Curse of the Mummy Sorry!

Timothy! Timmy!

Oh, surely he's not in the lavvy again!

Timothy, are you in there?

Yes, Mother!

Are you reading?

Yes, Mother.

You know what we say in this family about people who read in there?

As far as you know, people could be waiting.

People not at all well.

-Are there?

-I'm not telling you.

-Mum, you're always...

-You're not in there!

-No, sorry. Shall I go in?

-Do you need to?

-No.

-Don't be so silly, then.

I found Teddy in the dustbin again. I can't imagine who put him there.

I imagine it was me. I don't need a teddy any more. I'm a big boy.

I use the same aftershave as Henry Cooper.

You'll thank me when you have little ones. Teddies don't grow on trees.

-Mother, I'm sick of seeing him on the linen basket smirking at me.

-Timothy, where are you going?

-Downstairs.

-Why?

-The rest of the house is down there(!)

-You're not going anywhere.

-I'm sorry, Mother.

I was hoping to slip under the wire to freedom, disguised as a grown-up.

You can't go now. Muriel's coming. Anyway, it's four o'clock.

-Teatime!

-We've just had lunch!

I can't eat any more.

-Wake up, Sidney.

-Ergh...

-Hurry up, Timothy. It's on the table.

Mother, goodness me! Who are we expecting?

The Vienna boys' choir? Ian Botham?

If you ate up your tea without a fuss, you might be better at games.

Now, come on.

I've got to clean the entire house before your precious sister arrives.

You don't have to clean up for your daughter!

I don't want her sliding her finger along the picture rails and sneering.

It's you that does that. Last time, that's what caused all the trouble, really.

You tidying up after her. You burnt her sponge bag!

It was beginning to smell.

It certainly stank when you burnt it!

She doesn't like the way you send Father outside to blow his nose.

Daddy's girl - that's what she is.

I shall never forget the day she stormed out with her suitcase.

Give her some credit - she was only three.

There's a very mule-ish streak in her and she doesn't get it from me.

Er-er-er.

That's where her unreasonableness comes from. Don't dunk your crumpet.

Mother, they're so tough. What are they? Army surplus?

-It was you that started it by being rude about Kevin.

-She started it by marrying him in the first place.

If you don't believe me, look at this.

Now... What do you notice, eh?

I see the tree growing out of the vicar's head.

Don't be puerile. Look at Kevin.

Look at his eyes.

He's got two. What more do you want?

Look how close together they are.

Well, there's room for his nose.

And he makes a funny noise when he yawns.

-You can't get a divorce for that.

-She didn't mention divorce, did she?

No, but if you keep going on at her, she'll stay away for months.

-Life's too short for quarrels.

-She called your mother an "interfering old cow".

-Thank you, Sidney.

Cows are very nice, motherly creatures - they give milk, they've got warm udders...

We don't mention mammals in this house.

And I'm not old or interfering. And now she invites herself here!

-No, you invited HER.

-Well, she rang up.

She was just being friendly. Her train leaves from here and you invited her to spend the night.

If she thinks I'm going to talk to her, she's got another think coming.

-But, Mother, you ARE her mother.

-Language, Timothy!

-Go to sleep!

-Fair enough!

You're annoyed she left. You wanted them to have their honeymoon here!

I could have cooked for them.

Two weeks of chocolate spread soldiers! O frabjous joy! Callooh! Callay!

Do you wish to leave the table?

Mother, I've been wearing long trousers for three years.

-I can do as I please, mein Kommandant!

-Seen, not heard.

I should have said grace first.

Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, praise the trolley with the food thereon.

-Happy smile, happy tummy - thank you Lord, thank you Mummy.

-Ti-mo-thy!

I was telling him all our news - Angus playing school football -

and he just dozed off.

You should've talked about compost.

-Where's Mother?

-She's lying down.

-Is she ill?

-No, but you're not talking.

Well, you are, but she's not.

-She spoke to me on the phone.

-She reconsidered it.

The "interfering old cow" rankled a bit.

She got over the "old", didn't mind the "interfering", but the "cow"...

She is interfering. She suggested Kevin had his eyes looked at.

Well, they are a bit close together.

Well, sort of adjacent.

-What?

-What's it got to do with her anyway? I get on very well with Kevin.

-We see eye to eye on most things. Well, nearly.

-Shut up, Timothy!

-What's happened to this? Hasn't grown since I last saw it.

-No.

Mother talks to it. It's lost the will to live.

Talks to plants, doesn't talk to her daughter!

This isn't the same cloth as six months ago? It is - I tore that corner. These are disposable.

What's that teddy doing in there?

Just leave him in there smiling.

-It's not 1980!

-Mother's got a thing about pathetic puppies.

-No comment.

It's 15 years since I left this place and nothing's changed.

And you're the Sleeping Beauty.

-Thank you very much.

-That wasn't supposed to be a compliment, idiot!

Oh, I'm sorry.

There now, has that woken you up, Beauty?

-I AM awake!

-What are you doing here?

-I like it here.

-You don't.

-I do!

-Chinese burn.

-No, don't torture me!

-Do you like it here?

Oh, that's the arm I broke.

-Liar!

-The arm YOU broke! I'll stand on your toe.

-I'll tell Mother.

-Ah, Timothy!

All alone?

-No, er... What?

-All alone in the kitchen?

-Muriel's here.

-We don't know anyone called Muriel.

Oh, this is your daughter. Can I introduce you?

You will be changing, won't you, Timothy? And combing your hair?

There are those among us who look like nuclear disarmers who've been dragged through a hedge backwards.

They might at least use the mirror. If you would tell Muriel that.

We don't know anyone called Muriel, Mother.

I'm not staying here to have her treat me like that. I may as well not be here!

-I've missed you. We've got a lot to chat about.

-Oh, Tim.

-We could go down the pub...

-Ssh!

-What?

-She's probably listening.

-No, she may be a monster, but she does not eavesdrop.

-Oh, she does!

-She's outside there, sure as eggs are eggs.

-She isn't.

-She is!

After 41 years, Muriel, allow me to know my own mother.

Oh!

Nasty draught!

FATHER SPLUTTERS

FATHER CLEARS HIS THROAT NOISILY

Sorry, Father, were you saying something?

It's nice, this.

What? Prunes?

Yes, prunes.

Yes, prunes.

Well, not just prunes. I mean, all of us here together.

Together...

round the dinner table.

The first time for six months.

Eat, drink and be merry, eh, Mum?

Anyone want some more squash?

FATHER COUGHS VIOLENTLY

Sorry, Father.

Is that yes or no? I wasn't sure.

Prune went down the wrong way, did it?

Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor...

-Librarian.

-Librarian! Ha ha ha!

Tinker, tail... Very good, that was.

I thought that was very funny.

Very funny indeed. Mind you, I've always found you very funny, Muriel.

We've always had a laugh together. You have a very nice turn of phrase.

Shall I give you a reading, Mother?

Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man, beggar man.

Oh, dear.

You're going to marry a beggar man.

-You'll get married in cotton and come home in a wheelbarrow.

-Huh!

The very word. Did you hear that, Muriel?

-Have you met your daughter?

-Yes, thank you.

-Oh, I'm getting through.

Welcome to the land of the living.

-Timothy! Stroppy!

-Sorry, Father.

-Don't answer back.

-This is nice, isn't it? All together.

-In the bosom of the family.

-Language, Timothy!

-Sorry.

Would anybody like to tell a story, perhaps?

Or I'll start.

There was a very funny incident at the library, the other day.

This chap came in...

Very interesting(!)

I've not finished. There's a bit more.

He was a perfectly ordinary chap and he came in, returning two books.

And...they were overdue.

Well, actually, they weren't both overdue.

One was overdue and the other one wasn't.

And, um...

Anyway, he came in...

..and he died!

Is that all?

What else do you want him to do?

He handed in his books and he handed in his marbles!

-Timothy, we're eating!

-I'm sorry.

I'm spoiling your enjoyment of these beautifully cooked prunes

by encouraging the family to enjoy some social intercourse.

MOTHER AND FATHER: Language!

Oh, dear!

So ends another meal at the Lumsdens'.

Total silence.

Utter misery.

-Nobody spoke.

-I spoke.

The monster spoke.

You spoke, Mother, but not to your daughter who is sitting next to you.

You didn't speak to her and she didn't speak either.

What sort of family is this, eh?

Other families smile and laugh. You see them on TV. They eat cornflakes.

The grandmothers are cuddly. The grandads have kiddies on their laps.

They romp with kites and spaniels. There are buttercups everywhere.

-They eat margarine!

-WE eat margarine!

I know, but it doesn't do any good. Look at us!

It's like the Chamber Of Horrors.

I'm going somewhere where there's life and companionship.

I have a woodlouse under my bed.

If I speak nicely to him, he unrolls,

which is more than I can say for you lot.

He's always like this when we have prunes.

CREAKING

-SHE SCREAMS

-Ooh! I'm sorry, Muriel.

-Oh, dear.

-What are you doing?

-I thought you were Mother.

-I came to get a drink.

-So did I. I need one.

-An evening of torture and never offered a drop.

Oh, hell! It's locked. Where's the key?

-She's probably buried it.

-Oh, no!

All is not lost, thanks to light-finger Lumsden,

hero of the resistance and amateur safe cracksman.

Remove the hinge pins.

Ha ha ha! How's that?

There we are! Mother is the necessity of invention.

-Scotch?

-Yes.

-Get yourself a glass.

Just like the old days, isn't it?

Remember the club we used to have? What were we called? The Silent Two.

Do you remember our handshake?

Back like that, turn round, thumbs... Ha!

Here we are then, Number Two. That was your rank - Number Two.

Whoa! Steady on!

The water's already in. I have to keep it up to Mother's mark.

She checks it every Christmas.

Honestly, Tim, just look at you.

-Stealing drinks in your own home.

-Oh, dear.

-Why don't you leave?

-They need me.

-Course they don't.

They do. They never remember to put the bacon rind out for the birds.

The longer you leave it, the worse it'll be.

I know what I'm doing. They need my rent.

-They don't.

-And if they're ill?

-They're not!

I've got nothing against living in a penthouse with a model but...

-It suits me here.

-That's nonsense.

-It isn't!

I am the master of the house...

-FOOTSTEPS

-Who's that? Is that Mother?

-What are you going to do, Lord and Master?

-Shut up!

What?

Oh! Muriel!

Do make yourself at home.

-I am at home, Mother.

-Who took that door off?

-We both did.

Oh, no.

Not you, Muriel.

You're a sensible, adult person.

I may not agree with everything you do -

your clothes, way of life, whom you marry -

but at least you're not a 41-year-old schoolboy.

-Timothy! Go to bed!

-Yes, Mother.

-Tim, you don't have to. It's up to you.

-Yes, it is up to me. I'll go to bed.

-Quick!

-For God's sake, stand up for yourself!

-I'll put my foot down.

-Nonsense! Up the stairs to Bedfordshire!

-That's about right.

Up the stairs to Bedfordshire. Skin a rabbit. Here comes the sandman.

Now, look what you've done to him.

Timothy, are you going to let your sister speak to me like that?

-No, Mother.

-Yes, you are!

-Yes, I am.

I'm going to enjoy my drink. YOU go upstairs.

-Are you defying me, Timothy?

-No, Mother.

-Yes, Mother!

-Yes, Mother!

Well!

I think of what I've done for you two and this is the gratitude I get.

I've given you everything and now I'm cast aside like an old shoehorn.

-Shoe, Mother.

-What?

-SHOE!

Don't you shoo me!

I'll go in my own good time.

I'm not feeling at all well.

-Good night, Muriel.

-Aren't you saying good night to Timothy?

We don't know anyone called Timothy here.

DOOR SLAMS

Look, I'm leaving at 6:30 in the morning to catch the London train.

You come as well. Leave this place.

-For good?

-For ever.

No... I mean... What about...? I've got all my stuff, you see.

I've got two tea chests full of the Meccano magazine, all marked out.

Forget about your Dinky Toys. Do you want to spend your life here?

-She'll never say yes.

-She won't say anything. She'll be asleep.

BIRDS SING

I've done it!

-I'm free!

-Come on.

-Timothy!

-It's Mother.

-Never mind her.

-Timothy!

-I'll nip back.

-Don't go!

-One minute!

One minute!

FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS

-What is it, Mother?

-I heard a noise.

I'm not feeling well. Could you get me my medicine?

Yes, Mother. I'm in a bit of a rush but I'll get it. That's it.

-There.

-Why are you up early? Why are you dressed like that?

I'm going jogging with Muriel. I'm seeing her to the station. Goodbye.

See you someday...soon. In a moment, probably.

FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS

All OK. Geronimo!

-Timothy!

-Now what?

-It's Mummy. Are you coming or not?

-I forgot to give her a kiss.

Ye gods and little fishes!

FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS

-What?

-You forgot the spoon for the medicine.

-It's in the kitchen.

-What's going on?

-Ooh!

CRASH! BANG! WALLOP!

-Are you all right?

-Yes, I think so.

-Into the taxi.

-Taxi? What Taxi?

-Come on!

-We'll only just make it.

-You'll be all right.

-Frank, what are you doing driving a taxi?

-One of my many talents.

-I think I can shake them off.

-Who?

God, it's Mother and Father!

-You wanted her to chase after you. That's why you woke her up.

-What?

Not good enough, Timothy!

-Frank, do something! Faster! Warp speed.

-Right.

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS

-Excuse me.

-Victor!

-Have you got a ticket?

You're a librarian, not a ticket collector.

WHISTLE BLOWS

This is only valid for non-fiction books.

Come on!

-'Scuse me.

-Come on! Come on!

I can't!

-Come on!

-Sorry. Sorry.

-Grab hold of this.

-Muriel! Muriel!

Moooo!

Moooo.

-Moo?

-He thinks he's a cow.

Muriel! Muriel!

She's gone to London, dear.

She wanted to stay and make sure you were all right but I packed her off.

-Where am I? Where am I?

-In your own little bed.

-What?

Yes. You slipped on the stairs.

You fell down and broke your crown.

I don't want to be here... Ooh!

You stay here.

-I'll look after you.

-I thought you were ill.

We can't both be ill, can we? I'm feeling a lot better.

Now, you lie absolutely still. The doctor's on his way.

I'm going downstairs

and while I'm away, I've asked Teddy to look after you.

Teddy will be Mummy, won't you, Teddy?

There!

DOOR SLAMS

Teddy will be Mummy.

Ow!

Mother!

Mummy!

Subtitles by Jayne Mackinnon and Emma Driffill, BBC - 1999