of this individual table nonsense.

The team that eats together
wins together. Isn't that so, Tom?

What do they win?

— Wars, of course.
— Oh.

And I want to make you
my second—in—command.

Oh, really? What would my rank be?

Well, I wouldn't dream of working
with anyone below a full colonel.

Colonel, eh? Colonel Tom.
Yes, that's sounds very right.

Colonel Tom. Ready to go over the top, sir.

He's been over the top for years.

Now, everyone will have to sit together.

That's Diana's table. I'm not sure
it'll meet with everyone's approval.

Of course it will, Tom. It's just what we've
needed round here. A bit of uniformity.

Strict mealtimes, only one menu.
Save a fortune in food and overtime.

— Oh!
— For goodness' sake, Jane!

— Sorry, Harvey.
— Come along, Colonel Tom.

We have lots to do. What we need
is more recreation — organised.

I want you to rustle up a few medicine balls.

— Medicine balls?
— I don't know what Diana will say.

There's gonna be blood all over the walls.

— Oh!
— What do you want?

I don't want anything. I was just saying, um...

— I can't remember.
— You want to apologise.

Do I? What for?

For being rude to me.

You mean asking you
to share your life with me?

It wasn't your life you were asking to share,
it was your rent.

You asked me to "shack up" with you,

as if I was some sort of
itinerant teenage slattern.

— It was just an expression.
— It was an attitude, Tom.

You have so little regard for my feelings or me

that you thought you could toss me
some sort of mouldy old bone

and I'd think it was bloody Christmas!

Well, what do you want? Marriage?

Oh, God...

I used to be an accountant.

Economy comes as naturally to me
as being a vicious old prune comes to you.

I didn't know
you were going to have a fit about it.

Jane Russell and Brigitte Bardot
shared costs.

It wasn't all hot passion, you know.

At the end of the day,
we still had to tot up our chitties.

Maybe I'll get someone else
to share with me.

There must be somebody around here
with a bit of common sense.

So that's the program, chaps.

More togetherness,
more planning, more organisation,

so that we can all rattle along
as one big happy family.

Any questions, ideas?

— Daisy...
— Not now, Basil. jolly good.

So that's agreed. Now...

We shall need a coordinator of activities.

Any nominations? Tom?

Oh. I nominate you. Is that right?

Oh, what a surprise.

And I second that, so that's agreed.
I'm in charge.

And I elect Tom as my ADC.

Right. Now. We can all tuck in.

Well, come along.

From what we are about to receive,
may we all duly recover.

— Oh—oh. Here it comes.
— What's this? A Bar Mitzvah?

Where's my table?

Oh. Um... It's there,
in the middle, under the cloth.

Jane?

I think I hear the phone.

jenny, get my table out from under there
and put it in its usual place, please.

— Hello, Miss Trent.
— Go on, jenny. Get it out.

I'm afraid the tables stay where they are.

— I beg your pardon?
— It's all part of the new order, my dear.

We are all agreed that it is much
more conducive to good morale

if we all sit together
and talk together at mealtimes.

And do we all sing the Horst Wessel
song before pudding?

That is the sort of remark one
might expect from a Communist.

Ha!

To m?

I don't believe we are talking
to each other, Diana.

I see. And you are all
in agreement with this, are you?

— Er...
— Basil!

Unanimous. Now do sit down, Miss Trent.

When I want to break bread
with a bunch of headless chickens

and a goose—stepping turkey, I'll let you know.

Yes. Well, there is always one.

Never mind. She'll come round.

They always do
when they see that my way is best.

Besides, now that we're all united,
there isn't much choice.

— Is there, Tom?
— Er, no, no. I suppose not.

Right. Everybody ready?

— Harvey?
— Absolutely.

— Jane?
— Yes.

And Colonel Tom?

Right. Off we go.

What on earth is going on?

— Daisy Williams wants to make everyone fit.
— She'll kill 'em all.

That's probably what Harvey's counting on.

What's Tom doing?

Oh, he's a colonel now. Says he's
going to take Tobruk before teatime.

How does one go about resigning
from the human race?

(Daisy) Come on, Tom.

Come on!

Oh, bravo, Tom! Oh! (Laughs)

I see.

Ah. "The cup that cheers but not inebriates."

The sweet goo that kept
the empire stuck together.

— Who said that?
— I did, just now.

Oh.

I suppose you put that up
to keep out that dreadful Trent woman.

— Oh, she's all right.
— No, she is not, Tom.

Believe me, I know the type. Fifth columnists.

It was people like her — free thinkers —
that lost us the Empire.

No team spirit.
She does not care for her fellow man.

She can't stand her fellow man.

(Daisy) Precisely.

There've got to be a lot of changes
round here if I'm going to stay.

There's far too much isolation.
There should be more communal living.

Shared kitchens, shared living areas.

Economies of scale.
just what I was saying to Diana.

Of course, Harvey Bains will have to go.

— Harvey?
— Oh, yes. Hopeless incompetent.

— And that flimsy fish, Jane.
— Jane?

No place for waverers in our new world, Tom.

Oh.

I shall put in a report to the shareholders.

Do you know any shareholders?

My son and daughter—in—law
have a stake in the place.

Good. We'll get on to them. Soon have
the waverers packing their bags.

But, Daisy, you shouldn't throw
the bath out with the water baby.

Um...

Basil, Betty.

Oh. What is it?

I was just about to belt
Betty's balls clean over the fence.

— Who's doing what?
— Ah, well...

Now, then, Betty. Last year you were working
the candyfloss machine.

— Yes.
— Not very successfully, as I recall.

Lady Mayoress totally covered
in huge globs of pink slime.

Raffle tickets, I think, this year. Basil...

— Diana...
— You had yourself down as wanting to...

.."lead the Red Arrows
in a formation fly—pass."

Tn/ not to be loony. One loony is quite enough.

Diana...

You'll run "Bite the Apple
in the Bowl of Water".

This year, teeth must be kept in the mouth.
No cheating.

— Diana...
— What?

— It's all done.
— What is?

Stall allocation. Betty's on Pink Elephants.

— White Elephants.
— And I'm on Donkey Rides.

And who has done this allocating?

— Daisy Williams.
— I see.

Tears before bedtime.

just not quite sure whose.

— She's what?
— Planning on having you removed. And me.

Never mind you. How's she
planning to have me removed?

She's going to prove to the board
that you are incompetent.

How on earth could she do that?

Don't answer that question, Jane.

Well, Miss Daisy. "Butter wouldn't
melt in my mouth" Miss Daisy.

You poisonous little witch!

I've been so nice to her, Jane.

You have, Harvey. You're nice to everyone.

Is Diana Trent behind this?
Is she? Is she? Is she? I knew she was.

She's behind everything. She's in all my worst
nightmares. Must be her. It's always her.

It's not her. It could be Tom though.

Tom without Diana? I doubt it.

Tom couldn't find his nose
without a guide dog.

Well, I think Daisy's taking Diana's place.

She seems to be his guiding light now
and she's just as tough as Diana.

Oh, God. I can't have two warrior women
crashing round the place.

— One of them will have to go.
— Which one?

I don't know. What a choice. If you get rid of
Lucretia Borgia, you still have Ivana the Terrible.

— This Daisy Williams really seems on the ball.
— Oh, she is.

I mean, this is just an interim report on how she
thinks things should be restructured.

I must say, it's jolly impressive.

Oh, she is very impressive.

We think she's a good influence.

Not like that child—eater next door.

No, no. She's not like Diana, I must say.

And if the old snakeskin won't move in
with you, then maybe Daisy will.

You can set a trend.

Get them all sharing, then we can
squeeze in more of them

and at last turn a bit of a profit.
What do you say?

— May I show you to your car?
— Got another appointment?

No. I just feel one of my
"must strangle Marion" fits coming on.

Oh, you're a funny old possum, aren't you?

Well, bye—bye, Tom.

Oh, do leave the door open.
It's awfully whiffy in here.

Geoffrey, there are poisons, you know,
which are almost untraceable...

Yes, thank you, Dad.
Don't let Daisy slip through your fingers.

She's a top sort, Dad.

Right, jenny.

Here are this week's menus.
Pass them on to Chef for me.

Yorkshire Pudding every other day?

Yes, that's right. And bangers
and mash and mutton stew.

All good English food.

I never could see the point of that French
fiddle—faddlers all over the place.

Well, go on. Off you go.

Hello.

Do you know what the French say
about our cooking?

I'm sure I don't.

The English have a hundred different
religions but only one sauce.

It was probably remarks like that
that started the 100 Years War.

— Which we lost.
— For a moment.

Ha!

Did you want something?

Yes. What are your intentions
towards Tom Ballard?

I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that.

Standing too close to the guns.

Sorry?

I said, what do you feel about Tom?

What is that to you?

When you pension off your old carthorse,

you want to make sure he has
a comfy pasture and a bag of oats.

Are you calling me a bag of oats?

Well, you're certainly not a comfy pasture.

Does this mean
that you are thinking of leaving?

— Well, one of us has to.
— Not necessarily.

All you have to do is pull with the team,
be a decent member of the community.

As I said, one of us has to.

I see.

Well, who knows what the future may hold,

but I think you may rest assured

that the British officer
knows how to care for his men.

I suppose that'll have to do.

Oh, by the way. He gets very bad
sciatica during the winter.

All down his left leg.

It's also his Mount Everest climbing season,

so make sure he doesn't
sit on the roof for too long when it's snowing.

This report is treachery, Jane.

She says I'm a totally unnecessary person.

She wants to get rid of me too.

— I don't want to lose my job.
— Me too.

Will you stop being so self—centred, Jane?

— Sorry, Harvey.
— (Diana) Damn, blasted stairs!

We're gonna have to get Diana on our side.

God, I'm gonna have to be nice to her.

— How do I look, Jane?
— Gorgeous, Harvey.

Diana! How totally fantastically
wonderful to see you.

Shut up.

The only reason you have your office up here
is so half of us can't get at you.

Oh, I do love your little jests, Diana.

I must say, you are looking smashing today.

I bet all the local Don Juans
are hanging round.

— You're gibbering, Harvey.
— Thank you, Diana.

And you smell of fear and cheap aftershave.

It wasn't cheap! I mean...

And the smell of fear no doubt comes from this.

— Do you know about this?
— Not a leaf falls.

— Yes, and I suppose you're right behind it.
— Not at all.

So you'll help us bun/ it?

— Get this Daisy person on her bike.
— Nope.

What?

— N—O. No.
— But I don't understand.

What part of the world "no"
do you not understand?

But why not?

— Because of Tom.
— Tom?

He needs someone in his life
or he tends to fall apart.

And I'm obviously not the right person

but I'm sure Mrs Williams has
strength enough for both of them.

I would not stand in their way.

Oh, how wonderful!

You really are a Christian person.

Oh, shut up, Jane.

You mean you'd give in, leave, just so old Tom
can have a bit of happiness?

— I probably would.
— Good grief. You really are a barmy old coot.

(Diana) Harvey?

(Gasps)

— There you go, Tom.
— Thank you, jenny.

— Tom?
— Mm?

You know you're the biggest wally
ever to draw breath, don't you?

Have they put you on new pills, Basil?

In fact, I think you may be
the most stupid man I've ever met

and I was in the army for ten years.

What have I done?

You have let Daisy Williams put you in blinkers
and drag you round by the nose.

You deserve to have your ears boxed.

I'd do it myself if I wasn't so knackered
with being the local Casanova.

— You're not being a touch rude, are you?
— I hope so.

Diana may be one of
the most malevolent old crabs

to crawl up the beach,

but at least she's not
one of these half—pint sergeant majors

trying to get us to invade Germany
every 20 minutes.

Are you trying
to tell me something, Basil?

(Tom) Ahoy there. Anyone aboard?

Go away, Tom.

What ho?

What are you doing in here?
You belong over there.

— I've come to take you to lunch.
— I'm lunching here.

No, you're not.
You're lunching in the dining room.

I have no desire to mess with the boys

whilst being harangued
by that short—arse Genghis Khan.

— I'm staying here.
— Do it for me.

I've already done quite enough
for you, Tom. Go away.

It's important to my future.

You mean if I can't be brought to heel,

you will lose face
in the eyes of your Daisy love?

Maybe.

You're pathetic.

Pass me my stick.

(Bangs on table)

Now. I am thinking of putting up
a sort of daily roster

and a positive thought for the day
every morning.

OK? Do speak up if you don't agree.

— Er, Daisy...
— Not now, Basil. So that's agreed.

The new company noticeboard
will be in the corridor out there.

Well, hello there.

Hello, Colonel. And welcome, Diana.

How nice to see you in the dining room again.

May we assume from your presence
you have decided to join us

in the new order of things?

— You may.
— Well, I'll be jiggered.

How splendid. Do come and sit at your place.

It has not been reallocated yet.

Your rightful place.

Hold it.

Step aside, please.

To m?

Tom!

— Quiet, woman!
— Tom!

— What are you doing?
— Diana, your rightful place.

Hooray!

— Thank you, Tom.
— (Daisy) Oh, stop it! Stop it at once!

Sorry, old thing,
but, you see, the people here...

Well, they're here because they have
survived not just because they're old

but because they have been
made with the right stuff.

Independence, self— reliance,

being an individual.

There's a time and place for armies
and teams and pulling together,

and everybody here,
I'm sure they've all done that,

but this is their time now — our time.

Not a time to be bullied
or dragooned, but a time to enjoy.

A time to reflect, a time to smile. Ha—ha!

Where did you get
that bloody awful speech from?

— From nowhere. I just said it.
— I bet jimmy Stewart said it first.

No, he did not.

I thought you were rather taken with her.

No. I was swept along by her. We all were.

— Well, I wasn't.
— No, but you're not a normal human being.

Appeals to your community spirit

might just as well be addressed in Urdu
to an emu for all the effect they'll have.

Appeals to jingoistic spirits.

Forming teams, a desire to inflict
your views on all around you.

— Fascism, Tom.
— Or patriotism.

— It's a fine line.
— Yes.

So what is happening to Daisy?

Oh, she thinks you're all a pack of pinkos

and she's going back to Aldershot
to the El Alamein Retirement Home.

I shall miss her. I was looking forward
to a good punch—up.

Why didn't you? We were
expecting you to come out fighting.

Why did you let her off so easily?

Why? Oh, maybe I'm getting a bit old, Tom.

Oh?

Well, I'm glad the old Berlin Wall's gone.

You understood why I didn't
take to being opportuned?

You mean asking you to "shack up" with me?

— Yes, I do.
— What if I'd phrased it differently?

How?

What if I'd said,

"Look, Diana, we're a couple
of old battered buses.

"Why don't we just ring the last bell

"and trundle off to
the old scrapyard together, eh?"

What if I say it like that? Romantically.

Well, goodness. As romantically as that, eh?

Yes, well, I'm British.

As a nation, we're all a bit constipated
when it comes to paying compliments.

I just thought it'd be nice
if we had lived together.

Well, why didn't you say that?
Clean, simple, to the point.

— Really?
— Yes.

— I wouldn't have taken offence.
— No?

Mm.

All right. I'll try it.

A clean, simple,
straightforward question.

Diana...

— Er, Tom...
— Yes.

You ask a simple question,
you'll get a simple answer.

And, I promise you, be it yes or no,
you'll regret it.

No — you'll feel rejected.
Yes — you'll regret it.

Er... Would I really?

Believe me. I live with me. It's hell.
I wish I could move out.

Er... So I'd better put the film
back on the spool

and rewind to the point

where Fred pops the question to Ginger.

(Giggles) Good idea.

(American accent) Dear old Ginger Rogers.
We had a lot of laughs together.

— Did you know her well?
— We did eight films.

Of course you did.

— Ginger...
— Fred?

Would you care to step outside
and cut the rug with me?

I'd be delighted.

(Tom) # Heaven

(Both) # I'm in heaven

# And my heart beats
so that I can hardly speak

# And I seem to find
the happiness I seek... #

— Tom?
— Yes, Diana?

— I've got to tell you something.
— Are you sure, Diana?

— Oh, I'm sure, Tom.
— What do you want to tell me?

You've just trodden on my foot,
you great clumsy clodhopper!

(# Orchestra plays Cheek To Cheek)