You Rang, M'Lord? (1988–1993): Season 1, Episode 1 - The Phantom Sign Writer - full transcript

James and Mrs. Lipton, the cook, are suspicious of Ivy, who seems unused to service. Ivy almost catches Lord George in bed with Lady Agatha, wife of his friend Sir Ralph, who, according to George's mother-in-law, Lady Lavender, horse-whips his wives' lovers. Teddy suspects but George reminds him of his own fondness for serving maids. Nonetheless George is nervous and when somebody paints 'Fornicator' on the side of his car, the staff must hide the offending sight from the visiting bishop. Alf, however, sees the opportunity to make money by being Cupid's messenger for the illicit lovers. James shows his disapproval.

♪ From Mayfair to Park Lane
You will hear this same refrain

♪ In every house again, again ♪

You rang, m'lord?

♪ Stepping out on the town
The social whirl goes round and round

♪ The rich are up, the poor are down ♪

You rang, m'lord?

♪ The Bunny Hug at the Shim Sham club
The Charleston at The Ritz

♪ And at the Troc do the Turkey Trot
They give Aunt Maude a thousand fits

♪ Saucy flappers in cloche hats
Natty chappies in white spats

♪ The upper set is going bats ♪

You rang, m'lord?



Wish me luck.

Oh, I do look pale.

Oh, yes. That's better.

Good morning, Your Lordship.

Good morning, Ivy. How are you?

Well, Your Lordship, I was a bit pale when
I first got up, but I'm much better now.

(Grunts)

- Dad.
- Yes.

Wake up, Dad. It's 5:55.

What's the matter with you?
I don't get up till 7:30.

Mrs Lipton said I was to be down by 6:00.

Ivy, you're the maid, you
have to be down by 6:00.

I'm the butler. I don't start till 7:45.
Now, go away.

Dad, I don't know what I've got to do.



They might find out I've never been a maid.
Oh, come down with me.

In the first place, stop calling me "Dad",
and stop worrying.

Mrs Lipton the cook will show you your
duties. It's quite normal on your first day.

Now, off you go.

Dad.

Someone tried my bedroom door last night.

- What do you mean?
- The handle turned.

It's your imagination, Ivy.

It's not my imagination. That handle
was going up and down like a pump.

It'll be Henry having a
joke. Trying to scare you.

Now, come on. Give us a kiss.

Now, away downstairs
with you, or you'll be late.

Henry! Henry!

Good morning, Mrs Lipton.

What have you been doing?
The shoes should be clean by now.

The boiler went out.
I had to light it again.

- Your hands are filthy.
- Well, coke's dirty, isn't it?

I am perfectly aware of what coke is like.
Don't be cheeky or I'll box your ears.

Ow! You just did.

- Wash your hands.
- Yes, Mrs Lipton.

- Not there. In the scullery.
- Yes, Mrs Lipton.

I don't know where you were
when they handed out brains.

I expect I was lighting the boiler.

- Morning, Mrs Lipton.
- Morning, James.

Is there a cup of your most excellent tea
in the offing?

The kettle's just on the boil, James.

- Where's that girl Ivy?
- She's not down yet.

Well, she's late. It's 6:03.

Well, it is her first morning, James.
You mustn't be too hard on her.

Start as you mean to go on I always say.

Yes, Mr Twelvetrees, you always say that.

How many times have I told you
not to wipe your hands on the teacloth?

Ow!

Sorry, Mrs Lipton.

I... I heard a certain amount of creaking
in the servants' corridor last night.

Mr Stokes didn't try to
inconvenience you, I hope.

Oh, no. Certainly not.
What gave you that idea?

I hope it wasn't the Honourable Teddy
on the prowl.

What, after Ivy?

Oh, surely a gentleman like him wouldn't
interfere with her, not on her first night.

Oh, well. Least said, soonest mended.

Good morning, Ivy.

Good morning, Mrs Lipton.
Good morning, Mr Twelvetrees.

- You're four minutes late, Ivy.
- Am I? I'm ever so sorry.

Well, seeing it is your first day, we'll say no
more about it, but don't let it happen again.

What do you want me to do, Mrs Lipton?

Well, first of all, you can get the trays ready
for the early morning tea. They're over there.

Oh, how many do we want?

There's Lord Meldrum, the Honourable Teddy,
Lady Lavender, Miss Cissy and Miss Poppy.

What about...

I beg your pardon?

Mrs Lipton was just referring
to His Lordship's guest, Lady Agatha.

She stayed the night.

Oh, yes. Poor thing.
She was took poorly, wasn't she?

That's correct, Ivy.

She looked well enough
when she was having her dinner.

Well, I expect it come on sudden.

- Did they send for the doctor?
- I expect His Lordship give her what she needed.

Hold your tongue, Henry!
You finished those shoes, yet?

- Very nearly.
- Well, hurry up.

Ivy, come here.

- What is it, Mr Twelvetrees?
- What have you left off the tray?

Teapot, milk, sugar bowl,
cup and saucer, teaspoon. Nothing.

The cloth, girl. A lace cloth.
Who did you say was your last employer?

They never had morning tea. They were
bohemians. They never got up till 1:30.

Goodness me!
How could people like that afford servants?

Well, I blame the war, Mrs Lipton.
The wrong people have the money.

- Here's your tea, James. Do you want
a cup, Ivy? - Oh, yes, please.

- I won't mind one, either.
- Not until you finish those shoes.

- Here you are, Ivy.
- Thank you.

- How did you sleep? - Oh,
ever so well, once I dropped off.

I was a bit frightened at first.
Somebody was twisting my door handle.

Possibly that was me, Ivy,
on my way to the servants' bathroom.

I slipped on a hole in the canvas and perhaps
I steadied myself on your door handle.

Oh, I see.

The...

The tray cloths are in the sideboard
in the servants' hall, Ivy.

I'll go and get them.

What did you want to go
and make all that up for, James?

Well, we must protect the Honourable Teddy.

He won't be like he is today
if it wasn't for the war.

Oh, you young men.
Oh, you had to make terrible sacrifices.

We did our duty, Mrs Lipton.

- Morning, Henry.
- Hello, Mabel.

- I'm late. What sort of mood are they in?
- Rotten, as usual.

- Morning, all.
- Morning, Mabel.

- Sorry I'm a bit late.
- A bit late? It's 15 minutes, Mabel.

It was the bus, Mr Twelvetrees.
It was 10 minutes late.

They never been the same
since the general strike.

You should've left earlier. I'm sorry, Mabel.
I shall have to deduct it from your wages.

Quarter of an hour. That's threepence today.
Altogether, that's ninepence this week.

Oh, do you have to, Mr Twelvetrees?
Ninepence is a lot of money to me.

With my old man flat on his back,
not able to do a hand's turn.

I'm sorry, Mabel, but rules are rules.

If I come a quarter of an hour early tomorrow,
I bet they don't give me threepence extra.

Aren't you being a bit hard on her, James?

Well, you can't let women of her class
take liberties.

Probably waste it on beer anyway.

- Rinse your cup in the scullery, Ivy.
- Yes, Mrs Lipton.

I better be setting
the table for breakfast.

Henry, did you rattle my door last night
to frighten me?

No, of course I didn't. I expect it was
the Honourable Teddy up to his tricks again.

What do you mean?

He's always creeping up the stairs,
trying to have his way with the maids.

- Trying to have his way?
- Often as not, he succeeds.

Well, he's not having his way with me.

That's what they all say,
but they all give in in the end.

Well, he can rattle my knob
till the cows come home,

but I'm not letting him in.

Mabel, I've just been putting fresh towels
in His Lordship's bathroom.

The brass taps are very dull.

His Lordship should be able
to see his reflection distinctly

when he gets in the bath. Do them again.

Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.

And it's nearly 8:00. That floor must be dry
when the family come down to breakfast at 9:00,

so you better get a move on.

Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.

If you'd started on time,
you wouldn't have had this problem.

No, Mr Twelvetrees.

Good morning, Blanche.

Oh, Alf, I was beginning to get worried
about you. It's time for the trays to go up.

- Did you oversleep?
- It's all your fault for keeping me up so late.

Give over, Alf. It's you and
your bottle of port that did it.

- Give us a kiss.
- Oh, someone might come in.

Oh, you behave yourself, Alf.

Ah, I see you finally came down.

What time I get down is no
concern of yours, James Twelvetrees.

I'm in charge of this household.

And how I carry out my duties
is between me and His Lordship.

Your tray is ready, James.

There's yours, Mr Stokes.

Ivy, take this up to Lady Agatha
in the guest room,

then come back for Lady Lavender's.
Then there's Miss Cissy's and Miss Poppy's.

Why do I have to take four
and they only take one?

Well, you can't have men
going into the ladies' bedrooms, girl.

Might be all right at your last place
with them bohemians, but it won't do here.

Anyone would think from the way you talk
you've never been in service before.

Right, let's get on
with it, Ivy. You go first.

(Whispering) Sorry, Dad.

Alf and James don't seem
to like each other very much, do they,

considering they was in the army together.

It's Mr Stokes and Mr
Twelvetrees to you, Henry.

If they didn't like each other, why did
they bother to save each other's lives?

Because... Oh, don't be impertinent!

George! George!

- What is it?
- It's 8:00.

Good heavens! I set the clock for 5:00.
I must have dropped off.

(Knocking on door)

Good morning, Lady Agatha.
Here's your morning tea.

- Shall I pour?
- No, thank you, Ivy.

- Shall I puff up your pillows?
- No thank you, Ivy.

(George grunting)

I always used to puff up the pillows
for my mum when she was feeling queer.

- Are you feeling better?
- I beg your pardon?

- You were took poorly last night.
- Oh, no. I'm much better now.

Don't draw the curtains.

I'm sorry, I thought it would give you
a bit more light. Shall I put the lamp on?

No, I still have a bit of a headache.

- I'll bring you an aspirin. I've got
one upstairs. - No!

Oh, well, I'll leave you in peace, then.

- Do you think she saw?
- I don't think so.

No, it's pretty dark,
and she is a bit simple.

Damn! Stokes will be bringing my tea.
Where are my pyjamas?

Oh, your dressing gown's over there.
Your top's over there.

And your trousers are here.

I see. I got rather excited.

Good morning, m'lord.

Stokes, I've just been down to the front
door. I'm expecting an urgent letter.

- I see, sir. Did it arrive?
- No.

Possibly it will come by the next post.
Should I pour your tea, sir?

No, I'll take care of it.

- That will be all, Stokes.
- M'lord.

How was Lady Lavender?

She told me to get rid of
this and not tell anybody.

Yes, she has to have
that for medicine, poor soul.

I think she had a lot
of medicine last night.

- Mrs Lipton.
- Hmm?

When I took Lady Agatha up her tea, there
was this long lump in the bed beside her.

Does she sleep with a bolster?

I... I don't know, Ivy.

It's not for us to question
the sleeping habits of the gentry.

There's the tray for Miss Cissy.

Oh, Miss Cissy was ever so nice
to me last night. She winked at me.

Did she? Well, just put the
tray down and come out quickly.

Miss Poppy will want hers.

Yes, Mrs Lipton.

- Here, Dad.
- Ivy!

Sorry. Mr Stokes.
Something's been bothering me.

I woke up in the middle of the night
to go to the toilet

and as I was going down the passage,
I noticed your door was ajar.

- Well, I pushed it open, but you weren't there.
- I was probably in the bathroom.

Oh, I see.

I was in the bathroom.

- You're getting confused. You know how you do.
- Yes, I do, don't I?

- Whose tray is that?
- Miss Cissy's.

Well, go in, put it down quickly
and come straight out.

Why does everybody tell
me to come straight out?

Just do as you're told, Ivy,
and you'll get along fine.

- Good morning, James.
- Good morning, Your Lordship.

The bacon smells good.

I'll send Ivy up with some
extra toast very shortly, sir.

Good.

Oh, the Bishop's secretary telephoned to
say that His Lordship will be a little late.

Oh, that's all right.
I'm not going to the City this morning.

Thank you.

- Morning, George.
- Morning, Teddy.

Agatha left early.

Yes, I called a cab for her.
She doesn't like breakfast.

If you ask me, none of
our food agrees with her.

Every time she comes to dinner, she
gets taken ill and has to stay the night.

- Yes, well, it's none of your business, Teddy.
- Oh, come on, George.

I know what's going on.
The servants know what's going on.

It's only a matter of time
before Sir Ralph finds out.

And he's got a very nasty temper.

- Well, at least my taste in women is normal.
- What do you mean by that?

I don't go chasing around
after servant girls.

It always comes back to that, doesn't it?
Just because I've made the odd mistake.

Five.

I've tried to fight it, George. I do try.
You don't understand.

Pull yourself together. It's only 9:05.

- Good morning, George.
- Morning, Lavender.

- Good morning, Teddy.
- Morning.

Did you sleep well?

Well, quite well,
but I've got a bit of a head this morning.

I think my new medicine
doesn't quite suit me.

- Who makes it? Gordon's or Booth's?
- Teddy!

- How was dinner last night?
- Agatha was taken ill as usual.

Agatha? Oh, she married Sir
Ralph, didn't she? I knew his first wife.

Poor girl, she became involved with
a young captain in the horse artillery.

- It was quite a scandal.
- What happened?

Well, they were both at the theatre
in a box watching Chu Chin Chow

when Sir Ralph burst in and thrashed him
in the middle of The Cobbler's Song.

- Morning, Daddy.
- Morning, Poppy.

Morning...

- Morning, Grandmother.
- Morning, darling.

Morning, family.

- Where did you get to last night?
- Jerry took me to Ciro's.

- You made a terrible din when you got back.
- Sorry.

- Did I wake you, Daddy?
- No, I don't think so.

We had...

We had huge fun. We all went to
a coffee stall on Chelsea Bridge

and this policeman came along and
told us not to make so much noise.

Jerry knocked his helmet off and
we all finished up in Savile Row.

Police station? Really, Poppy.

It's all right, Daddy. Jerry gave a fiver to
the Police Benevolent Fund and they let us off.

You must be careful, Poppy.
Your father doesn't want any scandal.

- Do you, George?
- Of course not.

Good morning, Daddy. Sorry, I'm late.

I've been up since the crack of dawn.
They've got a new Arab.

He was a bit fresh, but I gave him a touch
of the whip and he settled down beautifully.

Oh, I'm sorry, Ivy.
I should've let the kitchen know.

- You probably took my tea up and I wasn't there.
- Oh, that's all right. I don't mind.

I know you don't.

- Ivy, more coffee, please.
- Yes, Your Lordship.

Did your friend Penelope go with you?

No, she doesn't care for that sort of thing.
She hasn't got the strength in her legs.

- Good morning, all.
- Good morning.

Any chance of a cup of your
most excellent tea, Mrs Lipton?

Sit yourself down, Constable Wilson.
I'm just about to make a fresh pot.

How's the world of crime?

Oh, pretty quiet, apart from an
altercation with an errand boy.

He was misbehaving
up against the churchyard gates.

You run him in?

No, gave him a warning and a clip round
the earhole. Saves a lot of paperwork.

Here!

You'll never guess
what Miss Poppy got up to last night.

They knocked a policeman's hat off
and they all got took to Savile Row.

Goodness me! Whatever happened?

They got off. That Mr Jerry gave the
sergeant five pound for the Police Fund.

They do very well out
of helmets at Savile Row.

On boat race night, them toffs,
they knock them off like skittles.

Keeps the boys in beer for six months.

- Miss Cissy back yet?
- Oh, yes.

She come in with shiny boots and a bowler
hat and said she'd been whipping an Arab.

I think I'll get dressed and then I
shall go and sit in the conservatory.

Not that anyone's interested.

Poppy, I don't wish to
come the heavy father

but I'm not at all happy
about the sort of life you're leading

and the set you're going around with.

Daddy, it's 1927. Girls don't sit around all
day doing petit point and reading Jane Austen.

Women have been men's chattels
since the world began.

We're just not putting
up with it any longer.

I'm not expecting you to be chattels. There's
such a thing as the proper way to behave.

And the proper way to dress, Cissy.

All this going around in trousers
and wearing your hair like a chap.

I don't like it at all.

I think girls should wear long dresses and
pinafores and have shiny scrubbed faces.

Yes, well, we won't go into all that.

If you had your way,
you'd bring back bathing machines

and cover up the legs on tables
in case the boys went wild with lust.

It's not that at all. Things are going
too fast. It's time you put the brakes on

and got back to decent values
like chastity, modesty and integrity.

Excuse me, Your Lordship.
Lady Agatha is on the telephone.

Oh? I'm coming right away.

What were you saying
about chastity, modesty and integrity?

Shut up, Teddy.

- Hello?
- George, it's happened.

- What has?
- He came back early this morning.

Oh, that.

George, I wasn't here. I think he suspects.

Why should he do that?

You came to dinner, you were taken ill and you
stayed the night. It's all perfectly logical.

It's the third time it's happened, George.

Ralph says either we're up to something
or you should sack your cook.

He stormed out of the
house in a terrible rage.

- He's not coming round here, is he?
- I don't know. He just left.

He didn't strike you, did he?

Good heavens, no. He's a gentleman.
He only hits men.

Oh, good.

Well, don't upset yourself.

There's absolutely no proof
about what you were talking about.

And admit nothing.

George, I feel terrible.
When am I going to see you again?

Quite soon.

- Tonight?
- No, no, no. Not when you're suggesting.

- You will be thinking of me, won't you?
- Definitely.

Tell me you love me.

- I do.
- You do what?

I do what you just said. Goodbye.

Is anything wrong, sir?
You look a trifle pale.

Come into the drawing room, Stokes.

Now, Stokes, if anybody should call
to see me this morning, I'm not at home.

I see, sir.
Shall I advise the Lord Bishop's secretary?

No, no, no. The Bishop's all right.
I shall see him. It's anybody else.

I see, sir. Very good.

Has Lady Agatha recovered
from her indisposition?

Oh, she's quite all right.

Ah!

When is Sir Ralph returning?

Well, that is the whole point, Stokes.

Sir Ralph came back early this morning,

and it's just possible
that he jumped to the wrong conclusion.

What conclusion would that be, m'lord?

Well, he might think
that Lady Agatha and I were intimate.

- Why should that occur to him, sir?
- Well, I can't hide the facts from you, Stokes.

A man of your intelligence must realise
I did not spend the night in my own room.

I understand, sir.

I spent a most uncomfortable night sitting
up with Lady Agatha in case she got worse.

I never for a second
assumed anything else, sir.

I saw it as my responsibility
as a host and as a friend.

And you know the sort of man I am.

- I do, indeed, sir.
- Sir Ralph doesn't.

So I think it'd be just as well if he didn't
find out I spent the night with his wife.

Would I be right in saying we need to establish
that you spent the night elsewhere, sir?

Yes. Yes, you would.

Perhaps I could say I
spent the night with you.

With respect, sir,
why should you spend the night with me?

Perhaps you're right. Forget it.

Possibly the Honourable Edward could vouch for
the fact that you spent the night with him.

- And why should I do that?
- I'm sure you can think of a reason, m'lord.

- Yes, good. Ask him to come in, would you?
- M'lord.

- Is Daddy still on the phone to Agatha?
- I expect they've got a lot to talk about.

After all, he hasn't seen her
since she went up to her room last night.

Ha, ha, ha.

Excuse me, His Lordship would like a word with
the Honourable Edward in the drawing room.

- Won't it wait? - I am given to
understand it is a little urgent, sir.

Oh, hang.

Do you think Daddy and Agatha
are up to something?

No, people Daddy's
age don't get up to things.

- Now, look here, Tiddles.
- Ah!

You want something, don't you? You're always
after something when you call me Tiddles.

I absolutely hate that name.
Makes me sound like a cat.

Yes, well, I do need a favour.

You always used to call me Tiddles
when we were boys

and you wanted to play with my Meccano.

"Tiddles," you'd say,
"can I borrow your Meccano, Tiddles?"

Oh, shut up about Tiddles.

You lost all the nuts and bolts.

Now, look, Teddy, if anyone asks, I want you
to say you and I spent last night together.

You and I spent last night
together? Doing what?

Well, you could say
you couldn't be left on your own

'cause you'd had one of your funny turns.

- I do not have funny turns.
- Yes, you do. You get these sudden urges

to go creeping up the back stairs
and knocking on housemaids' doors.

I always know when it's
going to happen. You go...

- I don't go...
- Yes, you do. You're doing it now.

Look, George, I know why you want an alibi.
It's Agatha, isn't it?

Well, don't try to involve me
into your sordid poodle-faking!

It's not poodle-faking. I love her.

Then why don't you ask
Sir Ralph to let her go?

What, and cite me as co-respondent?
Think of the scandal.

I'd have to resign from the club, there'd be
no Ascot. Couldn't go anywhere or do anything.

You could still go to the House of Lords.

Yeah, but that doesn't count.
Life would just be a social desert.

(Bell ringing)

That's the front doorbell. It'll be
Sir Ralph. Stand by me, Teddy.

- Stokes, I'm not in.
- Yes, sir.

Get back from that window.
You mustn't be seen.

Oh! The chickens are coming home to roost
with a vengeance now!

Keep your voice down.

What happened to that pompous old George
who sat behind that desk

telling me to pull myself together just
because I look at the odd servant girl?

You've got a mean streak, Teddy.
Always did have.

I should have known that when
you wouldn't lend me your Meccano.

(Knocking on door)

The Lord Bishop, m'lord.

- Charles, nice to see you.
- Morning, George. Morning, Tiddles.

Good morning.

- Would you like some coffee?
- Oh, that would be most delightful.

Coffee, please, Stokes. And I do
not wish to be disturbed whoever it is.

- I didn't realise I was so important.
- Of course you are.

By the way, George, as I was coming in,
I saw a man lurking in your bushes.

- Oh, did you?
- Oh, let's see.

Get away from that window!

I'll get Stokes to deal with it.

- Stokes.
- Yes, sir?

- The Bishop saw somebody lurking.
- Lurking, sir?

In the bushes. Deal with it.

- M'lord.
- And Stokes.

- Yes, m'lord?
- I am not at home.

Very good.

Where's that girl Ivy?

She wanted to send a letter to her mum
so I said she could go to the pillar box.

Well, let's hope she doesn't dawdle.

Talking of dawdling,
it's time I was back on my feet.

James, coffee for three
in the drawing room.

- Are you taking it up?
- No, you are.

- Would it be all right if I pop in this evening?
- Oh, you're always welcome, Constable Wilson.

What's on the menu upstairs?

Asparagus soup, sole bonne femme
and lamb cutlets.

Will they be breaded?

- If that's the way you like them.
- Oh, good.

Well, I'll see you this evening, then. Will
there be anymore of that Chateau Lafite?

Not tonight. We go by the Haut-Brion.

Oh, that's quite nice, too, isn't it?

- That man's a sponger. - Pays to keep
on the right side of the law, James.

Oh, you're the one to talk about the law.

If His Lordship knew how you
helped yourself to his food and wine,

he'd get shot of the lot of you.

That's not right, James.

Suppose some extra hungry guests
arrived unexpected,

imagine my position if
there wasn't enough food.

We only consume the excess
to stop it going to waste.

Here! Somebody's written something
on the side of His Lordship's car.

What does it say?

It's a great long word. I
don't know what it means.

- I better look.
- They've done it in white paint.

White paint? On His Lordship's lovely car?

- What a disgrace.
- You get on with the potatoes, Mabel.

Yes, Mrs Lipton.

Forny-ca-tor.

- What does it mean?
- Italian, isn't it?

No, Henry, it is not Italian.

Who could do such a thing
to a beautiful car like that?

- We better get it off quick before it dries.
- And before His Lordship sees it.

And before the girls see it.

Why can't the girls see it?
I'm a girl and I've seen it. Is it rude?

No, it's too long to be rude.

Rude words are short.

Henry, run along to the ironmongers
and get a pint of turps.

Yes, Mr Stokes.

I'll search the grounds. If I see
anyone suspicious, I'll collar them.

No, don't do that. He might be dangerous.

- Shall I get the police?
- No, don't get the police.

- Why not?
- Just do as you're told, Jim Twelvetrees.

I'm in charge here.

Get in the kitchen
and take up His Lordship's coffee.

I see.

My, my! You're ever so masterful when the
occasion calls for it, aren't you, Mr Stokes?

- That's my dad all over.
- Ivy.

Oh, your dad's like that, too, is he, Ivy?
Would he be in service as well?

He is now.

- What was written on the car, Mr Twelvetrees?
- Well, if you must know, fornicator.

Oh, my God!

Who'd do that?

It's going on all around us, Mabel.

Fancy.

Dad, why didn't you want
to call the police?

Because, Ivy, that word was probably
written by Lady Agatha's husband.

But why would he write forny-ca-tor?

Is he advertising something?

In a matter of speaking, yes.
He's advertising the fact

that Lord Meldrum and Lady Agatha,
from time to time, commit intimacy.

Oh, no!

And him being a Lord.

So forny-ca-tor means
he was the long lump in her bed!

Yes, Ivy.

And I thought it was a bolster.

I was going to puff him up and put
him behind her back to make her sit up.

It would have done that all right, Ivy.

Now, not a word to a soul.
This could lead to our advantage.

- Dad, you're not going to blackmail him, are you?
- No, Ivy. The situation is this.

Lord Meldrum is going to need
all sorts of alibis and services

if he's going to continue
his carrying on with Lady Agatha.

I shall be Cupid's messenger

and be the perfect gentleman
and make it worth my while.

Right. I'm going to tell His Lordship
about that word on his car.

Yes, forny-ca-tor.

Yes, Ivy.

- Will he know what it means?
- Yes, Ivy.

There we are.

Oh, 10 guineas. Most bountiful of you.

The distressed gentlewomen
will be quite overwhelmed.

What about you, Teddy? Haven't you anything
for the distressed gentlewomen?

I also have a fund for a new orphanage
that we're founding. It's quite near here.

Oh, that'll be handy. I'm sure
Teddy will give something for that.

I'll open the door for you.

Are you going to tell His
Lordship about the car?

It might not be necessary.
Henry's just gone to work with the turps.

GEORGE: Ah, coffee.

I hope you'll forgive me if I drink it rather
quickly. I'm due at Lambeth Palace in half an hour.

I have a meeting with the Archbishop of
York and the Archbishop of Canterbury.

You must meet the girls before you go.

- Ask them to come in, would you please, Stokes?
- M'lord.

Begging your pardon, sir. Will His Lordship
be saying a short prayer as usual?

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

- Shall I gather the staff in the dining room?
- Yes, please do. Thank you. I'll take care of this.

"Will His Lordship be saying
a short prayer as usual?"

You don't half suck up to them toffs,
Jim Twelvetrees.

I know which side my bread is buttered
and I know you.

You'll blot your copy book one of
these days and I'll be ready to take over.

The jump from the footman to butler
is like Becher's Brook.

You try it and you'll fall
right on your pompous backside.

Ivy, take those potatoes into the scullery.
Put them in a pan with some water.

Yes, Mrs Lipton.

It won't come off. It's dried.
Turps is no good when it's dry.

Well, you better tell Mr Stokes.

The Lord Bishop is going to say prayers in
the dining room. You're all wanted upstairs.

Oh, I shall enjoy that. He's such a
holy man. Are your hands clean, Ivy?

Yes, Mrs Lipton.

Let's have a look, then. Other
side. Good girl. Off you go.

Where's yours, Henry?

Over.

Just about good enough.

- It's like being back at school, isn't it?
- I don't know. I never went.

- Morning, Bishop.
- Hello, Poppy.

- Cissy.
- Morning, Charles.

Poppy, what a pretty dress.

And, Cissy, what a
pretty... pair of trousers.

The girls wear their skirts
terribly short these days, I'm afraid.

Of course, when I was a young man,
I didn't see a lady's legs at all,

so this sort of thing
came as a bit of a shock.

But I've got over it
now. In fact, I quite like it.

Excuse me, m'lord, the staff are all assembled
in the dining room ready for the devotions.

- Thank you, James. Shall we go in?
- I can't wait.

George, could you get your man to order
a taxi to take me to Lambeth Palace?

Don't bother about that., I'll give you a
lift. I'd quite like to get out of the house.

- Ivy, ask Henry if he got it off.
- Did you get it off?

- No, I didn't.
- No, he didn't.

- Why not?
- Why not?

- It dried hard.
- He tried hard.

Blimey!

Shh!

First of all, a few moments
of silent prayer. Let us pray.

What's the matter, Dad?

His nibs is going to give the Bishop
a lift to Lambeth Palace.

He'll see the forny-ca-tor!

So will the Archbishop of York
and the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Will they mind?

Shh!

(Knocking on door)

I'm coming.

- What do you want?
- It's Wednesday, I've come for the grocery order.

- They're all upstairs praying.
- What for?

From what I heard of this lot, forgiveness.

That boring old Bishop is at it again.
Listen to them.

(Singing hymns)

Load of hypocrites.

If they think I'm going to leave them
my money, they're very much mistaken.

I'll leave it to the cats' home.

(Squawking)

No, you don't like cats, do you?

I'll leave it to you.
I'll send for my solicitor in the morning.

Silly old bat! Silly old bat!

You just talked yourself out of a fortune.

Forever and ever.

Amen.

Oh, dear. Look at the time. I must rush.

- Stokes, coats.
- M'lord.

I'm afraid I got rather carried away.

I quite often do
when I'm praying with people I like.

Dad, forny-ca-tor!

- Do something.
- Eh?

Mr Twelvetrees! Mr Twelvetrees!

- May I have a word, m'lord?
- Not now, the Bishop's late.

Excuse me, m'lord,
there's not enough petrol in the car.

Oh, thank you. I'll get
some more on the way.

And the windscreen
wipers are not functioning.

Well, that's all right. It's not raining.

Come on. Get a cloth
each, and where's the Vim?

You're wasting your time.
I'm telling you, it's like a blow lamp.

You can't use a blow lamp on His
Lordship's beautiful car. You'll melt it.

You're a fool, Henry.

- Can I take your order?
- Yes. Go away.

You better pop outside, Stokes.
Make sure nobody's about.

Yes, m'lord.

- What are you afraid of, George? Bolsheviks?
- No, private detectives.

- Oh, shut up, Teddy. Off we go.
- Goodbye.

- Cheerio, Bishop.
- Goodbye, Charles.

It's no good.

- Why don't you try holystone?
- Don't be ridiculous.

- Watch out or he'll hit you.
- They're coming!

Come on, cover it up. Stand in front of it.

Get rid of the buckets.

His father was the chaplain but as I understand
it, it was really quite a coincidence.

Oh, the servants have come to
say goodbye to me. How charming.

And what's your name?

Mabel.

How charming. Goodbye.

Henry Livingstone.

Any relation to the explorer?

- Who?
- No, I suppose not. Goodbye.

- James Twelvetrees, Your Lordship.
- What's going on, Stokes?

- I think it's Sir Ralph.
- What? Where?

He's written something
on the side of your car.

Can I get to the car now please?

Yes, Your Bishop.

Good heavens!

We couldn't get it off, sir.

What a lovely motor you have, George.
I've never driven in one of these.

Yes, well, you have to get out.

- Really? Why?
- We've got a flat tyre.

Oh, dear. What an unfortunate occurrence.
Can you not pump it up?

- It's a puncture, m'lord.
- Yes, it's a puncture.

Oh, very well.

The Archbishops will be most cross.

Shall I telephone for
a taxi for His Lordship?

There's a bus goes
from the top of the road.

What an excellent idea! I haven't been
in a bus since they gave up using horses.

The number 76 stops right outside
Lambeth Palace, Your Lordship.

Henry, run to the top of the road.
Stop the number 76 bus.

Tell them to wait for the Bishop.

Goodbye, Your Bishop.

Goodbye.

We haven't got time for all that again.
You'll miss the bus.

They're very irregular since the
general strike. I had to wait 10 minutes.

- Mabel.
- If I'd have said that, he'd have hit me.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

It'll have to go back to the manufacturers,
that's for sure.

- What will they think?
- What do you think they'll think?

Mr Stokes.

I must have a word with His Lordship.

- Oh, yeah? Why?
- There's been a development.

One of our new young constables
apprehended a person

who was daubing paint
on His Lordship's motor.

- Oh, they've got him!
- He attempted to take him into custody,

but during the struggle,
the aforementioned personage

punched the constable
on the nose, drawing blood.

The constable overpowered him,
took him to the station

where he was charged with assaulting
a police constable and damaging property.

He might be charged
with writing an obscene word.

The desk sergeant's looking it up.

Who was it?

He gave the name of Sir Ralph Shawcross.

Sir Ralph? Why would he
do a thing like that?

Because his wife's been fornycatoring
with His Lordship.

Ivy!

- Wash your mouth out with soap! Common soap!
- Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.

I thought His Lordship
ought to be informed.

If the newspapers get hold of it,
he could be in Queer Street.

Without a paddle.

- I'll tell His Lordship at once.
- Oh, no, you won't.

I'll tell His Lordship. I'm the butler,
you're the footman and don't forget it.

Yes, but you've only just come here.
I've been with His Lordship for nine years.

And you could be with him for nine more years. As
long as I'm the butler, you'll keep your place.

- Is that enough soap, Mr Twelvetrees?
- No, put some more in.

That Mr Stokes, he's a bit of a tartar
when he gets balked, isn't he?

So is Mr Twelvetrees.

Oh, throw it away, Ivy.
I'll say that you've drunk it.

Oh, thanks.

- What do you want?
- I'm coming in with you.

Get back to the servants' hall.

How would it be if I told His Lordship
about that shell hole

where you and I found the Honourable Teddy
and that you stole the stone out of his ring?

- You were in it, too.
- Well, I'm in this, too.

Come on.

Come.

Would you like a nice cup of tea and a
piece of cherry cake, Constable Wilson?

No, thank you, Mrs Lipton.
I'm wanted back at the station.

You will tell Mr Stokes to come round
at once, won't you?

- Yes, Constable. We'll see you later,
I hope. - Of course.

I wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall
when His Lordship hears about Sir Ralph.

Me, neither.

Ivy, slip upstairs
and have a listen outside the door.

- Will it be all right? - Quite all right,
as long as you don't get caught.

- Take your duster with you.
- Yes, Mrs Lipton.

Well, it's a bit of a facer. No mistake.

You sure 20 pounds would be enough
to square it?

Make it 25, sir.
Just to be on the safe side.

If there is any surplus,
naturally I will return it to you.

Of course you will. Here we are.
And thank you both.

- I know I can rely on your discretion.
- Of course, sir.

Were you listening at the keyhole, Ivy?

Yes, but I missed the
first bit. What happened?

Mind your own business.

Alf Stokes, what are you up to?

I'm going to sort it out
with Constable Wilson.

- You can't bribe the police.
- Do you want to bet?

Where's Wilson?

He had to go back to the station. He said
you was to get there as soon as maybe.

James, get my coat and hat.

Get your own coat and hat.

Ivy, Henry, time you were both in bed.

Just going, Mr Twelvetrees.

Do you think Mr Stokes is all right?
He's been gone since lunch and it's 10:30.

Don't you worry your head about him, Ivy. If
he fell in the dock, he'd come up with coal.

- Yes, I suppose you're right. Well,
good night, all. - Good night, Ivy.

Good night.

- Good night, Henry.
- Good night, Henry.

I hope the Honourable Teddy doesn't
try any of his tricks on with that girl.

She's very simple, you know.

She's not as simple as all that.

There's something not quite right about her. I
wonder if His Lordship checked her references.

Well, I think she's a lovely
girl. She's very willing.

You leave well alone, James.
Least said, soonest mended.

Oh, there you are, Mr Stokes.
We were getting anxious about you.

I wasn't.

The supper was all dried up
so I've made you a steak and kidney pie.

Here it is. Help yourself to vegetables.
They're in the warming oven.

I'm off to the Land of Nod.

You're a treasure, Mrs Lipton.

Well, we have to look after our own,
don't we, Mr Stokes?

I'll be up to say good
night in half an hour.

(Mrs Lipton clearing throat)

There's a half-bottle of that Haut-Brion
on the sideboard,

or there's beer in the
cupboard. Good night.

Good night.

Don't you think you've had enough?

I'll be the judge of that.

You smell like a brewery.

Wonderful year.

You really fancy yourself
aping your betters, don't you?

They might be your betters,
but they're not my betters.

Where have you been for the last 10 hours?

There was a lot to sort out.

There was the young constable, three quid.
The desk sergeant who booked him, four quid.

And Constable Wilson, five quid.

Sir Ralph is now in his rightful place,
in the arms of Lady Agatha.

And His Lordship can sleep easy in his bed.

Until the next time.

Oh, and here's two quid
for you to keep your mouth shut.

- Don't be ridiculous.
- All right, three quid.

You can go on putting pound notes
on the table all night, you won't buy me.

Suit yourself.

So that's 13 pounds you can
give back to His Lordship.

Of course, James.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

I really have had a lovely day
and I think I'm going to like it here.

Oh, we had a bit of excitement
with the paint on the car.

Well, you saw all that
so I won't bore you with the details.

That Jim Twelvetrees is ever so
strict, isn't he? But I like him.

You know where you are with him and
he's ever so good-looking, isn't he?

Well, I think he is.

The toffs upstairs are a bit naughty, aren't
they? They don't carry on the way I was taught.

But I suppose it takes all sorts
to make a world, doesn't it?

Well, you know that better than anyone.

Oh, dear. That'll be the Honourable Teddy.

Do you think you could
do something about him, please?

TEDDY: Oh, drat.

(Footsteps receding)

Oh, thanks ever so much. Good night.

♪ From Mayfair to Park Lane
You will hear this same refrain

♪ In every house again, again ♪

You rang, m'lord?

♪ Stepping out on the town
The social whirl goes round and round

♪ The rich are up, the poor are down ♪

You rang, m'lord?

♪ The Bunny Hug at the Shim Sham Club
The Charleston at The Ritz

♪ And at the Troc do the Turkey Trot
They give Aunt Maude a thousand fits

♪ Talking flicks are here today
And Lindbergh's from the USA

♪ Poor Valentino's passed away ♪

How sad, m'lord.