Good evening.
Good evening, good evening.
Hello, chaps.
Thank you for coming.
Now then, we have a long way to go,
so... er... keep your powder dry.
Righty-ho...
settle down, now.
# I'm mad about the boy
# I know it's stupid to be
mad about the boy
# I'm so ashamed of it,
but must admit
# The sleepless nights
I've had about the boy
# On the silver screen
# He melts my foolish heart
in every single scene
# Although I'm quite aware
# That here and there are traces...
of the cad about the boy
# And Lord knows, I'm not a fool girl
# I really shouldn't care
# Lord knows, I'm not a schoolgirl
# In the flurry of her first affair
# Will it ever cloy, this odd diversity
of misery and joy?
# I'm feeling quite insane
and young again
# And all because I'm mad
about the boy
# I'm feeling quite insane
and young again
# And all because I'm...
#... mad about the boy #
She's the first lady racer.
- But she didn't actually win.
She crossed the line first.
It's so exciting.
Not nearly as exciting
as crossing your mother.
I think we can all ignore that.
Oh, what is that man doing?
Jackson!
Madam?
- What did I tell you?
Put the camellias by the front door
before the guests arrive!
Furber.
- Madam?
Salvage any of Jackson's appalling
pruning and send it to Mrs Holborough
who's kindly offered up a leg of mutton
for dinner, which you'll fetch, Marion.
But Reverend Burton has asked me
My hands are clearly full.
- I'll go.
Uncle George has posted
the most grizzly clippings
of the Valentine's Day Massacre!
Hilda.
Seven terrified men cut down
in a hail of automatic gun fire!
Made worse by the strays that
came to lap the curdled blood.
Hilda...
- The Devil Dogs! The Hounds of Hell!
The leg of lamb! Now.
Why we try and marry her off to gentry
when plainly she'd prefer an undertaker.
Seating. I'm putting Sarah on your left
and Philip on your right,
so please try and make an effort
to be civil.
Right... I shall go and brush up
on my very small talk.
It might be an awkward meal.
For all we know Sarah's grazing
in greener pastures.
Whilst your brother sows his wild oats
in the South of France with his floozy?
No. We'll keep the home fires burning
until his highness wanders home.
Hmm. Like father did?
Yes. Like your father did.
I've got news, everybody!
You all right, sir?
- No. Are you?
Coping, sir.
- Hear, hear. Well done.
Well done? They look like
they're waiting for a firing squad.
Can't you make them more relaxed?
- Last meal and a cigarette, perhaps?
I can't believe it. You'll never guess.
Houdini escaped the Chinese water
torture only to die of a burst appendix.
How ghastly!
Oh, and Mother's got a telegram.
"Mr and Mrs Whittaker". Your mother.
What's it say, Father?
Perhaps your mother
should read this first.
Oh! That stupid, stupid, stupid boy!
What's happened?
Has there been an accident?
It's John, he's married that f-f-f...
- Francophile?
F-f-f...
- Photographer?
Pharmacist?
- Why are you smirking?
Deploying a smile. One member
of this family may actually be happy.
Don't be absurd! We don't know
anything about this woman. Furber!
Furber!
Oh, not again!
- Madam.
Lord have mercy.
Mister John is coming home with his...
with his wife.
Yes. Their bags have just arrived.
Congratulations, Madam.
I'll be the judge of that. Clear up this
mess and get Cook to send up a ham.
This is from Dover. They'll be half way.
- Yes, Furber. Dress the mutton as ham.
Very sharp,
don't cut yourself.
John married the floozy.
How exciting!
# A room with a view and you
# And no one to worry us
# No one to hurry us through
...this dream we found #
There she blows.
Behold the country cottage.
Oh, Lord, it's enormous.
So, I lied about gingerbread hedges
and obese little children.
How hard to swim is the moat?
- Smoke and mirrors, darling.
Smoke and mirrors.
Oh, by the by, smoking... don't.
Apparently it wilts the azaleas.
That makes no sense. Speak English.
- All will be revealed, darling.
Oh, give me back the wheel of my car.
I'm going back to Detroit!
How romantic!
Here they come! Oh, Furber!
Mister John and his wife
are about to arrive.
I can't see them.
- Your tunnel vision.
Ooh!
Smile, Marion.
- I don't feel like smiling.
You're English, dear. Fake it.
The prodigal son returns
in a blaze of gravel.
Father! You shaved.
Welcome, Madam.
You look gorgeous.
It's so lovely to see you.
Oh, darling. Sorry, sorry!
This is my wife, Larita.
Mrs Whittaker, the pleasure is all mine.
Oh, you're American.
And very welcome. Jim Whittaker.
- This is my father.
I fought alongside many
of your countrymen, Larita,
and I must say it's an honour
to have a comrade in the family.
Thank you.
I do hope I'm not a disappointment.
Far from it.
- And my two little blisters.
Hilda and Marion.
Aren't you the woman
who won the Grand Prix?
First place, before disqualification.
Apparently you need chest hair
to change gears in Monaco.
I saw you in the paper.
I cut your head out. I could just die!
Furber, that suitcase
to the drawing room, and do be careful.
Marion... Golly, you're not a bit
like what we imagined.
Somewhat older, I expect.
Awfully sorry about that.
Before the frostbite sets in...
I'm looking forward to getting acquainted
with the mother of my "Panda".
You'll find me quite uncomplicated,
I'm afraid.
Oh! What are you doing?
Carrying you over the finish line.
Venus de Milo meet my Venus Detroit.
Oh, hello.
Mother's turned our old nursery
into a boudoir.
I wouldn't exactly call
it a boudoir, Hilda.
Marvellous. All those grubby memories
of Little Johnnie.
We had no time
to raid the hothouse.
I only hope we can make you
comfortable.
Don't go to any trouble.
We're only staying a few days.
Aren't we, Johnnie?
- Of course.
And for our next surprise...
What on earth is that?
His master's voice!
A wedding gift from us to you all.
How divine! You should've
got married years ago!
#... another June,
another sunny honeymoon
# Another season, another reason
for making whoopee... #
Come on, little blister. Twirl for me.
Oh, a Continental education.
Not all of us have been so fortunate.
An emotional depiction of the French
postal service, Mrs Whittaker.
Come now, not Mrs Whittaker.
It's "Mother" now.
I don't think we're quite ready
for that yet.
Since time is so clearly against us, why
don't you show Larita up to the nursery?
Dinner's at 8:00.
You didn't tell them?
- One bombshell at a time, darling.
That's not fair! Your poor mother.
How long are we staying?
A few days?
I shoulder the shortcomings of this family
and what do I get in return? A few days!
Look at her. What am I supposed
to do with the bauble of a woman?
Hang her?
- I think she's splendid.
Do you, Hilda? Well, we can all relax.
- She's not what I expected.
She's exactly
what I expected.
Surely not exactly? She wasn't drunk.
- Oh, very funny, Jim.
Reduce this to the burlesque.
- She looks so expensive!
Very.
- Hmm. I like her.
Yes, Jim. We all know what you like.
Mother!
Oh, we have all been sent
to our "wombs".
And so toasty.
- Economics in action.
She keeps half the house closed
to save on heating.
That explains the frosty reception.
Well, darling. Let me warm you up.
Well?
- She's lovely, I'm very proud of you.
Thanks, Father.
John? How long is a few days?
Mother, Larita and I would like
to find a home in London.
But this is your home.
- A home of their own.
But Panda, we need you here.
Since you went off around the Riviera,
we've had to let go of six more people.
If you'd just listened to me
and taken on some machinery.
Wouldn't that be a good idea? I could
run the entire estate single-handedly.
Congratulations on your insight
and your spontaneity.
Sarah and Philip are coming to dinner
tonight, and I have got a table plan
that will take the League
of Nations to unravel.
Tonight? That's absolutely splendid!
- Don't be so fickle in your affections.
Sarah might not be
as accommodating as you expect.
Codswallop. She'll be delighted.
If mother was so desperate for her hand
in marriage, she should've asked herself!
Strange as it may seem,
I agree with your sister.
I think you're wrong.
On certain things, yes. Call her.
Really?
- Really.
Really! If Edgar were here,
he'd do the manly thing.
What? Run away?
Here they come!
And the chequered flag goes to...
Fast work, John!
I should've written, but it happened
so fast, I didn't know where I was.
In Larita's arms, it seems.
Please don't be disappointed.
- Of course I'm disappointed.
But tell me you're happy,
and I'll tell you you're forgiven.
# You're the top,
you're Mahatma Gandhi! #
Panda, don't break out
the brandy just yet.
The hell we're not.
Have I missed something?
- Let sleeping cows stand.
Oh, you plonker!
Rule one, push sleeping cow.
Rule two, get out of the way.
Rule three, remember rule two.
Sarah!
It's so lovely to see you.
I hear your poor father
is not having a good day.
I'm afraid not. He sends his love.
You are a jolly good sport,
turning up like this, that's all I can say.
I wouldn't miss it for the world.
Larita is such a pretty name.
Yes. Excellent for musical comedy.
Hilda!
I hear the cow's in a terrible way.
- I've sent flowers.
And did she eat them?
Touch!
Good evening to you all.
Nobody told me tonight
was fancy dress!
Then why have you come
as the village idiot?
I think I'm snagged.
Let me help you with that.
Holy mother!
Panda? You're forgiven... tenfold.
Sarah Hurst, I'd like to introduce
my wife, Larita Whittaker.
Gosh, I do like the sound of that.
Sarah... finally.
Johnnie talks about you constantly.
- How very annoying for you.
I hope we can be friends.
- We already are. Congratulations.
Er... I'd like to be friends, too.
Larita, my tiresome brother...
- The dishonourable Philip Hurst.
Charmed, my dear lady.
Indeed.
Philip, won't you escort me in?
Of course,
my beautiful, little Sausage Fingers.
That's whet my appetite.
Shall we adjourn to the dining room?
And toast my beautiful bride.
Had we known there was to be
a wedding reception,
we could've lashed out on taffeta!
She's a lot like drowning:
quite pleasant once you stop struggling.
So, John, was Larita's
family able to attend the wedding?
More cabbage, Madam?
There's lots to do, Larita.
You ride, don't you?
Boats, cars or planes?
No, horses, silly.
- Ah, yes, horses.
Faulty steering and unreliable brakes.
I'm stealing that for Stirrup Cup!
Stirrup what?
- Cup.
Every November, Philip and Sarah's
family host the hunt.
Wait until you meet their father,
Lord Hurst, he's terrific.
And Lady Hurst?
- Was terrific, until she... stopped.
Stopped what?
- Living.
Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that.
Between father's polio
and Philip's mania for tipping cows...
Can we please just drop the cows?
I think we'll give the fox a break
this year.
Oh, no hunt? Mrs Winston gave me
her saddle. I've had a wax.
Your father and I conspired to make
John the Master of the Hunt.
People come from far and wide.
It's such a shame to disappoint them.
Very thoughtful, Mother.
You do hunt,
I take it, Larita?
Hypocrites, gossips
or defenceless animals?
Bravo!
You wouldn't get her to the start.
We have another
conscientious objector, Father.
Company! Do you object to the circus
or the slaughter, Major?
I support Sheppard's position
on pacifism.
Good for you.
So, when does the carnage begin?
After the War Widow's Revue,
but before the craft fair,
in between the Dog Show and the shoot.
Don't forget the highlight. Mother's
Christmas dance is the hot ticket.
She's ordered the most exquisite
Japanese lanterns.
From Japan?
- No, Fortnum & Mason's.
Oh, yes.
Prepare for a whirlwind, Larita.
I'm breathless already.
I won't make it to Christmas.
You won't need to.
I won't make it to breakfast!
What were we just eating?
The lumpy grey and beige concoction?
Oh, yes. That's the word
I was looking for..."greige".
Absolutely no idea.
But it is the speciality of the house.
Incoming! Have you met my namesake?
He's very good in bed.
Shh! They'll hear you.
- I don't care.
I do.
I know we need the heat,
but please don't smoke.
Mother's clairvoyant about these things.
She loathes me, Johnnie.
I'm a gold-digger, burrowing in
from the land of opportunists.
Your father's an interesting study,
though.
Quietly sardonic. I like that in a man.
That won't earn you many
brownie points under this roof.
After the Armistice,
Father didn't come straight home.
He caroused around France and Italy,
drinking, having affairs...
A lot of men did similar...
couldn't settle down.
Why didn't she go after him?
- A question of pride.
He finally just wandered home.
Still a bit of a sore point.
We try not to speak about it.
Except in public.
You see, she feels
she's missed out on something.
Which means, of course,
she's missed out on everything.
Exactly. The war robbed her
of all her expectations.
She takes one look
at a woman like you...
The harlot stealing into the nursery...
The delicious concubine...
...with the delectable ears...
...nose...
...neck.
I could just...
...eat you.
After that meal I'm not surprised.
# '... I'm mad about the boy! ' #
Dear Lord, thank you for bringing
John and his floozy home safely.
'Hmm... John! '
Why is Larita always so late?
- You can't hurry perfection.
Edgar was never late for a meal.
- He's missed a few lately.
Good morning.
How are we all on this glorious day?
There she is! Morning, darling.
What would Madam like for breakfast?
I think Madam will get more sustenance
from a kipper.
But it won't be as much fun.
- Aren't you riding with us?
Darling, I think it's about high time
that your mother and I have
an intimate tte--tte.
Just us girls.
- Lovely.
What a frightening thought.
Two hemispheres under one roof.
Papua New Guinea, India, the Argentine.
I may not have travelled,
but the world has come to me.
Are you coming down with something?
Pollen.
But if I hold my breath long enough...
How peculiar.
Which is why we should
get to know one another.
Where does one start?
- Shall I make headway?
I was born in Detroit.
My father worked in the steel plant.
He was one of the first
lured over to Henry Ford.
Ah, hence the love of motoring?
Yes, but I also love animals.
I am a city girl.
I take chickens to the vet.
Oh!
You can't be squeamish about livestock
now that you are living in the country.
Which was never my intention.
I was happily carving out a niche
for myself on the race circuit
when I was unexpectedly flagged down
by someone irresistible.
Remarrying was the farthest thing
from my mind.
I see...
May I ask?
Oh, dead, unfortunately. No children.
Oh...
How disappointing for you.
Still, he provided well, though?
Yes, but there were a lot of hidden costs
associated with his passing.
Oh, that beautiful motor car... Surely,
you must have independent means?
I'm more than happy
to discuss my means,
but I think you'll be a tad disappointed.
The car is my sole source of income.
Which makes living in London
an imperative.
But what will John do in the city?
Work. It's not uncommon.
Oh!
John was brought up in the country,
Larita.
Where will he work?
Chalk Farm, perhaps?
Or St-Martin-In-The-Fields?
I know this is not perfect so that's
why I'm asking for your guidance.
So, please, how can I make this
pleasant for everybody?
Well, erm... wartime experience dictates
that you keep your head down
and you fit in as well as you can.
Oh, there's a war on?
- Oh, no... not necessarily.
Australian mimosa. Mmm... beautiful.
Oh...
And then the British troops opened fire...
How grizzly!
How'd it go, Mother?
- Oh, marvellous!
Marvellous.
Thanks for the invitation!
Thanks for the invitation!
Oh, it's Lord Hurst!
I fear storm clouds are gathering,
Mrs Whit.
Stop being maudlin, Father.
It's the future!
- Spanner!
Father, allow me to introduce
Panda's new chauffeuse.
Lovely La-La-Larita.
- Watch it, Philip.
My son is prone to fabrication,
but I can see on this occasion
he has been perfectly frank,
Mrs Whittaker.
Yes, that's right.
There are two of us now.
No shortage of wits
around here any more.
OK, stand back! I give you, the future!
All right, John.
You can take my baby out for a spin.
Ha-ha! Allergies.
She inflates like a puffer fish.
You just want to squeeze her
until she pops.
#... working at the car wash
# You might not ever strike it rich
# But let me tell you,
it's better than digging a ditch
# Working at the car wash!
# Working at the car wash, man
# Come on, now, sing it to me
# It's better than digging a ditch... #
The missus is a bit trigger-happy
this week.
Bleeding tinnitus is killing me.
I like the new Mrs Whit. Reminds me
of the old one before the war.
Only more reasonable. You can tell
she's run her own household.
Oh, be silent!
Good morning,
Furber, Jackson, Millie, and?
Cook, I can't call you a verb.
Your name?
Beatrice.
All right, all right... it's Doris.
Sorry, Madam.
Always wanted to be called Beatrice.
Well, Beatrice, would you mind
if I helped myself in the mornings?
I fear I shall be rising later and later.
Well... if it pleases, Mrs Whit.
The point of the bell?
When I ring it, you come to me,
not the other way round!
Larita. May I have a word?
Come along!
Would you please refrain
from chatting to the staff?
It's chore enough trying to keep
this motley crew together.
I had a brilliant French maid in Paris.
Perhaps I should send for her?
Thank you, no... erm...
I'd prefer to keep English
the first language in this household.
Ah, there you are.
I say! Anyone for tennis?
Yes. You!
John, Shackleton wouldn't let
a dog out today!
The fog has lifted
and Whittakers don't do winter.
You go ahead, darling.
I'll play with myself.
No, really. I'm a lot of fun.
- Ooh...
John!
It's brass monkeys out here!
Day one of the Antarctic Open.
Mister Whittaker to serve.
Hole in one!
- Deuce.
I see your pair of deuces
and I raise you a tenner.
The Titanic could have hit that!
Sarah, you're an embarrassment to
the family name. I'll have you killed.
Good God! What's wrong with you?
No! Stop now!
Stop, everybody! Listen!
- Shoot the court jester!
Nice backhand!
- Is that a backhand compliment?
# Mad dogs and Englishmen
go out in the midday sun!
# The Japanese don't care to,
the Chinese wouldn't dare to
# Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly
from twelve to one
# But Englishmen detest a siesta... #
Laurel and Hardy step up
to the crease. The fillies are lining up.
Miss Hilda Whittaker looking most
fetching in her feed bag and bridle!
One woman's heaven...
Oh, she's absolutely beautiful.
Broken, tarnished
and completely useless.
Things guaranteed
to keep my wife at bay.
May I?
If you don't mind
getting your hands dirty.
In Detroit, what we lack in dirt,
we make up for in filth.
Your first husband
from that neck of the woods?
Oh... well, word gets about.
So where is he now?
- Dead.
Cancer.
He was a fair bit older than me.
I spent a while playing the unmerry
widow but the black wore thin.
You didn't care for him, I gather?
- I cared too much.
Life was just such an unpleasant
experience for the man, I...
I'd be a liar to say I wasn't glad
when he was relieved of it.
When were you last in France?
- Just after the war?
On a personal reconnaissance,
trying to ascertain what exactly
all those fine young men had died for.
Apparently, I'm of the romantic
Lost Generation.
What did you lose?
I'm not sure.
Oh, hello... hello.
Who was the tiny tank?
Who's a pretty, little, cheeky chorizo?
On bended knees,
please come and play with me.
Johnnie dear,
you know how much I love you,
so please try to take this
in the best possible light.
I'm getting a machine gun
and mowing down your entire family.
That's fairly disappointing. I thought
you and Father were getting along.
Yes, I might spare the men folk.
But it's awfully dispiriting.
We have absolutely no privacy here.
I never needed any privacy before.
This is my home.
It's not mine.
And I very much want one.
# We're all alone,
no chaperone can get our number
# The world's aslumber,
let's misbehave
Timing is everything, you little brute!
Umpire at least.
Philip is pining for you.
If I knew you played tennis, I never
would've signed the marriage certificate!
Ow!
Not a bad day for it.
Reading.
My fianc, Edgar,
was always hiding behind books.
Erm... you're needed on the tennis court.
John was just asking after you.
Would you like to see
a photo of him... my Edgar?
Poppy!
That's Enrico Caruso.
- Who's dead, I know that...
But if you ignore
the nose and the mouth...
...and the ears...
there's a striking resemblance.
I don't actually have a picture of Edgar.
Well... mustn't keep you.
No, no. Of course. Looking forward
to getting stuck in to a good book.
Poppy!
You haven't seen the beast, have you?
- The dog?
Nope. I haven't.
Poppy!
Oh, poor, poor Poppy. I'm so sorry.
Larita!
I've been sent in to badger you.
Please help us make up doubles?
Oh, Hilda, I can't. I'm only good
for the cocktails between sets.
We're between sets now.
- You can't possibly want me on court.
Philip! Go get him.
Poppy!
Poppy!
Poppy!
What are you doing?
- Reading.
"Sodom and Gomorrah:
A Biblical Story".
Who gave you this filth?
Go and find the dog! Larita!
Please refrain from giving my daughter
pornographic literature.
Yes, yes, of course.
Oh, and I've volunteered you and Hilda
to perform the Dance of the Dying Swan
for the War Widows' Revue.
We're short on numbers.
Lovely. Anything to help.
Have you seen the dog?
No. Not recently.
Probably out seizing the sunshine
like everyone else.
Poppy!
Furber!
Oh, it's you, Madam. I'm sorry.
Can I get you anything?
A shovel.
- Shovel. Of course.
Go and get Philip a hot toddy.
Philip. You look so... so... so...
- The suspense is killing me.
Poppy!
Oh... sorry.
- It's fine.
Your brother is such
a sharply honed twit.
Where's our beautiful cougar hiding?
- Under a book, I expect.
I wish she wouldn't slack indoors
so much.
Some people would kill
to be indoors with Larita.
She isn't built the same as us.
Still, it is annoying, though.
You're such a sport,
always ready for anything.
I haven't got Lari's beauty
or charm or intelligence.
She is clever, isn't she?
- Hmm...
Clever... and bored.
I don't understand it. I'm not bored,
you're not bored, nobody else is bored.
Your father is, out of his mind.
Father was born bored.
If only she made an effort to play along.
Stop being so torturous, Panda.
You had her playing charades last night.
What more do you want?
John! John?
To tell the truth, I never really liked her.
Crabby, snappy, little bitch...
I didn't like the dog much, either.
Poor Poppy. Casualty of war.
If I may be so bold, Madam?
These people ride horses.
Lots of horses.
It would be advantageous
to do the same.
And I thought Detroit was a tough town.
# You do something to me
# Something that simply
mystifies me... #
Oh, has your horse run out of gas?
Oh, John, don't hurt it.
Far from it. We've got a hunt coming up.
Poor little mite needs a head start.
Go on... run!
So much to learn about each other.
My curriculum vitae. The brook
is the border of Sarah's property.
Mother always imagined
we'd join forces and invade Surrey.
Oh, and how about
those foot soldiers on high?
That's Davis, Lord Hurst's man.
And there's Lord Hurst...
Closely followed by my mother-in-law.
I wonder what the devil
they're surveying?
Are you disappointed
you didn't marry Sarah?
Of course not. We've seen each other
naked since we were one.
She's part of the... the... the...
scenery.
You can hack it a little while longer,
can't you?
How long is a little?
And don't say two weeks again.
Well, there's the War Widows' Revue,
the craft fair...
...the hunt.
The memorial service...
- What memorial service?
Friends, we are gathered here today
in remembrance
of our missing friend, Poppy.
Oh, Poppy...
Wherever you have chosen
to sow your seeds,
we pray that you are blooming.
We pray that you have gone
to a better place.
Shame we don't know
exactly where that place is...
Anyway, now for a eulogy
from Emily Dickinson, queen of mirth.
"Because I could not stop for death,
he kindly stopped for me.
"The carriage held but just ourselves
and immortality."
Or maybe the carriage didn't stop
and Poppy got squished.
Scraped off the road
and put in a sausage...
Oh, Hilda!
Thank you, Mr Gribble.
Now, ladies and gentlemen,
boys and girls,
behold Reverend Burton
and Marion Whittaker
as they reach for the scissors
in "Samson and Delilah".
Hark! I hear my husband snore!
What the hell happened to Delilah?
Looks like a sock full of oranges.
I'll creep forth on padded foot
and relieve him of his ample follicles.
How hilarious!
- It's meant to be a tragedy!
Then you succeeded
beyond your wildest dreams.
Your father seems
to have a fan.
Don't read too much into it. She was
a godsend during mother's last months.
Sometimes I wonder where they'd be
without each other.
My ample follicles are in dire need
of a trim.
I wouldn't taunt the artistes,
my little dying swans. You're on next.
I've encouraged my girls to undertake
something a little more contemporary.
Hilda and I seem to have a talent
for the can-can.
The traditional can-can,
performed without underwear?
Oh, Philip!
- Anything for you, Philip.
Yes, anything.
That'll raise a bit more than money
for the war widows.
I'm doubling my donation.
- Oh, Pinkie.
Fans at the ready, gentlemen!
All the way from gay Paris,
I give you Miss Hilda Whittaker
and, for her debut performance,
Mrs John Whittaker
doing 'The Can-Can'!
Ooh!
Ooh!
Did... did you?
Is it my imagination, or is your daughter
dancing without her scanties?
Ow!
Bravo!
It's not Lari's fault.
She said it was traditional!
Philip said it, not Larita.
And it was a joke.
Everyone understood that
except Nelly No Knickers here!
Hilda isn't as experienced
as your wife, John. No one is.
If you're not prepared to have a straight
talk to her, then I certainly am.
Don't be ridiculous.
You'll lose a finger.
Lord Hurst will never speak to me.
- Rubbish. I saw you in the back fields.
Preparing the jumps for the hunt!
I'm completely humiliated!
I'll never get a husband now!
After tonight, I'd have thought
they'll be lining up round the block.
I hate her! Hate, hate, hate her!
The advance notices
are sensational, Mrs John.
Is it my imagination or is the cutlery
particularly deafening this evening?
I don't know how many times
I have to say this, Hilda. I am sorry.
That's easy for you to say.
- It's surprisingly hard to be easy.
You're smiling, Jim.
- God forbid, the wind might change.
Hilda, if I had any inkling that you
were going to take me seriously...
You could have made an effort
to enjoy it less.
I had my underpants on.
I was having a grand time.
It's not fair! You've got two husbands,
and I've had none.
Technically, I have one.
- But you've had two.
I've had two shoes
and it's a great deal more practical.
I dare say you've worn down
more soles than that.
John...
Marion, Larita's first husband died
of cancer. Stop being so callous.
Oh, I'm sure Marion
can appreciate the pain
of watching a loved one
slip through her fingers.
She's scandalous!
You should hear what they're saying
about her in the village.
Well, let's stop the wagging tongues,
shall we?
Is it true you've had
as many lovers as they say?
Of course it's not true, Mrs Whittaker.
Hardly any of them actually loved me.
That was uncalled for.
I realise it was a joke, but still...
You threw me to the wolves in there.
- Marion hardly constitutes wolves.
All right, you threw me to the voles.
Either way, you abandoned me.
Your sisters need to be restrained.
Restrained? Hilda breaks loose once
and she's almost institutionalised.
And poor old Marion...
Edgar drops by for a cup of sugar,
and mother has his name
engraved on the family crypt.
I'm sorry but it really is very funny.
- Hilarious!
Welcome to the petrified circus.
Meet the resident contortionist
who can't bend any further.
Then stop. Be yourself.
Let them live in your spell.
# You do that voodoo
that you do so well... #
You're right, of course. I'm a hypocrite,
pretending to be someone I'm not.
Especially since it isn't working.
What the devil has that dog dug up?
Pilot, what have you got there?
How could you not tell us?
Marion, it was an accident.
I am walking on eggshells here.
And I believe I panicked.
And once again, I'm very, very sorry.
How could you do it? How could you?
I imagine she lowered her full weight
onto the Chihuahua beneath her.
Marion, please.
John, did you have anything
to do with this?
No. No, I was the sole perpetrator
of Poppy's demise.
And ever since
I have been wracked with guilt.
Please, please, please
let me buy you a new dog.
You might buy your loved ones
in the United States,
but you can't in the United Kingdom.
How unfortunate.
You could at least show some remorse.
I am full of remorse. I just refuse
to invest in amateur theatrics
to convince you of my sincerity.
That's not how I came off
the assembly line. I'm sorry.
I can't change.
Not for you...
not for anybody... any more.
And I wouldn't want her
any other way. So...
Madam, the dog.
- Oh, stay back! Stay back!
I knew it the second
I laid eyes on her. She's a killer.
She sat on poor Poppy deliberately.
Don't be ridiculous.
Of course she didn't.
My brother has married a dog murderer.
She should be put down.
Put through a divorce court.
The Lord does not
sanction divorce.
The Lord is Almighty, Marion.
He can sanction anything he likes.
The sooner they move out
the better.
They move out?
John isn't going anywhere.
Watch and learn.
It's so unfair.
Why can't I have a room like this?
I could die of envy!
Laying to rest this tragic incident,
we've had this splendid set of rooms
made over for you, haven't we, Jim?
Yes. My wife would like you
to rest in peace.
I even had an old friend of Johnnie's
brought down from the attic.
"Old Faithful Awaits
His Master's Return".
I used to sleep under
that silly painting.
Very comforting, I'm sure,
but we're expected back in Mayfair.
But these are the largest rooms
in the house.
You'll find nothing like it in London.
She has a point.
- She always does.
Sometimes I don't know
why you ever did wander home.
And miss all the fun?
Cook would like to inform you,
Mrs Whittaker, the bird is stuffed.
Oh!
What bird, hmm?
Thursday is bubble and squeak.
I hadn't made any arrangements.
Oh, but I have!
In appreciation of your understanding
and for that delicious double bed.
We'll think of you every time we use it.
What exactly are we celebrating?
- Thanksgiving.
Thanks for what, hmm?
The annihilation
of an entire indigenous people.
A loving union of two great cultures.
Just like us.
- How transcontinental.
I can't believe you got into the kitchen.
- Beatrice did put up a fight.
But technically I outrank her.
- Who's Beatrice?
Your cook. Or now my undercook,
since I'm qualified cordon bleu.
That's a degree.
Furber... take the vegetables down to
the kitchen and tell Cook to cook them.
No, Furber, thank you.
I think I'll surprise my alimentary canal.
Mother, if you don't mind, I'm going
to eat my meal before it gets cold.
Furber, I've changed my mind,
bring it back!
Me, too.
Gobble, gobble!
Yes!
Here's a tip, Hilda.
A sure way to a man's heart is
through his stomach. Or his mother.
Larita, look, I've found
another likeness of Edgar.
Marion, this is Fatty Arbuckle.
- Who's in jail, I know that.
But if you cut out his cheeks
and give him a bald patch,
there's a striking resemblance...
Edgar's away on a trip
across the pond,
sewing his wild oats,
or something agricultural.
She's good, I'll give her that.
- I think you're over-reacting.
Lari? Lari!
Not the vase! Not the vase!
"Taking the corncockle buds
and bee-kissed roses
"roughly in his calloused hands,
"his hot, moist tulip exploded
in her river of delights..."
Larita?
Early Christmas present...
For you, darling.
- Ooh, the mind boggles.
Well, it's... it's...
It's magnificent.
It's monstrous!
It's me. I posed for a young Spaniard.
Don't you absolutely adore it?
Very expressive, darling,
but I can't quite see you in it.
You can see
everything else!
You took your clothes off
in front of a total stranger?
Of course she took her clothes off.
- I think it's unholy.
I'm not sure I approve of you being nude.
You know, without... without me.
Extraordinary.
What exactly are you
hoping to achieve?
Just trying to get into the swing
of things... Mother.
Marvellous! Well, then, you'll be riding
in the hunt with us, won't you?
I might be persuaded
if the painting stays.
Hunt.
- Paint.
Hunt.
- Paint.
Hunt!
Very well.
Hunt.
View, hello.
Hello, everyone.
Good to see you. Richard.
Morning, Jim!
After generations of false starts,
we've finally managed
to combine our cavalry.
Congratulations.
A marriage of minor convenience.
You'll be fine, I promise.
The second you have the Holborough
boy's eye, flirt outrageously.
But Warwick Holborough has ears
like the Cambridge Cup!
And Philip's the prize. Now, if you want
a man's attention... ignore him.
Warwick the Wingnut
and Sausage Fingers?
What a handsome couple.
They'll have puppies not children.
Wait... there's something I need to say.
I see you... you're wasted here.
When the time comes... give me a ring.
If I could find your neck, I'd wring it.
Larita's making sheep's eyes at Philip.
- She's a Venus de Flytrap!
She wants him all to herself.
- She's not interested in Philip.
Nobody's interested in Philip.
- I am!
Mount up, Larita.
If you don't mind, I think
I might give the fox a head start.
Lari, get on the pony, please.
Oh, it's just as I thought...
Oh, I said I'd ride,
and I'm always good for my word.
Tally-ho!
# Spy on me, baby, use satellite
# Infrared to see me
move through the night
# Aim, going to fire, shoot me right
# I'm going to like the way you fight
# Now you've found
the secret code I use
# To wash away my lonely blues
# So I can't deny or lie
cos you're the only one to make me fly
# Sex bomb, sex bomb,
you're a sex bomb
# You can give it to me
when I need to come along...
What?
# You're my sex bomb... #
What is she doing?
- A victory lap, by the look of things.
There's something wild about that child
that's so contagious.
Whoo-hoo!
Well, she promised she'd ride.
Ha-ha!
#... no chaperone
can get our number
# The world's in a slumber,
let's misbehave!
# There's something wild
about you, child, that's so contagious
# Let's be outrageous,
let's misbehave!
# When Adam won Eve's hand,
he wouldn't stand for teasin'
# He didn't care about those apples
out of season
# They say that Spring means
just one little thing to little lovebirds
# We're not above birds,
let's misbehave... #
Whoo!
Miss Hilda,
telephone from New York.
Uncle George?
Oh, thank God, a friendly voice.
Yes, and she's a complete nightmare.
Really?
How salacious.
Come in.
Mother?
I'd like to apologise
for today's schmozzle.
That really won't be necessary.
Larita made no secret
of her disapproval of blood sports.
She did ride as promised.
Well, we should credit her with her
imaginative way of keeping her word.
You must be very proud of her.
Mother, I think...
I think maybe Larita and I ought to go.
Oh...
Yes, I see. Very well.
Feel free to drop in
whenever it takes your fancy.
Off you go. Enjoy.
- Don't be like that.
I'm sorry, dear,
wasn't Mummy being kind enough?
Take these, they might get you
as far as Constantinople!
And this... Casablanca.
- Mother, stop it!
No. You stop it!
Stop being so nave!
The money's gone, John.
Nothing left.
The only thing standing
between this family and bankruptcy
are those surveyors in the back field.
Lord Hurst is offering to buy 400 acres
to keep the bailiffs away.
It's your legacy, John Whittaker...
and I'm selling it.
I had no idea.
- No... No, you don't.
You were supposed to take over
the estate, take your responsibilities.
But you were unexpectedly
flagged down.
I've been struggling for years
with a man who doesn't care,
waiting for you to step up to the mark.
No. You just go.
Go to Algiers
with your racing car driver.
I'm too tired to care any more!
It's not exactly surprising,
John. Look at the grounds.
Your mother is being very practical.
- In what sense?
You're not coming back.
Your father moved out decades ago.
Philip's not going to marry Hilda.
Nobody's going to marry Marion.
Subdividing the land and selling
to a neighbour is an elegant solution.
Somewhat harsh.
I've had my fair share
of selling off my past,
and it is an auction of innocence
that's neither fun nor pretty,
but it is realistic,
something your mother excels in.
But it's my responsibility.
Gracious, how can I have been so blind?
Oh, winter hydrangeas!
How do you do it?
It's a controlled mixture of passion,
persistence and horse manure.
I was hoping to catch a glimpse
of the new bride.
Ah! John's wife has
very fickle allergies.
Allergies to what?
- Flowers, Emma. Can you believe it?
That is a strange choice of bed fellow
for this neck of the woods.
You'll just have to make do
with John and Sarah.
It'll be like old times.
# When you're smiling,
the whole world smiles... #
Why the big Panda eyes?
I've often meant to ask you something,
but I hadn't the courage.
Well, don't then.
Did you think I behaved like a cad,
marrying Larita without telling you?
No, of course not.
You took the opportunity and married
for love. I respect you for it.
If we'd have married it would've been
for friendship and convenience.
Would it?
- Yes!
We knew one another far too well.
I want my marriage to be thrilling,
romantic, with passionate love letters.
I could've written you love letters.
- Well, you didn't, did you?
I did love you all the same.
John, stop it.
He's very different
from the man I met in France.
The boy. The same, sweet boy.
Is it true what she says?
Are you really selling off the land?
To be perfectly honest,
I haven't the faintest idea.
But it's your home, it's your community.
Doesn't that matter?
No.
You're a dark horse.
Have you noticed how few men
of my age there are in this village?
Fourteen years ago,
we all took the King's shilling.
We all signed up together.
My brother, friends, staff...
All hunkered down in the front row
of The Great War.
I thought they kept majors
safely behind desks?
Promotion for surviving.
As captain, it was my job
to get them all out of the trenches.
Within the first four minutes
of our first charge...
...20,000 men died.
In Thorverton, down the road here...
...they were stationed in Morocco.
Their captain bought them all home.
I didn't bring a single man back.
This whole village died.
I think there's a glimmer
of life in you yet.
Well, if there is, it has no time for
pet cemeteries and Japanese lanterns.
Why did you come back?
- I had no choice.
Bonjour, Madame.
Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?
'She came for you? '
Why the lie?
She thought "wandering home"
sounded better.
And to be perfectly frank,
I no longer cared.
I hate new games. There are
too many balls, I can't sink anything.
Sink some gin, Sausage Fingers!
- I never, ever win.
Oh, well done!
Stop sucking it. Come and help.
Come on, Pops.
All right, Missie,
hold your horses.
Right, clear the decks, puppies.
May I?
I was hoping to have a word.
We're accentuating the positive today,
I don't have a mind for anything else.
Of course... of course.
I know you are
under considerable stress...
Regarding what?
Lord Hurst's kind offer
to buy into your property.
The realtor I'm dealing with in London
also specialises in subdivision.
Perhaps he could help negotiate
a premium price.
Thank you, but really this is
of no concern of yours.
Of course it's a concern. I am a member
of this family now and I'd like to help.
And this is your interpretation
of "help", is it?
Carving up our heritage and selling
it off to the highest bidder?
Coming from a country no older
than the chair you are sitting in,
it seems a very practical solution.
Just forget the seven
generations of people
who have devoted their entire lives
to farming this land.
Get someone else to do it.
With a machine, no less.
Who do you think you are?
Swinging your wherewithal
like a cat on heat.
If you really want to be
of assistance, Larita,
I think you know what's required.
Right...
I think it's time an expert showed you
how this game is played.
Watch it...
Bravo!
What a sportswoman, I must say.
Can you imagine? Fantastic!
'Lari, you're confusing me.'
'I'm feeling trapped.'
- 'I don't understand.'
It's this house!
It has an air of doom hanging over it.
And I can barely stand the weight
much longer.
The answer is to go abroad again.
Not yet. This is my life for now,
you know that.
And what part do I play in it?
- Do you have to be so loud?
Of course I do! I'm American.
What is the use of bickering like this?
It doesn't lead anywhere.
You never know.
It might lead to a natural end.
Do you want it to?
Do you?
No!
I just want some peace and quiet.
You're far too young
to make a remark like that.
I can't help my age...
...Grandma.
Look, I'm sorry that I leave you alone
so much. Honestly, I'm sorry.
Good. Then let's do something about it.
Why are we driving so fast?
The thrill of escape!
You're looking very game today.
Fairest game in the land.
A penny for your thoughts?
It's more than pennies,
I'm afraid, Pinkie.
I don't think I can afford the party
this year.
But the Japanese lanterns!
- No, cancelled.
Had to choose,
Japanese lanterns or the maid.
You're not getting out of it that easily.
My offer of cellar and staff still stands.
It wouldn't be Christmas
without your knees-up.
Oh! This is the first piece of clarity
I've had since arriving. Whoo!
Why can't we live in moments
like these forever?
Why?
Because you've stopped
loving me, my darling!
How can you say that?
Oh, I just open my mouth
and the words come out.
Then let's make a fresh start.
There are so many things I need
to tell you about me. Hard things.
I don't care.
I do.
It doesn't matter.
I trust you absolutely.
# I'll see you again
whenever Spring breaks through again...
Come on.
# Time may lie heavy between
# But what has been
is past forgetting
# This sweet memory
# Throughout my life will come to me
# Though the world may go awry... #
Shot!
John!
Top hole.
- Oh!
I can't decide which is worse,
that you had to sneak outside
to get some privacy,
or that you were caught by Veronica.
Who's Veronica?
I am. It's my name.
I fail to see the humour in it!
- No, darling, you're quite right.
I can certainly see the serious
implications. It's not a laughing matter.
It's only a laughing matter.
Indecent exposure is illegal.
Even in America.
Yep, yep...
You're right.
And we're very, very sorry, aren't we?
No, I'm not. This is my husband.
- And this is my home!
Maybe it's time for them
to fly the nest?
Certainly not. They will stay put
and brazen this out.
And you can get that ghastly painting
out of my house!
We do not need any more reminders
of your easy virtue!
Excited, Furber?
- Overwhelmed, sir.
Miss Hilda...
- Uncle George... How explosive!
Furber, I recognise that as asparagus.
Correct, Madam.
Ha! I pity poor Panda.
- Oh, what is it now?
Read! "The Detroit News".
Uncle George is a super sleuth!
Collecting old newspapers is
the last refuge of a truly boring man.
Boring? Far from it. It was a scandal!
Wasn't it... Mrs Morley?
Mrs Tom Morley of Detroit, Michigan.
Don't be grotesque, Hilda.
Well, I suppose I'd better finish
my meal before it wilts entirely.
Any dressing?
- Oh, I am genuinely shocked!
No thanks, I always end up wearing it.
- We've been hoodwinked!
Especially that runny vinaigrette.
- Fire and brimstone!
Mayonnaise has more ballast.
Will you stop this insulting behaviour
immediately?
Oh, I always hated that photo of myself.
Of everything I ever
expected, nothing prepared me for this.
For what?
- She was charged with murder.
I was acquitted.
- And that's consolation?
I told you my husband died.
- But you didn't tell us how, did you?
Does John know about this?
I see...
- It's no concern of ours.
Father! Really!
Yes, and after Hilda went
to all that trouble digging it up.
I'm going outside for a cigarette.
Care to join me?
Thank you, Jim. Don't mind if I do.
No concern?
The pack's closing.
This woman has taken advantage
of our son!
He'd never have married her
if he'd known.
You know that, do you?
- You'd have preferred we had an affair?
It would've been more appropriate!
- Mother!
Unfortunately, I agree with you!
- It's easy to talk like this now.
It isn't easy, it's heartbreaking.
I love John, but it's not blind love.
Marion, does that sound
indicate contempt or asthma?
You can't palm us off like that,
Mrs Morley.
This is your doing.
You're a bigger fool than you look.
Larita is your type,
isn't she, Father?
That is the nicest thing
any of you have ever said.
Hello, are we having a picnic?
John... I think your wife better unveil
this one herself. Don't you, Larita?
Before we met...
...I was involved in a court case
over the death of my husband.
It was seedy and stressful,
but since I was found innocent
I didn't think it necessary
to burden you with the details.
Innocent?
She was responsible
for a man killing himself!
The verdict was suicide
but that's not where it started.
I thought it was cancer.
It was...
But he was so desperately sick.
If you'd known him, you would've
understood how forgivable it was.
It's not as if she poisoned him.
- That's what everyone thinks.
She's a black widow.
- I pity you, Marion.
Really? Well, I won't let you!
Right, that's it! You have a dance
to organise, I suggest you all get to it!
Now!
Hilda! Come on, inside!
John...
Are you crying
because you're angry or ashamed?
Neither.
Coming here has been the most
demoralising experience of my life.
Why didn't you tell me?
I wanted to,
everything just happened so fast.
That's not good enough.
I tried to, several times.
But you trusted me..."absolutely".
And you saw the field day
those fatuous hypocrites made of it.
Please remember they're my family.
I shouldn't think of them at all
if they weren't.
Still... you should have told me.
You should have loved me more.
I couldn't love you any more.
You should have loved me better.
I don't understand you, Larita.
I don't understand you at all.
Dancing with you
is like trying to move a piano.
I wonder what the American
will be wearing.
Or who she'll be poisoning!
Do you like long, moonlit walks?
Only when taken by people
who annoy me.
You've got me all to yourself.
Larita's upstairs with a headache.
And which little fool, pray tell,
gave her that?
You ought to see if Larita is coping.
- I already have. She's fine.
It's been a very trying day
for her, John.
Go and escort your wife down.
- No, I wouldn't worry.
You know my wife, she'll make
an entrance when she's ready.
Come in.
Quickly, you'll blow my cover.
Why are you sitting in the dark?
Watching.
People are so universally similar
when their guard is down.
Oh, hello! Ha-ha!
It seems they are universally similar
when their guard is up, as well.
May I?
Thank you for being gallant today.
- You are damn cool in a crisis.
The judge at my trial
said something similar.
Why did you do it?
Why did you marry John?
My first husband was older,
and his end was messy.
Long afterwards, this...
...boy...
...this pure boy arrived
fresh and unblemished.
I married him because
any other relationship seemed...
...cheap and squalid.
My first marriage cost me my youth,
and here I am stealing someone else's.
What will you do?
The best I can.
Oh, Davis, thank you.
And thank you, Pinkie.
- No, not at all, my dear.
Just look at this turnout.
- Hmm...
They've only come for a repeat
performance of the Cincinnati succubus.
May I have the pleasure?
Oh, look!
Tango, please.
- Certainly. Tango...
Dance with me, John.
Lari, don't.
Please? Dance with me.
That was very gallant.
You've got to stop them, Mother.
- No, I don't.
Oh, marvellous! Marvellous!
Straight from the bordellos
of Buenos Aires
to the Hippodrome of London, Maestro,
take it away!
Jim, this is the end.
Congratulations, Madam.
Have you been drinking, Furber?
- Yes, Madam. Prodigiously.
You are full of surprises.
- Oh, yes, Madam.
I was even arrested once.
What for?
- Bigamy.
Ah, there you are,
Pinkie, I've found you.
Larita, where are you going?
Away, Sarah. For John's sake.
Far, far away.
Is there anything I can do?
You can look after him.
Women like me are tiresome in love.
We expect too much.
Marry John. It's the way things
always should've been.
I'm just so sorry I got in the way.
- You love him that much?
Go. I'll cover for you.
Sweet Sarah.
So glad you've recovered
from your headache.
Please don't build any convenient
social lies on my behalf.
I say, Mother is only...
- Fighting to keep the charade alive?
You've shown tremendous fortitude
holding this family together, Veronica,
and I can respect that.
What I can't respect is the manipulative
road you've chosen to maintain control.
This war is over. Move on.
"Move on." Oh, how convenient.
Oh, wake up, Marion.
Edgar's not coming back.
And that ring isn't stuck, you are.
And Hilda, you've got such promise,
yet you're squandering it on malice.
My advice to both you girls?
Run! Go see the world
through your own eyes.
So speaks the siren,
leading the sailors to their death.
At least I'm not Medusa,
turning them to stone.
Get out!
- Larita? Lari?
Lari, don't go.
- John, I have to.
I can't live here. Nothing can.
But you're my wife, and I love you.
Oh, John, my darling...
You don't know what love is.
You have no idea what it means
to love someone so much
that you will do anything for them.
Even inject them with poison
when they were too feeble
to do it for themselves.
I don't believe that you could've
ever loved me like that.
Oh, John, let her go.
Let her go, off into the sunset
to inject another family with her poison!
Mother...
Off you go!
Before your past
catches up with you... again!
Mother!
Oh, you evil...
Mother! Shut up!
They are predicting warmer weather,
Madam.
Yes, Furber, I believe they are.
Thank you.
Very generous.
There's something special in there
for Jackson. Make sure he gets it.
Of course.
Where will Madam be staying?
Who knows?
Good luck.
And you, Furber.
Would you forward the painting please,
Furber?
To where, sir?
I shall enjoy passing on
the good news, sir.
Well, my dear, when the going
gets tough, the tough get going.
# I've got something to tell you
Really?
# I got something to say
I'm all ears.
# I'm going to put
these wheels in motion
# And let nothing stand in my way...
# Darling,
I'll climb any mountain
# Darling, I'll do anything
# When the going gets tough
# The tough get going
# When the going gets rough
# The tough get rough
# Gonna get myself across the river
# That's the price that I'm willing to pay
# I'm gonna make you stand and deliver
# And give me love
in that old-fashioned way
# Oh, darling,
I'll climb any mountain
# Darling, I'll do anything
# Cos when the going gets tough
# The tough get going
# When the going gets rough
# The tough get rough...
My Lords, ladies and gentlemen,
introducing the Easy Virtue Orchestra.
On piano,
the honourable James Watson.
On the bass,
Thomas "The Bass Engine" Mason.
On the euphonium, Oren Marshall.
Christopher Webster, trombone.
Drums, Mr David Rowntree
and Benjamin Bryant.
On the ukulele, Paul Woollard.
On the guitar, Christopher Montague.
On the washboard, Jason Boshoff.
Saxophones, Mike "The Micro" Smith
and Samuel Franke.
On clarinets, Christopher Caldwell
and Bradley Grant.
On the trumpets, Gerard Presencer
and Christopher Storr.
On strings, Sophie Solomon, Perry
Montague-Mason, Emlyn Singleton,
Boguslaw Kostecki, Peter Lale,
David Daniels and Joe Knight.
Thank you.
And on the saw, David Coulter.
On the bandonen,
Ian "Tango-man" Watson.
And on the oboe,
Katherine "St-John-St-John" St John.
Thanks, Kate.
On the slide whistle, Stephan Elliott.
Michelle De Vries on the cymbal.
Barnaby Thompson on spoons.
Tristram Penna, Gramophone.
Thanks, Tris.
And on the banjo, Benedict De Vries.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
you've been a wonderful audience.
Tell your friends
and please come back soon.
And remember, keep your powder dry.
Goodnight. Thank you.
# I'm going to buy myself
a one-way ticket
# Nothing's going to hold me back
- Really?
# Your love is like a slow train coming
# And I feel it coming down the track
# Oh, darling
- I'll climb any mountain!
# Darling
- I'll do anything!
# When the going gets tough
- # When the going gets tough
# The tough get going
- # The tough get going
# When the going gets rough
- # When the going gets rough
# The tough get rough
- # The tough get rough
# Ooh, can I touch you?
# And do the things that lovers do
# Ooh, I want to hold you
# I've got to get it through to you... #
Gobble, gobble!