The Expert 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? #

KNOCK

Yes?

Morning, kidda. Seen me clean socks?

-Where's Thelma?

-She's gone.

-Pardon?

-Gone.

-To breakfast?

-No. GONE gone.

-Home?

-Obviously. My wife's left me.

-When?

-About six. I thought she'd gone to the bathroom but she's gone.

-It's early.

She doesn't still do a paper round?

Don't be flippant. It's not funny, Terry. It's not so funny at all.

-Sorry.

-Why?!

Why did she turn up last night?

Your average wife's lack of trust.

An innocent fishing weekend. Just the lads.

If it was a football excursion to Amsterdam

or a club outing to Morecambe, I'd understand.

But innocently fishing up the Tyne. I haven't done anything.

-I know. So why the dawn departure?

-That's your fault.

My fault? It always is when you're in trouble. How is it my fault?

You arranged something, with that barmaid.

What? I put out feelers. There was lots of winking going on but that never comes to owt.

Last night it did. Your number came up.

-She came up here?

-Yes.

She came up here after lights out, like?

After WE put the lights out, yes.

Oh, I see.

And Thelma thought that you and her were...

-It's not so funny.

-No, course not.

As far as I'm concerned it's tragic.

Yes, yes. It is tragic.

It is not a laughing matter, Terry.

My wife has left me thanks to your rendezvous.

You mean that barmaid actually...

-Well, I never. It is tragic.

-Thank you.

Tragic for me! A golden moment lost.

Typical of my rotten luck.

If it wasn't for bad luck, I'd have no luck.

I'll see Thelma and give evidence on your behalf.

No, you'd only convince her of my guilt.

I don't want your help or advice.

I've got to sort it out on me own.

Fine. Good. Right.

-What am I going to do?

-Pardon? You talking to me?

-Of course.

-I thought you were handling this.

I am. I'm just asking you. What am I going to do?

Look, Bob... Don't do anything.

Sometimes it's better not to try to explain. If there's a crisis, pretend it's not there.

-It's mind over matter.

-I don't follow.

-Remember Malcolm Price?

-Little Malc?

-Moustache and an odd walk.

-Odd moustache!

Women didn't think so. He always put it about.

Didn't he marry that Dougie Pringle's sister, Sandra?

Yes, I think so. Anyhow...

-Dougie only had one ear.

-Yes, Bob, I know.

At school we used to call him Lugless Douglas.

-Can we leave the reminiscences for later?

-Sorry. You were saying?

I was saying... What was I saying?

Malcolm was at a party. He works for a cosmetic firm, so imagine the crumpet.

He wakes up with a huge hangover and his wife says...

-Sandra.

-She says "I'm going shopping. Can I take the car?"

He says yes. He's looking for the roof of his mouth.

But what does she find on the front seat of the car?

-What?

-Only his underpants.

What were they doing on the front seat?

I know you've got a lot on your mind, but use a little imagination.

Oh, yes. Underpants. My word!

Quite. But the worst is yet to come.

There's a phone number written on the underpants in black eyebrow pencil.

Whose number was it?

A girl on the switchboard, but that's irrelevant.

What's important is his attitude in a crisis.

What would you say if your wife was waving some autographed Y-fronts?

Me? Oh, God.

I'd say "They're Terry's. I gave him a lift last night."

That's typical, that is. Trust you to turn round and blame me.

-What did Malcolm say?

-That's the whole point.

He just looked through her and said, "I refuse to discuss the matter."

And the matter was never discussed.

I refuse to discuss the matter.

Not like that. You have to say it like HE did so it'll never be brought up again.

I refuse to discuss the matter.

-I refuse to discuss the matter.

-That's better.

-I REFUSE to discuss the matter.

-Put a Thelma at the beginning.

Thelma, I refuse to discuss the matter. I absolutely refuse. I added an "absolutely"!

It helped.

Thelma, I absolutely refuse to discuss the matter.

No, no. That's a bit menacing. Be Henry Fonda not Anthony Quinn.

I refuse to DISCUSS the matter.

Perfect!

It's mind over matter. Convince her it doesn't matter and she won't mind.

-Right. Point taken. Convince her. Mind over matter.

-Good lad.

-But you'll come in with me?

-Oh! If you like.

We'll get her flowers or chocolates or a big fluffy teddy.

Bob, you're innocent! Good God, man, you know the laws of marriage.

The first principle is - presents equal guilt.

-Right. Good thinking.

-I'll finish packing and I'll see you downstairs.

-Terry.

-Now what?

That barmaid...

What did you say to get her up here, like?

I refuse to discuss the matter.

Will you wait for us, then?

-You can run me home when you've said what has to be said.

-That won't take long.

Quite. Go on, then. Shift yourself.

-Thelma, where are you going?

-To my mother's.

-Why?

-What do you expect?

About last night, I...

I refuse to discuss the matter.

-I've made you a nice hot cup of tea.

-She's left me!

-Drink it while it's hot.

-I didn't...

You don't take sugar, do you?

-She's left me.

-Not for long.

-How do you work that out?

-Case was too small.

You're such an expert(!) I should have bought chocolates or flowers or the teddy or all three!

-Fatal.

-What, pray, is more fatal than this?

It's another fence in the steeplechase of marriage.

What is important now is how you behave. That is critical.

I'm sick of your tuition, Master-bloody-mind!

I'm in this situation because you are my marriage-guidance counsellor.

Your marriage ground to a halt within months!

-It's only natural for you to be like this.

-Go away. Leave me alone.

It's natural for you to want me to go, the only person who can help.

Stop being so understanding. It does not become you. It does not!

It's natural to lose control. I understand.

All right. What would you do in this situation?

I'd never have got into this situation.

Letting me wife leave me? I'd have left HER!

So would I if I'd known she was leaving.

It's a bit late for that. As I say, it's what you do now that matters.

-What do I do?

-Nothing.

-Nothing?

-Nothing.

Do nothing.

Going round, ringing up, sending flowers - all that is fatal.

Pretend you don't give a rat's. Relax!

Ha, ha! My wife has left me. I don't give a rat's.

More champagne!

Relax? I'm at my lowest. My marriage is in shreds.

It's early days yet. Going back to their mother - they all do that.

You've got your whole lives. You're just at the dawn of your disasters.

You really are a great help(!)

I like to think so. Drink that tea while it's hot. All right, is it?

-It's very nice.

-Good.

-Shouldn't I go round?

Definitely not. They expect that. If you don't it confuses them.

The ball's in your court. Your advantage.

Just like a tennis match.

It is, man, and it's your service.

Knowing you it'll be a double fault.

Terry, how long were you actually married to Ute?

Well, I suppose...the best part of two years, on and off.

Mostly off.

So you didn't enjoy much of married life.

Not if you put it that way. Why?

In such a short time you're such an expert.

A working man's guide to marriage.

I'm giving the benefit of bitter experience.

Did you ever go through this with Ute?

Where she thought you were putting it about?

Aye, from time to time.

Nothing as drastic as Little Mal.

-There was once.

-What?

Somebody told Ute that while she was at work I was seeing this WAAF.

She was a canny thing, from up here. She could sup ale so we had a lot in common.

So Ute came home from work and she didn't half give me some stick.

German stick's worse than English stick.

She went on about the Waaf, said she was going back to her mother.

So, I said, "Just you wait one minute, my girl. Just you wait."

This is what you must tell Thelma.

"Ute," I said, "where is a marriage without some basic trust?

"Without the instinct telling you to trust your partner, where are we?

-"Where are we?" I said.

-And where were you?

Nowhere.

She found the Waaf in the airing cupboard.

KNOCK

-There you are. Now, drink that while it's hot.

-Thank you.

I put sugar in. Cocoa needs sugar.

-I thought she'd ring.

-Not from her mother's.

She's stopping her, like you are.

I'm not stopping you. I'm advising you.

Strong advice - saying you'll rip the phone out.

-She'll be back tomorrow.

-Perhaps.

You've got me here, and Norman.

Norman makes it worse, really. He smells of Thelma's cologne.

Oh, aye. He's a bit like that, is he?

-Will you be all right in the spare?

-Yes. I've slept in worse places.

I appreciate you staying.

-The least I could do.

-You'll be guarding the phone?

Your instinct is to ring her, knowing she's only two penn'th away, but that is what she expects.

Sometimes the unexpected gives you the edge on them. Remember Ronnie Oliver?

-Quiet lad. He married that Janet who was a bit...

-Yeah, always was.

She went out with Lugless Douglas.

Yes, so I heard.

More than he did, poor lad.

The point is, when Ronnie found she'd been seeing this car salesman,

his reaction was very surprising.

He dragged him through the car wash and threw him through the showroom window.

Exactly. But that wasn't like him. He wasn't happy.

It was for his marriage, and what was the result?

Three months for assault.

Yes, yes. But when he came back she hardly dared raise her voice to him.

Few of us did.

You get me point? It can pay to do the unexpected.

I should throw Thelma through a window?

Not at this stage, no.

Get yourself a good night's sleep.

Thanks, Terry.

You know, I've been thinking, Bob.

When Ute and I went through our crisis, we might have been able to save our marriage

if only I'd had a friend like me.

There's no answer to that.

Bob!

Drink your coffee while it's hot.

That's the time? Why didn't you wake me?

Cos you didn't get a wink till about four.

I heard you moving about and talking to Norman.

I should be at work.

Nobody expects you to work in a crisis.

-You should be here when she comes back.

-You think she will?

She'll get some clean things when she thinks you're out. That's when we lock her in the bedroom.

Look what you've made me do!

I wonder if you're worth saving.

-Lock her in the bedroom?!

-I've worked it out.

-Remember Alan Stand? Married a bonny girl from the dairy.

-Barbara.

-Barbara.

Her father was strange. He exposed himself on Whitley Bay seafront, August bank holiday.

-Can we go into that later, Bob?

-Fortunately it was a wet August.

The point is, Alan locked Barbara in the bedroom.

-Why?

-Because she went too far.

During one of her tantrums he locks the door and goes to see the lads.

Is that a sensible tactic?

Yes! They have time to cool off.

They can't get over it because it's unpredictable, masculine.

When you open the door you'll have a different woman, all humble and apologetic.

And desperate to go to the lavatory.

But it's hard for her to give you stick when she's dying for a pee.

That's very dodgy.

No. It's the old caveman bit and they all respect that in the end.

-Valid point.

-They know there's a man around.

-Remember Vin Welsh?

-In the greenhouse, with...

DOOR OPENS

-It's Thelma.

-I told you.

I told you she'd be back.

-I'll have a word.

-No, no. Let her come to you.

FOOTSTEPS

-She's going upstairs.

-Yes. To get a clean nightie and some toothpaste.

She hasn't come back to you yet. Now's your chance.

-What?

-To lock her in the bedroom.

-Go on, then. Go on.

-I just think... I think...

She's your wife. This is your house. This is where she belongs.

This way she can't go back to her mother,

otherwise it could drag on and on.

-That's a valid point.

-Caveman.

-Caveman.

-I just think...

-Go on!

This is our house, you're my wife and this is where you belong.

Good lad, I've got your coat.

Mr Ferris?

Mr Ferris, what's happened?

Mr Ferris, let me out.

-Cheers, pet.

-Thank you.

Now, drink that while it's cold.

It's not right drinking, with Thelma locked in the bedroom.

-Let her simmer for a while.

-She sounds like a stew.

You'll see the difference.

Is the heating on? It's very chilly.

She can always cuddle up to Norman. Let's play darts.

You're not emotionally involved, giving advice like Marjorie Proops.

I am involved in protecting the innocent and you are innocent, remember?

She wouldn't listen to your view.

-I was going to refuse to discuss it.

-She didn't even give you a chance to do that.

-I'll ring the library.

-What for?

-They'll wonder why she's not there.

-What will you say?

-Not that I've locked her up.

I'll say she's been taken poorly. Her old trouble's come back again.

-What is her old trouble?

-Chilblains.

Chilblains?

Sorry, er, this is Thelma Ferris's husband.

She won't be in today. She's feeling ill. Chilblains.

She won't be in. Just a minute.

It's your husband. He says you won't be in today.

-What are you talking about?

-Honest.

Here, let me have a word. Hello.

I'm ringing on behalf of Thelma Ferris.

She's not feeling too well.

-Best to keep her indoors, you know.

-Is it serious?

No, no. Just throat trouble - chilblains. She'll be back tomorrow.

-Thank you for letting me know.

-Not at all.

-What was that about?

Do you mind if I slip home and find out what's going on?

Perhaps your husband isn't feeling well.

-Come on, kidda. Get that down you.

-I feel terrible.

There's one solution. Throw yourself into your darts. Howay!

-What's going on?

-Mr Ferris locked some woman in his bedroom.

It's no good, I can't concentrate.

It's dangerous. Let's pack it in.

-That's five pence you owe me.

-All right.

You're such a worrier. Women don't like that. You have to be firm.

You've never been firm with women.

-I've always carried you through your crisises.

-Crises.

-Pardon?

-Crises.

-I carried you through them.

-You've caused them.

-I have not!

Since Park Juniors, if I ever had woman trouble, you were the cause.

As I recall, I stopped you from making a complete fool of yourself

over that English mistress - Miss Lundy.

There was something there, some spark when our eyes met.

I couldn't fail to be aware of it.

-She asked you to fill the inkwells.

-It was the way she said it.

Two years you spent topping up her inkwells and you never got nowt.

You never even passed English.

I stood a chance till you said I wrote that mucky poem in the bike shed.

It was for your own good. I stopped you from relationships that were no good.

Relationships you should never have got into.

Celia Fulcher, for instance.

You persuaded me to give her up then you went out with her.

-I could handle her.

-I wanted to!

She was wrong for you, as was the coloured nurse who wanted to take you home.

You'd be cutting sugar cane in the Windward Islands.

At least I'd be out of your way.

I might have built up a secure future there.

Except I'd jump at every ship's hooter

because you might come down the gangplank.

You always hurt the one you love.

I'm hurting the one I love now. What happened to Alan?

Ah, that was a bit unfortunate.

-How do you mean?

-She never spoke to him again.

-Oh, my God!

-He overdid it! He didn't open the door for three days.

Go on, then!

-Aren't you coming?

-You have to do it alone.

-You were there when I locked her in.

-That's different.

-What will you do?

-I'll sit here. You can have a cuddle.

-Then run me home.

-What if she leaves me again?

Then Thelma can run me home.

DOOR OPENS

Thelma, before I let you out I want you to listen to me.

This is our house, you're my wife and this is where you belong.

I want you to realise that I can be firm and domineering... and unpredictable.

Thelma?

Thelma, you wronged me with your assumptions, Thelma.

You wouldn't listen when I wanted to refuse to discuss the matter.

If only you'd listen to me.

I'm going to unlock this door now.

Come downstairs and discuss it.

I want you to realise that... I am the master in this house.

Thelma. Thelma.

Thelma.

I knew the Ferris family was insane.

Thelma.

I put down your absent-mindedness to eccentricity.

In fact, you're round the twist.

You ring and tell me I'm not where I am

and Mrs Greenlands says she won't come back while that madman's here.

-Unlock this door at once.

-You're being masterful now?

What WERE you doing? Think about it while I go back to my mother's.

Let me out, Thelma! Let me out!

Bob.

Bob!

-What?

-Could you make it onto this?

-The ladder might slip.

-I'll hold it.

-Quite! When's the locksmith arriving?

-He didn't say when.

-Did you ring for an ambulance?

-Why?

You'll need one!

Now, Bob, it's only natural for you to abuse your most loyal and valued friend.

-Here, take this.

-What is it?

I made you a flask of Oxo.

Now, drink it while it's hot.

Intelfax Subtitles by Kate Shaw for BBC Subtitling, 1995