The Old Magic Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads?

# Oh, what happened to you?

# Whatever happened to me?

# What became of the people we used to be?

# Tomorrow's almost over

# Today went by so fast

# Is the only thing to look forward to the past? #

Hello.

-Not before time.

-Hello, sunshine.

-How you feeling?

-Not before time!

-Not a word or letter.

-A letter?

-Or a card or a phone call.

-You're not on the phone.

-She is, next door. Anything would have done.

A carrier pigeon or smoke signals from your roof - anything.

Just to have some human contact.

-I've been up to my ears with the house and the wedding.

-And you put those before my health?

I can't risk infection. Everyone's going down with this Chilean flu.

I haven't got the time to be sick.

It's not the plague. We haven't got to paint our front door yellow.

-No writhing contortions and your hair falling out.

-So you've not been at death's door?

I didn't say I hadn't suffered. I coughed so hard I ruptured my lungs.

Chilean flu - it's fascinating, isn't it?

It's fascinating a virus can travel so far. Like Asian flu.

When my temperature was 103 and I was delirious,

the thing that consoled me was the fact I had such a fascinating virus.

-It comes in off the ships.

-And I get it.

According to Look North, our programme of local news, it's an epidemic.

What a month -

out of the forces, no money, no job, no mates, you getting married,

and some bug transports itself from the Andes, across two continents, two oceans and zeros in on me.

You're not the only one, by far.

-Cursed by the Incas. Typical!

-Half my firm's got it.

I bet I was first - the trailblazer.

No wonder you're delirious. What's this?

"Advice Forum. A frank exchange of personal and private fears."

What are your personal fears?

Apart from relegation and baldness.

Friends' desertion in time of need.

That pales compared to this fella. Did you read this?

-Anguished, Market Harborough?

-Where can he buy manacles and stocks?

-Mail order, I suppose.

-Comes in a plain wrapper.

Those letters stagger me.

I never realised bondage was that popular.

-It isn't, not on the Elm Lodge Housing Estate.

-Don't be too sure.

Those letters aren't from Copenhagen or Hamburg.

They're from Market Harborough and Evesham. There's even a Harrogate.

If that's a fair sample,

come Saturday night half this nation's in frilly underclothes, beating themselves with whips.

-Not everyone watches Match Of The Day.

-Healthy people do.

I was going to miss it on Saturday. If someone was better, I'd planned a treat.

-I'm not being whipped.

-That's not what I had in mind.

How about a meal in that posh place up the coast road?

-Bottle of wine, great big steaks.

-Why?

It might be the last chance, before I'm married, to have a chat.

A quiet evening. A civilised reflective evening.

I see. It's guilt at leaving me to rot.

If you don't want to accept this last gesture of my friendship...

-If you put it that way...

-What way?

-When you put that voice on.

-What voice?

Anna Neagle making a charity appeal.

If you mean my voice conveys some emotion, I don't deny it.

This week is the end of an era, and this meal was to commemorate it.

You make it sound more like a memorial service than a nosh-up.

-It is, in a way.

-Well, where's Thelma?

Thelma doesn't rule my leisure habits. She doesn't issue pass-outs.

-Anyway, Thelma's booked.

-What for? Soliciting?

For her girls' night out, for a hen party. Her sister's coming over from Canada.

I'd forgotten Thelma had a sister. Did we know her?

No. She's five years younger.

She got a job abroad.

-What's she like?

-I can't remember. I've only recently started noticing schoolgirls.

I might be all right at the wedding,

with her as the bridesmaid and me as the best man.

It's one of the unwritten laws -

the best man reads the telegrams and has the bridesmaid.

-Terry...

-You never know!

-I might as well chance me arm.

-Don't jump to conclusions.

I'm only going to chance me arm. I'll leave the rest of my anatomy till I see the lay of the land.

-I wasn't referring...

-Maybe she'll be the lay of the land.

Terry, you musn't take things for granted...about the wedding.

I see, Bob. That's what this meal's about, is it?

-Just the two of us, a reflective evening.

-Right.

-I understand, kidda.

-Do you?

-Certainly.

Thank God! You're having second thoughts.

NO! I am not. You never give up. I was referring to bridesmaids and best man.

I see, Dame Anna. It's moral outrage, is it?

Just because she's Thelma's sister.

I don't care, as long as you enjoy yourself.

What I was referring to wasn't your sexual menace.

It was...your status.

-Status?

-Lack of it.

-What do I lack?

-Best-man status.

-What?

-The best man at my wedding... My best man...

-Yes.

-Is not you.

It is in principle.

It's you in principle, just not in fact.

I'm not your best man?

I didn't know you'd reappear after five years, out of the blue.

-I'd already asked Frank Clark.

-You don't have to explain.

You think I'll let you down.

My working-class ways are too rough for your in-laws

with their caravans and Masonic handshakes.

How could someone like me possibly officiate at your wedding?

I might wear overalls and clogs and toast the bridesmaids in meths.

If I hadn't asked Frank you'd be the first choice.

I wear the substitute's shirt on the bench.

If his speech is lousy I come on in the last ten minutes.

Be reasonable. Not keeping in touch like that, you'd become a memory.

A fond one, but just a memory.

An IOU in your drawer. A scar on me shin from the time we fought over Brenda Davidson.

That's all I am to you, is it? A scar on the shin.

You could forget someone altogether in five years.

You didn't forget the IOU in your drawer. What was it for?

Morecambe Illuminations, 1967. Five-card brag. £11.42 and a half in decimals.

I'll let you off the half.

You'll get your money. I've been away, you know!

I know. That's why you're not the best man.

-So this meal's to make amends for this betrayal.

-The offer's open -

great food, big helpings, all on me.

I don't know if I can, Bob, after that news.

What with me virus and that blow, I couldn't eat.

My appetite won't ever be the same again.

I'll have prawn cocktail, fillet steak,

-chips, onion rings, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and sprouts, Can we have more bread?

-Certainly.

-How's the melon?

-It's lovely, sir.

-Fine. Then the entrecote - medium rare.

-Some vegetables?

No, just a green salad, tossed.

-No potatoes. Would you open the wine so it can breathe?

-Of course.

HE GASPS

What's the matter with you? Green salad, no chips.

-I watch my carbohydrates.

-Do you?

-This is very nice. Cheers!

-Cheers!

I'm glad you made a miracle recovery in 24 hours.

It's these foreign diseases.

When I needed help laying my carpet you'd lost the use of both legs and your sight was failing.

Today's wonder drugs.

Fine. Lovely, thanks.

-Agghh!

-Terry!

No hard feelings then, kidda?

It hurt, Bob. I can't say it didn't.

I've been closer to you than your mother, never mind Frank Clark.

Your first day at mixed infants.

It was that long ago when we met.

I remember. We were only five.

The teacher said, "There's your desk and crayons.

"Playtime's at ten and don't talk to Terry Collier."

Miss Hyndemarsh always had it in for me.

Character shows at an early age. Even at five, you were trouble.

"Don't talk to Terry Collier."

Our school motto!

I was you first friend. The first person to split your head open.

Frank Clark can't recall colourful anecdotes from the past.

Our anecdotes aren't fit for a wedding speech.

Frank Clark didn't sacrifice five years of his life for you.

-Oh, God! We're back to that.

-Yes.

Five years of sweat and toil... and pain.

-One day we'll hear about that famous war wound.

-Not from my lips.

You said that the most memorable thing to happen was getting tattooed on your left buttock.

What happened? Did the needle slip?

That waiter never did bring that bread.

-Is your friend all right, sir?

-He was cursed by the Incas,

-and during a full moon his leg plays up.

-I see.

-Did you clock them?

-I clocked you giving them your winning look(!)

-I've won a few with it.

-You've lost a hell of a sight more!

-They're tasty, though.

-They cured your limp.

Or was it a case of "Take up thy bread and walk"?

I'd like to know what they are doing alone in a place like this.

They're two girls having dinner.

Even before women's lib you had unescorted females in public places.

On a Saturday night? Spare? They're up to no good.

You've got some bigoted sexual ideas -

widows are desperate, women without handbags are depraved, negroes are more virile.

A few years ago a fella playing tennis was a poof.

A few years ago we wouldn't let the minutes tick by.

-Let's ask them over.

-Certainly not.

-They can pay for themselves.

No! I'm not out on the pull. It's the end of an era. That's what this meal's about.

Yeah, yeah. I suppose so.

A few years back they wouldn't have stood a chance.

-A few years back...no.

-Admit it. We didn't half put it about.

-Oh, aye! We were deadly.

-No woman was safe!

-A team!

-The terrible two.

-The dynamic duo.

-Twin strikers.

-Chivers and Hurst.

-Lee and Bell.

-Our best season?

1965, definitely - a vintage year.

-A good year for blue-eyed girls.

-Blue-eyed, green-eyed, cross-eyed - we took all we could.

-A string of victories.

-The champions of the Roxy ballroom.

-#

-We were the champ-ions!

-#

Oh, gracias, amigo.

-Thank you very much.

-Excuse me.

-Thanks.

1965... Did you... Did you really have a string of victories?

What?

I know we took a lot of girls out,

but did you have any complete, total, all-the-way victories?

If you put it that way...

-I am putting it that way. Be honest.

-Complete victories?

-Complete.

-All the way, like.

-All the way.

Honestly.

No.

-I thought so.

-And you?

-Extra time once with Dorothy Armison, but...

-You'd never crack that defence.

-I was thinking.

-What?

A whole season - we must have been the only twin strikers not to score.

-Aye! The end of an era.

-Aye, well.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

-Aye.

-It's one way of looking at it.

-They were grand days.

-The best is to come.

-Great times.

-It's one way to look at it.

When you think what we must have been like, eh?

Now we're mature and civilised but then we didn't know owt from nowt.

So randy - we chased everything that moved.

Mind, we were choosy - they had to be awake.

That was the only thing that mattered, and football.

I think we're still the same people underneath our civilised exteriors.

-I'm more mature now, sexually...

-Certainly...

-And experienced, like.

Life's all down to sex and football, isn't it?

-The same for everybody.

-No, some people don't like sex.

Takes all sorts.

My twin obsessions. That's what Thelma says. Sex and football.

She reckons the height of ecstasy for me

would be making love in E block, during a European Cup tie.

By the time we get into Europe, making love in public will be legal.

-You know Nigel Hutchinson?

-Oh, aye.

-He had to see a psychiatrist about his obsession.

-Never.

The doctor said that subconsciously he wanted to make love to every woman in the world.

-What's wrong with that?

-It was an illness. He'll go mad.

He's not going to get through North Shields, never mind the world.

There's always somebody worse off.

At least I won't go through that.

I'm content to be with just Thelma.

Come on! Being with Thelma never stopped you shopping around, especially at school.

I'm getting married, not carrying her satchel home from Park Juniors.

-Those two might be your last chance to grab somebody else's satchel.

-I don't want to.

I know...you're separated now and your marriage didn't work out,

but there must have been a time when your eyeballs didn't swivel out of their sockets

when you saw another fraulein.

There is never a time when a man doesn't notice other women.

Even Uncle Norman, 82, leapt on the Meals on Wheels lady the other day.

-Never.

-Aye. She's refused to go back.

Wasn't there a time with Ute when love was a many splendoured thing?

When I thrilled to the sound of her voice and all that rubbish - the gooey period?

When you weren't looking at every bit of passing skirt.

I don't know. I met Ute when I was in the army. I was a war bride...GROOM.

I wasn't in a town. I was on a windswept German plain.

The only excitement was a singsong and a cup of cocoa.

There wasn't any spare. I never had to test out my fidelity.

I don't know how I'd run the sexual gauntlet of this permissive society.

-I've managed.

-Yes, probably because you're saturated with sex.

Now you're limping into retirement.

I am aware of other women. I have to drive every morning past the Ministry of Pensions.

Don't tell me those teenage typists aren't a navigational hazard.

I don't forget my responsibilities as a fiance and a road-user.

-How come you ran into the back of a laundry van?

-Clutch slipped.

-Mind your brandy doesn't slip while you clock them two.

-I'm not!

-Get away!

-I'm not!

-I'm vaguely aware one of them's pretty.

-Which one?

The one with the dark hair who wrinkles up her nose.

Just a vague impression, was it?

Compared to Thelma, how could I? You'll find someone,

and you'll realise how wonderful it is to have found life's partner.

It's not Bob and Terry any more.

It's Bob and Thelma and their friend, Terry.

Thelma's my partner. There's new words in my vocabulary -

-marriage, trust, fidelity...

-Boredom.

-Old words, I've forgotten,

like tail, spare, score, crumpet.

Old days and old ways are gone forever.

I bet we could pull those two.

Those days are over you just said.

I just bet we could, that's all. A few years back...

We're entering another era. You've told me at least ten times tonight.

-We could pull them and score.

-Your vocabulary's come back.

-I fancy the dark one. I fancy them both.

-You've got Hutch's disease.

I just wonder, don't you? If the old technique's still there. The old magic.

Waiter. Watch this.

Could you ask those two ladies in the corner...

Could you say we recognise them and, if they don't think we're too forward,

-perhaps they'd join us for coffee and liqueurs.

-Yes, sir.

Bloody hell, that was good.

A few years back, on the way to the lav I'd have said, "Fancy a jar?"

Then it would have been a few jars and nothing.

-They've got the message.

-Down, boy!

-Remember this is your fault.

-I can handle it. I always could.

If they're American heiresses looking for some northern rough,

and they whip us off to their mansions in Palm Springs or Hawaii, with yachts, it wasn't my fault.

-They're only coming over!

-The twin strikers find their feet.

-Or lose their heads.

The old magic's still there.

-Good evening. Would you care to...?

-Oh, thank you.

I hope you don't think we were being too...

You see, it was just that we thought we knew you from somewhere.

-I'm Bob and this is Terry.

-I'm Norma.

-And I'm Susan.

Thought they looked familiar...

Yes, have you ever been to Palm Springs?

-Park Secondary Modern.

-Pardon?

-Pardon?

You won't remember. You were in the seniors when we were in the juniors.

You mean you remember us from then?

Bob Ferris and Terry Collier. Of course we do!

The teacher warned us about you. "Don't talk to Terry Collier."

-Not that you'd have talked to us. Not you.

-Really?

-We didn't have a look-in.

-Not with you.

-Really?

-You were objects of desire.

-Figures to idolise.

-A fantasy.

-Glimpsed from a distance.

-So near, yet so far.

Isn't it lucky we met?

You don't think we'd let you pick us up?

-No, no.

-No, no.

-But we had to meet you in the flesh.

You were legends in your own lifetime.

We do our best but it's not easy being a living legend.

-I think you've lost weight.

-Oh, yes. He watches his carbohydrates.

-You're the same. You were...

-WIRY!

-Would the girls like a drink, Bob?

-The bar's closed.

-Pardon?

-It's too late for a drink.

-No, it isn't.

-If we want a drink we'll have to go ON somewhere.

I see. Goodness me, the bar's shut. Well, we'll have to go on somewhere.

-Where were you thinking of going?

-Yes.

-Yes.

-Er, yes.

Good question. We could go back to my house.

We could go to my house. I have a house...where we could go back to.

We could go back to my house which would be a good place to... go back to.

Tell you what, why don't we go back to your house?

We can play a few records, have a few drinks.

We can have a few records, play a few drinks.

-I think that might not be a very good idea.

-Why?

-Why?

-It might be indiscreet, something you regret in the morning.

-I won't. I promise I won't.

-I won't either.

-It's a bad idea.

-Why? Please, why?

You're marrying my sister next week.

I don't feel well.

-Terry's come to see you, Bob.

-Not before time.

Here's your tea. Would you like a cup?

If there's one made.

-How've you been, petal?

-I have been at death's door.

Your mam says your temperature's never been above 101. The bug's lost its power.

Couldn't take the climate. It's flying back to the Andes, knackered.

It's fascinating though, how a little virus can travel that far.

Fascinating how long you took to get here.

-Hasn't Thelma visited?

-She's ill, too. Didn't go out with the girls.

-You're sure that's why she hasn't visited?

-She doesn't know. Susan didn't say.

-Didn't she?

-Don't sound so sorry.

Don't get at me. I tried to hold you back.

I don't know what came over you.

That wine went to your loins.

-Obviously the bug was in my system. Obviously I was delirious.

-Obviously(!)

I brought you this month's.

It's spreading. Worksop, Paignton, North Berwick - that place is full of Edinburgh widows.

-Can I ask you something?

-Anguished, Market Harborough's more anguished.

He's lost the key to his stocks.

-It's important.

-What about that? Maul of the month.

She's going straight into my next fantasy.

-I was going to ask you something important.

-Ask away, little pale face.

-I've had second thoughts.

-Ha ha!

-Not about my bride.

About the bridesmaid? She's a bonny girl, Susan.

You'll be all right there.

Of course I won't be. She'll be thigh-to-thigh with the best man,

and I'll be stuck next to my mother and one of your hideous cousins.

You won't. If you're thigh-to-thigh with anyone's thigh, it'll be hers.

That's what I wanted to say. I want you to be the best man, Terry.

What you said is perfectly true.

We've been through everything together,

so how could I not have you as my best man?

My best friend in all the world.

What about Frank?

Forget Frank. That's not important. The thing is...

will you do it?

I...don't know what to say, Bob.

It means a lot to me, Terry.

Well, of course I will, mate. It's my privilege.

-Here's your tea, Terry.

-Thank you.

Don't stand too close. You'll get re-infected.

I'd risk that...for a friend.

Isn't it awful about Frank Clark?

He's developed complications.

He's going to have to miss the wedding and everything.

IS he?

-Did I say something wrong?

-Ooh!

Intelfax Subtitles by Kate Shaw for BBC Subtitling, 1995