All language subtitles for Simon.and.Laura.1955.1080p.BluRay.x264-OFT.en

Standby.

Keep still, number two, standby.

How's he gonna get the time?

Get ready, number three.

We're coming over to you in five seconds.

Excuse me, sir.

Yes, what is it?

The CT wants you in his office, sir.

Oh.

Take over, Bill, will you?

The CT wants me.

Okay.

And now would you show us, in close up,

what you are going to demonstrate.

When the camera's in close up.

This is the tawny, or brown owl.

The kind we get in the London parks,

and a very useful.

Oh, oh, no, no, no, no.

First of all, the wings,

well, just like that.

I hope that comes off.

- The beak and the...
- Excuse me, sir,

the CT wants you.

Right.

The CT wants you in his office.

Oh, dear.

- Hello there.
- Hi.

What's all this in aid of?

Prentice has an idea
for a new programme,

another spelling bee,
I shouldn't surprised.

That takes me out.

I can't spell my own name.

Ah, gentlemen, come in.

Sit down, won't you?

I won't keep you long.

Well, I've called you here together

to discuss a rather interesting proposal

put out by Mr. Prentice here.

You know, those of us
who've been in television

since the beginning realise
that nothing succeeds

like a series or a serial.

I almost said nothing
succeeds like excess.

Rather like advertising.

Repeat a thing often enough

and everybody has to buy it,

whether they really like it or not.

In fact, the DG sometimes
says, jokingly of course,

that if one televised a few pages

of the London telephone directory

regularly for five or six weeks,

one would gain an average
audience of over 10 million,

which brings us to Mr. Prentice.

All right, David, tell us your idea.

Thank you, sir.

Would you mind if I took off my coat, sir?

Why, is it hot in here?

No, but I always think
better with it off.

Remove it, by all means.

Thank you, sir.

Well now, my plan, in a nutshell,

is to put on every evening
at a peak viewing hour

a programme that will, well,
that will mirror the lives

of an ordinary, happily
married husband and wife.

We show their ups and downs,

their, well, the fun they get out of life,

the minor tragedies that
inevitably creep in their lives,

their hobbies, what they're talking about,

thinking, reading, and
so on, so on, and so on.

A sort of "Mrs. Dale's Diary," in fact.

Oh no, no, nothing like that.

We want an actual real-life couple

with genuine glamour and
excitement in their lives.

And whose fundamental interest
is a contented home life.

Exactly.

You'll never find them, old boy.

Why not?

I mean, we can pick a well
known actor and actress

who also happen to be married.

And how do you know they still will be

by the time you get to
the second programme?

That's a sound point, Johnson.

But there are several of them

that have been happily married for years.

Such as?

The Attenboroughs.

The Oliviers.

I think we can do better than that.

What about the Fosters?

Hmm.

They've been married for years.

Both of them have been stars

for as long as I can remember.

And, sir, absolutely
devoted to one another.

Just a minute, Laura!

Laura!

Ooh!

Simon!

Open this door!

Not till you apologise!

I'll break it down first!

Just you try!

Cad!

Slut!

- Beast!
- Trollop!

Ooh!

You called, sir?

Simon!

I was addressing my wife.

- I'll make lunch.
- Open this door!

You know

- what happened last time!
- Wilson?

Sir?

- I'll call the police!
- What time is the next

presentable train for Leicester?

Discriminating travellers

speak very highly of the 1:25, sir.

Good.

Now, nip around to Cook's
and get me a ticket.

- One, sir?
- One, single.

Try and get me a corner seat.

What do you want?

Money, sir.

I am temporarily embarrassed.

Well, take it out of
the housekeeping money.

The housekeeping is
also embarrassed, sir.

Well, scrape it up somehow.

Excuse me, sir.

Someone seems to be knocking, sir.

- Open this!
- All right, well answer it.

There's the key.

Thank you very much, sir.

Will you open this door?

Simon!

You nasty old hand!

You!

Thank you, Wilson.

A pleasure, madam.

Hello?

May I speak to Mr. Burton, please?

Don't give me that.

Bertie hasn't made a round
of the studios for 20 years.

Tell him I'll be there in 10 minutes.

Wilson!

Bring me a suitcase.

- I have it here, sir.
- Good.

And your clean shirts, sir.

Are you, um, planning to go somewhere?

Yes, home to Mother.

For long?

For good.

Then you'd better take this scarf.

You'll probably need it.

Your mother's house gets
very damp in the winter.

Where did you get this?

In your golf jacket.

No wonder your handicap's gone up to 20.

Laura, I've asked you
not to go through my things

like a customs official.

Hmm, I can well understand why.

These I found in your golfing trousers.

What are they?

Their two tees, a hair
grip and an earring, sir.

Ladies day at Sunningdale
must be quite an occasion.

Wilson, I asked you to
go and get me a ticket.

Yes, sir, at once, sir.

It's just that I find the rapier thrusts

of madam's conversation highly
stimulating, sir.

Simon.

Before you go, I, I just
want to say one thing.

You left me permanently for
your mother's five times

in the last three years.

The average length of absence
has been about 10 weeks.

Then you've appeared in that doorway

with a nauseating smirk on your face

and two dozen roses in your hand.

And I, heaven forgive me, have said,

"All right, come in."

Well, understand this, Simon.

This time I'm not saying come in.

And this time I'm not
wasting my money on roses.

You didn't the last two times.

The bill came in for the
florist, and I paid it.

12, 15, 17, 19.

22, 23.

Hmm, still not enough.

The governor'll never travel third class.

Well, bang goes the bread money again.

You must be philosophical
about it, Jessie.

Well, I only hope the baker will be.

Oh, very pretty.

And where are you off to now?

I'm going to see my agent.

Remind him if he's drawing
up any sort of a settlement

that the furniture's mine and paid for.

And the house is mine.

You mean the mortgage on it is,

and the payments are 18 months in arrears.

Now, what will you do, my darling,

when you get to Leicester?

Is there a repertory
theatre you could join?

Repertory?

They'd probably welcome an
older man with your experience.

Very interesting life, too.

"Streetcar Named Desire" one week,

"Lace on Her Petticoat" the next.

I'm sorry, the idea
doesn't appeal to me.

Oh, pity.

It uh, might get rid of some of those

irritating mannerisms of yours.

Mannerisms.

You can't do double takes

52 weeks in a year even in Leicester.

At the end of the second month,

the people will begin to think
you had a permanent twitch.

Might I remind you that
you were carrying entrees

when I was already a leading man?

Might I remind you
that you haven't worked

for the last 11 months,

and I very much doubt if
you'll work for another 11.

The skids are well and
truly under you, Simon,

only you're too pigheaded to admit it.

Thank you very much.

Your great faith in me is most touching.

Wait here a minute, will you, please?

Morning.

Mr. Burton's expecting me.

- I'm sorry, but...
- Oh, pay off my taxi,

will you, darling?

I haven't any change.

Know more after I've
been in touch with Binkie.

- Yours faithfully.
- Good morning, Bertie.

Good morning, Miss Jones.

I don't see anything good about it.

I know, you're busy.

So am I.

I called in for a check, not a chat.

50 pounds will do.

Now, why should I give you 50 pounds?

As an advance.

An advance against what?

Now don't be silly, Bertie,

against my next salary check.

And when will that come?

Well, you oughta know,
you're my agent, aren't you?

Unfortunately, yes.

I'd like to ask you something, Simon.

Just what do you think an agent is for?

Ah, that's something we've all wondered

from time to time.

Now, now, now, don't banter.

I'll tell you.

To get you jobs and take
10% of the money you make.

- Exactly.
- Now I'll tell you

what he's not for.

He's not for settling your income tax.

He's not for settling your gambling debts.

Nor for cabling you your
return fair from Monte Carlo

when you're cleaned out at the tables.

Well, you enjoy a flutter yourself.

Certainly I do.

But when I lose, I don't come to you

and ask you to pay my bookmaker.

Neither do I.

No, but it comes to the same thing

when you expect me to advance you

10% of some other actor's salary

when you've neither of
you worked for a year!

Well, I must admit,

for an agent you've been very generous.

Oh, well, thank you.

That's big of you.

That's very big of you.

On the other hand, if you got me a job,

I wouldn't have been
out of work for a year.

Now, now, let's not be sordid.

Excuse me.

Yes?

Miss Drake's still waiting
to see you, Mr. Burton.

Oh good heavens, don't keep her waiting.

Send her in.

Give him a check, give him the cash box,

give him the keys to the safe.

- Hello!
- Darling,

nobody told me you were here, mwah.

- Do you now Simon Foster?
- How do you do?

I'm still not absolutely convinced

that I'm doing the right thing.

I tell you what I will do.

I'll agree to a four-weeks trial.

How's that?

I'm sure you won't regret it, sir.

And I can contact the Fosters?

Yes, if they're agreeable,

you can go ahead with
the preliminary plans.

Oh, and see that the script

stresses the solidarity of the home.

Peaceful, happy atmosphere
of marital bliss.

It's very important.

Who were you thinking of for the writer?

Well, I thought of Janet Honeyman, sir.

You mean the girl

who's doing "Insect
Life in British Ponds"?

Oh, but she did do the "Darby
and Joan" programme, too, sir.

All right, I'll leave it to you.

Thank you, sir.

There's one thing
you've forgotten, Mr. Prentice.

Sir?

Your coat.

Oh.

Thank you, sir.

Your ticket, sir.

Oh, thank you, Wilson.

Here's a couple of pounds.

Keep the change.

Oh, thank you, sir.

Now, before I go, wages.

No, on second thought, I'll
give you and Jessie a check.

I shouldn't bother, sir.

It only causes embarrassment.

No, I'll write you one at once.

What are you doing?

There's no need to add
kleptomania to your other failings.

You put those back at once.

They happen to be mine.

They most certainly are not.

They were presented to me

by the cast on the 300th performance

of "Marriage in Mayfair".

I seem to remember that
on the 300th performance

you were on holiday in
Paris with Sybil Hunter.

Laura, before I leave,

I want you to know,

I forgive you for all your insults,

including that last one.

My insults?

Ooh ha, ha, that's rich.

Who started that sordid
brawl this morning?

The same person who usually does.

The reason was
cigarette ends in teacups.

It was nothing of the sort.

It was a...
If there's one thing

I abominate, it's a filthy wet mess

of loose tobacco swimming

- about amongst the tea things!
- I merely happened

to mention.

As I was saying when you slammed

the door in my face...

There are seven ashtrays placed

in strategic positions
all around the room.

Now, do you ever use one?

Oh, no.

If you can't find a teacup handy,

your beastly cigarettes get stamped

out on my dressing table,

in the rose bowl or down the sink.

I go around cleaning up after you

like an attendant at the zoo.

Have you finished?

For the time being, yes.

One of the most tragic fates

a man can suffer is to
be saddled to a nag.

Saddled to a what?

A nag.

And no matter how much you think

my education has been neglected,

the equestrian phraseology
was intentional.

You know, you really shouldn't

try and talk like Wilson.

You just haven't got the
presence to get away with it.

This morning, on
looking through the back

page of the daily paper,

I merely happened to mention

that the lady in the divorce case

had remarkably good legs.

- I remember perfectly...
- Seven minutes later,

after you'd twisted that remark,

you'd practically made
me the co-respondent.

Well, what do you expect

if you will be seen going
around with Sybil Hunter.

Sybil Hunter happens to
be a patron of the arts.

Uh, bunk.

She's a patron of one thing

and one thing only, men.

And in her declining years,

she's getting less and
less choosy what men.

Mm, Gerald Baxter to you.

And what is the matter
with Gerald Baxter?

He's made some excellent pictures

in these last two years.

And he's made some
excellent passes at you,

and you've encouraged him.

How dare you!

You take that back at once.

I will not.

I called you a trollop,

and I meant a trollop.

Ooh.

Trollop!

After due consideration, we decided

that the Fosters were the ideal couple.

What do you say?

Oh, I beg your pardon.

When do you want to start?

Right away.

Ooh, ooh, I'm afraid that's
extremely dodgy, old boy.

Three different studios
want 'em for a picture.

Simon has an offer to a play,

and Laura's more or less promised

to take a real big part on Broadway.

Oh.

Oh, I see.

It's all those dollars.

You know how it is.

They sound so much more than pounds,

particularly BBC pounds,

if you don't mind my saying so.

Oh, dear.

Oh, well, I suppose I
better try the Oliviers.

No, no, don't do that!

I mean, I just hate to let you down.

I tell you what I'll do,

I'll get them on the phone

and see if I can bring a
little pressure to bear.

Oh.

Oh, well, that'd be
awfully kind of you, sir.

Not at all.

Yes, Mr. Burton.

Miss Jones, put a call through
to the Fosters, will you?

Hello.

Oh, Mr. Burton.

No, I'm afraid Mr. Foster's not at home.

No, sir, madam's resting.

He's just left.

He's catching the 1:25 to Leicester.

I believe...

No manners.

Where to, sir?

Leicester, the 1:25.

Right.

The 1:25 train to Bransford

leaves from platform three.

Calling in Leicester, Trent, Chesterfield,

Sheffield, Leeds and...
Simon!

Simon!

Hello, Bertie.

Come over here.

I want to talk to you!

What's the matter?

Now, what's all this nonsense

about you going to Leicester?

It is not nonsense.

I am going home to Mother.

I've left Laura.

Left Laura?

Don't be silly, you can't do that.

Not now, not when I have work for you.

What did you say, dear boy?

Work!

Yes, it is extraordinary, isn't it?

Look, we can't talk here.

Let's go and have a drink.

All right.

Come on.

Now.

Two scotches, miss, please.

Large ones.

Now, Bertie, what's
all this about a job?

Simon, I think I
deserve a pat on the back.

I've landed you something every actor

in this country would
give his eye teeth for.

What, in the theatre?

The theatre?

Oh, don't be silly, old
boy, the theater's had it.

Is something the matter?

No, I'm sorry, no.

Do forgive me.

Don't mind me.

But you know, just for a moment,

I thought you were Simon Foster.

But of course, I see
you're very much older.

Thank you.

What is it, a film?

Films?

By the time they've made up their mind

what size and shape they're gonna be,

they'll be through.

3-D, 4-D, curved screen, cinerama,

who cares if the story's no good.

Don't spoil it.

Bertie, I've already
made it crystal clear,

I cannot skate.

My dear fellow, I wouldn't dream

of putting you on ice.

Well, what is it?

Television.

Television?

And you call that a wonderful job?

But of course.

Three weeks rehearsal,

hardly enough money for
your fair to the studio,

a technical breakdown in the
middle of your big scene,

and no repeat performance.

No, thank you.

But, Simon, this is gonna be
something entirely different,

something that may well put you and Laura

right back...
Laura, is she in it?

But of course!

What's one without the other?

Romeo and Juliet, Swan & Edgar,

scotch and soda, Simon and Laura.

Now, just a minute.

In the first place, I have no intention

of appearing on television,

and in the second place,

Laura and I are parting.

I'm going home to Mother's,

and that is final.

Now, Simon, look, be sensible.

Uh, excuse me!

Nine shillings, please.

Bertie, you're wasting your time.

Nothing could persuade me
to work with Laura anymore.

But you know you're
marvellous when you're together.

Mm, if you'd seen what
went on this morning,

you wouldn't be too sure.

Leave it Bertie.

I'll fix all that.

Look, it'd take more than
one piffling TV engagement

to bring us together again.

This isn't one engagement, you clod,

it's for every day!

What do you mean every day?

Five days a week, 52 weeks of the year.

In three months, you'll
be a national figure.

Ah, there's David Prentice now.

Arriving together, that's a good omen.

I'm glad you think so.

David, dear boy.

This is Simon Foster.

How do you do?

How do you do, sir?

Well, come along in.

Good afternoon, Wilson.

- Good afternoon.
- Where's your mistress,

Wilson?

Upstairs, sir.

Will you tell her Mr. Burton's here

on business with a producer.

Yes, sir.

Oh, you must forgive my staring.

It's disconcerting, I know,

but nowadays, I see
everything in terms of angles.

That must make it a bit tricky

when you're addressing a golf ball.

Oh, I don't play golf.

No, I didn't think you would.

Yes, yours is a face with problems.

You, to coin a phrase, are telling me.

No, I mean camera problems,

but a lot, of course, can
be done with lighting.

Yes, or you could
put it behind the sofa.

Do come in.

Oh, thank you.

Ah, this is a good room.

Oh, do you think it has
a spiritual atmosphere?

No, I mean from our point of view.

Madam presents her compliments

and asks me to assure you

she'll be with you immediately.

Thank you very much, Wilson.

Was that your manservant?

Oh, Wilson, yes.

He was an actor, and he was my dresser...

Ah, an actor.

Ah yes, I thought so.

He's a natural.

He moves, doesn't he?

From time to time, yes.

Aha!

Laura, darling.

Bertie!

Laura, I want you to meet

a very brilliant young
producer, David Prentice.

Hello!

Uh h-hello.

David, what on earth are you doing here?

Well, if you come and sit down

and relax, he'll probably tell you.

I thought you were on
your way to Leicester.

I'm getting a later train.

Don't miss it, dear.

Don't worry.

If I do, I'll sleep in the waiting room.

Isn't it absurd?

Always pretending to be
fighting, such children.

David, come and sit here by me

and tell me what it's all about.

Oh, um, well, do you mind

if I sort of wonder about a bit?

Oh, please do?

May I slip my jacket off?

Is it hot in here?

Well, no, but I always
think better with it off.

Well, I am here because CT.

CT?

Oh, he's the controller of television

and DTD, he's the director
of television drama,

well, they have given me the go-ahead

on a new programme which
deals with the private life

of a celebrated couple who
are really happily married.

Who was that?

Well, the governor's come back.

I hope he doesn't want his lunch.

Why?

Because I've eaten it.

Pardon.

They're doing the same
thing in America, you know.

Oh yes, and with great success.

You probably read recently, Mrs. Foster,

the nationwide interest over there

when the wife in their
programme had a baby on TV.

I hope you're not suggesting
I should do the same.

Well, it's not absolutely essential.

I'm so glad.

Well, anyway, we feel,

we feel that it is essential
that everything else

should be as authentic as we can make it.

You know, sort of a, well, an EWA.

A sort of what?

Oh, an eyewitness account.

- Oh.
- But that.

- I do beg your pardon, sir.
- I'm terribly sorry.

But that is why our
couple should be not only

well known as actors
but as a genuinely happy

husband and wife.

Frankly, well, it rested
between you and the Oliviers.

But both CT and DT plumped for you.

Oh, why?

Because you've been
married so very much longer.

Well, what do you say?

No.

Sorry, old boy, it's
out of the question.

Simon!

Laura!

Are you mad?

Don't be ridiculous, Bertie.

Mr. Prentice had better know immediately

that Simon and I...
Have arranged.

Ah, Prentice, old man,

would you mind awfully
waiting till this evening

for an answer?

- Oh, not at all.
- Good.

Everything will be all right.

Just leave it to Uncle Bertie.

Don't you worry.

Don't forget your briefcase.

Naturally, a thing like
this needs thinking over.

They have so many offers,

so much to consider.

You know how it is,

inclined to make them a bit.

- Yeah.
- Oh.

Now, I tell you what,

suppose we dine together
this evening at Mario's?

Oh, that would be splendid.

About eight o'clock?

Might I bring my
script writer along too?

Bring your, oh my dear
boy, bring everybody,

CT, DDT, DTs, everybody.

Yes, thank you.

Mr. Prentice!

Sir?

You've forgotten something.

Oh.

Yes, put your coat on.

You'll catch cold.

Oh, thank you so much.

Until eight o'clock then.

Yes.

Well, uh, au revoir.

Au revoir.

Auf wiedersehen.

Take care of yourself.

What on earth is the matter with you two?

Have you taken leave of your senses?

I've taken leave of Laura, that's all.

And not a moment too soon.

I'm sorry, Bertie.

Better luck next time.

There isn't going to be a next time.

May I remind you

that between you you owe me
1,647 pounds, 18 shillings.

You're lucky.

You should see what I owe my bookmaker.

Now, I'm warning you, both of you,

that if you turn this down,

I cannot afford to go on taking 10 percent

of your earnings.

It's too expensive.

Cheers.

I suppose it would be
quite an opportunity.

It could lead anywhere, Laura, anywhere.

Is the, uh, money good?

All money's good when you
haven't been making any.

And this will be coming
in regularly every Friday.

Do you suppose we could
come to some arrangement?

Not with you in Leicester.

What if I don't go to Leicester?

I suppose we could,

but it would have to be
purely a business arrangement.

Everything I said this morning stands.

Naturally.

All right.

Ring for Wilson, and tell him to put

your things in the spare room.

That's my Laura.

By the way, Laura, where did you meet

that ghastly young man?

At the Baxter's.

And he's not ghastly.

He's sweet.

At the Baxter's.

- Yes.
- Now, now, you two.

- The night...
- May I suggest

that you take a little rest,

just relax, while I go and talk

to the BBC contract's department.

Don't let them do you down, Bertie.

Ha ha, do me down?

Darling, don't be absurd.

Christopher Marley, head of BBC contracts

used to be my fag at Eton.

Till tonight.

Not be worried.

Nobody is to worry about a thing.

Here's to it.

- Here's to it.
- Here's to it.

Indeed.

I can't tell you how
glad I am that you agreed.

You know, I've been a
fan of yours for years.

Why don't you tell her how you played

truant from school to
catch one of her matinees?

It's very funny you should say that,

because as a matter of fact,

I did play truant once.

But that was to see you.

From prep school, I take it.

You know, I simply adore

the delightful air of banter

that exists between you two.

Banter?

Yes, there's a sort of,

well, a brittle superficial
thrust and parry.

And yet, beneath it, once
can sense a true bond.

- Can one?
- Can one?

Of course one can.

And it's exactly what
we want to emphasise

in this programme.

Ooh, that reminds me.

If I may, I'd like to
bring my art director

round to your house.

We're going to make an exact copy of it

in the studio so that you'll feel

perfectly at ease and be able to behave

exactly as if you were at home.

Oh, that'll be fun.

Ah, here's our scriptwriter.

Janet.

Simon!

Janet.

Janet Honeyman.

By all that's wonderful.

- Hello, darling, how are you?
- Simon, dear.

I'm fine.

I take it you two have met before?

Yes, at one of Sybil Hunter's parties.

Really?

How do you do, Miss Honeyman?

I, um, think I ought to tell you

that in this programme, I play the wife.

Hello.

I'm so sorry.

I didn't see you sitting there.

Ah, well, let's hope the viewers

will be more fortunate.

Shall we go in?

Yes, shall we?

I suppose it never occurred to you

that I might be using that newspaper.

Gilbert.

You're the very man I wanted to see.

Oh, Simon, my dear boy, Simon.

Arthur, Arthur, bring Mr. Foster

a whiskey a water.

Thanks.

I need your help, Gilbert.

I'm on the brink of a television series.

Oh, better make that
a large whiskey, Arthur.

Done.

A weekly series?

No, daily.

Oh, no, no.

You better bring the whole bottle.

Yes, sir.

My poor friend, my poor Simon.

Do you know what happens to you

when you allow yourself to be regularly

exhibited in that glass rectangle?

- No, not really, I, I...
- Well, I'll tell you.

You become public property.

Your face, electronically distorted,

is huddled round and
gawped at by three quarters

of the population of the United Kingdom.

And within a month, every wrinkle,

every wart and pustule has become part

of our British way of life.

- Well, I hardly think...
- Start speaking your mind,

and they'll say you're rude and offensive.

Stop speaking your mind,

well, you're namby-pamby,
and you're slipping.

- Yes, but they tell me that...
- Mind you, mind you,

I'm not saying the British public

isn't warm-hearted and generous.

They are.

Terrifyingly so.

You have but to clear your throat,

And the following day you'll be inundated

with lintesses and
pastilles, pills and potions

and fryers and every kind of balsam.

Thank you, Gilbert.

I say your tips have
been very encouraging.

Oh, with pleasure.

Are you finished with
these, Lady Barnett?

Yes, thank you so much.

Isabelle.

Laura, my dear, how nice to see you.

I'm so glad I've run into you.

Listen, they want me to
do a television series.

Good for you.

Well, that's just it.

I mean, is it?

You see, it's a daily series.

- Daily?
- Hmm.

There aren't that number
of earrings in the world.

Earrings?

My dear, for a woman on television,

only three things really matter,

hair, jewellery, clothes.

Ah, now what about clothes?

Does one plunge or does
one come up to here?

Um, sort of happy medium,
you know, about there.

Actually, there is a
regulation BBC plimsoll line.

If you sink below it,

they come along and pin
a bit of sacking across.

Ooh, dear.

Well, in that case, Raymond,

I think I better have
my regular appointments

for Mondays and Wednesdays.

Wednesday's out of
the question, Duchess.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Foster.

That's the day when I'm on TV.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

Mr. and Mrs. Foster are expecting us.

Oh, come in.

Thank you.

Are you from the BBC?

That's right.

Oh, in there.

Thank you.

David!

W... wait a minute.

What's your name?

Jessie.

Why?

David, we simply must use her.

She's absolute heaven.

But I've never seen a face like it.

Here, that's enough of that.

It's all right.

He's only suggesting that you should

appear in the television show

with Mr. and Mrs. Foster.

She'd be sensational.

What do you say?

Well, I'd have to ask the master first.

We'll ask him now.

Yes.

Good morning.

Um, this is Adrian Lee,

who's going to design our sets,

Mr. and Mrs. Foster.

- How do you do?
- Hello.

My dears, what a divine room.

It's absolutely you.

Your personalities are
simply stamped all over it.

You know, nobody could possibly
invent anything like this.

Do you think I might browse around a bit?

Oh, please do.

All right, Jessie.

Oh, um.

I was going to ask you.

I think it would be rather fun

if Jessie and Wilson
appeared in the series,

as themselves, you know.

Do you mind?

Not if you don't.

Well, I think it would be
more true to life, don't you?

Fancy me an actress.

I should be like that maid

with "Life with the Lyons," shan't I?

In a way.

Only I don't talk with an accent.

All right then.

Ooh, as long as you don't
expect me to be funny.

You know it's funny
she should have mentioned

"Life with the Lyons"

because that's the one thing
that DTD had against you two.

- Oh?
- What was?

Well, the fact that you've no children,

you know, to complete
the popular conception

of real domestic bliss.

Still, you never know, do you,

if we are a success
and we run long enough.

Well now.

First of all, we've got to have a title.

That's equally important.

We want something, well,
short, simple and effective.

Oh, and if possible,
bringing in your name.

"The Foster Family."

Oh no, no, no, too
ordinary, too hackneyed.

Anyway, as I've just said,

it's not factually
accurate, is it, not yet.

I understood we were being engaged

for a television series,
not to boost the birthrate.

How about "Foster Frolics?"

It sounds like the falderals.

"Fade in the Fosters," do you think?

Hmm hmm, I can imagine what the critics

would do to that one.

"Foster Parents" wouldn't be bad,

if only, uh...

Oh, I'm so sorry.

"Follow the Fosters."

Where to?

I'm only throwing out ideas.

Well, you better throw that
one right out, hadn't you?

"The Foster Formula."

Oh, there's no need to make it sound

like a patent medicine, is there?

How about "Fostering Goodwill?"

Why?

Well, it's a play on words,
Foster, fostering goodwill.

Oddly enough, even
I had understood that.

Why not call it "Festering
Sores" and be done with it.

Simon!

Laura!

That's it!

That's it.

"Simon and Laura."

Absolutely straightforward,

absolutely simple.

It's just what we want.

Oh, as long as CT approves.

Of course.

Miss Honeyman.

- Ah, good morning, Janet.
- Morning.

Good morning.

Come in, darling.

Hello.

The first instalment.

- Oh, good.
- Oh, splendid.

- For you.
- Thank you.

What on earth do you think you're doing?

Just you think, all
those millions of people

when they switch on their tellies,

and what are they going to see?

Hmm.

Me.

Makes your stomach turn over

when you think of it, doesn't it?

Yes, it does rather.

But never mind, the makeup
department can do wonders.

Oh, well, it's all right for you.

You've been on the stage before.

That was different.

I was legitimate.

Now, that's enough of that.

My parents were married before I was born,

and I've got the lines to prove it.

The only lines that need worry you

are the ones in the script.

Yes, I know.

I don't know how I'm going
to remember all those words.

You know, you could give me a few tips.

You've been in the entertainment business.

This isn't entertainment.

This is television.

Well, let's read straight
through it, shall we,

and we'll see how it sounds.

Allow me.

Oh.

Now then, um, the scene is this lounge.

Your off upstairs, Laura.

Simon, we pick you up in the hall.

Hang up your hat, come in,

and cross to about here.

Right.

All right, up you go, Laura.

When you're ready, Simon.

Hat.

Darling.

Now, you come down eagerly.

Thank heavens I'm
supposed to be an actress.

Simon.

Laura.

How did rehearsals go?

Well enough, but I missed you.

I can't be in every
scene you're in, darling.

Why not?

Part of the play is supposed

to take place in a monastery.

That comes out in episode three.

- Oh.
- Oh.

Right, over to the sofa.

It's so late, and you look so tired.

Well, I had to wait a
long time for the bus.

Imagine Simon using a bus.

We have to avoid any snob element.

Poor sweet, sit down.

There.

Besides, I stopped
somewhere on the way home.

That's the first ring of
truth in the script too.

To buy you a little
something for our anniversary.

So you didn't forget?

Something you've had your
eye on for a long time.

The necklace!

Oh, Simon, put it on for me.

Round the back.

All right.

Is this table gonna be here, old boy?

Simon, they're beautiful.

Lucky pearls to be around your neck.

Let's dine somewhere very special tonight

as a celebration, right?

Darling, don't you think a quiet

little dinner at home would be much nicer,

just the two of us?

When's the boxing coming on?

Not till after this muck.

Well, when's the panel game?

Oh, it's been on, Gran.

- Why didn't you nudge me?
- We did.

Well, nudge me when
the boxing's coming on.

Ah, look at that.

That's the Thompson's blasted car again.

Is it the boxing?

No.

Oh.

There you are.

My darling, a toast.

To us.

Excuse me, sir, there's a
police constable in the hall.

A police constable?

A very tough customer, sir.

Oh, well, show him in.

Yes, sir.

Oh, darling, what can he want?

Did you remember to
take out the TV last night?

But, Simon
darling, I thought that you...

But, angel, I thought that you.

Will you come this way, please?

The police tonight of all nights!

Perhaps he's only
selling tickets for the...

Mr. Foster?

Yes.

Don't you remember me, sir?

Coka!

Dear old Coka.

We were together in the war, darling.

I know.

Elsie, look.

Who does he remind you of?

Nobody I care to remember.

Well, he's the spittin'
image of old Dusty Miller.

Served with me in Italy.

Well, you needn't think
you're gonna bring him home.

We don't know your army
friends here, thank you.

# They say there's a troop
ship just leaving Bombay #

# Bound for old blighty shore #

# Heavily laden with time-expired men #

# Bound for the land they adore #

# There's many an airman
just finishing his time #

# There's many a twerp signing on #

# You'll get no promotion
this side of the ocean #

# So cheer up my lads, bless 'em all #

# Bless 'em all, bless 'em all #

# The long and the short and the tall #

# Bless all the #

Elsie, I've gone deaf.

Oh, it's all right, Gran.

The sound's packed up.

I'll do it!

You keep your hands off that set.

Cost me 90 quid, that did.

It's not a toy.

It's a very delicate instrument.

# The war #

# You'll get no promotion
this side of the ocean #

# So cheer up my lads, bless 'em all #

- Darling.
- Oh, David,

were we all right?

Oh, honey, you were wonderful.

- Oh, you were both so good!
- We loved every minute of it.

Let's hope the press liked it.

Not a hope, my dear fellow.

Simon and Laura aren't free.

No, not for months, years perhaps.

They're working, working.

Working.

Mom!

Elsie!

Come on, you two!

They're just starting.

Oh, Simon, just look at this hole.

How on earth do you manage to do it?

Well, it's quite easy really.

Ah, tea.

Jessie, what a lovely cake.

Madam made it.

It's well-produced.

It's well-acted.

It's good up to a point.

But it just misses.

Oh, well, do you really think so, sir?

I do.

And shall I tell you why?

Because family life is not
family life without children.

But surely, sir, Simon
and Laura are different.

They are.

They haven't got any children.

If you'd followed my
idea in the first place...

I did try, sir, but, well,
they just wouldn't hear of it.

They're under contract, aren't they?

Well, of course, sir.

Well then, what are you waiting for?

Tell Mrs. Honeyman to get
busy on a new instalment

using my suggestion.

All right, sir.

Laura, have you read episode 68?

No, why?

Well, they've introduced a blasted kid.

Well, they can't.

Everybody knows we haven't got one.

Well, it's a cousin
or a nephew or something

come on a visit.

Oh, that's not so bad.

Not so bad?

He's got all the best
lines and the fade out.

Good grief.

Now what?

It's quite a visit.

He's in 69 and 70 as well.

Camera three by the fire shooting

onto the settee, and camera
four out in the hall.

Where do you want that?

Um, well look, I'll show you.

Morning.

- Just about here, all right?
- Hello, boys and girls.

All right, quiet every one!

Now, let's run through
episode 68, shall we?

- Good morning, darling.
- Morning.

- How are you?
- Fine.

Good.

Timothy?

Now where's Timothy?

Here I am.

Ah.

Simon, Laura, I want you to meet Timothy.

Hello.

How do you do, sir?

How do you do?

- Ah!
- Ha ha, caught you.

It's electronic.

Charming.

All right, Timothy, now that's enough

fun and games for one day.

You go and sit down.

Well now, Simon, you're discovered

sitting on the sofa talking to Timothy.

To Timothy.

Darling.

Here you go.

Right.

That's right.

Now, Timothy, what have
you and Auntie Laura

been doing all day?

Don't tell me, let me guess.

Excuse me.

Shh, shh, shh.

Excuse me.

Well, what is it?

You're sitting on my choc ice.

Timothy!

Ooh, Miss Honeyman, can I
have a word with you, please?

Well, yes, Jessie, of course.

What is it?

Well, it's about the series.

I don't feel that my character
is sufficiently established.

Oh, you don't?

No, I mean, all the programme,

all I've done is to open and shut doors

and carry trays on and off.

I've had quite a lot of
letters from viewers about it.

Oh, how is your fan mail these days?

42 letters last week and
a proposal of marriage.

Oh, who from?

Well, it was written
on prison notepaper,

but you could tell it was a gentleman.

Oh, I'm sure.

Well, what do you want me to do about it?

Well, I thought, couldn't
I have a few love scenes?

Who with, Wilson?

Oh, no.

I haven't got down to that.

No, couldn't I have a bit
of a crush on the master?

On Simon?

On Mr. Foster?

Oh, a hopeless one, of course.

You know, like Pagliacci.

Uh, yes.

Well, I'll, I'll think it over, Jessie.

Yes, I think you better had.

You're late.

Now, where have you been?

To a lecture on electro-chemistry.

That was this morning.

Then I had an interview
with a film producer.

When?

Immediately after lunch.

It is now 5:30.

Immediately after his lunch not mine.

Ooh, by the way, am I to be a permanent

character in this thing?

Maybe.

I'm only signed up
for six more programmes,

and if I do the film,

I have to have my hair dyed.

Well, it all depends on how

good Mr. Prentice thinks you are.

You can hardly win an Oscar

with the kind of gaff you give me to say.

Thank you, dear.

Ask the makeup girl to
do both your heads, hmm?

Hello, Uncle, know your lines today?

Hello.

For you, Miss Honeyman.

Oh, thank you.

Yes?

Oh, Laura, hello, darling.

Is it urgent?

Oh, in that case, I'll
come over right away.

Trouble.

They've just ready 108.

Now, don't let them change a thing.

I'll do my best.

Come in.

Could I have a word
with you, Mr. Prentice?

Oh hello, Wilson.

Don't tell me you want a love interest

written in for you and Mrs. Foster.

Oh, no, no.

What's the trouble?

It's my nose.

Your nose?

Mm, apparently the makeup girl

doesn't bring out its finer points.

Oh.

My sister-in-law phoned to tell me

that during the past week it's looked

nothing more or less than a blob.

Well, it's probably her set.

No, no, a brand new 17 incher.

And she's not the only
one who's noticed it.

There was a letter from
a lady in Lancastershire.

Look, Wilson, what with Jessie

wanting her part sexed up,

Timothy wanting to dye his hair,

and the censor cutting every other word,

I have no time to do anything now.

But I promise you, I will look
at it very carefully tonight.

Yes.

- Now, Laura, please.
- Oh, are you suggesting

that we put up with that little rat

for the rest of our television lives?

Well, we can settle that later.

- Ha, ha, ha.
- But look what I have

to say, with a knowing smile, mark you.

Timothy goes back to
Shropshire on Saturday.

Well, that's a hell of a line.

You can't even say it.

And then what would you say,
Laura, if he didn't go back?

If he stayed here with us for always?

Note that little word always.

And then there is a
moment of absolute silence.

We see Laura's face in close up,

radiant with happiness.

Uh.

Now listen, Janet, I have acted

with octogenarians, dipsomaniacs,

dope fiends, amnesiacs, and veteran cars,

but I have no intention of trying to keep

my end up with a child actor
with a face like Timothy's!

The next thing you'll introduce

to keep us happy is a spaniel.

I know every two artists
should welcome competition,

but this little...
yes, but acting

with dogs and children is
not competition, it's murder.

And we won't do it.

- No, we won't.
- We won't, we won't,

- we won't.
- We won't, we won't,

we won't!

Timothy, darling, can
you give me Miss Bones,

the butcher's daughter?

No, Auntie.

But could you give me Mr. Bones

and Master Bun the baker's son?

Ooh.

And Mrs. Pots the painter's wife?

Now, Uncle, I'd like Miss Bones.

And Mr. and Mrs. Mug.

Oh, Timothy's so good at
making happy families, isn't he?

Happy families.

Shall we tell him now, Laura?

Yes, darling.

Timothy, we've had a letter from a lawyer.

And from now on, you can call us

- Mummy and Daddy.
- Mummy and Daddy.

Okay, cut.

I think I'm going to be sick.

Oh, I'm so sorry, darling.

CT's just sent for me.

He's on the warpath about something.

Oh, don't worry about these.

I can manage them.

Oh, all right.

You better not keep him waiting.

Uh, I've got two seats for
the midnight premier tonight.

Want to come?

Oh, David, I'd love to.

Pick you up after the show?

Gorgeous!

That'll give us time to eat first.

Mm hmm.

Listen, I must dash.

- David?
- Yes?

Good luck.

Thank you.

- Oh.
- Oh.

- David?
- Yes?

Come in.

You wanted me, sir?

Yes.

You'd better take off your coat.

Prentice, your program's going bad on us.

Listen to this.

Divinely happy and divinely dull.

Simon and Laura have shown viewers

how sublime their marriage is.

They've done it well.

We believe them.

But where do we go from here?

I, for one, to the cinema.

Oh, dear.

And listen to this, from
a woman correspondent.

Too often is the screen filled

by the handsome profile of Simon Foster

murmuring sugary sentiments to his wife.

Thank heavens we're not
all so happily married

as Simon and Laura.

Sometimes, surely, it's the faults

in our men that we love.

But Simon's fundamentally nice, sir.

We can't play him against type.

Then play him down.

Cut out his profile.

Cut him out all together.

Some new blood in the
programme might help.

And that script needs pepping up too.

Tell Miss Honeyman to
read "Forever Amber."

Sir!

Yes?

Hello, David.

You sound very het up.

I am het up.

So would you be.

Look, Laura, are you alone?

Well, yes, quite alone.

What is it, something to
do with the programme?

Oh, don't tell me a spaniel has turned up.

Oh no, it's nothing like that.

But it's something I've got

to discuss with you, Laura, alone.

No.

Now look, above all, Simon mustn't know.

Can you have dinner with
me tonight after the show?

Oh, Lord, well, can't you get out of it?

I'm gonna have to cut a date myself.

That's my Laura.

Look, darling, we'll
go somewhere very quiet

where we're not likely to
run into anybody we know.

Yes, we don't want the tom toms to start.

All right, and remember,
not a word to Simon.

Of course not.

Goodbye, David.

Ah, there you are.

I've been looking for you everywhere.

Really?

Found some cheerful
music for our next episode?

Yes, "March to the Scaffold."

Oh.

Um, Janet, about our date tonight.

Yes?

I'm terribly afraid I
shan't be able to make it.

Why not?

Well, I'm working on
something for the CT.

Beastly nuisance, but he insisted.

But the premier isn't
till midnight, is it?

Uh, uh, no, but,

well, it'll probably take me all night.

Hmm, that's what I thought.

Yes, well, I shall just have to snatch

a sandwich and carry on.

But you could pull up
the stars, I take it.

I beg your pardon?

You must think I'm a clot.

I run your errands, I write your script,

I even darn your socks for you!

And then you stand me up for a...

Now, look, darling, don't get me wrong.

Wrong?

Do you think I don't know what's going on?

I wasn't born yesterday, you know.

Oh.

Then it must've been the day before!

Oh!

All right.

Have you seen Laura?

She's changing.

She won't be a minute.

Oh.

I wanted a quick word with her.

The CT wants her to do
an "In Town Tonight"

a Saturday week.

Oh, Lord, do we have to?

Oh, well, not both of you, just Laura.

Why just Laura?

Because the winner of the
best Christmas pudding recipe

happens to be Laura Foster
of Newcastle-under-Lyme,

and the prize was a visit to the studio

and a meeting with a star.

Uh huh.

So naturally, she chose her namesake.

If Laura wants to muck up her weekend,

she's perfectly welcome.

Exactly.

And you can enjoy watching her

from your own far side.

We haven't got a set.

Good Lord, why ever not?

What would we do with one?

We can't watch our own programmes.

- Darling.
- Uh huh?

Um, I've got a splitting headache.

I really couldn't face going out tonight.

You haven't had any dinner.

Well, I couldn't eat a thing.

But you must.

Oh.

Well, if you've really got a headache.

Well, I can easily take

- a taxi home.
- No, no, no, look,

I'll, well, I'll drop you off.

I'm going that way.

- Would you really?
- Mm.

That's awfully good of you, old boy.

I'll have a bite at the club.

Fine.

Goodnight, my love.

Hope your head's better in the morning.

Oh, so do I,

but at the moment, it's
throbbing like a dynamo.

Lovely performance, darling.

Thank you.

Have you got a moment, Simon?

Ah.

I always have a moment
for a charming lady.

What's wrong?

Oh, there's nothing wrong.

I really wanted to talk
to you about your part.

Oh, what about it?

Well, I seem to have run out of ideas.

I wondered if you could
give me a new line to go on.

You know, tell me about yourself.

The other side of you, so to speak.

I'd be delighted.

When?

Well, I thought as soon as possible.

You see, I'm stuck already.

Well, what are you
doing for dinner tonight?

Well, I did have a date,

but, if you're free,
I'll break if, of course.

Oh no, I don't want you to do that.

Oh, but I must.

This is important.

I'll meet you at the main
door in three minutes.

Now, come on, David.

What did you want to talk to me about?

Oh.

Well, um.

It's a little difficult
to know how to begin.

You see, Laura, you're
such a splendid person,

so very loyal and very kind.

What I'm about to suggest,

I'm a little afraid is going
to make you very cross.

It's something to do
with Simon, isn't it?

How did you guess?

I have an intuition about these things.

What about him?

Well, dear Laura, what would you say

if something were to happen to him?

Well, you know, like having an accident

or something like that?

I mean, just suppose that
he wasn't there anymore.

Well, would you, would you mind awfully?

Mind?

Oh, David, of course I'd mind.

Then I heard the croupier say

I had to turn away.

I couldn't watch.

And suddenly he said...

And I gathered in my winnings.

My hands were trembling,

but I knew what I had to do,

and I did it.

I put it all on 17,

and then I waited, absolutely petrified.

17 came up.

Now came the problem.

According to the system,
I should put it all

on number seven.

If I lost, I'd already won enough

to pay my bill and get back to England.

But if seven came up,

I stood to win a fortune.

So what did you do?

I put it all on number seven.

And it came up?

No.

I lost the lost.

Now look, David, I'm very
fond of you, very fond.

Simon, that's something very different.

Yes, but, look, isn't
there just a chance

that if I handled it very delicately...

I think you'd better take me home.

But I haven't nearly finished
what I was going to say.

Oh.

Oh, I'm terribly.

Look, Laura, we can't possibly talk here.

Why not come back to my
flat and have a nightcap.

It's only in Hellum Street.

All right, but you've got
to promise you'll be good.

Well, I'll be as good as I can.

But how on earth did
you get back to England?

Well, I was forced to borrow
some money from a friend.

Oh, I'm sorry.

That's enough about me.

If you knew how I hated
talking about myself.

Oh, but it's been so exciting.

You've given me, oh, 100 ideas.

Well, you're a wonderful listener.

In fact, you're a wonderful
person all together.

Wouldn't it be marvellous
to be in Monte Carlo now?

Marvellous.

Of course, these days,
you can fly there and back

in no time at all.

I've got loads of friends who
go over just for the weekend.

Janet, what a wonderful idea!

Why don't you and I pop over next weekend.

Oh, Simon.

Oh, but Laura.

Well, she's tied up
with "In Town Tonight."

Wouldn't she mind?

Need she know?

Well, I'd have to think about it.

Say yes.

Then we can try out my new system.

Another of the interesting people

who is in town tonight
is Mr. Peter Harbottle.

Good evening, Mr. Harbottle.

Good evening.

I understand that you
came to be the first man

to cross the English Channel in a barrel.

Is that right?

That is correct.

Well, it must have been most exciting.

Oh, no, it was very tedious.

Really?

Oh, yes.

Water.

Water everywhere.

Oh, but surely it was pretty dangerous.

Oh, yes, definitely.

When did you first get this idea?

Well, it wasn't my idea.

It was the wife's idea.

Oh, well, that explains every.

Thank you very much,
indeed, Mr. Harbottle.

- Thank you very much.
- Thank you.

Oh, I'm sorry.

We're very glad to welcome

our final guest tonight,

who is none other than the famous

stage, screen and television
star, Laura Foster.

Hello, Laura, nice to see you.

Hello, John.

And we'd also like to welcome

the other Miss Laura Foster,

who's come all the way
from Newcastle-under-Lyme

to shake her famous namesake by the hand.

Hello, and how do you do.

Pleased to meet you, I'm sure.

Laura, doesn't it feel rather strange

to be working without your famous husband?

Well, yes, it does, John, really.

But you see, Simon's away
having a change of air.

May I ask where he's gone?

Between ourselves, to
his mother's in Leicester.

Oh.

Haven't you something rather interesting

to tell us about the Christmas edition

of "Simon and Laura?"

Yes, you see, they've
decided to televise

it from our own home
instead of the studio.

There's going to be a party afterwards.

Oh, so the viewers
will have an opportunity

of meeting a lot of other famous stars.

That's right.

Laura, how do you feel about having

your house invaded by a
lot of TV technicians?

I think it'll be rather fun.

George, come
back as soon as you've got

the cable hooked up!

Then we'll check the link up.

Timothy!

Leave that alone!

Why?

It's jolly interesting.

You'd be better occupied
learning your script.

Yesterday, you fluffed twice.

Only because Daddy
gave me the wrong cues.

Oh, that remind me.

There's a change for
tonight that affects you.

Laura isn't allowed to say you're having

a lovely romp with Angela.

Why not?

Well, you see, romp can mean...

Oh, I'll explain when you're a bit older.

Come on.

Hello, darling.

I'm having such a time.

Jolly good.

Oh, Jessie, would you ask Mrs. Foster

if I can come up for a moment?

I want to go over some cuts with her.

And oughtn't you to be getting ready?

I'm not in tonight's instalment.

Oh no, of course not.

I suppose I'm too useful
makin' tea for the engineers.

Laura isn't here, is she?

No.

Good.

Why good?

She doesn't like me.

Nonsense, we're both devoted to you.

Well, I heard her say I was

the last straw that
broke the camel's back.

Funny how they can't take it.

Who, camels?

No, women.

Take what?

Us, child actors.

Men are different.

Men don't seem to mind so much.

I suppose it's 'cause they don't realise

we're pinching all their scenes from them.

They're not a bit intuitive.

What do you mean?

Well, take you.

You haven't noticed that the camera's

on Laura the whole time now.

Last night, you only got one close up

in the whole of the show.

Really?

And that was the back of your head.

My mother said she
could see your bald spot

as plain as anything.

I can't wait to meet your mother.

She's coming to the party
tonight after the show.

Good.

And another thing, why do you think

they've changed that opening shot?

In the embrace, it always used to be you

who were facing the camera.

Now it's Laura.

I can only assume it's
because she hasn't a bald spot.

Oh, Laura, it's beautiful.

It is nice, isn't it?

Tomorrow morning, alas, it goes back

from whence it came.

Oh.

I've come to tell you
the censors made a cut.

You can't use the word romp.

Really?

Ooh, that's a filthy lie.

What is?

Simon Foster gave Laura a
Parker '51 for her birthday.

How's then, how's Monte?

Monte who?

Monte Carlo?

I beg your pardon?

Monte Carlo, it's a seaside
resort in Southern France.

It has the casinos and
very accommodating hotels.

You flew there on Friday
after the show with Simon.

How was it?

It rained.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

And how did you find
that out, Scotland Yard?

The French Surety?

Or your own private sense of smell?

No, a friend of Sybil Hunter's saw you.

And with the loyalty
peculiar to cast offs,

she was on the blower like a shot.

Then there's no point in denying it.

None at all.

Did you know that before this programme

of ours started, Simon
and I were breaking up?

Vaguely.

Well, we were.

And because we needed the money,

we decided to stay put,
purely for business reasons.

But it worked.

It worked surprisingly well.

You don't think the scripts

might have had something to do with it?

I don't mean the damn scripts, silly,

I meant us, Simon and me.

Oh.

So you can imagine
that when those bright,

beady little eyes of yours focused

not on Simon but on David,

oh, I was very, very relieved.

Bright blue beady little
eyes, if you don't mind.

Then round about instalment
170 something happened.

I don't know whether you found David

a little dull, or you realised he was

really married to the BBC,

but those bright blue
beady little eyes of yours

wandered off him and onto Simon.

Because they realised
that David was madly

interested in you, and you were using

every trick of the trade to get him.

How dare you!

You are paid to start acting at 8:15

when the programme goes on the air.

There's no need to begin at 7:45,

especially with me.

Have another drink?

No, thank you.

Very wise.

One's enough before the show.

May I come in?

Yes.

- Hello, Janet.
- Hello.

Oh, darling, I forgot to ask you,

how was your mother's
arthritis last weekend?

All right, thank you.

Was she able to get up
from the tables all right?

Tables?

Mm hmm, the gambling
tables, dear, Monte Carlo.

You've had your little say, Laura.

Now I'll have mine.

In fact, I'll trade you Monte Carlo

- for 43A Hellum Street.
- For what?

43A Hellum Street,
David's flat, last Thursday,

headache night.

Remember?

David's flat?

Mm, round about the
witching hour of midnight.

And witching or no witching,

it didn't need Sybil Hunter's broomstick

to find that out.

I live at 43B.

Is this true, Laura?

We were discussing the script.

Huh.

Could I come in?

Why not, let 'em all come.

Hello, Simon.

Hello, Janet.

Hello.

Laura.

Darling, you look wonderful.

Happy Christmas.

Ah.

Well, it's quite an occasion, isn't it?

Do, um, you know who's coming out

to have a drink with us after the show

if he can get away?

CT.

Well, what's the matter?

Has one of the camera's gone again?

Prentice, did my wife
spend Thursday night

in your flat?

Part of it, yes.

Thank you.

I just wanted to know.

Oh, well really, Simon.

Well, you don't think.

Well, I admire you two more than any

other couple I know.

Couple?

I don't remember being included

in the invitation to Hellum Street!

But it's because you're so sincere

with each other and happy that...

Oh, David, for heaven's sake,

don't start that!

Hear, hear.

Don't start what?

Pretending that Simon and I are happy.

We're not happy!

We never have been happy!

We get on each other's nerves.

We scream at each other like fish wives.

We're a couple of actors who took on a job

because we needed the money!

And we are apparently good
enough to fool the public,

but please don't confuse us

with the Simon and Laura in the programme.

Unless of course you're thinking

of an instalment where my husband

goes off for a gay weekend
with your scriptwriter.

With Janet?

They're waiting for you
downstairs, Mr. Prentice.

And you, sir and madam.

You're on in five minutes.

Testing, 1, 2, 3, 4,

5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

Okay for sound.

- All right, tip that 39 up.
- Testing again.

Eeny meeny miny moe

catch a monkey by his toe.

Okay.

Happy Christmas.

- Merry Christmas, Laura.
- Jolly good luck.

With the compliments of
the backroom boys, Mrs. F.

Barney, how sweet of you.

Simon and Laura, peace
and goodwill, and, and...

Oh, blast, my makeup.

Here, you take, take it.

Anything the matter?

No, no, she's just touched
by this gesture of yours.

Thank you, Barney.

Thanks.

Give us your cue line, Harry.

Okay, now the other one.

- Fine, thanks.
- Put 79 on again, lads.

Any changes in the
script, Miss Honeyman?

Dozens, I'll give them to you.

If you're thinking of making any changes

in the scriptwriter,
I'll quite understand.

Give us your lights please, Harry.

Hold that position there, David.

I just want to check.

Okay.

Why didn't you tell us when we offered

you the job that you
weren't happily married?

Oh, hell.

Okay, Harry, save 'em.

Give us all your number twos.

I'm not at all sure that the corporation

hasn't got a case against you two.

Would you mind turning
around and smiling

for a second, Mr. Foster?

Okay, swell.

I don't know what to do now.

We can't go on in this situation.

Insincerity's the one thing you can't

get away with on TV.

We seemed to have managed
pretty well up till now.

Mr. Prentice?

Yes?

Would you mind standing
in for Mrs. Foster,

just for the opening shot,
you know, the embrace?

Oh, all right.

Would you mind, Mr. Foster?

Not at all.

Hello, Simon.

Hello, Laura.

You know, darling, you look
very attractive in tails.

You know, darling, you look
very attractive in anything.

Okay, that's fine.

Thanks a lot.

I need a drink.

Simon.

Save your lights, Harry.

On the diving board.

Ought you to before the show?

Yes.

Little ironical that tonight's script

is the first one in which you and Laura

are supposed to have a quarrel.

You won't let anything that's happened

affect things, will you?

Don't worry, we won't throw crockery

and four-letter words at each other

in front of the camera.

Oh.

I don't know whether to tell DTD or not.

You know what the corporation
is over anything like this.

He's a JP too.

Who is?

DTD.

Oh, is he?

Laura will be all right
for the show, won't she?

Don't worry.

She once played Cleopatra
with a broken ankle,

laryngitis, and the hiccups.

She'll be all right.

She's a very old trooper.

Oh, good.

Four minutes to go, boss.

Everything's
okay, Mr. Prentice.

There won't be any trouble tonight.

I hope you're right.

Timothy!

I told you before to leave that alone.

Now, go and see to your makeup.

It's terrible.

Go on, hop it.

I say, aren't you gonna get made up?

I am made up.

What are you and Laura
going to say instead of romp?

I don't know.

I expect something will occur to us.

Laura was at the Cafe de
Paris we him on Saturday night.

Him?

David!

How do you know that?

My mother took me to meet
an American film director.

They were in the balcony.

Is that so?

When the cabaret's on,
it's darker in the balcony.

I am perfectly well aware

of the lighting arrangements
at the Cafe de Paris.

Thank you.

Well, I think you should
do something about it.

Kick up a stink, you know.

Thank you, Timothy, for the benefit

of your experience in these matters.

Mr. Foster, please.

You're on in one minute.

Right.

Well, well, well.

Hello, David.

Many congratulations.

Oh, thank you, Bertie.

Mind if we stick around
and watch the show?

No, of course not,
as long as you keep out

of the way and stay quiet.

Oh, we'll be quiet as mice.

Won't we darling?

You all right, Wilson?

Yeah.

Simon, my dear fellow,
all the very best.

You know Miss Dowrimple?

Madam.

How many have you had?

48 doubles.

Do you mind?

Laura, what a vision.

Now, what's that you're drinking?

Gargle.

Oh, Mabel.

Here, take these away for heaven's sake.

All right, quiet everyone.

- Okay.
- Right, thank you, Barney.

Now, don't overdo the quarrel scene.

Just play it naturally.

All right, places, please,
for the opening shot.

Now, go and sit down.

Please sit down, Bertie.

Other way round.

- Why?
- Well, because David

wants it that way.

For 194 performances,
it's been this way around.

Why did he suddenly change
it one day last week, eh?

Friday, it was.

Friday morning rehearsal.

Sit down and don't butt in.

I think it more effective with Laura

facing the camera, Simon.

- Oh, you do, do you?
- Yes.

There's nothing personal about it.

It just, well, it makes a
better picture, that's all.

I see.

Announcement and
opening music coming up.

All right, quiet everyone.

Now, take a cue from me, Laura darling.

Good luck.

Tonight, we present the
special Christmas instalment

of our nightly serial, "Simon and Laura."

Hello, Simon.

Hello, Laura.

You know, darling,

you look very attractive in tails.

You know, darling,

you look very attractive in anything.

Flatterer.

Oh, I do hope Timothy's going
to like his Christmas tree.

How well I remember the first one I had

when I was a little girl.

I thought it was a magic tree.

How glorious is the innocent
imagination of childhood?

Every star seemed real,

the tinsel was snow,

the jewels were baubles
from Aladdin's cave.

You know, Laura
darling, sometimes I think

you remained a child.

That was a damn silly thing to do.

Shut up.

# Good King Wenceslas looked out #

# On the feast of Stephen #

Listen.

# When the snow lay round about #

How charming it is.

# Deep and crisp and even #

# And even #

I love the way they keep repeating

that little twiddly bit.

Darling, we must give them something.

# Brightly shown the moon that night #

# Though the frost was cruel #

# When the poor man came in sight #

# Gathering winter fuel #

# Hither, page, and stand by me #

# If thou know it telling #

Wilson?

Yes, Master Tim?

Are all married people as
happy as Mummy and Daddy?

I doubt it, Master Tim.

I very much doubt it.

I've never heard a
harsh word between them.

I beg pardon, madam.

I didn't hear you come in.

What have you and Daddy

been doing in the lounge, Mummy?

Ah, that would be telling.

Why can't I go in there?

A surprise, darling.

I wish it wasn't only
going to be grownups

at the party tonight.

Never mind.

Tomorrow, little Angela's coming for tea,

and you'll be able to
have a lovely r-romp...

- Game.
- Party.

Frolic with her.

The Foster residence.

Hold on, please, miss.

A Miss Mortimer to speak to you, sir.

Oh, thank you, Wilson.

I'll take it in the library.

Do you mind, darling?

Not at all.

It's a personal matter.

Hold on, please, miss.

Why didn't Daddy
take it in here, Mummy?

I don't know, dear.

Was it something
he didn't want you to hear?

I suppose it must've been, darling.

A secret?

Perhaps.

But I thought married people

never had secrets from one another.

Not real ones.

Why don't you listen

and find out what Daddy's secret is?

Because that would be deceitful, Tim,

and Mummy trusts Daddy.

Do you?

Implicitly.

Now, you run along with
Wilson like a good boy.

And Laura need never know.

All right, same time, same place.

Tuesday, my dear.

Goodbye, and bless you for everything.

Simon?

Now you're for it.

Right here's the missus.

Shh, shut up, Bert.

Who is Miss Mortimer?

No one, darling.

She must be someone, darling.

Well, nobody who need concern you.

This is so unlike you, Simon.

You're usually so frank and open.

You have a guilty look, darling.

Who is she?

I'm sorry, I can't tell you.

Why not?

'Cause it's something
I don't want you to know.

Oh, like Monte Carlo.

Good grief, Timothy was right.

What are you talking about?

You, nag, nag, nag.

Pick, pick, pick.

Question, question, question.

Worrying every possible piece of scandal

like a she-dog with a bone.

Are you calling me a...

Well, this time,
you won't get away with it.

Get away with what?

Acting as if you've got a halo,

then sneaking around to
Hellum Street behind my back.

Simon.

Shut up!

Monte Carlo to you!

And you can't ram that
down my throat, either.

Kneesy kneesy to you.

Kneesy kneesy?

Yes, under the table
at the Cafe de Paris.

Who told you that?

A little bird, I suppose.

No, a little rat!

You're drunk.

And I suppose you're not?

Are you suggesting that I...

Are sozzled, yes.

And squinting like mad.

You always squint when you're sozzled.

How dare you.

Cut it, cut it!

I'll show you how sober I am.

Aye, aye.

Simon, please.

Teach you to hit me, you...

Simon!

Go on hit him, champ!

Surely, man.

That's right, side with the man

which strikes his wife.

That's the only way to treat 'em.

I'd like to see you try it.

I will if you don't shut up!

For this, Simon.

And now you're going to get yours.

- Ooh.
- Ooh.

Don't you dare hit Simon!

Simon!

Ooh, he's drawn blood.

Use your left!

Short arm jabs, short arm jabs.

That's right, Gran.

Short arm jabs, short arm jabs.

You shut up, Bert.

Don't you come that
stuff with me, my girl,

or I'll one on you.

You try it.

Go on, just try it, you right lout.

All right, I will.

And you shut up too!

Ooh!

Simon!

# Good King Wenceslas looked out #

Simon
# On the feast of Stephen #

# When the snow lay round about #

# Deep and crisp and even #

How dare you.

# And even #

Stop!

# And even #

# And #

Will you two.

Do you mind?

David.

David, we've been on the air all the time!

What?

I'm terribly sorry, David.

I could have sworn we switched off.

Oh, forget it, Barney.

We're all in this together now.

Hello, yes.

Oh, yes, sir.

Yes, sir, one sec.

David, it's, it's the CT, for you.

Oh, my hat.

H... hello, sir.

Congratulations, my boy.

Wonderful stuff.

You see, I was right.

The moment you took my advice,

the whole thing comes to life.

Oh, oh, thank you very much, sir.

Oh, of course not, sir.

We think tomorrow's is better still.

By the way, who played that handsome,

rugged type who came in
and gave Simon the KO?

Don't remember seeing him before.

Oh, a new chap, sir.

I got him from a rep at short notice.

No, I'm afraid not, sir.

Off to the States in the
morning, films, you know.

Of course, sir.

Thank you so much, sir.

Goodbye, sir.

Are we all fired?

Fired?

He's delighted.

He said it was the best script yet.

Keep it up to that standard.

He wants another one
just like it tomorrow.

Another just like that?

Oh!

Oh.

Oh.

TV's best ever, and I wasn't in it.

Any sign of Mr. and Mrs. Foster yet?

No.

You've no idea where they can be?

None at all.

Madam left the house last night.

The master went out
first thing this morning.

Bet you don't turn up.

Am I in it today?

Yes, Jessie.

Only just.

Not quite as
full-blooded as last night.

Well, it's up to you

to put the blood in it again, David.

Any sign of them?

I'm afraid not.

Oh, this is terrible.

What are we going to do?

Hanged if I know.

Look, go back and tell
the rest of the cast

we start rehearsals in half an hour,

and don't let them get worried.

Oh, sorry.

Simon!

Where's Laura?

Well, isn't she with you?

Does it look like it?

We've been looking for you both.

Changes in the script.

Hang the script!

Laura's gone, she's vanished.

- What?
- I've rung the Baxter's.

I've rung the Hunter's.

I've rung everybody.

Well, she must be somewhere.

Think, man.

I am thinking.

What about tonight's show?

Do you think I'm going to go in front

of a camera with this?

Oh.

Oh, my hat.

Janet, write it into the script.

Oh well, really!

Hello?

Bertie!

Well, don't just stand
there, man, find Laura.

I'll ring my mother.

There's a good chance she may be there.

Hello, Bertie.

Look, Simon's just
turned up but not Laura.

Any news of her?

No, not a thing.

Offers have been pouring in.

What a show, what a performance!

But can I find her, no!

Yes.

David, David, you must tell me one thing.

Who was Miss Mortimer?

Look, see tonight's instalment,

and you'll find out.

Goodbye, Bertie.

I'm busy.

I'd better run through
the script with Simon.

Okay?

Yes, okay.

Listen, all you've
said at regular intervals

for the last five minutes is hold on.

In times of national crisis,

that is a remark I will take

From Mr. Churchill and Mr. Churchill only.

Now, please, get me Leicester 2874.

What make you think Laura's
gone to your mother's?

Because it's the sort of damn fool thing

she would do.

They get on well?

Get on well?

They're having the time of their lives

sitting halfway up the chimney

swilling tea and listing my misdemeanours.

How's the eye?

It's throbbing nicely, thank you.

I was amazed at David.

I was a little taken aback myself.

He's usually so calm.

And then suddenly, wham!

Bless him.

What do you mean bless him?

Hello?

Hello, Mother.

How are you?

How's your back?

How is your back, dear?

Are you all right?

You sound a bit peculiar.

Simon, dear.

What?

Oh, I beg your pardon.

Good day.

That was Chester 2874, Mrs. Grant.

How is her back?

She seemed fairly satisfied.

T-R-U

Have you got designs on David?

Of course.

There's a man from "Woman's
Own" to see you, sir.

Tell him I can't see anybody.

That's practically true.

Jessie suggests raw liver.

What, for lunch?

No, your eye, sir.

That would fascinate
the viewers, wouldn't it?

Come on, come on, come on.

I suppose the only reason you came

to Monte Carlo with me
was to make David jealous.

No, to try and make Laura lay off.

Well, you've succeeded.

She's laying off the lot of us.

Woman, I asked you for Leicester 2874.

I don't care if you are a different woman.

Prove your superiority over the other one

by getting me Leicester 2874.

Thank you.

What did she say?

Hold on again.

Any news?

- No.
- No.

Had a look at the new stuff yet?

I have not.

I am holding on, with difficulty.

You really ought to
get down to it, you know.

Why?

You've only shot the back of my head

for the past few weeks,

and I could read my lines.

Foster!

I am in no mood for another argument.

I've already hit you once.

I regret having done so,
because I'm a pacifist,

but if you don't stop
behaving like a tetchy

two year old, I shall do so again.

Bless you.

And I have few words to
say to you in a moment.

I am sick and tired of
star actors and actresses.

I can think of only one

in the last 30 years
with whom I'd be willing

to spend the rest of my days,

and, unfortunately, he's dead.

Who's that?

Rin-Tin-Tin.

Ha ha ha.

Oh, Mr. Prentice, can I have a word

with you about the script?

In my office in 10 minutes.

How's your eye, Dad?

I brought chorizo to put on it.

Get out!

I believed in this programme.

I thought we had two people in it

who were examples of what a decent,

ordinary married couple should be,

even if they were on the stage.

Yes, well, I should have checked up.

Unfortunately, on a BBC salary,

you don't eat in the restaurants

where you can check up
on those sort of things.

Yes, it's quite all right, thank you.

I'm listening to a talk on the BBC.

But I could not
believe that you could be

so blatantly deceitful yourself.

Well, now you're just being a bore!

There was a time when you seemed

willing to share my
particular brand of boredom.

A cracking, pompous bore!

Hello, Mother?

- How are you, dear?
- Well, at least I have

a few moral qualms about spending

an illicit weekend with a married man.

- I should hope so.
- How's your back?

- How is your back, dear?
- You condemn me

for having a mild flirtation with Simon.

- Is Laura with you?
- And yet you've been

doing exactly the same thing with Laura.

- She's not?
- Laura was in need

of a bit of comfort and companionship!

Hooey!

There's only one thing
Laura was in need of!

- Quiet!
- Oh.

It's all right, darling,
just some people jabbering.

What?

You didn't enjoy last night's instalment?

Neither did we much.

Look, if Laura turns
up, get her to phone me.

Yes, she's walked out on me.

Well, I.

Yes, dear, but.

Well, I know it may be my fault,

but I love her very, very
much, and I want her back.

Oh, those were three of the quickest pips

in the history of the Post Office.

No, darling, it's this exchange.

They've got something against me.

Goodbye, darling.

Take care of yourself.

Take care of your!

Oh, never mind.

Laura!

Where on earth have you been?

David, I'm sorry I'm late, but I...

We've been looking everywhere for you.

The CT wanted a lot of alterations made

to tonight's script.

I'll get Janet to bring you one along.

Get me Mr. Foster's dressing
room, will you please?

She's not at my mother's.

Laura!

Now where have you been?

To a solicitor and a
commissioner for oaths.

- Oh.
- It was the soliciting

side of the business I was interested in.

I don't think you need much
help in the matter of oaths.

Laura!

And who, might I ask, have
you been soliciting now?

I'm getting a divorce.

You ought to put something on that eye,

some meat of some kind.

But, Laura darling, you can't.

Can't what?

Get a divorce.

If you think there was
a shortage of evidence,

I can assure you that Sybil Hunter's charm

was both thorough and
efficient last weekend

at Monte Carlo.

But, but think of the programme.

The viewers would never stand for it.

Oh, damn the viewers!

What a terrible thing to say.

Come in.

Oh, it's you.

Yes.

And I've got something to say to you.

Janet, I, I really don't
think I want to hear it.

It's just that if you
think you can get a divorce

because of what happened in Monte Carlo,

you're very much mistaken.

My information was that you and Simon

had rooms 100 and 101.

That's right.

That was very convenient, wasn't it?

Not really.

Well, at least it was
adjacent, wasn't it?

Not even that.

Your informant should have checked up

on the layout as well as the register.

There are 100 rooms on each floor.

Room 100 is on the first floor front,

facing the sea.

Room 101 is on the second floor back,

facing the gasometer,
the marshalling yards,

and a church with jangliest
bells in Southern France.

I was in 101.

But not alone?

Quite alone.

Approximately 15 seconds after unpacking

his sponge bag, Simon left for the casino.

He came back at two in the morning.

He was seen heading straight
for the marshalling yards.

Yes, to borrow money.

If Sybil Hunter's private eye

had hovered just two minutes longer

in that corridor, she'd have seen him

streaking back to the casino at a speed

faster than sound with my francs.

He stayed there until after breakfast.

If you think I'm gonna believe all this

and say all right, let's
forget the whole thing,

you're very much mistaken.

I'm going ahead with my divorce.

But, Laura, think of the show.

I am thinking of it,

and if you'll leave me alone,

I'll get on with learning this
revolting script of yours.

But.

Oh, what's the use?

Tea, madam.

Shall I call Master
Timothy and Miss Angela?

Thank you, Wilson.

No lines again today.

So you see, Miss Mortimer was merely

an elderly masseuse.

A masseuse, why didn't you tell me?

Because I didn't want
to worry you with me.

Just a touch of arthritis.

And Monte Carlo?

A semi-detached villa in Kensington.

Darling.

Hello, dears, having a nice time?

Yes, Mummy.

We just had a lovely romp.

Er, frolic.

All right, half and
hour's break for tea,

then we'll run through it again.

Will you have it
here, sir or with madam?

Here.

Thank you, Wilson.

I suppose you could do with a cup?

I certainly could.

Shall I be mom?

Please do, no sugar.

Timothy, leave that camera alone.

I was only trying to...

Well, buzz off.

Come on, get going.

Sandwich?

No, thank you.

They're meat paste.

I suppose you'd like
me to put one on my eye.

Look, can't you forget that?

No, nor can I forget what happened

at Hellum Street on Thursday.

Crumpet?

Thanks, I'll have a bit.

David, what did happen at your flat?

Well, we had a couple of drinks.

And then?

Well then I made the
suggestion to Laura...

What suggestion?

Oh, this is awful.

Look, I'm terribly sorry, Simon...

It's too late to be sorry!

What suggestion?

That you should be taken
out of the programme.

What?

Well, there have been a
good many complaints, Simon.

You know, about, well, about
some of your mannerisms.

Mannerisms?

I haven't any mannerisms.

What was to happen to me?

You were to meet with an accident.

An accident?

You were to be run over.

Run over?

The idea was that you were to be

dangerously ill in a nursing home

for 12 instalments and then die.

We were a little bit worried

about your funeral because it clashed

with "Radio Olympia."

And Laura agreed to all this?

She didn't like the idea of
wearing black in the programme.

I promised her it would
only be for six weeks.

And then she was to meet Alec Guinness.

Are you all right, Simon?

Yes, I'm just trying to
visualise my funeral on TV.

It would be in
perfect taste, of course,

a real tear-jerker.

A procession of
broken-hearted celebrities.

Angel voices off, the Welsh Girl's Choir.

Any flowers?

Masses of them.

That's one thing you could
never complain about,

a sensational exit at the very peak

of your popularity.

I mean, what more could you want?

I'll have another cup of tea, please.

Hello.

Mrs. Foster?

You're wanted in room 23.

23 right away, please.

All right.

Miss Honeyman speaking.

You're wanted
in room 23, urgent, miss.

Okay.

The one thing
I simply can't understand

is you and Janet going off like that.

I've already told you, old boy.

It was nothing at all.

It was just a bit of
a flutter, that's all.

Yes, I've made love to Laura.

Oh, if you can call an occasional kiss

and a rather clumsy attempt to show

a little sympathy making love.

Yes, I've done that.

I never wanted to come between you.

Why, splitting up you two would be

like splitting up Abbott and Costello.

No similarity whatsoever.

- Did you send for me?
- Shh!

Are you in love with Janet?

I suppose I am.

She certainly excites me a great deal.

I never felt that way
about any woman before.

What way?

Well, every time I'm alone with her,

I feel, well, unsure of myself.

It's very disturbing.

I suppose it's glandular.

Well, there's no
need to go into details.

Glandular!

She's a very wonderful person.

Oh, but I know it would never work out.

Why not?

I'll have another cup of tea.

Well, obviously, she doesn't love me.

Oh, I know we'd never make a go of it.

Well, judging by the
shouting match this morning,

I'd say there's every chance.

No sugar.

I'm sorry.

I'll have another bit of crumpet.

You know, this has been
a bit of a facer for me.

It's the first time Laura's
ever walked out on me,

and I don't like it.

I wouldn't tell her this for the world,

but every time we've
been separated before,

life has been quite unbearable.

You really are in
love with her, old boy.

Of course I am!

She's down-to-earth and
honest and practical.

She's good fun.

She's highly decorative.

She's good to have around the house.

She's...

Well, she's my sort.

There's just one thing I
forgot to tell you, Simon.

She phoned me up on Friday morning

to say she didn't agree
to your being run over.

No hard feelings, eh?

No hard feelings.

David!

Oh!

Simon!

Simon!

Laura!

Oh, darling.

Okay, cut.