Cabin Pressure Transcript: 5.01 Zurich Part 1
Script by John Finnemore
Transcript by Ariane DeVere
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(Reprise of the end of ‘Yverdon-les-Bains’)
MARTIN They offered me the job, Arthur. I can start in three months!
ARTHUR: Wow! Skip! That’s absolutely ... just what you wanted! Great!
MARTIN: Yeah, but it’s not great for anyone else, though, is it – you, or Carolyn, or Douglas, if I go and MJN folds.
ARTHUR: Oh, we’ll be all right. We’ll find stuff to do.
MARTIN (hesitantly): Or ... I just might have been joking about getting an offer.
ARTHUR: Oh, right!
(He and Martin chuckle briefly.)
ARTHUR: I don’t get it. Were-were you joking?
(A door opens)
HERC: Ah. They’re in here.
DOUGLAS: Well? How did it go?
MARTIN: I-I-I-I-I was just telling Arthur about it.
ARTHUR: Yeah, but I didn’t completely understand.
CAROLYN: Well, then, tell us! Did you get in?
MARTIN: ... They’re going to let me know.
[Transcriber’s note: For anyone wondering, yes, this reprise must have been re-recorded. Some of the wording is slightly different, and Arthur’s dwagonfwoo lisp is missing.]
This week, Zurich!
CAROLYN: Yes, obviously they’re going to let you know, but how do you think it went?
MARTIN: Ah, well, er, parts of it went ... well ...
MARTIN: ... but other parts ... n-not so well.
DOUGLAS: It’s as if we were there.
ARTHUR: Skip, sorry, I’m still confused. When you said ...
MARTIN (rapidly interrupting): So-so-so overall who knows what they thought? No-one! Famously inscrutable, the Swiss, aren’t they? Like their-their-their clocks.
DOUGLAS: Yes, the legendary inscrutability of the cuckoo clock. Who can fathom its secrets?
ARTHUR: So, Skip, you were joking when you said ...
MARTIN (rapidly interrupting): Yes, Arthur. Just forget it.
DOUGLAS: Oh? What was the joke?
MARTIN: Nothing. Just a joke I made to Arthur. You wouldn’t get it.
DOUGLAS: I wouldn’t get it?
DOUGLAS: But Arthur would get it?
ARTHUR: Actually, I didn’t totally get it. But Skip said ...
MARTIN: Look, could we just drop it?
CAROLYN: So when are they going to let you know?
MARTIN: Well, er, soon. I just need some time to ... er, th-they just need some time to think me ... er, over.
HERC: Oh, did they say that? Well, that’s a good sign.
MARTIN: Well, no, I mean they ...
ARTHUR: Yeah, Skip, so just so I’m totally clear: when you said they offered the ...
MARTIN (loudly): All right, fine! Th-the truth is, they did tell me.
MARTIN (sighing): They said no.
(Everyone else simultaneously makes sympathetic noises.)
CAROLYN: Well then they’re idiots!
DOUGLAS: It’s their loss.
MARTIN: So MJN can carry on just as before.
[And maybe then Martin will have more time to learn to stop calling it ‘MGN’ ...!]
CAROLYN: Well, yes, but ... (in a sympathetic voice) ... oh, I’m so sorry, Martin.
DOUGLAS: There’ll be other chances.
ARTHUR: Oh, now I get the joke.
MARTIN (warningly): Arthur ...
ARTHUR: Because just now Skip told me they did offer him the job, but the joke was, actually they didn’t. ... It’s quite a sad joke.
CAROLYN: What’s going on, Martin?
THERESA (calling out from a distance): Martin!
(Sound of footsteps running closer.)
THERESA (excitedly): You did it! You did it! You did it!
MARTIN: I didn’t know you were ...
THERESA: I wanted to surprise you. I just got your message. I’m so proud of you. You did it! Oh! Hello, everyone. Have you told them yet?
MARTIN: I-I think they’ve probably gathered, yes.
CAROLYN: You got the job?
MARTIN: Er, yes. But ...
DOUGLAS: Congratulations, Martin!
HERC: Welcome to Swiss Airways.
CAROLYN: Although, in that case, what was all that nonsense just now?
ARTHUR: No, it was a joke, Mum! Am I the only one that gets Skip’s amazing jokes?
MARTIN: It wasn’t a joke. It was ... I-I thought I perhaps maybe I ... maybe I wouldn’t take the job.
DOUGLAS: Why on earth not?
MARTIN: Because when I told Arthur, I realised ... I can’t take it. What would happen to you all?
CAROLYN: What nonsense! Of course you’re taking it.
MARTIN: No, but ...
CAROLYN: It is a salaried job flying 737s for an international airline and living an hour from your girlfriend. It could only be more perfect for you if it came with a cartwheel-sized hat.
HERC: Oh. So you two are, um ...
MARTIN: Oh, sorry. Theresa, this is Herc, um, Carolyn’s ...
CAROLYN (swiftly): ... friend.
MARTIN: I was going to say ‘sparring partner’. Herc, this is Theresa.
THERESA: Pleased to meet you.
ARTHUR: She’s the princess of Liechtenstein.
HERC: I don’t think she is, Arthur.
THERESA: Actually, I a little bit am.
HERC: Oh! So sorry – I assumed Arthur had, er ...
THERESA: No, don’t worry. I would have assumed the same.
MARTIN: Carolyn, I can’t ...
CAROLYN: No. If it helps, Martin, you’re fired. Oh – I’ve always wanted to fire someone. ... I thought it would be more fun.
DOUGLAS: Perhaps you’re mellowing in your old age.
CAROLYN: You’re fired too, Douglas. Now that was fun.
MARTIN: What about Douglas? What’s gonna become of him?
DOUGLAS: Thank you, Martin, but I suspect I can dodge the workhouse. I rather think I’ll become a captain again.
HERC: Will you? Where?
DOUGLAS: Wherever, Hercules, wins the bidding war for my services.
HERC: Ah, of course.
MARTIN: And what about Arthur?
CAROLYN: Arthur will be fine.
ARTHUR: Yeah, don’t worry about me, Skip. I’ve got loads of ideas of things to be. Fisherman; er, magician; dog guy; or I might just take the, er, crazy golf thing professional.
MARTIN: Or you could have my van.
ARTHUR: Skip! Your dad’s van?
MARTIN: Well, I can’t very well take it to Zurich, so, I mean, if you wanted it ...
ARTHUR: Skip, I’d love it! Can I, Mum?
CAROLYN: Well, I-I can actually sort of see you as a Man with a Van.
ARTHUR (excitedly): Yes!
MARTIN: Now, listen: you’ll probably need to replace the brake pads in a year or two, then.
ARTHUR: Right-o, Skip.
MARTIN: And, er, and, er, get good ones. If you skimp on that sort of thing, you’ll only pay more later.
ARTHUR: Got it.
MARTIN: Also, when you change the oil, add half a cup of ...
DOUGLAS: Yes, probably best make him a list, Martin.
CAROLYN: And it’s very generous of you and much appreciated. So, there we are: everyone will be fine.
ARTHUR: Oh, but who’s gonna look after GERTI?
CAROLYN: Well, whoever buys her, dear heart.
ARTHUR: You can’t sell her.
CAROLYN: Really? What would you have me do with her: fashion her into a pleasing brooch?
ARTHUR: But not to Dad. You promise you won’t sell her to Dad?
CAROLYN: Of course not! My awful ex, Theresa. Used to own GERTI. Keeps trying to buy her back.
ARTHUR: Or steal her back, like he did in St Petersburg.
THERESA: Oh, was that the time Martin landed with one engine?
CAROLYN: That’s right!
THERESA: Yes – he’s often told me that story!
MARTIN: Not that often.
THERESA: Quite often.
CAROLYN: So, happy endings all round. Martin gets his dream job, and MJN bows out on its own terms in a blaze of glory. Hurrah!
MARTIN: Doesn’t feel like a happy ending.
CAROLYN: It is a happy ending – just not a fairytale ending. We can’t expect that. Real happy endings are never simple.
ARTHUR: Yes they are. Like in ‘Finding Nemo’ when they find Nemo. Or in ‘Casablanca’ when the woman gets a go on the plane.
CAROLYN: It’s not!
ARTHUR: I suppose maybe ‘The Jungle Book’ when you’re meant to be happy that Mowgli goes off with the boring girl to the human village instead of hanging out with Baloo and Bagheera. That’s a kind of sad happy ending.
CAROLYN: Yes, exactly.
CAROLYN: I’ve no idea, but if it helps him.
(GERTI’s cabin door opens)
HERC: Oh, you’re in here.
CAROLYN: Er, yes.
HERC: Well, I thought you handled that superbly.
HERC: Well done. And they all took it terribly well – even Arthur.
HERC: And actually I think Martin’s van might be just the right thing for him, if, er ...
CAROLYN (broken-heartedly): Oh, Herc.
(Sound of her moving into his arms.)
CAROLYN: I knew this couldn’t go on forever but we always managed to keep going and now ... it’s over.
HERC (sympathetically): Oh, my darling.
CAROLYN: And what am I going to do now?
HERC: Well, you know you can always move to Zurich with me.
CAROLYN (strongly): I don’t want to move to stupid Zurich!
HERC: No, of course not. Silly me.
CAROLYN: And its stupid clocks!
HERC: Very stupid clocks.
CAROLYN: I’m sorry. I like you, but what would I do with myself in Zurich? What will I do with myself anywhere?
HERC: I – I understand, but, you know, Martin really must ...
CAROLYN: Of course I know that, you pillock! I just said all that, but in the privacy of what is still – for now – my own aeroplane, am I not allowed to be sad about it?
HERC: Of course you are. ... You know the thing we’ve agreed I should say only on special occasions because continued one-way repetition of it is always unhelpful and manipulative?
HERC: This feels like a special occasion.
HERC: I love you, Carolyn.
CAROLYN (drawing in a breath): I ... (long pause) ... know.
(Sound of a plane in flight.)
RICK (into radio): Thank you, Herm, this is Golf Romeo India Mike Yankee, airborne heading two one zero, direct Guernsey.
AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL (over radio): Roger, Mike Yankee, continue as cleared.
RICK: And we’re away. You okay there, Doug?
DOUGLAS (yawning): Yeah. D’you always start this early?
RICK: Well, yeah. Delivering newspapers – gotta be there first thing.
DOUGLAS: All right, here’s one: People Who Should Have Been Arch Enemies.
RICK: You what?
DOUGLAS: I’ll start. Jon Snow and John Thaw.
RICK: No, sorry, I don’t get it.
DOUGLAS: Arch enemies. You know, because of their names – Snow and ... Thaw.
RICK: Are you all right, mate?
DOUGLAS: Yes, I’m fine!
RICK: Great. Only I had an uncle started coming out with all weird stuff once. Turned out it was a stroke.
DOUGLAS: I am not having a stroke! It’s a game.
RICK: A game?
DOUGLAS: Yes! You know, to pass the time.
RICK: Yeah – I’m-I’m not really a games sort of person, to be honest.
DOUGLAS: ... Right. And, er, are you the only first officer with the company?
RICK: First officer? No, mate, I own it. If you get the gig, it’ll just be you and me.
DOUGLAS: But ... I would be the captain?
RICK: Never really had a captain.
DOUGLAS: Right, but obviously one of us will technically be in command of the plane?
RICK: Well, I suppose that’d be me. Wouldn’t worry about it, though.
DOUGLAS: No, I won’t. So: how do we pass the time?
RICK: I’d just rest up if I were you. It’s pretty full-on once we get there. We’ve only got thirty minutes turnaround each stop.
DOUGLAS: That doesn’t sound too bad. Is there a café of some sort, or can we get coffee sent out?
RICK: No, mate. We’ve only got thirty minutes to unload the plane.
DOUGLAS (appalled): ‘Unload the plane’?
RICK: Yeah. Who else?
DOUGLAS: Anyone else!
CAROLYN: And those two boxes are going to my house. Take them outside. Arthur’s bringing the van round. And ... (she sighs) ... that’s everything.
MARTIN: Wow. Doesn’t the office look empty without ...
DOUGLAS: ... anything in it? Yeah.
CAROLYN: Oh! Unless I can interest either of you in buying a sunbleached print of two Spitfires fighting in a clear green sky. Martin? Obviously I’m mainly looking to you.
MARTIN: Er, no thank you, Carolyn; and that one’s not a Spitfire.
CAROLYN: How can you tell?
MARTIN (quick fire for the first part of the sentence): Well, partly because of the wing shape, fuselage and markings, but mainly because Spitfires didn’t fight each other.
DOUGLAS (calling from a distance): Martin, come on!
MARTIN (loudly): Coming! (Quietly) I’ll give you a fiver for it.
(Outside the portacabin)
DOUGLAS: So, Martin. How’s the conversion course?
MARTIN: Well, we’re ... you know, we’re only a week in. It’s all been CRM stuff so far. We learned our personal watchwords yesterday.
MARTIN: Apparently the perfect Swiss Airways pilot is calm, resourceful and decisive.
DOUGLAS: Well, I can see now why they picked you.
DOUGLAS: I’m sorry, Martin. I-I-I didn’t ...
MARTIN: No-no-no, it’s-it’s okay, it’s okay. The same thing had crossed my mind.
DOUGLAS: So you haven’t been in the sim yet?
MARTIN: Oh yes, once! Ah, Douglas, oh it’s amazing! The new 737s, they’re just incredible. After GERTI it’s-it’s-it’s like driving a Rolls Royce after years of driving a ...
(A vehicle drives up rapidly. The horn is beeped as the vehicle slows to a halt.)
ARTHUR (calling out): Hi, guys!
MARTIN: Oh my God!
ARTHUR (opening the vehicle’s door): Ta-daa! It’s your van, Skip! My van! Our van!
MARTIN: Why is there a sort of evil hippo on it?
ARTHUR: Ooh, where?
MARTIN: Here, on the side.
ARTHUR: Oh, that’s not a hippo! That’s Goofy! Why does no-one recognise Goofy any more?
DOUGLAS: Because of the horrendously disfiguring accident he’s apparently had?
ARTHUR: He’s not had an accident! I painted it myself.
DOUGLAS: Yes, I thought perhaps you did.
MARTIN: But why?
(He opens the rear doors.)
ARTHUR: Double ta-daa!
MARTIN: What are those?
ARTHUR: Ice lollies! Surprise! I’ve turned it into an ice cream van!
MARTIN: Arthur, you-you can’t do that.
ARTHUR: I did, though.
MARTIN: But it’s a Transit van! It’s for light removals!
ARTHUR: I know, Skip, but I thought, ‘What do people like even more than moving house? Ice cream!’
DOUGLAS: So, how did you turn it into an ice cream van?
ARTHUR: Pretty easy, actually. I bought ten boxes of lollies and an ice cream guy hat and I painted Goofy on it.
(Sound of Martin moving the boxes around)
MARTIN: Arthur, these are all Calippos.
ARTHUR: Yeah, they’re my favourites.
MARTIN: Why have you only got strawberry flavour?
ARTHUR: Ah, that’s me being clever. I’m not allowed strawberries, so I won’t be tempted to eat them! Come on, get in, get in!
MARTIN (as they get into the van): No, but Arthur, you can’t just sell ice creams from any old van. You need a licence, a pitch ...
DOUGLAS: A freezer.
ARTHUR: Er, no, no. No, I bought some cool bags. I think they’re basically the same thing. Oh, and, um, Skip, look what else I bought!
(He accelerates the van and then brakes sharply. Martin and Douglas cry out.)
DOUGLAS: What did you do that for?
ARTHUR: See? I’ve had the brake pads replaced, like you said!
MARTIN: I said in a year or two.
ARTHUR: Yeah, and I did it straightaway. And I got the most expensive ones they had.
MARTIN: Did you?
ARTHUR: Yeah. Carbon fibre. They didn’t want to sell them to me but I insisted because you told me not to skimp.
MARTIN: How much did you ...?
ARTHUR: Two thousand pounds! Which is great, because that’s exactly what I had in the bank!
MARTIN: You spent all your money on brake pads?
ARTHUR: Well, yeah, but it’s okay. It’s an investment.
MARTIN: Arthur, the whole van’s only worth about five hundred quid!
ARTHUR: Not any more, Skip. It’s now worth two thousand five hundred!
DOUGLAS: So what you essentially have now, Arthur, is some extremely expensive brake pads which – for convenience – you keep wrapped up in a cheap van.
ARTHUR: Oh, oh, and then there’s the best best thing.
MARTIN (warily): What?
ARTHUR (dramatically): The chimes. I’ve done my own ice cream chimes. Listen!
(He inserts a cassette into a player and his own voice starts to play from it.)
ARTHUR’s VOICE (singing to the tune of ‘Greensleeves’, with no musical accompaniment): ♪ Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice.
Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, ice cream, get your lovely ice cream. ♪
(His voice goes very off-key at the end.)
MARTIN: Er, yes, that’s ...
ARTHUR’s VOICE (straining for the high note at the beginning of the chorus): ♪ I-i-ice cream, i-i-i-ice cream, i-i-i-ice cream, i-i-i... ♪
(The cassette is turned off.)
DOUGLAS: Yes, I think that will do.
ARTHUR: There’s loads more.
(Cabin door opens)
THERESA (fondly): Oh! She’s just like I remember her!
MARTIN: Thank you so much for coming over for this, Theresa.
THERESA: Of course. I wouldn’t miss GERTI’s last flight.
MARTIN (softly): No.
THERESA: It’ll be all right, Martin.
MARTIN: Will it, though? I mean, Arthur’s only had the van five minutes. He’s spent his life savings on brake pads and ice cream. Douglas is being very quiet about his interview. Actually, Theresa, I, um ... I had an idea in bed last night.
THERESA (flirtatiously): I remember.
MARTIN: Hmm? No – oh, no, no. Er ... (he laughs in an embarrassed way) ... er ... (he laughs again) ... I-I-I, er, I-I didn’t mean that. I-I-I ...
THERESA (laughing): I’m sorry, Martin, I’m sorry. I-I just love how quickly I can make your ears turn red.
MARTIN (chuckling): Thank you. Look, it’s-it’s-it’s probably a stupid idea, but you know how you’re the princess of Liechtenstein?
THERESA: That rings a bell, yes.
MARTIN: Well, it just occurred to me: I don’t think Liechtenstein has a national airline, does it?
THERESA: No, we don’t.
MARTIN: You know, funded by the nation – only Liechtenstein, being such a small nation, it could be quite a small airline.
THERESA: Mmm-hmm. You know what else Liechtenstein doesn’t have?
THERESA: An airport.
MARTIN: Oh. No, no-no, no, that’s-that’s true.
THERESA: Martin, trust me, you’re going to do great at Swiss Airways. You just need to find your feet.
MARTIN: What? No, no! No-no-no-no-no, it ... I-I-I’m just thinking of the others.
THERESA: I know.
MARTIN (into radio): Thank you, Fitton Approach. Golf Tango India airborne, climbing to four thousand feet.
KARL (affectionately over radio): Oh. We’ll miss you, GERTI.
MARTIN: Karl, please.
KARL: Yeah, roger, Golf Tango India. ... Oh, look at her up there, flapping away, all happy. She doesn’t know she’s off to the vet’s!
MARTIN: Tower, will you please keep communications ...
KARL: Yeah, yeah. ... At least give us a wing waggle, though.
DOUGLAS: Oh, go on!
MARTIN: Oh, all right.
(GERTI’s engines change pitch momentarily. Karl cheers. The cabin door opens.)
CAROLYN: Ah, drivers. I have made you coffee.
(Sound of her putting the mugs down.)
MARTIN: What? You?!
DOUGLAS: This is not the Carolyn we know.
CAROLYN: Yes, well, strange and miraculous things can occur on last flights, especially when Arthur’s not aboard. Oh, and Martin, do try particularly hard not to bend her on landing, won’t you? The irony would be too much for me.
DOUGLAS: Carolyn, after the auction, how are we getting home?
CAROLYN: Herc’s picking me up in his Mercedes.
MARTIN: Surely we won’t all fit in that.
CAROLYN: No, certainly not. None of you will fit in it. For you, Arthur’s bringing his van.
DOUGLAS: There’s the Carolyn we know.
(Whine of feedback from a microphone)
AUCTIONEER: All right, ladies and gentlemen, next we have Lot 42, registration Golf Echo Romeo Tango India.
MARTIN: Carolyn, where’s Arthur? He’ll miss it.
CAROLYN: I hope so. That’s why I told him the wrong time. He doesn’t need to see this.
AUCTIONEER: Ah, yes, this is rather fun. (He chuckles.) A Lockheed McDonnell 3-12, and not only is it in one piece, it actually flew here!
DOUGLAS: Encouraging start.
AUCTIONEER: Still, an ideal purchase for, erm, all sorts of people, I’m sure, so who’ll start me off at eight thousand pounds?
MARTIN: Only eight thousand?
THERESA: That’s just where he’s starting.
AUCTIONEER: No? Seven and a half. ... Seven thousand pounds.
CAROLYN (sadly): Oh dear.
AUCTIONEER: Six and a half. Oh, come on, ladies and gentlemen. For scrap metal alone she must be worth six.
DOUGLAS: Poor old girl.
AUCTIONEER: Bruce, I’m looking at you.
BRUCE: I’ll give you five.
AUCTIONEER: Thank you, Bruce. Five thousand I’m bid, so do I hear six? Six, anywhere? ... Five and a half?
MARTIN: Come on, that’s nothing!
CAROLYN: It is a little disappointing.
AUCTIONEER: No? No-one? This is your very last chance. All right: going once, going twice ...
MARTIN: Five and a half!
AUCTIONEER: Ah, thank you, sir. Five and a half I have.
CAROLYN: Martin, what on earth are you doing?
MARTIN: Don’t worry, I’m just driving him up a bit.
CAROLYN: But you don’t know if someone ...
AUCTIONEER: Bruce, do I hear six?
MARTIN: There you are, you see? I just made you a thousand pounds.
CAROLYN: Well, thank you, but don’t!
AUCTIONEER: Six thousand I have. Do I hear six and a half?
CAROLYN: Martin, do not say a word.
AUCTIONEER: Six and a half! Thank you!
CAROLYN: I didn’t mean you should nod!
MARTIN: I think I’ll go higher.
DOUGLAS: But what if he doesn’t?
AUCTIONEER: Do I hear seven?
DOUGLAS: All right, now Martin, stop.
CAROLYN: Yes, seven is plenty. I forbid you to bid.
AUCTIONEER: Do I hear seven and a half?
MARTIN: Just one more.
DOUGLAS: No! Do Not Nod!
CAROLYN: Theresa, grab his head.
AUCTIONEER: Thank you, sir! Seven and a half I’m bid.
CAROLYN: Theresa! Didn’t you hear me?
THERESA: You were serious?
AUCTIONEER: Er, Bruce, do I hear eight?
DOUGLAS: Martin, listen to me. I know what you’re doing, and God knows I understand, but you have to stop.
MARTIN: I’m just trying to drive him up.
DOUGLAS: You’re not. You’re trying to win.
AUCTIONEER: Do I hear eight and a half?
MARTIN: Would that be so bad? I can get a loan. Then we’d have her, and if things don’t work out ...
DOUGLAS: Martin, I need you to calm down.
MARTIN (very not calmly): I am calm. I’m being calm, and decisive, and resourceful!
DOUGLAS: No, you’re panicking, and making the wrong decision with resources you don’t have.
MARTIN (frantically): I know! Because that’s what I do! So I can’t go to Zurich, can I? I’m not good enough. So we have to keep GERTI!
AUCTIONEER: I have to press you, sir. Any advance on eight thousand?
MARTIN: I ...
A NEW MALE VOICE (in an Australian accent): Yeah, fifteen thousand pounds.
(The crowd gasps.)
THERESA: Oh, wonderful!
DOUGLAS: Not entirely.
AUCTIONEER: Ah! Fifteen thousand I have, from a new bidder at the back.
MARTIN: Arthur’s dad. The one who tried to steal her.
GORDON: Hiya, Carolyn. How you keeping?
AUCTIONEER: Fifteen thousand pounds I hear for this really rather decent little biz-jet. Do I hear sixteen thousand? Bruce?
BRUCE: No. I’m done. Page me when Lot 60’s up.
(Sound of him walking away.)
AUCTIONEER: Very well, then. If we’re all done at fifteen thousand. Going once ...
CAROLYN (urgently): Twenty thousand pounds.
CAROLYN: Well, I’m not letting Gordon have her.
AUCTIONEER: Madam, you cannot bid on your own lot.
CAROLYN: Fine. Douglas, bid twenty thousand pounds.
DOUGLAS: I’m not bidding on it!
CAROLYN: Yes you are.
DOUGLAS: I’m not! Even if I had the money ...
CAROLYN: We’ll work that out afterwards. Just bid!
DOUGLAS (sighing): Twenty thousand pounds.
AUCTIONEER: Ah-ha! Twenty thousand pounds I have from the man standing next to – but I’m sure utterly unconnected with – the owner. Do I hear thirty?
AUCTIONEER: Thirty I have. Forty?
CAROLYN: Carry on! We’ll have it annulled afterwards.
DOUGLAS: I’m not sure you can do that.
CAROLYN: Just bid!
AUCTIONEER: Forty thousand! Do I hear fifty?
AUCTIONEER: Fifty thousand pounds I am bid for this often under-rated gem of an aircraft.
DOUGLAS: Carolyn, wait. Fifty thousand? That’s ridiculous!
CAROLYN: He doesn’t care about the money. He just wants to get back at me.
DOUGLAS: Yes, but you do care about the money.
CAROLYN: Not that much. Sixty!
AUCTIONEER: Madam ...
CAROLYN: Oh, right. Douglas.
DOUGLAS: No, Carolyn, listen. He’s up to something. Either he’s trying ...
CAROLYN: Fine. Martin.
MARTIN (absently): Yes?
CAROLYN: Say sixty!
MARTIN (normal voice): Sixty.
CAROLYN: To the man, you idiot!
MARTIN: Oh, sorry. (Louder) Sixty!
AUCTIONEER: Ah-ha! Sixty thousand pounds from another, new ... oh, no, my mistake – from an old friend! Welcome back to the fray, sir!
AUCTIONEER: Do I hear eighty?
ARTHUR (approaching): ’Scuse me, guys. Have I missed anything?
DOUGLAS: Oh, this and that.
CAROLYN: Go ahead, Martin.
MARTIN: Eighty thousand!
ARTHUR: Wow, what’s Skip buying?
ARTHUR: Oh, good. ... Although couldn’t we just have given him ...
DOUGLAS: Not now, Arthur. I’m thinking.
CAROLYN: We’re not really buying it, Arthur. We’re trying to stop your father from buying it.
ARTHUR: Dad? What, here? Is he here?
AUCTIONEER: Do I hear ninety?
GORDON: Ninety thousand.
ARTHUR (panically): Oh! Dad! Here! He can’t buy GERTI! He mustn’t! He can’t have her! (Loudly) Objection, my Lord!
MARTIN: Arthur, that’s not what ...
CAROLYN: Don’t worry, dear, we’re not going to let him. Go on, Martin.
MARTIN: A hundred thousand!
ARTHUR: Oh, thank you, Mum, thank you.
GORDON: A quarter of a million!
(Gasps from the crowd)
DOUGLAS: My God!
AUCTIONEER: A quarter of a million pounds! For this timeless classic! The bid is with you, sir.
MARTIN (urgently): What do I say? Half a million?
CAROLYN: No-no-no, wait-wait-wait-wait.
ARTHUR: What? What are waiting for?
CAROLYN: A quarter of a million pounds, though.
ARTHUR (high-pitched and frantic): Yes, but Dad can’t have her!
AUCTIONEER: Do I hear half a million?
CAROLYN: Just wait! I’m thinking.
ARTHUR (frantically): But Mum, he wants to cut GERTI’s tail off and put it over his fireplace!
CAROLYN: Yes, I know, darling.
AUCTIONEER: Going once.
ARTHUR: He can’t!
AUCTIONEER: Going twice.
ARTHUR (loudly): TEN MILLION POUNDS!
AUCTIONEER: Ten million pounds I have! Ten million pounds for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to own a masterpiece of aviation. Any advance on ten million pounds?!
GORDON: No. For that, you can keep her.
CAROLYN: All right. Follow me, my little gaggle of investment tycoons. Douglas, where are you going?
DOUGLAS: I need to talk to someone. Don’t do anything without me.
CAROLYN (calling after him as he walks away): I shall do as I like without you! (Quieter) Right.
(Knock on a door)
CAROLYN: Coming in!
AUCTIONEER: Er, no, this is my office. I say, ‘Come in’!
CAROLYN: My way saves time. Now then: about this sale.
AUCTIONEER: Oh yes, congratulations, madam. A fabulous result.
CAROLYN: Fabulous indeed. Let me introduce you to the fabulist.
CAROLYN: Behold the ten million pound bidder. Drink him in. Observe his haircut. Dwell on his shoes. Does he have the looks, do you think, of a billionaire out on an aeroplane-buying spree?
AUCTIONEER: An ... eccentric billionaire?
CAROLYN: Eccentric, yes; billionaire, no. This is my son. He’s a lovely boy, but he lives in a fantasy world.
ARTHUR: Oh, thanks, Mum!
CAROLYN: So may I suggest you track down that nice scrap metal dealer pronto and see if he’s still interested?
AUCTIONEER: Er, no. The next lowest bid was the Australian gentleman.
CAROLYN: Ah, more bad news, I’m afraid. That was Gordon, the boy’s father, and one-man answer to the question, ‘Where does he get it from?’ They’re always doing this together.
CAROLYN: Code Red, Arthur. And of course the other two bidders, as I fear you guessed, were mere stooges of mine.
MARTIN: I’m not a mere stoo...
CAROLYN: Code Red, Martin.
AUCTIONEER: Was there anyone bidding on your lot who actually intended to buy it?
CAROLYN: How astute of you to ask. There was indeed: Bruce the scrap metal chap. So may I suggest once again that you go and find him?
DOUGLAS: Mr. Shappey? Mr. Shappey!
GORDON: Ah. You. Hey, what the hell do you want?
DOUGLAS: What was all that about in there?
GORDON: What, the boy going off his head? Search me. You know him better than I do. Well, enjoy your pretend money.
DOUGLAS: No – bidding a quarter of a million. Were you trying to sabotage the auction?
GORDON: No – I was trying to get my bloody plane back. That woman stole it off me in the divorce, and one day I’m having it back. You can tell her that from me.
DOUGLAS: Or, better yet, I can help you get it off her.
GORDON: How? Steal it?
DOUGLAS: That really is just where your brain automatically goes, isn’t it? No, not steal it, but I think I can persuade her to reconsider your offer.
GORDON: And why would you do that?
DOUGLAS: Because she’s a fool to throw that much money away out of pride; plus, of course, ten percent brokerage fee.
GORDON: You really are a slimy little con man, aren’t you?
DOUGLAS: A compliment from the master. Are we on?
GORDON: You’re on.
(Office door opens)
AUCTIONEER: Well, you are extremely lucky, madam.
CAROLYN: You could absolutely have fooled me.
AUCTIONEER: Bruce Fraser was prepared to stand by his final bid of eight thousand pounds, and I’ve allowed the transaction to go ahead.
CAROLYN: Excellent. Now, then ...
AUCTIONEER: But understand this.
CAROLYN: Yes, yes, I do.
AUCTIONEER: I haven’t said it yet. Understand this ...
CAROLYN: I’m sure I can imagine it. There we are, boys: GERTI sold and Gordon vanquished. A happy ending.
MARTIN, ARTHUR and THERESA (simultaneously and sounding anything but happy): Yeah.
(Office door opens again)
DOUGLAS: Carolyn! There you are.
CAROLYN: Ah, Douglas. Good news ...
DOUGLAS: Whatever you do, don’t sell GERTI.
CAROLYN: Well, that certainly takes the edge off the good news.
DOUGLAS: You have? Already? How?
CAROLYN: I certainly have. Eight grand to the scrap metal guy.
DOUGLAS: Cancel the sale.
CAROLYN: What? Why?
DOUGLAS: Because I just spoke to Gordon. He means it. He’s seriously prepared to spend a quarter of a million on her.
MARTIN: How do you know?
DOUGLAS: Because I offered to sell her to him.
DOUGLAS: Well, I was lying, obviously, but he went for it, which means she must be worth much much more than that.
CAROLYN: How could she possibly be?
DOUGLAS: Well, I don’t know. Maybe he hid something on her before you divorced.
MARTIN: What, that we haven’t found in thirteen years?
DOUGLAS: I don’t know. I just know she’s worth a lot of money to him.
CAROLYN: No, no, no, no. I’m sorry, Douglas. I’d love to believe it, but he’s just doing it to get back at me.
DOUGLAS: Men like Gordon do not get back at their ex-wives by giving them a quarter of a million pounds. Trust me, Carolyn. Am I ever wrong?
CAROLYN: Yes, repeatedly. Far more often than your relentless self-propaganda would have us believe.
DOUGLAS: Am I ever wrong about this sort of thing?
CAROLYN: Well ...
CAROLYN: ... Oh, what the hell. Let’s get her back.
AUCTIONEER: I have a name, you know.
CAROLYN: It doesn’t interest me. Fetch me Bruce.
AUCTIONEER: Bruce took off ten minutes ago.
CAROLYN: ‘Took off’? How could he take off?
AUCTIONEER: If you remember, madam, you sold him an aeroplane!
CAROLYN: But I need to speak to him, now!
(Sound of a phone dialling)
DOUGLAS: Oh, hello. Is that Bruce? ... Yes, I just happen to know your new plane’s sat comm number. My name’s Douglas Richardson, and I have an offer to make you.
Go to Part 2
Additional transcriber's note: The download jumped a lot and my laptop has decided not to play the BBC's iPlayer, so I've only been able to check this against the recording off the telly, so any suggested amendments are welcome.