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Episode

Eight


Simon: Well, you had to meet her. Wouldnít listen to me, would you? Went behind my back and dragged her here all the way from bleeding Italy. I worked hard to get her there in the first place, you know. And now she likes you. Thinks youíre Ďfabulous.í Well, I donít.

Ann: Oh, come on, Simon, donít pout. She isnít that bad. Admit it, you were pleased to see her.

Simon: And Luigi! What a gem he is! Iím surprised the two of them didnít end up in hospital, no, in jail, on drink-driving charges. I mean was the man ever sober?

Ann: You know, Iím not sure. I donít think I saw him without a glass in his hand the whole time he was here.

Simon: Glass? You mean bottle! He wiped out half the wine cellar in an evening! Image what heíll do at the wedding!

Ann: Well, I am glad I met her. I just needed to see that part of you. You know, genetics means a lot these days.

Simon: Oh God. Between her and Dad, Iím surprised I havenít got an extra head or something. The pair of themÖ

Ann: Itís a shame your Dad didnít stay.

Simon: Are you nuts? Theyíd have killed each other in the first five minutes. If they didnít, Iíd have killed both of them. Oh Ann, what are we going to do about the wedding?

Ann: Well, weíll just have to find your Dad a date.


Gary: Oh hello Suzanne. I really didnít know you were here this weekend.

Suzanne: I came back early. Thought Iíd pop in before going on to say good-bye to Peter.

Gary: Right. I mean, of course you would, after doing the love scenes and that I guess you do get close.

Suzanne: Itís acting, Gary. I think you should understand that.

Gary: Of course, acting. Look Iím sorry about the picture in the paper. That must have been when we took that weekend in Norfolk. Iíve no idea how they got hold of it.

Suzanne: The press. What can you do?

Gary: I know, and that was the photograph you used for the publicity shot as well!

Suzanne: Indeed.

Gary I donít suppose you ever think of that weekend?

Suzanne: I remember it as one of the nicest Iíve ever had.

Gary: Really!

Suzanne: Letís go to Peterís farewell party, shall we?


Martin: I hope youíre proud of yourself. Your Gran was at her witís end last night. Thought they were going to throw you in the nick with that no-good Dad of yours. And you deserved no better, either.

John: Alright, granddad, alright. Do you have to shout?

Martin: Iíll bloody well shout if I want to! Who bailed you out, eh? Answer me that! And I havenít heard so much as a thanks out of you yet!

John: Thanks.

Martin: Well, alright then. Youíre welcomeÖ Youíre looking a bit poorly there, lad. You must have been pretty drunk.

John: I was. I donít even remember leaving the Idiot. To be honest with you, I donít remember much of anything except being pulled off the steeple and throwing up on Reverend Banks. I think it was his shoes.

Martin: Was Sergeant Archer who pulled you down. Woke the whole bleeding village, you did. What did you think you were going to accomplish, bellowing from a bell tower in the wee hours?

John: I donít know. I feel like an idiot.

Martin: Well, you are. I donít like to say it, but my grandsonís a half wit.

John: GranddadÖ

Martin: Now donít go "granddadding" me. Iíll tell you something that you donít want to hear, but itís for your own good. She doesnít want you. Thereís nothing you can do about it, nothing at all.

John: But maybe if IÖ

Martin: Youíre not listening to me lad. She doesnít want you. And you donít want her. Do you know why?

John: No.

Martin: Because thereís nothing in this life worse than being in love with a woman who doesnít love you, whoís dreaming about someone else. Now Iím not saying that Emma knows what she wants, donít really see her fancying old Nigel Banks forever, but itís clear that sheís made up her mind and she doesnít want you. Women today arenít used to settling. They are used to getting what they want, and if they donít, theyíll make you bloody miserable. So give her up. Move on.

John: What will I do without her?

Martin: Well, I canít answer that. Youíre a bright lad. The world is full of things to do. Youíll sort it out.  Anyway, seems to me like you should start by going to bed. You look awful.

John: I feel worse.

Martin: Well, go on then.

John: Thanks, Granddad.


Reverend Banks: Is John around?

Ann: No, havenít seen him. My guess is that heís sleeping it off.

Reverend Banks: Well, could you ask him to phone me when he wakes up?

Ann: I doubt that will be high on his list, but yeah, Iíll give him the message.

Reverend Banks: Thanks. You know, I feel really quite silly about all this.

Ann: You? Why? You didnít do anything wrong.

Reverend Banks: Well, IíveÖweíve obviously upset him badly. Maybe we should have waited awhile. Let things cool off before we started dating.

Ann: Are you happy?

Reverend Banks: Yes. Sheís a marvellous girl, you know.

Ann: Nigel, donít let her hear you say that.

Reverend Banks: Why not?

Ann: To start with, sheíll bite your head off for calling her a girl. And marvellous? Well, itís a bit dated, isnít it?

Reverend Banks: Maybe so, but thatís what she is.


Simon: So, Iím secretive and insensitive, am I?

Ann: What?

Simon: You know what. You said that to Amy!

Ann: Oh, Simon, Iím sorry. I was trying to explain to her how meeting your mother has helped meÖ

Simon: To figure out what a git I am.

Ann: No. Not at all. You know I love you. Itís just that, well, you are secretive sometimes, and you yourself have joked about not being the most sensitive of men.

Simon: Give me one example of being secretive!

Ann: The fact that youíre still gambling but you havenít told me.

Simon: WellÖokay, thereís that. But I havenít spent a lot of money. And we do have enough.

Ann: Right now this isnít about your gambling, itís about your secretiveness. Letís stick to one thing at a time.

Simon: Okay, okay. I understand your concern. Was that sensitive enough?

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