Now, you see, if you follow the actual curve of the thigh
right the way up to the waist, you can see it's... Mr Meldrew?
You can see that it's actually a virtual right angle. There. You see?
- Yes. - Look at her thighs and look at your thighs.
Not at the floor, Mr Meldrew. At her thighs.
- There aren't any thighs on the floor, are there? - No.
Now the head.
Look at this.
This looks like the result of some hideous medical experiment.
It's... I mean, what is it, Mr Meldrew?
It isn't any known terrestrial life form.
What's that film? ''The Thing'' by John Carpenter? And what are these?
- Next to her nose, up here. - I'm not quite sure what they are, to be honest.
- They look like tusks! - They do a bit.
You see, if I'd wanted a pencil sketch
of some heraldic beast suffering from various congenital deformities,
I would have brought one in. You see what I'm saying?
- And got it to pose on the couch, - Yes, I see, yes.
- Are you comfy, Mrs Mauleverer? - Fine, thank you.
Have another go. Try to think of the proportions a bit more. What are you using for this, anyway?
Some advanced form of diamond-cutting implement?
2H. I got on rather well with it last week with the cup and saucer.
Yes, but this isn't a cup and saucer, is it, Mr Meldrew?
No...not really. It isn't.
Use something softer and keep it well sharpened. You have a Stanley knife?
- Yes. - Well, try using it, please.
No! No, you will not!
Leave it in the garage! There's quite enough death on the road as it is. I'll get a taxi.
Lost his contact lenses again, my father. Old people are such a worry, aren't they?
Whereabouts do you live, then? Perhaps I can give you a lift.
Oh. Do you know Southern Crescent at all?
I shouldn't think you'll have another foam-back as long as you live!
Oh, please, don't! And go through this performance again?
- That's another splinter! Look. - Where? Let me look.
- Oh, dear. That looks a bit nasty.
What are you doing? I said I'd do that when I've got back.
Yes, well, Mr Wharton has been very nice and been helping me.
Yes. Better be on my way, though, I suppose. Bye-bye, Mr Meldrew.
And er...see you tomorrow, I hope.
Oh, see you then. Thanks very much. Bye-bye, then.
Bye-bye. Bye-bye.
- Where was this? - Under the gooseberry bush.
Strange. I always thought Weetabix packets were a result of sexual intercourse.
So how did it go this week? What did you have to draw tonight?
I suppose I'd be living in a fool's paradise to ask if they've fixed that phone yet?
Fool's Paradise 300. Hello!
Hello!
Bloody thing!
- I said what did you have to draw tonight? - Seven days ago they were supposed to do that!
- Am I talking to myself? - Erm, draw. Do you know, I can't remember.
It was...a nude, yes. That's right, of course. I remember now.
- A nude? What - a nude woman? - As far as one could tell, yes.
Why has she got tusks?
That was a first attempt. Don't look at that.
- Oh. Very nice. - Thank you very much.
I suppose you had to draw her breasts in this much detail, did you?
- What? - You had to put breasts on her?
What was I supposed to do? Ask if she would mind slipping them off for a few minutes?
Hang them up on the clothes peg next to her handbag?
You might have had the decency to rub them out.
Rub them out?! What's the point of her being nude, then?
You tell me!
No wonder you're late home,
having to tear yourself away from this orgy of flesh!
After I gave her a lift home I got lost in the one-way system.
Gave who a lift home? The naked woman?
A naked woman?
She wasn't naked when I gave her a lift!
You've had a naked woman in the car?
Not in the car she wasn't naked!
- She didn't sit in the passenger seat? - No, I strapped her to the roof rack!
Attracted a few stares at the traffic lights.
She's not naked all the time! She does occasionally put on some clothes.
- She's naked by profession. - What the hell is that supposed to mean?
She's a model. She happens to be an artist. She models for friends. It's perfectly logical.
Oh, know all about her now, do you?
Well, yes. She's um...offered me a little part-time job.
- Oh, yes? - Cleaning around her house once a week.
She's divorced now. Her father stays with her and is a bit of a handful, so a few extra bob in the pocket, i thought...
Well, you don't have any objection, surely to goodness?
Off to the funfair with Mr Wharton, are we?
So would you be if you weren't skivvying for Lady Godiva all day. Excuse me.
- Remember to hold his hand in the ghost train. - I'll bring you back a toffee apple.
Funfairs! We'll all be off to kindergarten next.
That's not bad, you know, that.
You ought to take up painting.
Very good of the flamingo, especially.
That looks a treat, that.
Yes. What about the carpet? Does that look... Flamingo?!
That's a bowl of fruit!
- Sorry? - That's a bowl of fruit!
What? In the middle of a flamingo colony?
On top of the television set!
Oh, I see now! It's a bowl of fruit on top of a television set.
Being eaten by a flamingo.
There aren't any flamingos in it! Where do you get flamingos from?
That's a still life I did bef... I don't have time to stand arguing.
I've got a job to go to myself. I'll leave you to it, I'm afraid.
Right, no sweat there. I'll be fine. No problem.
- Yes, it's all go, carpet-laying, isn't it? - Oh, you wouldn't chuckle.
No, I wouldn't.
Flamingo?!
Mad. Completely mad.
Excuse me?
- Excuse me, you don't need to do that, I'm doing that. - What?
I'm doing this room! No need for you to do it!
I'M doing this room. Excuse me, please.
I'm being paid to do it!
Oh, what's he up to now?
It's off! Father!
Father! It's off!
I'm not entirely helpless. I am still capable. Who is this, anyway?
That's Mr Meldrew, Father. I'm paying him to clean up for us.
- He can sod off! I don't like the look of him. - Well, he can't help his looks, can he?
- No more than you can. - You've never approved of this wig.
Father, it's completely immaterial to me what bizarre objects
you go around balancing on your head all day.
All I ask is that I be allowed to decide how...
Satisfied now?
Will you stop being...?! Quick! Switch back on again or he'll get the better of you.
Go on!
That's it! Good! Good!
Good! Oh, quick! Look out! Don't let him get that cobweb!
Oh, no! Look what you've done! Have you got your contact lenses in today or not?
Do you mind if I make a suggestion?
Take the lenses out, put the saucers in. Then we might get somewhere.
Don't you be so cheeky to me!
I'm not so blind that I can't do simple tasks about the house!
Oh, really? I suppose that hedgehog just leapt into the lawn mower for a haircut last time?
I can see that I am not wanted in any respect whatsoever in this house!
- Do stop being so truculent! - I'm going out now. Going out of this house.
And I may not bother ever coming back again! Goodbye, Doreen!
That's the downstairs toilet he's walked into there.
He's never got it right yet.
So, I'll give you a ring, shall I, sometime or other?
Yes, yes, right. Thanks.
- There we go. - I really enjoyed today.
So did I. So did I.
All right, then, Harold?
See you...soon. OK?
- Bye. - Bye. Bye.
There we are then, Victor. That's lovely. You've been a great help.
Erm, listen, how are you fixed on Friday to do another little job for me?
Erm...Friday?
I'm back!
- How's it looking? Is he finished? - Erm, well, no. He hasn't exactly finished, no.
Why not? Where is he?
He's upstairs.
He's um...
..asleep.
- Is this some sort of joke? - I didn't like to wake him up.
He might have turned nasty or anything.
He's gone to bed now.
- What? - He's gone to bed up there.
- What do you mean? - I mean he's creosoting a rhinoceros (!)
What do you think I mean? He's gone to bed.
He's lying up there in our bed, fast asleep!
I don't believe you.
- Right. Do I lie? - What are we going to do?
Get hold of the Yellow Pages.
- What am I looking up? - Look in S for ''smart lawyers'' and get me one!
I'm about to commit first-degree murder with a six-foot rubber banana!
- Victor, put it down! - Wakey-wakey, rise and shine!
- Oh, my God! Where am I? - In your worst bloody nightmare! Out of my bed!
- Oh, sorry! I must have nodded off. - Didn't even take his shoes off!
I felt a bit tired. I thought I was at home.
- I'm terribly, terribly sorry. - Nothing to worry about.
Nothing to worry about?! Come back again and we'll read you a bedtime story (!)
Get out of my house! Get out!
Don't they make these things to stay up any more?
I see Mrs Althorp's got a man up her pole this morning.
If they can fix their telephone, why not ours? Who are they from?
From Mr Wharton, from his greenhouse. They were on the front doorstep. Very nice thought.
Margaret, can't you see what's going on here? You don't want to be naive all your life.
- What? - He just wants to show off, doesn't he?
What a wonderful gardener he is and I'm not.
There will be bunches of prize parsnips next, you'll see.
Slices of champion tomato posted through the letter box.
Hello? Hello!
Hello!
- Right. That's it. - Where are you going?
To try to get through to someone helpful at British Telecom!
I'm sorry. I seem to be uttering the demented gibberings of a madman. I'll phone anyway.
They say they're going to try to send someone later today.
They think it's a fault between here and the next junction box.
There's only one engineer on, so God alone knows what time he'll get here!
- I'm going out for the day. - What?
Well, you won't be here, will you? You'll be out again - at your girlfriend's.
- What? - The one with the naked breasts!
I don't think I've got any naked men to keep ME company!
No. Fresh out, I'm afraid.
So I'm just going to have a day out. Harold's coming round at 12.
She only wanted someone to pose for her, Margaret. That's all it is.
Something special she was working on and she said she desperately needed a man's body.
So independent, that's the real trouble. You just can't reason with him.
Yes.
Mrs Mauleverer, I was just...
- Erm, Doreen, please. - Doreen.
Yes. A thought just occurred to me.
- This sketch for your painting of... - The crucifixion of St Peter.
Yes.
I was just wondering what would happen if I just stand on the floor
and you turn the painting upside down afterwards.
It doesn't quite work like that, I'm afraid.
The muscle tensions would be entirely different.
Er, yes. Just a thought.
- Where are you off to? - Going upstairs to get my gas mask.
- Whatever for? - Oh, sorry. I forgot.
I thought you were bringing somebody in to exterminate me.
I thought I was nothing but a household pest.
I could have done this, you know.
I could have done this standing on my head.
I am not entirely decrepit.
Yes, well, I don't think we'll risk it with your ventricles, shall we, Father?
I'm going to get my gas mask!
- He's getting better. - Oh, good.
Harold, do you think you're ever too old to be unfaithful to someone?
- I beg your pardon, Margaret? - I mean, at our age. Do you?
Oh, dear. You're making me shake like a jelly.
You've been a great comfort to me lately, Harold.
And I'm very, very grateful.
This is just so...
I shouldn't really bore you with all this, but...
I was getting one of his jackets out this morning to send to the cleaner's
and I found, in his inside pocket, what I can only describe as...
- ..an empty packet. - My goodness.
- Is that...? - Yes.
- One of those...? - Yes.
Oh, Margaret.
- Margaret, I'm going to say something now... - Shall we go inside?
- What? - Victor won't be back in a couple of hours yet. Warm ourselves up.
- Well... - If you don't mind the bed being a squeeze.
You're really sure you want to...you know?
- I'm sure I want to you know what? - Oh, good. So am I as well.
Well, you just go in, Harold. I won't be a second.
Ah! Oh, my God!
Oh, God. Oh.
- What the hell are you doing?! - Oh, my God! Mr Meldrew!
Harold! What are you doing? Whatever are you doing?
I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry.
Oh, God, Margaret. Please, I thought... Oh, dear! What am I doing?
What in the name of sanity is going on here just lately?
Is there anyone else wants to come and sleep in my bed? It's open house. We accept everyone.
All races, colours, creeds. Everyone wants to kip here eventually.
Carpet layers, Boris Yeltsin...
Speak, speak! Victor Meldrew's Public Dosshouse Limited.
Yes, we're taking bookings through to the end of April '92.
- How many pillows would you be requiring? - I think you'd better go.
- You and I'd better have a little talk sometime. - No, but we do have a last-minute cancellation.
Mahatma Gandhi is just leaving. Does that suit you at all?
I'm sorry, Margaret. I'm so sorry!
God! I seem to remember going through a mid-life crisis when I was 30.
That means I must be about to die any second.
You have no idea what that was about, have you?
- No conception of any kind. - What?
Mr Wharton. Why did he get into that bed?
- What are you talking about? - He wasn't exhibiting prize parsnips, was he?
Harold and I have been having an affair! And he never even told me.
Harold Wharton? You can't be serious!
I wasn't, he was. Evidently. And you're in no position... What's the matter with your back?
- I put it out. - Oh, yes?
At Doreen's. I should have known I wasn't up to it.
I should never have let her talk me into it. In that position for two hours!
I'm lucky I can still walk.
You have absolutely no shame, have you?
- What? - No shame of any kind.
- What are you talking about? - I found it, Victor. In your pocket.
- The empty packet. - Empty packet of what?
Empty packet of nothing - because it was empty.
Well, what was in it before it was empty?
Something. You know what was in it!
I don't know! What is this? ''20 Questions''? Is it animal, vegetable or mineral?
- Would I use this in the garden? - I wouldn't put that past you!
- Just tell me what the hell... - Contraceptives! Do I have to spell it out?
Oh, yes! That was disgusting, wasn't it?
Do you know where I found it? Underneath the rhubarb!
It boggles the mind how it gets there sometimes, doesn't it?
Oh...really?
That's where it came from, is it?
Why else do you think it was in my pocket? Oh! I've got to go up and lie on some floorboards.
I've been posing like a simpleton for some stupid picture for two hours in extreme agony!
If I don't lie down, my spine will wither and droop like that rubber banana!
Can we talk in the morning, please?
Take your dressing gown off.
- Have I got worse, Margaret? - What?
As I've got older. I suppose I must have done.
After 35 years, something must have snapped along the line. Oh!
Surely I wasn't like this when we got married.
Hold still or I can't squirt it.
I'm not going to stick with that job. I know that now.
Looking at her old man, it's too much like looking in a mirror.
I don't know how she stands it. Going through that every week.
Goblin vacuum cleaners at 20 paces.
What are you on about? Let me just do the bottom bit.
I suppose this is what it's all about, really. Isn't it? When it comes to it. Marriage.
Reaching 60 and spraying each other with Ralgex.
Come here, you silly old fool.
What the bloody hell do you think you're looking at?! What is this - an aquarium?!
What sort of time do you call this, anyway?
Ten bloody days ago you were to come and do this! Ten days ago to fix this phone!
It's like a constipated gerbil!
Every time you pick it up you can't hear a bloody thing!