Feeling Dynamic Hebburn

-You OK?

-Yeah. It's just, I haven't really seen you all week.

You're seeing me now, aren't you? Look, I'm here!

You've got mail.

"I'll take you for dinner", you said. "It'll be romantic."

We're having dinner.

And look there's a rose in a jam jar. That proves it's romantic.

Don't mind me, pet. I've never had the cheesecake here.

Whoa!

Phil 'The Power' Taylor! Watch yourself!

This isn't exactly 'as advertised'.

Would you not just like the whole thing there, Dot?

Me? No, Sarah. I'm on a diet.

Doesn't everyone look lovely? Say cheesecake!

ALL BUT SARAH: Cheesecake!

That was such a lovely evening, wasn't it?

I'll remember it for ever.

I'll remember the bill for ever. £55 for six pizzas.

For that kind of money, you want a genuine Italian doing the cooking,

not Derek I went to bloody school with.

His accent's fooling no-one, same as when he worked at the Star Of India.

He was kind enough to liquidise your mam's pizza

-so she could get it past her new teeth.

-Yeah.

Nothing says 'a good night out' like a pepperoni smoothie.

Eating out's overrated anyway.

All I need is a wedge of cheddar, a pyramid of pickle

and a pork pie the size of me head.

With your heart the way it is, you'd best savour that,

because as of tomorrow, we're going completely pork-pie free and cheeseless.

-Pauline...

-No! We're making sure you live long enough

to see your grandbairns.

After all, this albums' full of photographs of children, not cheddar.

I should've had the quattro formaggio.

Ah, look.

Look at our Jack.

He's such a bonny bairn.

And he's grown up so kind and thoughtful.

You never think, Jack! You never, ever think.

"Oh, yes, Mum, we can have another wedding.

"Yes, Mum, we'll move in with you. Yes, Mum, Sarah can move her PhD."

Look, one of these interviews is going to pay off.

-Obviously things aren't 100% perfect.

-No.

They're a 100% imperfect.

It's temporary.

The thing with journalism, you got to go where the work is.

You don't know where we could be in a month.

Where's tomorrow's interview then?

Barnsley.

Right. Barnsley doesn't feature that heavily in my dreams.

Plus, I'm run off my feet. Washing, cleaning, bleaching.

You don't have to do all that.

-I am a guest in someone else's house!

-Do what I do.

When you feel the need to chip in, don't!

< He's right Sarah!

SHE SIGHS

And will we ever have a minute's privacy?

Whispering doesn't make any difference.

He's right, knock all this Cinderella crap on the head,

you're making us both look bad.

But she can't be Cinderella cos she had two ugly sisters.

All right?

Ah, Denise.

I was just saying, you're like one of the family, aren't you?

He's calling you an ugly sister.

Ha. I'm not ugly. I'm handsome.

That's what the modelling agency said.

That's why they couldn't use us.

Yeah, in the same way they couldn't use Louis Spence in the SAS for being too butch.

Still can't get a job?

I just haven't come across the right one yet.

Maybe the right one was staring you in the face, Jack.

You just didn't realise it until it was too late.

What you on about?

But you could always go back to it, you know.

Wouldn't mind that you'd seen other jobs in the meantime.

Even posh, blonde jobs.

Are you talking about me?

No, just jobs.

Still got your silk boxers then, Jack?

I thought you left them on the beach that bank holiday

we got lost in the sand dunes.

Yeah. I got him new, clean ones.

The other ones were old and tatty, Denise.

You know, and sort of worn away at the crutch from overuse?

Was she talking about me?

Oh, look!

It's our Jack's first article he ever got published.

"Stuffed Puffin Collector Collects 9th Puffin."

I'm surprised Panorama weren't straight on the phone

after that one.

Panorama's loss was the dole queue's gain.

I hope he gets this job. You know what he's like.

He reckons he's too good for them.

He's living his dream.

But when do we get to live our dream?

This is it, Joe. This is it.

Right. I'm starting to wish it was a dream now.

You were the one who told him not to settle for second best.

I was talking about Denise, wasn't I? And I was right.

That Sarah's a lovely lass.

Mind you, she couldn't make a cup of tea to save her life.

Oh, Joe! She's in a strange house,

working with different water, different cups.

-Well, that last brew she made fair bruised me taste buds.

-Look!

It's photos of when your mam took us to celebrate

her cold weather payments at that new Chinese. Remember?

Those chips were great. And the gravy wasn't bad.

Don't worry about our Jack.

He's got his head screwed on.

Take it back! I was not an accident, I was planned!

Don't be daft, who would plan you?

Night, then.

Night, Denise! Any way,

how can I be an accident when I'm the favourite?

How can you be when Gran's paying for MY wedding?

-Who cares? She's buying me a car!

-What?!

A car? Really?

Yeah. With wheels and all the trimmings. I'm getting it tomorrow.

Is this true?

Is Gran going to expose us to the dangers of the Geordie Clarkson?

She said as she's paying for your wedding,

it's fair she get your sister something.

Any way, never mind that. Bed time.

Oh, no, Mam, not yet!

-It's too early for bed!

-I don't want to hear any whining.

Jack, you've got an interview, Vicki you're picking up your car.

Now brush your teeth and get to bed, the pair of you.

-WHINING:

-Oh, Mam!

Go on. Away you go.

Hold on, I'm 25 years old! I'm a grown man!

Bed!

Eee, I cannae wait to get me car.

Dot picked it out special.

She says it's like a dream on wheels.

Does Postman Pat know you've pimped his ride then?

-Three grand.

-Done deal.

I just need to sort out a couple of things and you can take it tomorrow.

Tomorrow? But... I want it now.

Aye, but I have sort out a couple of...enginey things.

But I've got to drop our Jack at the station,

then we're getting our legs waxed up The Wax Hatch.

I enjoy a smoothness, you see.

Helps me stockings glide on.

And off.

Hmm. Lovely(!)

But it wouldn't be right to let you take it without us fixing it up.

SHE SOBS LOUDLY

Look what you've done to her, James Carter!

I knew your gran! If she could see you now,

she'd be blushing in her grave!

And I went to her funeral as well!

-Really?

-Poor, Joan.

-June.

-June.

Get her a glass of water, mate, eh?

He's gone. You're all right, pet.

What are you doing?

Do you want a lift to the station in my mint new car or not?

Well, yeah, but not if...

Shut up then. Let your sister do what she does best.

You can't just burst out crying every time something doesn't go your way!

Well, how does Sarah win arguments with you then?

We don't really argue. We just keep talking things through,

until I feel like crying.

Like I say, you'll have to come back tomor...

-SCREECHING:

-Nooooo!

SHE SOBS LOUDLY

See? Easier than peasy.

Well played, pet.

The retching was maybe a bit much, but I appreciate we were in a hurry.

Me own car! I don't think I've ever felt lusher.

Oh, I feel like the Queen!

We should get some Corgis in here.

There's not much room. You'd have to put them on a roof-rack.

I tell you how lush I feel.

I feel like Cheryl when she drove that tank in Afghanistan.

-I'm feeling shell-shocked meself.

-Shut up, Jack. You're just jealous.

And who can blame you?

I'm putting another wash on.

I got the stuff from the bathroom and picked Vicki's thongs off the floor.

-Is there anything else to go in?

-No thanks, pet.

-Mind, there's a load finishing.

-I'll put it in the tumbler.

The tumbler's finishing a load, as well.

Well, I'll wait for that to finish, then I'll fold it and put it away,

then put the load from the machine in the tumbler,

-then put the new lot into the washing machine.

-Sounds like a plan.

-You don't have to, Sarah.

-Oh, it's the least I can do.

I hope Jack gets this job. I mean, we love having you here pet, but...

Haven't been able to go round in just me pants for over a month.

I was going to say, they need their own space.

It's too cramped for them.

They'll end up like apes in a zoo, walking in circles

flinging their poo about.

I've been helping Jack with his interview technique,

and as long as he gets the dynamic right, it's a done deal.

Dynamic. When was the last time you were dynamic, Joe?

Ooh...

Last week when the kids were out, remember?

I didn't mean like that!

SHE LAUGHS

Honestly!

SHE GIGGLES

Right, while I'm waiting, does anyone want a cup of tea?

Ooh, aye, I'm absolutely parched!

Actually, on second thoughts, I won't bother.

Never mind tea, aren't you supposed to be cleaning the shower plug hole?

-I know, but I think I've pulled me back again.

-Mm.

Well, I suppose I could... have a go at the plug hole.

Good lass. You'll be needing the special fork.

You know, there's no reason why

we can't have a little drinks cabinet in the back.

MOBILE RINGS

Hi, Sarah, how's it going?

I think I might actually be turning INTO laundry. How are you?

We're doing a Geordie remake of The Fast And The Furious.

Do you remember what we went through last night?

Yep - confident, friendly, positive and ambidextrous.

Ambitious!

Joking! Confident, friendly, positive and ambitious. I've got it.

Just...be the best version of yourself you can possibly be. Handshake?

Firm, but not crushing.

You could do to learn that, with your Vulcan Death Grip.

Research says that most interviewers make up their mind in the first minute.

So just keep it together for 60 seconds. Then you can be yourself.

No me for the first minute. Got it.

Really big kiss, babe, good luck.

Thanks, pet. Call you later.

Bye, Dot.

Act like you've already got the job. Then they'll HAVE to give you it.

Aye, maybe. Cheers, Vick.

Really big kiss, babes, good luck.

You know how to get back to Hebburn from here, aye?

I'm not an idiot, idiot.

There you are, flower. You can put all the plug hole hair in that.

Right. Thanks.

Hey, thanks to you for volunteering. Makes me gag every time I do it.

Surely a carrier bag would be big enough?

You'd think so, wouldn't you?

Oop...'ey.

You're looking very sprightly for a man with a faulty spine.

Right, I'd better get off to the chemist for some liniment.

-I'm telling you, me back's stiffer than a wooden vicar.

-Actually,

I'm going to the chemist later, I can pick it up for you.

No, you're all right, pet. It's...a very...specialist kind of liniment.

Mind, I might want you to drive me somewhere later.

So don't have more than a PINT of liniment.

Never mind about the plug hole, pet.

Joe can do that after he's been anesthetised.

Honestly, I don't mind doing my bit.

-You know, I remember... Here.

-Oh.

I remember when we we're living with Joe's mam

and she had me running round doing all sorts

and she couldn't stop interfering.

I hope I'm not like that.

No, of course not.

-Now, you did use non-biological powder, didn't you?

-Yes.

-Otherwise Jack gets a rash.

-I know.

-On his...

-I know.

-..special area.

-I know.

-We're talking about his penis, pet.

I know.

I love being somewhere we've never been before.

-Are we SUPPOSED to be somewhere we've never been before?

-No.

We're supposed to be at the Wax Hatch, getting dipped, ripped and stripped.

I think we're lost.

Really? You think?

Gran, where did you get this map?

They gave them out.

During the war.

-During the war?

-Aye, to the pilots.

Did you fly planes in the war?

No, I handed the maps out. I loved doing me bit.

Oh, and I'll tell you, pet,

you've not lived until you've felt a pilot's gratitude.

-There's no roads on it.

-Course not.

You get shot down behind enemy lines, you don't use the roads.

Is this France?!

I'm saying nowt. Careless talk costs lives.

Hiya, Joe. Pint of bitter?

I'd put up very little resistance to that, Siobhan.

Aye-aye, Joe!

All right, Geoff. What brings the editor of the Hebburn Advertiser to this part of town?

Doing an expose on who's been nicking me hanging baskets?

2.10, love.

I'm off to the war memorial.

Apparently, someone's spray-painted graffiti on the big cannon.

Balls either side?

Yeah, the usual. We'll just use the photograph from last time.

I'm taking early retirement.

Aye? Me too. I've got arthritis. Both hands.

I can't even use the TV remote.

I haven't chosen me own television programme for two years.

The only ones I get to see are them where Judi Dench wears that bonnet.

And don't get me started on Loose Women.

It's like a live version of that round our house every day, no wonder me heart's knackered.

And I've got to give up drinking. Cheers.

I hear young Jack's back.

Well, not so young any more. He's a married man.

I remember when he started at the Advertiser.

Fresh from journalism college.

That interview with the stuffed puffin man...very probing.

But Jack was meant for bigger things.

He told me that every day.

So, why don't you tell me something about yourself?

OK, well, can I be completely honest with you, Malcolm?

It's Martin, but, yes.

Oh, right. Sorry.

Erm, the thing about me is,

I'm confident, friendly, positive and...

It's not ambidextrous. Ambitious!

Not that I've got anything against the ambidextrous. You've got to hand it to them, haven't you?!

I...I'm just joking. No?

O...K. And what about your general approach to writing?

You just have to stick to your guns.

OK, it can cause friction.

I lost count of the number of arguments I had with me last editor.

Mind you, he was a bit dim.

Funnily enough he was from Barnsley, actually!

I'm not saying that you're all like him. Er, I mean, you seem normal enough.

Thank you.

So what would you say your biggest weaknesses were?

Some people would say I probably care about my work too much.

But I couldn't care less.

I...I care about the work.

I couldn't care less about other people's opinions. Except yours.

-Has it been a minute yet?

-What?

Have I been in here for a minute?

Er, yes, probably.

-Oh, thank God for that.

-HE EXHALES

I could tell you about some of me other weaknesses, if you want.

OK, if you're absolutely sure, Denise.

-'Definitely. Going forward's always the best way to go.'

-Right. Laters.

Right, Gran, we're going forward.

ENGINE FAILS TO START

Is it supposed to sound like that?

Why don't you ring your dad for help, pet?

No! I'm trying to show him that I'm a strong independent woman, like...Beyonce.

But with a normal arse.

Well, how about getting your man-friend to pick up? You know, the pub singer lad.

He's not a pub singer. He's a singer. Who...works in pubs.

Anyway, he hasn't got his own car yet.

The record company's gonna buy him a limo once he gets his big break.

We might not be able to wait that long.

I think Robbie wants to leave Take That again.

Oh, God.

Look, I reckon if I just keep on trying, it'll eventually start.

It will give in before I do.

ENGINE FAILS TO START

Yes, I would describe meself as a team player.

But as the member of the team who's also captain.

Because there's no "I" in team.

But there is an "I" in captain.

So... Hold on, Sarah wrote this down for us.

Don't worry.

So, where do you see yourself five years from now?

Well, if it all goes to plan, I'll be about to publish me third bestseller.

Probably have a weekly column. But like a...page-sized one.

In the Barnsley Gazette?

Oh, God, no. Probably like the Guardian, or the Independent.

But...I'd like to continue to contribute to the Barnsley Gazette.

Maybe as like a guest restaurant reviewer?

Interesting.

I started to tell you, but that fella, the brother,

after he had his operation, he looked just like a turnip.

And not a very nice turnip.

Mind you, he always had something of the root vegetable about him.

Now, I knew a singer once who used to croon down the Hippodrome.

Bertie Digweed.

Well, I think that about covers it.

Are there any questions you'd like to ask me?

Oh, I'm supposed to ask questions, aren't I?

Erm...yeah, what would be the...

Could I sort of... Have you ever noticed... Ohhh.

-Should I just send the next bloke in?

-If you wouldn't mind.

-This hasn't gone brilliantly, has it?

-Do you want me to be honest?

Yeah. No.

Oh, Sarah said I need to get feedback, so... Yeah.

OK. Here goes. From the first minute you walked in...

Aye, the first minute. But after that I relaxed!

Yeah, and it got worse.

Oh.

I think you're probably not suited to the Barnsley Gazette.

I did everything you said. Good handshake, proper friendly. I even gave him a hug.

A hug? Oh, Jack.

I was being positive. And I know I came across as ambitious.

And talk about confident. Honestly, Sarah, I was...

-Too confident.

-Almost certainly.

Jack, you idiot.

It wasn't right for me anyway.

I'd end up doing more local stories about bloody puffin collectors!

Look, you need a job.

We can't spend our lives lurching from one disaster to another.

So, please stop lurching!

I am not lurching!

All the romantic numbers, he used to do that one -

Kiss Me Underneath Me Plum Tree.

Lovely mellow tone, he had, and we used to go down there

every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. Me and Betty Wallis.

All right! Enough's enough!

You know with Sarah down the chemist and the kids out?

-Mm-hmm.

-A man could get to feeling a shade dynamic.

Could he?

He most definitely could.

Well, it's a shame that man has apparently put his back out, isn't it?

Well if you knew that man as well as I do, you'd soon realise...

PHONE RINGS

Hello, my angel, how's life on the road?

INDISTICT SCREAMING

It's for you.

Hiya pet, how's it going?

Eee! Never!

The car's broken down. Where are yous, pet?

They don't know, but she says she can see an old church.

Could be Saint John's. Ask her if it's been converted into a Tesco metro.

Your Dad's asking if it's been converted into a Tesco Metro?

She says, "No, it's a MacDonalds."

MacDonalds? That'll be the Church of the Sacred Bleeding Heart. She got well lost, didn't she.

-Tell her we'll be there in 20 minutes.

-Your Dad says we'll be there in 20...

SCREAMS

We'll be there in ten minutes, flower.

Howay, Captain Dynamic!

-Can I get you one, chuckles?

-Pint, Siobhan.

-A'right, man. We're celebrating. Ramsey's got a new job.

-What?

The boy that school forgot just waltzed in and bagged himself a job?

GLASS SMASHES

-Ramsey!

-As long as they don't ask him to multi task, he should be fine.

What kind of job is it?

Working for the Hebburn Advertiser.

What's he going to report on? Petty crime in the Ramsey area?

Have you heard I'm in the news?

Aye. Congratulations, son.

He said, "I like you. You're confident, friendly, positive and ambitious."

Howay then, what's this job?

Physical Distribution Manager.

Even give us me own satchel and everything, look.

Physical Distribution Manager? So it's a paper round?

How, man, at least he's got a job.

You can physically distribute me tonight.

As much as you can manage, Ramsey, sonna.

Mint.

And it turns out the dirty bugger had been parallel parking

in the disabled bay with Janet. You know - Wheelchair Janet.

She found that chair...

Hello, flower.

..and milked it for a new bungalow...

-All right, Mam.

-Ah, come on, let's get you home.

Home? Pauline, look at them, we need to get them down to the pub, stat.

She just won't stop...

We had a lovely chat...

She just won't stop. She keeps on talking about all of these people

and I don't know who any of them are,

but I know everything about their lives.

I know. After a while it starts to burn, doesn't it.

SOBS

Aye, aye, Jack.

Hello, Geoff.

Good to see you. Ee, I was speaking to your dad earlier,

he said you had an interview at the Barnsley Gazette.

Yeah but, I decided it wouldn't be challenging enough.

I might see if any airline magazines need anyone.

-I'm retiring, Jack.

-Congrats, Geoff.

Looking for a new editor.

Well, good luck finding someone who's prepared to spend their life

deciding what goes on that front page. "Lost Dog Found" or "Man Sees Thing".

Still, editor of your own newspaper? Come on, you're a smart lad.

Me? Oh, thanks for the offer, Geoff. But what you're suggesting there

is the career equivalent of being the prettiest troll.

Oh, come on.

Hi, Pet. I, er... I popped in to see if you're here.

Did you now?

By the way, Sarah, Geoff.

-Geoff, Sarah, my wife.

-Hello, flower.

-Hiya.

You OK?

Yeah, sorry about getting mad with you earlier on the phone.

I was a bit frightened to go home in case you used your death grip on us.

Don't worry. You can tell me exactly what happened at the interview,

then we'll make a really detailed plan of what you should do next time.

Great. Do you want a drink?

Um...I'll decide when I get back from the toilet.

Disabled lavvy key, Siobhan! The Eagle is in danger of landing.

How did your interview go, pet?

Plus side, they let us know straight away.

Minus side, they said, "definitely not."

Aw, you could probably do with a big cuddle from your mam.

Hash tag - dole!

Stop sparing the horses! Howay.

All right, Jack. We've just had a thrilling motorcar adventure.

Somewhere in between Herbie and The Italian Job, but with loads more sobbing.

Wow, looks like everybody's had a tip top day.

And what can I get you two?

-Breezer. Pint. All the flavours.

-Pint, please, Siobhan.

Where's Sarah?

In the toilet deciding whether she wants a drink or not.

Is she?!

What you doin' pet? You've been in here for... Eee!

I thought so. When our Jack said you were deciding if you wanted a drink or not...

Please don't tell anyone.

So, is it negative? Or is it pregative?

Pregative.

You don't look very happy about it. For most the lasses round here,

that's the first step on the property ladder.

It's just...we've got nothing.

Don't be daft. You've got us, haven't you?

Your family. And you'll never get rid of us, pet.

Won't I?

And we are going to love this little one

more than Jordan loved Peter.

Until the divorce, when they both suddenly did all that realising.

-But what about my PhD?

-I told you, dafty. You're family.

While you're off at your university, I'll take good care of the baby.

-Mind, I'm not touching it if it shits.

-What about my plans?

-I wanted to be the next Karen Horney.

-Is she a porn star?

She's a famous female psychologist. She developed

the theory of womb envy.

But now you don't need to be envious.

You've got a womb and it's chock full of bairn.

I don't know how to tell Jack. This could completely freak him out.

All you need to do is show him this. Blokes act on instinct.

You'll know if he's ready by the first thing he does.

If he stays, you're laughin'.

If he runs, me mam'll kill him anyway, so you're still laughin'.

Oh, come 'ere.

-Lovely to see you all. Goodnight.

-Nice one. See ya, Geoff.

-See ya.

So, where's your next interview? Gotham Gazette?

-I'll have to have another look, see what's out there.

-You need to find something.

-You can't stay with us forever.

-Course they can!

-They can stay way beyond what's acceptable.

-Fine.

-Can I get another round in for anyone?

-Hit me.

-Wine, Joe. The one that Sarah drinks.

-Pint Jack?

-Cheers, Dad.

-Sarah, what do you want? Wine? The one that you drink?

Can you I just borrow Jack for a minute?

-Course you can, pet.

-I'll never get the round in at this rate.

-All right?

-So...upset we're not Barnsley bound?

Not really. I'll find something. In fact, I've just had an offer tonight.

What? Really?

Geoff from the Advertiser. Offered me the job of editor on a plate.

I told him, moving back to Hebburn for a bit is one thing,

but I can't go back to where I worked as a teenager.

What's up?

Is that...?

Pregative.

Well, what did he say?

He just left.

The little bastard!

Siobhan, Geoff'll have another pint, me Dad's paying.

Then we're ganna sit down and show me the ropes.

-That I will, Son, that I will.

-Thank you.

Right... Celebration, man.

Your son's going to be the new editor of the Hebburn Advertiser.

So, how many puffins have you got now then?

-Eight.

-Eight?

You had nine puffins five year back.

Aye, I lost one.

SIGHS

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