Christmas Special To the Manor Born

First, the parish notices about our Christmas activities.

We've had the Christmas collection for old people of the parish,

which raised the sum of £400 -

a record amount,

due mainly to a substantial donation by our lord of the manor, Mr DeVere.

Our thanks are due to him.

And then, last night, we had the estate staff party.

I gather a good time was had by all.

Our thanks must go to all those who worked hard to make it a success...

..especially to our lord, Mr DeVere.

Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, we shall make the church ready for our candlelight procession

and blessing of the crib at the midnight service.

In the afternoon, the women will decorate the church.

We can expect an even better display than usual,

owing to another generous donation from Mr DeVere...

our lord of the manor.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord,

our strength and our Redeemer.

My text today comes...

Well, the words of his mouth were not acceptable in my sight.

-It was rather a good sermon.

-The sermon was a lovely length,

but, "Mr DeVere this, our lord of the manor that."

Well, something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

He's from Czechoslovakia.

The rector didn't utter one word about all my hard work.

This year, I was just "the women".

-"The women will decorate the church."

-You will do it, though?

Yes. Well, me and the women.

-I've a mind not to, nor do all the other things.

-What other things?

-The crib.

-Have you got it here?

-Must've come over from the manor.

-Ned got it from the attic.

-Ned?

Brabinger's spending Christmas with his granddaughter,

-so Ned's lending a hand.

-Oh.

Ned, what on earth are you doing?

-Preparing a surprise, Mrs Fforbes.

-In the dark?

-Look better in the dark.

-What do?

Fairy lights. Look.

Ned, that's lovely. Isn't it, Aud?

Cheers the place up. Thank you, Ned.

Remember how the lights on the tree at the manor used to blink?

Yes, but we can't have everything.

We can, ma'am. I've made a little transformer with a circuit breaker

-that makes the lights go on and off.

-Is this wise?

-I'm rather wary of your electrical expertise.

-It's safe, Mrs Fforbes.

Well?

Well what?

-I thought you said they came on again.

-There seems to be a failure.

-We'll forget about your Belisha beacon.

-Won't take long to repair.

No. In fact, I forbid you to mess about with electricity.

If you say so, Mrs Fforbes.

-Ned, I thought you mended the bird table.

-I did.

-How did it get like that?

-Oh, I can't think.

There was a robin on it this morning.

Are you sure it wasn't an eagle?

-What was the robin doing?

-Fighting off one of the farm cats.

I see. Oh, by the way, where did you put the crib?

Oh, I couldn't find it. I searched the whole house.

-He's got it.

-He'll do the crib, then.

I won't let him do my one remaining duty. He doesn't know where it is.

-Perhaps he's found it.

-No chance of that. I know where it is.

He'll never find it.

-One headless shepherd.

-One three-legged donkey.

-One wingless archangel.

One camel minus hump.

One hump minus camel.

One wise man bearing gift. Donkey's leg, by the look of it.

-Mother, where did you find this?

-In the butler's pantry. Aggh!

-What?

-One dead mouse.

Well, at least it's got all its bits.

Rector, I'm afraid we can't use that.

Well, as I say, the crib has always been provided by the manor.

Oh.

Would you like another sherry?

"Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging." Proverbs 20.

Yes, please.

I'm sure it's not beyond your powers to patch it up.

-Another one?

-No, three's my limit.

-You've had four.

-Better be going.

-Will you pass the lodge?

-It's on my way.

Can you drop this in on your friend and mine?

Certainly.

Yes, I'll see myself out.

Bye-bye. Bye-bye.

-Oh, yes. Good morning.

-Good morning.

And thank you for your custom(!)

You heard what he said. We'd better start getting this thing patched up.

-I'm not one of the world's patchers.

-We need it by tomorrow.

I have influence in high places.

-But not THAT high.

-Leave it to me.

Why don't I pop over and ask him if I can find the crib?

No. If he thinks he's got something I want, he'll make an issue of it.

No. We'll have to find another crib.

-How? It's Christmas Eve tomorrow.

-Yes, it is.

-We'll have to make one.

-Make one?

Ned can make the stable. You can make the animals.

-What will you make?

-Mother and child.

-Can you?

I'm clever with my hands. I was the Rodin of the Lower Remove.

I can't make animals.

You made lovely animals for that WI competition.

When we had to make an animal out of a vegetable.

I won with a carrot giraffe judged to be far and away the best.

Yes, and you were the judge.

How do you think your frogs made out of marrow came second?

Frogs aren't right for this.

Nothing about "shepherds keeping watch over their frogs by night".

Oh, Ned, we're going to make a Christmas crib.

-Do you think you could make a stable?

-A stable?

-I'm good at model aeroplanes.

-A stable, not a Sopwith Camel.

What shall I make it from?

Anything. Adopt, adapt, improve.

Oh.

-What's that?

-This letter just came for you, delivered by the rector.

Not fussy who delivers the Christmas post these days.

-Oh! It's a Christmas card from our lord.

-Who?

Mr DeVere.

What a plan of his new Brent Cross outlet has to do with Christmas, I don't know. Here's a note.

"My mother and I would be so pleased if you'd spend Xmas Day with us here."

"Xmas"! Makes it sound like a skin complaint.

Ned, telephone the manor, present my compliments to Mr DeVere,

tell him I am unable to accept his kind invitation for Christmas Day.

-Why not?

-No reason.

-Are you sure?

-How would I feel at the manor?

-Last year, the family came. Best Christmas ever.

-Yes, I know. I was there.

Oh, yes. Remember playing sardines around the house after lunch,

and coming in exhausted from the Boxing Day hunt and watching Basil Brush?

Pulling crackers and Martin moaning about British industry.

Because his Chinese puzzle was made in Hong Kong!

No, I couldn't go there this year. Anyway, I've a previous engagement.

-A previous engagement?

-With you.

-Me?

-You always spend it with me.

Ah, well, times change. I can't manage it this year.

-Why not?

-A previous engagement.

You never have previous engagements.

-Well, I have this year.

-Where?

Up at the manor with Mr DeVere.

-You are spending Christmas Day with Mr DeVere?

-Yes.

-Why?

-He asked me.

-No reason to accept.

-You don't like Richard...

-Oh, it's "Richard" now?!

He says to use his Christian name.

The nearest he gets to Christian is stirring his coffee with an apostle spoon!

Be more complimentary. It IS Christmas and he IS doing his stuff.

Only to salve his conscience over making a fortune from supermarkets.

It's an excuse to make people buy things they can't afford

which people they don't like and don't want don't like.

You're beastly about poor Richard.

-If you end up alone, you've only yourself to blame.

-Possibly.

One did think that one's best friend would support one, especially at Christmas.

-Don't make me feel guilty.

-I won't.

I suppose it'll be on Christmas Day

that the full implication of my new situation will come home to me,

spending it all alone.

You're making me feel dreadful.

No, no, don't feel sorry for me.

If I get through this first Christmas without undue trauma,

it'll be a feat of moral courage to keep me going the rest of the year.

-I...

-I shall just resign myself to spending a very boring Christmas here, all alone.

One shouldn't desert one's friends, especially at Christmas.

I don't want you making sacrifices.

-I'll come to you.

-That's settled!

We'll come straight back here after matins.

Come back with your oxes and asses.

-Made from vegetables.

-No, save them. We'll need them for Christmas lunch.

-HAMMERING

-Oh, blast!

-Do you have to be so noisy?

-Nearly finished, ma'am.

Oh, well, Joseph will have to be bald.

Now, what do you think of those - the Holy Family?

Oh, very nice, Mrs Fforbes.

-There, ma'am. The stable.

-Excellent.

Who said we couldn't knock up a crib if we put our minds to it?

Let's put the figures in.

Oh, dear. You've made the figures too big, Mrs Fforbes.

You mean, you've made the stable too small.

Well, ma'am, you didn't say any size.

I left that to your intelligence.

How was I to know you were going to make something the size of a bird...table?

Ned...

-Ned...

-"Adopt, adapt, improve."

That's what you said, Mrs Fforbes.

I said nothing about "destroy".

You'll have to make a larger one.

If Bertie's kennel disappears, there'll be trouble.

-Cooey!

-In the studio, Marjory.

-Morning, Miss Frobisher.

-Hello, Ned.

-Aren't those lovely?!

-Thank you.

-Haven't you made them too small?

-Too small?

Well, surely. I mean, look.

-You said nothing about size.

-Well, I have now. MY size.

-Perhaps mine should go outside the stable.

-Oh, no, that'll look silly.

That donkey isn't right.

They were meant to have come from Nazareth on it.

That wouldn't have got out of the drive.

Look, "the women" are at it already.

Afternoon, Mrs Eacham. Hello, Lily.

I'll supervise the flowers when we've set up the crib.

-Put the lights on.

-Yes, Mrs Fforbes.

No, the chancel.

No, that's the organ.

That's it.

That WAS it.

He can't even manage a switch.

That's right. Don't touch another thing. ..All right. Over here.

What on Earth...? Marjory, look at that.

-Oh, it's divine!

-It's anything but divine.

It is common and vulgar and new.

-Remove this monstrosity.

-Yes, ma'am.

-It's arrived!

-Is this your work?

-Snazzy, eh?

-Frightfully.

-Might have known.

The rector told me the crib was always provided by the manor.

Not by the manor, by ME.

Ever since I can remember, and before me, the family...

Since the year 2000 BC.

They didn't have cribs in 2000 BC.

By tradition, I do the crib every year,

and at a cost of considerable time and effort,

-a crib I have done.

-Oh, ha-ha! Ahh!

I think we've done better than that, don't you?

Wait till you've seen this in its full glory. Watch this.

MUSIC PLAYS: "Jingle Bells"

Now, I'll speed it up, so you can see the complete cycle.

It does that once every 15 minutes.

-Ingenious, if I may say so.

-No, you may not.

People in Oxford Street watch that for hours.

-In Oxford Street?

-Yes. It was in one of my shop windows.

-When I was told to provide a crib...

-A crib, not a planetarium.

I suppose it has nodding donkeys with flashing eyes(!)

-There's a guiding star.

-Of course.

Oh, it ought to twinkle.

This is meant to be Bethlehem. It looks like Tokyo High Street.

-It's supposed to have a circuit breaker.

-Why not have a neon sign - "DeVere's Pork Pies"?

No circuit breaker to make the star twinkle.

-I've got one of those, sir.

-Could I borrow it?

-Yes, of course, sir.

-I'll go and fetch it.

-Thank you, Ned.

We'll have that little star twinkling fit to bust.

-It's super.

-I knew you'd all like it eventually.

-BLEEP BLEEP

-What's that?

-Wanted on the phone.

My goodness! There isn't a telephone in there too, is there?

BOTTLES CLINK

-What's that?

-A crate of sherry, in case the rector calls round.

-Crib's arrived.

-What's it like?

Ritzy. I'd like a weekend there.

Ahhh!

We have come a long way together.

You are too young to remember.

Did I ever tell you of the Christmas we had together all those years ago,

-just after your father died?

-Often.

We were so poor, we only had a stick of brushwood for a Christmas tree

and we couldn't afford decorations.

HE MOUTHS ALONG We got orange peel, silver paper...

TOGETHER: ..and for Christmas dinner we had carrot stew.

Oh!

But in spite of that, looking back on it,

and thinking of all the Christmases we had before and since,

I think that that one was the most miserable of the lot.

What?

But if anyone had come to the door and offered us shop-bought stuff, we'd have told them where to go.

-My God, I've done it again!

-What?

Audrey - what have I done to her?

I dread to think, since she won't come here.

-She made a crib herself.

-What out of?

-Orange peel and silver paper.

-Just like our decorations.

-I got one from the store. Think how we would have felt.

-Hopping mad.

Just how Audrey's feeling now.

-Where are you going?

-To remove my crib.

-Marjory?

-Yes.

-You know it's the thought that counts.

-Yes, you said that about my present to you last year.

-Did I?

We should regard this as a thought.

It's his present to the parish and we should have been more gracious.

"We"? Have you changed your mind?

No. As a crib, it's horrid, but as a thought, it's acceptable.

-What shall we do with ours?

-Hide it.

-Could I have a word?

-You mustn't let Ned...

-Never mind about Ned.

I'm going to take my crib away.

-Yours is so much better.

-How can you say that? There's no comparison.

You've got to admit that mine lacks a certain je ne sais quoi - that's French, by the way.

-Yours has more "quoi" than mine. Mine's going.

-No, I insist! Mine is.

Now, now, what's all this about?

We have two cribs and I think we should have Mrs Fforbes-Hamilton's.

I insist that we have Mr DeVere's.

I see. Perhaps I should be the judge.

Very well.

Ah...yes!

Ah.

When you think of the amount of work that has gone into it,

-this is much more in keeping with the spirit of Christmas.

-Indeed.

My impartial judgment is that I find myself taking Mrs Fforbes-Hamilton's part in this dispute.

I quite agree. It should be Mr DeVere's crib.

-But...

-So be it. Come along, Marjory.

ORGAN PLAYS

-Happy Christmas.

-Happy Christmas.

-Happy Christmas, Richard.

-And to you, Audrey.

ORGAN PLAYS: O Come All Ye Faithful

-Going?

-The blessing of the crib.

I'm very sorry about your crib.

I haven't given it another thought.

I think I've got everything fixed up all right now.

Let us pray.

Almighty God, who, as on this night,

did cause his only begotten son to come down from Heaven and be born.

Vouchsafe, we beseech thee, so to bless and hallow this crib

wherein usher in the wonders of that sacred birth. Amen.

MUSIC PLAYS: "Jingle Bells"

MUSIC GRINDS TO A HALT

MUSIC PLAYS VERY FAST

AND WINDS DOWN AGAIN

NATIONAL ANTHEM ON TV

Isn't she wonderful?

To think, she had to learn all that by heart.

Right, formalities over.

It's a book and a film and it's five, no, six words.

Marjory, are you quite well?

If it wasn't for the hunchback... Oh, I've given it away.

-What ARE you doing?

-Charades.

-Time for party games.

-You can't have party games without a party.

We always used to have party games up at the manor.

Sardines. That's what I'll miss most about this Christmas.

-We could play sardines.

-In a house this size?

At the manor, squeezing oneself into a hole was a game.

Here, it's a permanent occurrence.

You've been a misery all day.

Why not have a drink? Drown your sorrows.

I would, if there were any here.

We could have been at the manor now. I bet they're having a great time.

-Mother?

-Hm?

-Oughtn't we to be doing something?

It's getting dark. Draw the curtains.

Well, what about the other ones?

It's something to look forward to.

If not charades, what about blind man's buff?

-With two of us?

-I'm only trying to cheer you up.

If I hadn't been pig-headed, we'd be at the manor playing sardines.

-It was rather intimate, squashing into our hidey-holes.

-Yes.

I hid in the butler's silver safe. Martin was the first to find me.

It quite revived our marriage...

till I realised who it was.

-You should've gone up to the manor.

-I know.

-But if you didn't want to...

Of course I did, for obvious reasons.

But, no, I had to insist on spending my first Christmas alone,

just to prove I'm not the sort that cracks up easily, and it's not true.

So much for my brave face.

Oh!

LAUGHTER

Good old Ned!

They do flash off and on...

every two days.

-Visitors, Mrs Fforbes.

-Who?

-Mr DeVere and Mrs Pol...ou... His mother.

-Well, show them in.

Will you come this way, please?

Audrey, Marjory, happy Christmas.

-Happy Christmas, Richard, Mrs Polou...

-Happy Christmas.

-And to you, Miss Frobisher.

-Happy Christmas one and all, especially one.

-Down, Marjory.

-Come and sit down. Oh, thank you.

-Thank you.

-What brings you here?

-We were bored.

-You seem to be having a great time.

-Oh, we are, aren't we?

-Aren't we, Marjory?

-What? Oh, yes, we are now.

-Well, drinks anybody?

-Yes, I'd love one.

-Oh, sorry.

-Oh, thank you, sir.

This IS going to be fun. You've joined us just in time for sardines.

-Oh, no, thank you. I couldn't eat another thing.

-It's a game.

-An old English game?

-I'll be it. You'll never find me.

(In the broom cupboard under the stairs.)

-Wait a minute. I don't think I understand this game.

-Splendid!

I'll explain it. Come with me.

Close your eyes and start counting...

..to a thousand.

Subtitles by BBC Scotland - 1997