You Rang, M'Lord? (1988) s01e01 Episode Script
The Phantom Sign Writer
1 From Mayfair to Park Lane You will hear this same refrain In every house again, again You rang, m'lord? Stepping out on the town The social whirl goes round and round The rich are up, the poor are down You rang, m'lord? The Bunny Hug at the Shim Sham club The Charleston at The Ritz #And at the Troc do the Turkey Trot They give Aunt Maude a thousand fits Saucy flappers in cloche hats Natty chappies in white spats The upper set is going bats You rang, m'lord? Wish me luck.
Oh, I do look pale.
Oh, yes.
That's better.
Good morning, Your Lordship.
Good morning, Ivy.
How are you? Well, Your Lordship, I was a bit pale when I first got up, but I'm much better now.
(Grunts) -Dad.
-Yes.
Wake up, Dad.
It's 5:55.
What's the matter with you? I don't get up till 7:30.
Mrs Lipton said I was to be down by 6:00.
Ivy, you're the maid, you have to be down by 6:00.
I'm the butler.
I don't start till 7:45.
Now, go away.
Dad, I don't know what I've got to do.
They might find out I've never been a maid.
Oh, come down with me.
In the first place, stop calling me ''Dad'', and stop worrying.
Mrs Lipton the cook will show you your duties.
It's quite normal on your first day.
Now, off you go.
Dad.
Someone tried my bedroom door last night.
-What do you mean? -The handle turned.
It's your imagination, Ivy.
It's not my imagination.
That handle was going up and down like a pump.
It'll be Henry having a joke.
Trying to scare you.
Now, come on.
Give us a kiss.
Now, away downstairs with you, or you'll be late.
Henry! Henry! Good morning, Mrs Lipton.
What have you been doing? The shoes should be clean by now.
The boiler went out.
I had to light it again.
-Your hands are filthy.
-Well, coke's dirty, isn't it? I am perfectly aware of what coke is like.
Don't be cheeky or I'll box your ears.
Ow! You just did.
-Wash your hands.
-Yes, Mrs Lipton.
-Not there.
In the scullery.
-Yes, Mrs Lipton.
I don't know where you were when they handed out brains.
I expect I was lighting the boiler.
-Morning, Mrs Lipton.
-Morning, James.
Is there a cup of your most excellent tea in the offing? The kettle's just on the boil, James.
-Where's that girl Ivy? -She's not down yet.
Well, she's late.
It's 6:03.
Well, it is her first morning, James.
You mustn't be too hard on her.
Start as you mean to go on I always say.
Yes, Mr Twelvetrees, you always say that.
How many times have I told you not to wipe your hands on the teacloth? Ow! Sorry, Mrs Lipton.
I I heard a certain amount of creaking in the servants' corridor last night.
Mr Stokes didn't try to inconvenience you, I hope.
Oh, no.
Certainly not.
What gave you that idea? I hope it wasn't the Honourable Teddy on the prowl.
What, after Ivy? Oh, surely a gentleman like him wouldn't interfere with her, not on her first night.
Oh, well.
Least said, soonest mended.
Good morning, Ivy.
Good morning, Mrs Lipton.
Good morning, Mr Twelvetrees.
-You're four minutes late, Ivy.
-Am I? I'm ever so sorry.
Well, seeing it is your first day, we'll say no more about it, but don't let it happen again.
What do you want me to do, Mrs Lipton? Well, first of all, you can get the trays ready for the early morning tea.
They're over there.
Oh, how many do we want? There's Lord Meldrum, the Honourable Teddy, Lady Lavender, Miss Cissy and Miss Poppy.
What about I beg your pardon? Mrs Lipton was just referring to His Lordship's guest, Lady Agatha.
She stayed the night.
Oh, yes.
Poor thing.
She was took poorly, wasn't she? That's correct, Ivy.
She looked well enough when she was having her dinner.
Well, I expect it come on sudden.
-Did they send for the doctor? -I expect His Lordship give her what she needed.
Hold your tongue, Henry! You finished those shoes, yet? -Very nearly.
-Well, hurry up.
Ivy, come here.
-What is it, Mr Twelvetrees? -What have you left off the tray? Teapot, milk, sugar bowl, cup and saucer, teaspoon.
Nothing.
The cloth, girl.
A lace cloth.
Who did you say was your last employer? They never had morning tea.
They were bohemians.
They never got up till 1 :30.
Goodness me! How could people like that afford servants? Well, I blame the war, Mrs Lipton.
The wrong people have the money.
-Here's your tea, James.
Do you want a cup, Ivy? -Oh, yes, please.
-I won't mind one, either.
-Not until you finish those shoes.
-Here you are, Ivy.
-Thank you.
-How did you sleep? -Oh, ever so well, once I dropped off.
I was a bit frightened at first.
Somebody was twisting my door handle.
Possibly that was me, Ivy, on my way to the servants' bathroom.
I slipped on a hole in the canvas and perhaps I steadied myself on your door handle.
Oh, I see.
The The tray cloths are in the sideboard in the servants' hall, Ivy.
I'll go and get them.
What did you want to go and make all that up for, James? Well, we must protect the Honourable Teddy.
He won't be like he is today if it wasn't for the war.
Oh, you young men.
Oh, you had to make terrible sacrifices.
We did our duty, Mrs Lipton.
-Morning, Henry.
-Hello, Mabel.
-I'm late.
What sort of mood are they in? -Rotten, as usual.
-Morning, all.
-Morning, Mabel.
-Sorry I'm a bit late.
-A bit late? It's 1 5 minutes, Mabel.
It was the bus, Mr Twelvetrees.
It was 1 0 minutes late.
They never been the same since the general strike.
You should've left earlier.
I'm sorry, Mabel.
I shall have to deduct it from your wages.
Quarter of an hour.
That's threepence today.
Altogether, that's ninepence this week.
Oh, do you have to, Mr Twelvetrees? Ninepence is a lot of money to me.
With my old man flat on his back, not able to do a hand's turn.
I'm sorry, Mabel, but rules are rules.
If I come a quarter of an hour early tomorrow, I bet they don't give me threepence extra.
Aren't you being a bit hard on her, James? Well, you can't let women of her class take liberties.
Probably waste it on beer anyway.
-Rinse your cup in the scullery, Ivy.
-Yes, Mrs Lipton.
I better be setting the table for breakfast.
Henry, did you rattle my door last night to frighten me? No, of course I didn't.
I expect it was the Honourable Teddy up to his tricks again.
What do you mean? He's always creeping up the stairs, trying to have his way with the maids.
-Trying to have his way? -Often as not, he succeeds.
Well, he's not having his way with me.
That's what they all say, but they all give in in the end.
Well, he can rattle my knob till the cows come home, but I'm not letting him in.
Mabel, I've just been putting fresh towels in His Lordship's bathroom.
The brass taps are very dull.
His Lordship should be able to see his reflection distinctly when he gets in the bath.
Do them again.
Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.
And it's nearly 8:00.
That floor must be dry when the family come down to breakfast at 9:00, so you better get a move on.
Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.
If you'd started on time, you wouldn't have had this problem.
No, Mr Twelvetrees.
Good morning, Blanche.
Oh, Alf, I was beginning to get worried about you.
It's time for the trays to go up.
-Did you oversleep? -It's all your fault for keeping me up so late.
Give over, Alf.
It's you and your bottle of port that did it.
-Give us a kiss.
-Oh, someone might come in.
Oh, you behave yourself, Alf.
Ah, I see you finally came down.
What time I get down is no concern of yours, James Twelvetrees.
I'm in charge of this household.
And how I carry out my duties is between me and His Lordship.
Your tray is ready, James.
There's yours, Mr Stokes.
Ivy, take this up to Lady Agatha in the guest room, then come back for Lady Lavender's.
Then there's Miss Cissy's and Miss Poppy's.
Why do I have to take four and they only take one? Well, you can't have men going into the ladies' bedrooms, girl.
Might be all right at your last place with them bohemians, but it won't do here.
Anyone would think from the way you talk you've never been in service before.
Right, let's get on with it, Ivy.
You go first.
(Whispering) Sorry, Dad.
Alf and James don't seem to like each other very much, do they, considering they was in the army together.
It's Mr Stokes and Mr Twelvetrees to you, Henry.
If they didn't like each other, why did they bother to save each other's lives? Because Oh, don't be impertinent! George! George! -What is it? -It's 8:00.
Good heavens! I set the clock for 5:00.
I must have dropped off.
(Knocking on door) Good morning, Lady Agatha.
Here's your morning tea.
-Shall I pour? -No, thank you, Ivy.
-Shall I puff up your pillows? -No thank you, Ivy.
(George grunting) I always used to puff up the pillows for my mum when she was feeling queer.
-Are you feeling better? -I beg your pardon? -You were took poorly last night.
-Oh, no.
I'm much better now.
Don't draw the curtains.
I'm sorry, I thought it would give you a bit more light.
Shall I put the lamp on? No, I still have a bit of a headache.
-I'll bring you an aspirin.
I've got one upstairs.
-No! Oh, well, I'll leave you in peace, then.
-Do you think she saw? -I don't think so.
No, it's pretty dark, and she is a bit simple.
Damn! Stokes will be bringing my tea.
Where are my pyjamas? Oh, your dressing gown's over there.
Your top's over there.
And your trousers are here.
I see.
I got rather excited.
Good morning, m'lord.
Stokes, I've just been down to the front door.
I'm expecting an urgent letter.
-I see, sir.
Did it arrive? -No.
Possibly it will come by the next post.
Should I pour your tea, sir? No, I'll take care of it.
-That will be all, Stokes.
-M'lord.
How was Lady Lavender? She told me to get rid of this and not tell anybody.
Yes, she has to have that for medicine, poor soul.
I think she had a lot of medicine last night.
-Mrs Lipton.
-Hmm? When I took Lady Agatha up her tea, there was this long lump in the bed beside her.
Does she sleep with a bolster? I I don't know, Ivy.
It's not for us to question the sleeping habits of the gentry.
There's the tray for Miss Cissy.
Oh, Miss Cissy was ever so nice to me last night.
She winked at me.
Did she? Well, just put the tray down and come out quickly.
Miss Poppy will want hers.
Yes, Mrs Lipton.
-Here, Dad.
-Ivy! Sorry.
Mr Stokes.
Something's been bothering me.
I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet and as I was going down the passage, I noticed your door was ajar.
-Well, I pushed it open, but you weren't there.
-I was probably in the bathroom.
Oh, I see.
I was in the bathroom.
-You're getting confused.
You know how you do.
-Yes, I do, don't I? -Whose tray is that? -Miss Cissy's.
Well, go in, put it down quickly and come straight out.
Why does everybody tell me to come straight out? Just do as you're told, Ivy, and you'll get along fine.
-Good morning, James.
-Good morning, Your Lordship.
The bacon smells good.
I'll send Ivy up with some extra toast very shortly, sir.
Good.
Oh, the Bishop's secretary telephoned to say that His Lordship will be a little late.
Oh, that's all right.
I'm not going to the City this morning.
Thank you.
-Morning, George.
-Morning, Teddy.
Agatha left early.
Yes, I called a cab for her.
She doesn't like breakfast.
If you ask me, none of our food agrees with her.
Every time she comes to dinner, she gets taken ill and has to stay the night.
-Yes, well, it's none of your business, Teddy.
-Oh, come on, George.
I know what's going on.
The servants know what's going on.
It's only a matter of time before Sir Ralph finds out.
And he's got a very nasty temper.
-Well, at least my taste in women is normal.
-What do you mean by that? I don't go chasing around after servant girls.
It always comes back to that, doesn't it? Just because I've made the odd mistake.
Five.
I've tried to fight it, George.
I do try.
You don't understand.
Pull yourself together.
It's only 9:05.
-Good morning, George.
-Morning, Lavender.
-Good morning, Teddy.
-Morning.
Did you sleep well? Well, quite well, but I've got a bit of a head this morning.
I think my new medicine doesn't quite suit me.
-Who makes it? Gordon's or Booth's? -Teddy! -How was dinner last night? -Agatha was taken ill as usual.
Agatha? Oh, she married Sir Ralph, didn't she? I knew his first wife.
Poor girl, she became involved with a young captain in the horse artillery.
-It was quite a scandal.
-What happened? Well, they were both at the theatre in a box watching Chu Chin Chow when Sir Ralph burst in and thrashed him in the middle of The Cobbler's Song.
-Morning, Daddy.
-Morning, Poppy.
Morning -Morning, Grandmother.
-Morning, darling.
Morning, family.
-Where did you get to last night? -Jerry took me to Ciro's.
-You made a terrible din when you got back.
-Sorry.
-Did I wake you, Daddy? -No, I don't think so.
We had We had huge fun.
We all went to a coffee stall on Chelsea Bridge and this policeman came along and told us not to make so much noise.
Jerry knocked his helmet off and we all finished up in Savile Row.
Police station? Really, Poppy.
It's all right, Daddy.
Jerry gave a fiver to the Police Benevolent Fund and they let us off.
You must be careful, Poppy.
Your father doesn't want any scandal.
-Do you, George? -Of course not.
Good morning, Daddy.
Sorry, I'm late.
I've been up since the crack of dawn.
They've got a new Arab.
He was a bit fresh, but I gave him a touch of the whip and he settled down beautifully.
Oh, I'm sorry, Ivy.
I should've let the kitchen know.
-You probably took my tea up and I wasn't there.
-Oh, that's all right.
I don't mind.
I know you don't.
-Ivy, more coffee, please.
-Yes, Your Lordship.
Did your friend Penelope go with you? No, she doesn't care for that sort of thing.
She hasn't got the strength in her legs.
-Good morning, all.
-Good morning.
Any chance of a cup of your most excellent tea, Mrs Lipton? Sit yourself down, Constable Wilson.
I'm just about to make a fresh pot.
How's the world of crime? Oh, pretty quiet, apart from an altercation with an errand boy.
He was misbehaving up against the churchyard gates.
You run him in? No, gave him a warning and a clip round the earhole.
Saves a lot of paperwork.
Here! You'll never guess what Miss Poppy got up to last night.
They knocked a policeman's hat off and they all got took to Savile Row.
Goodness me! Whatever happened? They got off.
That Mr Jerry gave the sergeant five pound for the Police Fund.
They do very well out of helmets at Savile Row.
On boat race night, them toffs, they knock them off like skittles.
Keeps the boys in beer for six months.
-Miss Cissy back yet? -Oh, yes.
She come in with shiny boots and a bowler hat and said she'd been whipping an Arab.
I think I'll get dressed and then I shall go and sit in the conservatory.
Not that anyone's interested.
Poppy, I don't wish to come the heavy father but I'm not at all happy about the sort of life you're leading and the set you're going around with.
Daddy, it's 1 92 7.
Girls don't sit around all day doing petit point and reading Jane Austen.
Women have been men's chattels since the world began.
We're just not putting up with it any longer.
I'm not expecting you to be chattels.
There's such a thing as the proper way to behave.
And the proper way to dress, Cissy.
All this going around in trousers and wearing your hair like a chap.
I don't like it at all.
I think girls should wear long dresses and pinafores and have shiny scrubbed faces.
Yes, well, we won't go into all that.
If you had your way, you'd bring back bathing machines and cover up the legs on tables in case the boys went wild with lust.
It's not that at all.
Things are going too fast.
It's time you put the brakes on and got back to decent values like chastity, modesty and integrity.
Excuse me, Your Lordship.
Lady Agatha is on the telephone.
Oh? I'm coming right away.
What were you saying about chastity, modesty and integrity? Shut up, Teddy.
-Hello? -George, it's happened.
-What has? -He came back early this morning.
Oh, that.
George, I wasn't here.
I think he suspects.
Why should he do that? You came to dinner, you were taken ill and you stayed the night.
It's all perfectly logical.
It's the third time it's happened, George.
Ralph says either we're up to something or you should sack your cook.
He stormed out of the house in a terrible rage.
-He's not coming round here, is he? -I don't know.
He just left.
He didn't strike you, did he? Good heavens, no.
He's a gentleman.
He only hits men.
Oh, good.
Well, don't upset yourself.
There's absolutely no proof about what you were talking about.
And admit nothing.
George, I feel terrible.
When am I going to see you again? Quite soon.
-Tonight? -No, no, no.
Not when you're suggesting.
-You will be thinking of me, won't you? -Definitely.
Tell me you love me.
-I do.
-You do what? I do what you just said.
Goodbye.
Is anything wrong, sir? You look a trifle pale.
Come into the drawing room, Stokes.
Now, Stokes, if anybody should call to see me this morning, I'm not at home.
I see, sir.
Shall I advise the Lord Bishop's secretary? No, no, no.
The Bishop's all right.
I shall see him.
It's anybody else.
I see, sir.
Very good.
Has Lady Agatha recovered from her indisposition? Oh, she's quite all right.
Ah! When is Sir Ralph returning? Well, that is the whole point, Stokes.
Sir Ralph came back early this morning, and it's just possible that he jumped to the wrong conclusion.
What conclusion would that be, m'lord? Well, he might think that Lady Agatha and I were intimate.
-Why should that occur to him, sir? -Well, I can't hide the facts from you, Stokes.
A man of your intelligence must realise I did not spend the night in my own room.
I understand, sir.
I spent a most uncomfortable night sitting up with Lady Agatha in case she got worse.
I never for a second assumed anything else, sir.
I saw it as my responsibility as a host and as a friend.
And you know the sort of man I am.
-I do, indeed, sir.
-Sir Ralph doesn't.
So I think it'd be just as well if he didn't find out I spent the night with his wife.
Would I be right in saying we need to establish that you spent the night elsewhere, sir? Yes.
Yes, you would.
Perhaps I could say I spent the night with you.
With respect, sir, why should you spend the night with me? Perhaps you're right.
Forget it.
Possibly the Honourable Edward could vouch for the fact that you spent the night with him.
-And why should I do that? -I'm sure you can think of a reason, m'lord.
-Yes, good.
Ask him to come in, would you? -M'lord.
-Is Daddy still on the phone to Agatha? -I expect they've got a lot to talk about.
After all, he hasn't seen her since she went up to her room last night.
Ha, ha, ha.
Excuse me, His Lordship would like a word with the Honourable Edward in the drawing room.
-Won't it wait? -I am given to understand it is a little urgent, sir.
Oh, hang.
Do you think Daddy and Agatha are up to something? No, people Daddy's age don't get up to things.
-Now, look here, Tiddles.
-Ah! You want something, don't you? You're always after something when you call me Tiddles.
I absolutely hate that name.
Makes me sound like a cat.
Yes, well, I do need a favour.
You always used to call me Tiddles when we were boys and you wanted to play with my Meccano.
''Tiddles,'' you'd say, ''can I borrow your Meccano, Tiddles?'' Oh, shut up about Tiddles.
You lost all the nuts and bolts.
Now, look, Teddy, if anyone asks, I want you to say you and I spent last night together.
You and I spent last night together? Doing what? Well, you could say you couldn't be left on your own 'cause you'd had one of your funny turns.
-I do not have funny turns.
-Yes, you do.
You get these sudden urges to go creeping up the back stairs and knocking on housemaids' doors.
I always know when it's going to happen.
You go -I don't go -Yes, you do.
You're doing it now.
Look, George, I know why you want an alibi.
It's Agatha, isn't it? Well, don't try to involve me into your sordid poodle-faking! It's not poodle-faking.
I love her.
Then why don't you ask Sir Ralph to let her go? What, and cite me as co-respondent? Think of the scandal.
I'd have to resign from the club, there'd be no Ascot.
Couldn't go anywhere or do anything.
You could still go to the House of Lords.
Yeah, but that doesn't count.
Life would just be a social desert.
(Bell ringing) That's the front doorbell.
It'll be Sir Ralph.
Stand by me, Teddy.
-Stokes, I'm not in.
-Yes, sir.
Get back from that window.
You mustn't be seen.
Oh! The chickens are coming home to roost with a vengeance now! Keep your voice down.
What happened to that pompous old George who sat behind that desk telling me to pull myself together just because I look at the odd servant girl? You've got a mean streak, Teddy.
Always did have.
I should have known that when you wouldn't lend me your Meccano.
(Knocking on door) The Lord Bishop, m'lord.
-Charles, nice to see you.
-Morning, George.
Morning, Tiddles.
Good morning.
-Would you like some coffee? -Oh, that would be most delightful.
Coffee, please, Stokes.
And I do not wish to be disturbed whoever it is.
-I didn't realise I was so important.
-Of course you are.
By the way, George, as I was coming in, I saw a man lurking in your bushes.
-Oh, did you? -Oh, let's see.
Get away from that window! I'll get Stokes to deal with it.
-Stokes.
-Yes, sir? -The Bishop saw somebody lurking.
-Lurking, sir? In the bushes.
Deal with it.
-M'lord.
-And Stokes.
-Yes, m'lord? -I am not at home.
Very good.
Where's that girl Ivy? She wanted to send a letter to her mum so I said she could go to the pillar box.
Well, let's hope she doesn't dawdle.
Talking of dawdling, it's time I was back on my feet.
James, coffee for three in the drawing room.
-Are you taking it up? -No, you are.
-Would it be all right if I pop in this evening? -Oh, you're always welcome, Constable Wilson.
What's on the menu upstairs? Asparagus soup, sole bonne femme and lamb cutlets.
Will they be breaded? -If that's the way you like them.
-Oh, good.
Well, I'll see you this evening, then.
Will there be anymore of that Chateau Lafite? Not tonight.
We go by the Haut-Brion.
Oh, that's quite nice, too, isn't it? -That man's a sponger.
-Pays to keep on the right side of the law, James.
Oh, you're the one to talk about the law.
If His Lordship knew how you helped yourself to his food and wine, he'd get shot of the lot of you.
That's not right, James.
Suppose some extra hungry guests arrived unexpected, imagine my position if there wasn't enough food.
We only consume the excess to stop it going to waste.
Here! Somebody's written something on the side of His Lordship's car.
What does it say? It's a great long word.
I don't know what it means.
-I better look.
-They've done it in white paint.
White paint? On His Lordship's lovely car? -What a disgrace.
-You get on with the potatoes, Mabel.
Yes, Mrs Lipton.
Forny-ca-tor.
-What does it mean? -Italian, isn't it? No, Henry, it is not Italian.
Who could do such a thing to a beautiful car like that? -We better get it off quick before it dries.
-And before His Lordship sees it.
And before the girls see it.
Why can't the girls see it? I'm a girl and I've seen it.
Is it rude? No, it's too long to be rude.
Rude words are short.
Henry, run along to the ironmongers and get a pint of turps.
Yes, Mr Stokes.
I'll search the grounds.
If I see anyone suspicious, I'll collar them.
No, don't do that.
He might be dangerous.
-Shall I get the police? -No, don't get the police.
-Why not? -Just do as you're told, Jim Twelvetrees.
I'm in charge here.
Get in the kitchen and take up His Lordship's coffee.
I see.
My, my! You're ever so masterful when the occasion calls for it, aren't you, Mr Stokes? -That's my dad all over.
-Ivy.
Oh, your dad's like that, too, is he, Ivy? Would he be in service as well? He is now.
-What was written on the car, Mr Twelvetrees? -Well, if you must know, fornicator.
Oh, my God! Who'd do that? It's going on all around us, Mabel.
Fancy.
Dad, why didn't you want to call the police? Because, Ivy, that word was probably written by Lady Agatha's husband.
But why would he write forny-ca-tor? Is he advertising something? In a matter of speaking, yes.
He's advertising the fact that Lord Meldrum and Lady Agatha, from time to time, commit intimacy.
Oh, no! And him being a Lord.
So forny-ca-tor means he was the long lump in her bed! Yes, Ivy.
And I thought it was a bolster.
I was going to puff him up and put him behind her back to make her sit up.
It would have done that all right, Ivy.
Now, not a word to a soul.
This could lead to our advantage.
-Dad, you're not going to blackmail him, are you? -No, Ivy.
The situation is this.
Lord Meldrum is going to need all sorts of alibis and services if he's going to continue his carrying on with Lady Agatha.
I shall be Cupid's messenger and be the perfect gentleman and make it worth my while.
Right.
I'm going to tell His Lordship about that word on his car.
Yes, forny-ca-tor.
Yes, Ivy.
-Will he know what it means? -Yes, Ivy.
There we are.
Oh, 1 0 guineas.
Most bountiful of you.
The distressed gentlewomen will be quite overwhelmed.
What about you, Teddy? Haven't you anything for the distressed gentlewomen? I also have a fund for a new orphanage that we're founding.
It's quite near here.
Oh, that'll be handy.
I'm sure Teddy will give something for that.
I'll open the door for you.
Are you going to tell His Lordship about the car? It might not be necessary.
Henry's just gone to work with the turps.
GEORGE: Ah, coffee.
I hope you'll forgive me if I drink it rather quickly.
I'm due at Lambeth Palace in half an hour.
I have a meeting with the Archbishop of York and the Archbishop of Canterbury.
You must meet the girls before you go.
-Ask them to come in, would you please, Stokes? -M'lord.
Begging your pardon, sir.
Will His Lordship be saying a short prayer as usual? Oh, yes, yes, of course.
-Shall I gather the staff in the dining room? -Yes, please do.
Thank you.
I'll take care of this.
''Will His Lordship be saying a short prayer as usual?'' You don't half suck up to them toffs, Jim Twelvetrees.
I know which side my bread is buttered and I know you.
You'll blot your copy book one of these days and I'll be ready to take over.
The jump from the footman to butler is like Becher's Brook.
You try it and you'll fall right on your pompous backside.
Ivy, take those potatoes into the scullery.
Put them in a pan with some water.
Yes, Mrs Lipton.
It won't come off.
It's dried.
Turps is no good when it's dry.
Well, you better tell Mr Stokes.
The Lord Bishop is going to say prayers in the dining room.
You're all wanted upstairs.
Oh, I shall enjoy that.
He's such a holy man.
Are your hands clean, Ivy? Yes, Mrs Lipton.
Let's have a look, then.
Other side.
Good girl.
Off you go.
Where's yours, Henry? Over.
Just about good enough.
-It's like being back at school, isn't it? -I don't know.
I never went.
-Morning, Bishop.
-Hello, Poppy.
-Cissy.
-Morning, Charles.
Poppy, what a pretty dress.
And, Cissy, what a prettypair of trousers.
The girls wear their skirts terribly short these days, I'm afraid.
Of course, when I was a young man, I didn't see a lady's legs at all, so this sort of thing came as a bit of a shock.
But I've got over it now.
In fact, I quite like it.
Excuse me, m'lord, the staff are all assembled in the dining room ready for the devotions.
-Thank you, James.
Shall we go in? -I can't wait.
George, could you get your man to order a taxi to take me to Lambeth Palace? Don't bother about that.
, I'll give you a lift.
I'd quite like to get out of the house.
-Ivy, ask Henry if he got it off.
-Did you get it off? -No, I didn't.
-No, he didn't.
-Why not? -Why not? -It dried hard.
-He tried hard.
Blimey! Shh! First of all, a few moments of silent prayer.
Let us pray.
What's the matter, Dad? His nibs is going to give the Bishop a lift to Lambeth Palace.
He'll see the forny-ca-tor! So will the Archbishop of York and the Archbishop of Canterbury.
Will they mind? Shh! (Knocking on door) I'm coming.
-What do you want? -It's Wednesday, I've come for the grocery order.
-They're all upstairs praying.
-What for? From what I heard of this lot, forgiveness.
That boring old Bishop is at it again.
Listen to them.
(Singing hymns) Load of hypocrites.
If they think I'm going to leave them my money, they're very much mistaken.
I'll leave it to the cats' home.
(Squawking) No, you don't like cats, do you? I'll leave it to you.
I'll send for my solicitor in the morning.
Silly old bat! Silly old bat! You just talked yourself out of a fortune.
Forever and ever.
Amen.
Oh, dear.
Look at the time.
I must rush.
-Stokes, coats.
-M'lord.
I'm afraid I got rather carried away.
I quite often do when I'm praying with people I like.
Dad, forny-ca-tor! -Do something.
-Eh? Mr Twelvetrees! Mr Twelvetrees! -May I have a word, m'lord? -Not now, the Bishop's late.
Excuse me, m'lord, there's not enough petrol in the car.
Oh, thank you.
I'll get some more on the way.
And the windscreen wipers are not functioning.
Well, that's all right.
It's not raining.
Come on.
Get a cloth each, and where's the Vim? You're wasting your time.
I'm telling you, it's like a blow lamp.
You can't use a blow lamp on His Lordship's beautiful car.
You'll melt it.
You're a fool, Henry.
-Can I take your order? -Yes.
Go away.
You better pop outside, Stokes.
Make sure nobody's about.
Yes, m'lord.
-What are you afraid of, George? Bolsheviks? -No, private detectives.
-Oh, shut up, Teddy.
Off we go.
-Goodbye.
-Cheerio, Bishop.
-Goodbye, Charles.
It's no good.
-Why don't you try holystone? -Don't be ridiculous.
-Watch out or he'll hit you.
-They're coming! Come on, cover it up.
Stand in front of it.
Get rid of the buckets.
His father was the chaplain but as I understand it, it was really quite a coincidence.
Oh, the servants have come to say goodbye to me.
How charming.
And what's your name? Mabel.
How charming.
Goodbye.
Henry Livingstone.
Any relation to the explorer? -Who? -No, I suppose not.
Goodbye.
-James Twelvetrees, Your Lordship.
-What's going on, Stokes? -I think it's Sir Ralph.
-What? Where? He's written something on the side of your car.
Can I get to the car now please? Yes, Your Bishop.
Good heavens! We couldn't get it off, sir.
What a lovely motor you have, George.
I've never driven in one of these.
Yes, well, you have to get out.
-Really? Why? -We've got a flat tyre.
Oh, dear.
What an unfortunate occurrence.
Can you not pump it up? -It's a puncture, m'lord.
-Yes, it's a puncture.
Oh, very well.
The Archbishops will be most cross.
Shall I telephone for a taxi for His Lordship? There's a bus goes from the top of the road.
What an excellent idea! I haven't been in a bus since they gave up using horses.
The number 76 stops right outside Lambeth Palace, Your Lordship.
Henry, run to the top of the road.
Stop the number 76 bus.
Tell them to wait for the Bishop.
Goodbye, Your Bishop.
Goodbye.
We haven't got time for all that again.
You'll miss the bus.
They're very irregular since the general strike.
I had to wait 1 0 minutes.
-Mabel.
-If I'd have said that, he'd have hit me.
-Goodbye.
-Goodbye.
It'll have to go back to the manufacturers, that's for sure.
-What will they think? -What do you think they'll think? Mr Stokes.
I must have a word with His Lordship.
-Oh, yeah? Why? -There's been a development.
One of our new young constables apprehended a person who was daubing paint on His Lordship's motor.
-Oh, they've got him! -He attempted to take him into custody, but during the struggle, the aforementioned personage punched the constable on the nose, drawing blood.
The constable overpowered him, took him to the station where he was charged with assaulting a police constable and damaging property.
He might be charged with writing an obscene word.
The desk sergeant's looking it up.
Who was it? He gave the name of Sir Ralph Shawcross.
Sir Ralph? Why would he do a thing like that? Because his wife's been fornycatoring with His Lordship.
Ivy! -Wash your mouth out with soap! Common soap! -Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.
I thought His Lordship ought to be informed.
If the newspapers get hold of it, he could be in Queer Street.
Without a paddle.
-I'll tell His Lordship at once.
-Oh, no, you won't.
I'll tell His Lordship.
I'm the butler, you're the footman and don't forget it.
Yes, but you've only just come here.
I've been with His Lordship for nine years.
And you could be with him for nine more years.
As long as I'm the butler, you'll keep your place.
-Is that enough soap, Mr Twelvetrees? -No, put some more in.
That Mr Stokes, he's a bit of a tartar when he gets balked, isn't he? So is Mr Twelvetrees.
Oh, throw it away, Ivy.
I'll say that you've drunk it.
Oh, thanks.
-What do you want? -I'm coming in with you.
Get back to the servants' hall.
How would it be if I told His Lordship about that shell hole where you and I found the Honourable Teddy and that you stole the stone out of his ring? -You were in it, too.
-Well, I'm in this, too.
Come on.
Come.
Would you like a nice cup of tea and a piece of cherry cake, Constable Wilson? No, thank you, Mrs Lipton.
I'm wanted back at the station.
You will tell Mr Stokes to come round at once, won't you? -Yes, Constable.
We'll see you later, I hope.
-Of course.
I wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall when His Lordship hears about Sir Ralph.
Me, neither.
Ivy, slip upstairs and have a listen outside the door.
-Will it be all right? -Quite all right, as long as you don't get caught.
-Take your duster with you.
-Yes, Mrs Lipton.
Well, it's a bit of a facer.
No mistake.
You sure 20 pounds would be enough to square it? Make it 25, sir.
Just to be on the safe side.
If there is any surplus, naturally I will return it to you.
Of course you will.
Here we are.
And thank you both.
-I know I can rely on your discretion.
-Of course, sir.
Were you listening at the keyhole, Ivy? Yes, but I missed the first bit.
What happened? Mind your own business.
Alf Stokes, what are you up to? I'm going to sort it out with Constable Wilson.
-You can't bribe the police.
-Do you want to bet? Where's Wilson? He had to go back to the station.
He said you was to get there as soon as maybe.
James, get my coat and hat.
Get your own coat and hat.
Ivy, Henry, time you were both in bed.
Just going, Mr Twelvetrees.
Do you think Mr Stokes is all right? He's been gone since lunch and it's 1 0:30.
Don't you worry your head about him, Ivy.
If he fell in the dock, he'd come up with coal.
-Yes, I suppose you're right.
Well, good night, all.
-Good night, Ivy.
Good night.
-Good night, Henry.
-Good night, Henry.
I hope the Honourable Teddy doesn't try any of his tricks on with that girl.
She's very simple, you know.
She's not as simple as all that.
There's something not quite right about her.
I wonder if His Lordship checked her references.
Well, I think she's a lovely girl.
She's very willing.
You leave well alone, James.
Least said, soonest mended.
Oh, there you are, Mr Stokes.
We were getting anxious about you.
I wasn't.
The supper was all dried up so I've made you a steak and kidney pie.
Here it is.
Help yourself to vegetables.
They're in the warming oven.
I'm off to the Land of Nod.
You're a treasure, Mrs Lipton.
Well, we have to look after our own, don't we, Mr Stokes? I'll be up to say good night in half an hour.
(Mrs Lipton clearing throat) There's a half-bottle of that Haut-Brion on the sideboard, or there's beer in the cupboard.
Good night.
Good night.
Don't you think you've had enough? I'll be the judge of that.
You smell like a brewery.
Wonderful year.
You really fancy yourself aping your betters, don't you? They might be your betters, but they're not my betters.
Where have you been for the last 1 0 hours? There was a lot to sort out.
There was the young constable, three quid.
The desk sergeant who booked him, four quid.
And Constable Wilson, five quid.
Sir Ralph is now in his rightful place, in the arms of Lady Agatha.
And His Lordship can sleep easy in his bed.
Until the next time.
Oh, and here's two quid for you to keep your mouth shut.
-Don't be ridiculous.
-All right, three quid.
You can go on putting pound notes on the table all night, you won't buy me.
Suit yourself.
So that's 1 3 pounds you can give back to His Lordship.
Of course, James.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
I really have had a lovely day and I think I'm going to like it here.
Oh, we had a bit of excitement with the paint on the car.
Well, you saw all that so I won't bore you with the details.
That Jim Twelvetrees is ever so strict, isn't he? But I like him.
You know where you are with him and he's ever so good-looking, isn't he? Well, I think he is.
The toffs upstairs are a bit naughty, aren't they? They don't carry on the way I was taught.
But I suppose it takes all sorts to make a world, doesn't it? Well, you know that better than anyone.
Oh, dear.
That'll be the Honourable Teddy.
Do you think you could do something about him, please? TEDDY: Oh, drat.
(Footsteps receding) Oh, thanks ever so much.
Good night.
From Mayfair to Park Lane You will hear this same refrain In every house again, again You rang, m'lord? Stepping out on the town The social whirl goes round and round The rich are up, the poor are down You rang, m'lord? The Bunny Hug at the Shim Sham Club The Charleston at The Ritz #And at the Troc do the Turkey Trot They give Aunt Maude a thousand fits Talking flicks are here today And Lindbergh's from the USA Poor Valentino's passed away How sad, m'lord.
Oh, I do look pale.
Oh, yes.
That's better.
Good morning, Your Lordship.
Good morning, Ivy.
How are you? Well, Your Lordship, I was a bit pale when I first got up, but I'm much better now.
(Grunts) -Dad.
-Yes.
Wake up, Dad.
It's 5:55.
What's the matter with you? I don't get up till 7:30.
Mrs Lipton said I was to be down by 6:00.
Ivy, you're the maid, you have to be down by 6:00.
I'm the butler.
I don't start till 7:45.
Now, go away.
Dad, I don't know what I've got to do.
They might find out I've never been a maid.
Oh, come down with me.
In the first place, stop calling me ''Dad'', and stop worrying.
Mrs Lipton the cook will show you your duties.
It's quite normal on your first day.
Now, off you go.
Dad.
Someone tried my bedroom door last night.
-What do you mean? -The handle turned.
It's your imagination, Ivy.
It's not my imagination.
That handle was going up and down like a pump.
It'll be Henry having a joke.
Trying to scare you.
Now, come on.
Give us a kiss.
Now, away downstairs with you, or you'll be late.
Henry! Henry! Good morning, Mrs Lipton.
What have you been doing? The shoes should be clean by now.
The boiler went out.
I had to light it again.
-Your hands are filthy.
-Well, coke's dirty, isn't it? I am perfectly aware of what coke is like.
Don't be cheeky or I'll box your ears.
Ow! You just did.
-Wash your hands.
-Yes, Mrs Lipton.
-Not there.
In the scullery.
-Yes, Mrs Lipton.
I don't know where you were when they handed out brains.
I expect I was lighting the boiler.
-Morning, Mrs Lipton.
-Morning, James.
Is there a cup of your most excellent tea in the offing? The kettle's just on the boil, James.
-Where's that girl Ivy? -She's not down yet.
Well, she's late.
It's 6:03.
Well, it is her first morning, James.
You mustn't be too hard on her.
Start as you mean to go on I always say.
Yes, Mr Twelvetrees, you always say that.
How many times have I told you not to wipe your hands on the teacloth? Ow! Sorry, Mrs Lipton.
I I heard a certain amount of creaking in the servants' corridor last night.
Mr Stokes didn't try to inconvenience you, I hope.
Oh, no.
Certainly not.
What gave you that idea? I hope it wasn't the Honourable Teddy on the prowl.
What, after Ivy? Oh, surely a gentleman like him wouldn't interfere with her, not on her first night.
Oh, well.
Least said, soonest mended.
Good morning, Ivy.
Good morning, Mrs Lipton.
Good morning, Mr Twelvetrees.
-You're four minutes late, Ivy.
-Am I? I'm ever so sorry.
Well, seeing it is your first day, we'll say no more about it, but don't let it happen again.
What do you want me to do, Mrs Lipton? Well, first of all, you can get the trays ready for the early morning tea.
They're over there.
Oh, how many do we want? There's Lord Meldrum, the Honourable Teddy, Lady Lavender, Miss Cissy and Miss Poppy.
What about I beg your pardon? Mrs Lipton was just referring to His Lordship's guest, Lady Agatha.
She stayed the night.
Oh, yes.
Poor thing.
She was took poorly, wasn't she? That's correct, Ivy.
She looked well enough when she was having her dinner.
Well, I expect it come on sudden.
-Did they send for the doctor? -I expect His Lordship give her what she needed.
Hold your tongue, Henry! You finished those shoes, yet? -Very nearly.
-Well, hurry up.
Ivy, come here.
-What is it, Mr Twelvetrees? -What have you left off the tray? Teapot, milk, sugar bowl, cup and saucer, teaspoon.
Nothing.
The cloth, girl.
A lace cloth.
Who did you say was your last employer? They never had morning tea.
They were bohemians.
They never got up till 1 :30.
Goodness me! How could people like that afford servants? Well, I blame the war, Mrs Lipton.
The wrong people have the money.
-Here's your tea, James.
Do you want a cup, Ivy? -Oh, yes, please.
-I won't mind one, either.
-Not until you finish those shoes.
-Here you are, Ivy.
-Thank you.
-How did you sleep? -Oh, ever so well, once I dropped off.
I was a bit frightened at first.
Somebody was twisting my door handle.
Possibly that was me, Ivy, on my way to the servants' bathroom.
I slipped on a hole in the canvas and perhaps I steadied myself on your door handle.
Oh, I see.
The The tray cloths are in the sideboard in the servants' hall, Ivy.
I'll go and get them.
What did you want to go and make all that up for, James? Well, we must protect the Honourable Teddy.
He won't be like he is today if it wasn't for the war.
Oh, you young men.
Oh, you had to make terrible sacrifices.
We did our duty, Mrs Lipton.
-Morning, Henry.
-Hello, Mabel.
-I'm late.
What sort of mood are they in? -Rotten, as usual.
-Morning, all.
-Morning, Mabel.
-Sorry I'm a bit late.
-A bit late? It's 1 5 minutes, Mabel.
It was the bus, Mr Twelvetrees.
It was 1 0 minutes late.
They never been the same since the general strike.
You should've left earlier.
I'm sorry, Mabel.
I shall have to deduct it from your wages.
Quarter of an hour.
That's threepence today.
Altogether, that's ninepence this week.
Oh, do you have to, Mr Twelvetrees? Ninepence is a lot of money to me.
With my old man flat on his back, not able to do a hand's turn.
I'm sorry, Mabel, but rules are rules.
If I come a quarter of an hour early tomorrow, I bet they don't give me threepence extra.
Aren't you being a bit hard on her, James? Well, you can't let women of her class take liberties.
Probably waste it on beer anyway.
-Rinse your cup in the scullery, Ivy.
-Yes, Mrs Lipton.
I better be setting the table for breakfast.
Henry, did you rattle my door last night to frighten me? No, of course I didn't.
I expect it was the Honourable Teddy up to his tricks again.
What do you mean? He's always creeping up the stairs, trying to have his way with the maids.
-Trying to have his way? -Often as not, he succeeds.
Well, he's not having his way with me.
That's what they all say, but they all give in in the end.
Well, he can rattle my knob till the cows come home, but I'm not letting him in.
Mabel, I've just been putting fresh towels in His Lordship's bathroom.
The brass taps are very dull.
His Lordship should be able to see his reflection distinctly when he gets in the bath.
Do them again.
Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.
And it's nearly 8:00.
That floor must be dry when the family come down to breakfast at 9:00, so you better get a move on.
Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.
If you'd started on time, you wouldn't have had this problem.
No, Mr Twelvetrees.
Good morning, Blanche.
Oh, Alf, I was beginning to get worried about you.
It's time for the trays to go up.
-Did you oversleep? -It's all your fault for keeping me up so late.
Give over, Alf.
It's you and your bottle of port that did it.
-Give us a kiss.
-Oh, someone might come in.
Oh, you behave yourself, Alf.
Ah, I see you finally came down.
What time I get down is no concern of yours, James Twelvetrees.
I'm in charge of this household.
And how I carry out my duties is between me and His Lordship.
Your tray is ready, James.
There's yours, Mr Stokes.
Ivy, take this up to Lady Agatha in the guest room, then come back for Lady Lavender's.
Then there's Miss Cissy's and Miss Poppy's.
Why do I have to take four and they only take one? Well, you can't have men going into the ladies' bedrooms, girl.
Might be all right at your last place with them bohemians, but it won't do here.
Anyone would think from the way you talk you've never been in service before.
Right, let's get on with it, Ivy.
You go first.
(Whispering) Sorry, Dad.
Alf and James don't seem to like each other very much, do they, considering they was in the army together.
It's Mr Stokes and Mr Twelvetrees to you, Henry.
If they didn't like each other, why did they bother to save each other's lives? Because Oh, don't be impertinent! George! George! -What is it? -It's 8:00.
Good heavens! I set the clock for 5:00.
I must have dropped off.
(Knocking on door) Good morning, Lady Agatha.
Here's your morning tea.
-Shall I pour? -No, thank you, Ivy.
-Shall I puff up your pillows? -No thank you, Ivy.
(George grunting) I always used to puff up the pillows for my mum when she was feeling queer.
-Are you feeling better? -I beg your pardon? -You were took poorly last night.
-Oh, no.
I'm much better now.
Don't draw the curtains.
I'm sorry, I thought it would give you a bit more light.
Shall I put the lamp on? No, I still have a bit of a headache.
-I'll bring you an aspirin.
I've got one upstairs.
-No! Oh, well, I'll leave you in peace, then.
-Do you think she saw? -I don't think so.
No, it's pretty dark, and she is a bit simple.
Damn! Stokes will be bringing my tea.
Where are my pyjamas? Oh, your dressing gown's over there.
Your top's over there.
And your trousers are here.
I see.
I got rather excited.
Good morning, m'lord.
Stokes, I've just been down to the front door.
I'm expecting an urgent letter.
-I see, sir.
Did it arrive? -No.
Possibly it will come by the next post.
Should I pour your tea, sir? No, I'll take care of it.
-That will be all, Stokes.
-M'lord.
How was Lady Lavender? She told me to get rid of this and not tell anybody.
Yes, she has to have that for medicine, poor soul.
I think she had a lot of medicine last night.
-Mrs Lipton.
-Hmm? When I took Lady Agatha up her tea, there was this long lump in the bed beside her.
Does she sleep with a bolster? I I don't know, Ivy.
It's not for us to question the sleeping habits of the gentry.
There's the tray for Miss Cissy.
Oh, Miss Cissy was ever so nice to me last night.
She winked at me.
Did she? Well, just put the tray down and come out quickly.
Miss Poppy will want hers.
Yes, Mrs Lipton.
-Here, Dad.
-Ivy! Sorry.
Mr Stokes.
Something's been bothering me.
I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the toilet and as I was going down the passage, I noticed your door was ajar.
-Well, I pushed it open, but you weren't there.
-I was probably in the bathroom.
Oh, I see.
I was in the bathroom.
-You're getting confused.
You know how you do.
-Yes, I do, don't I? -Whose tray is that? -Miss Cissy's.
Well, go in, put it down quickly and come straight out.
Why does everybody tell me to come straight out? Just do as you're told, Ivy, and you'll get along fine.
-Good morning, James.
-Good morning, Your Lordship.
The bacon smells good.
I'll send Ivy up with some extra toast very shortly, sir.
Good.
Oh, the Bishop's secretary telephoned to say that His Lordship will be a little late.
Oh, that's all right.
I'm not going to the City this morning.
Thank you.
-Morning, George.
-Morning, Teddy.
Agatha left early.
Yes, I called a cab for her.
She doesn't like breakfast.
If you ask me, none of our food agrees with her.
Every time she comes to dinner, she gets taken ill and has to stay the night.
-Yes, well, it's none of your business, Teddy.
-Oh, come on, George.
I know what's going on.
The servants know what's going on.
It's only a matter of time before Sir Ralph finds out.
And he's got a very nasty temper.
-Well, at least my taste in women is normal.
-What do you mean by that? I don't go chasing around after servant girls.
It always comes back to that, doesn't it? Just because I've made the odd mistake.
Five.
I've tried to fight it, George.
I do try.
You don't understand.
Pull yourself together.
It's only 9:05.
-Good morning, George.
-Morning, Lavender.
-Good morning, Teddy.
-Morning.
Did you sleep well? Well, quite well, but I've got a bit of a head this morning.
I think my new medicine doesn't quite suit me.
-Who makes it? Gordon's or Booth's? -Teddy! -How was dinner last night? -Agatha was taken ill as usual.
Agatha? Oh, she married Sir Ralph, didn't she? I knew his first wife.
Poor girl, she became involved with a young captain in the horse artillery.
-It was quite a scandal.
-What happened? Well, they were both at the theatre in a box watching Chu Chin Chow when Sir Ralph burst in and thrashed him in the middle of The Cobbler's Song.
-Morning, Daddy.
-Morning, Poppy.
Morning -Morning, Grandmother.
-Morning, darling.
Morning, family.
-Where did you get to last night? -Jerry took me to Ciro's.
-You made a terrible din when you got back.
-Sorry.
-Did I wake you, Daddy? -No, I don't think so.
We had We had huge fun.
We all went to a coffee stall on Chelsea Bridge and this policeman came along and told us not to make so much noise.
Jerry knocked his helmet off and we all finished up in Savile Row.
Police station? Really, Poppy.
It's all right, Daddy.
Jerry gave a fiver to the Police Benevolent Fund and they let us off.
You must be careful, Poppy.
Your father doesn't want any scandal.
-Do you, George? -Of course not.
Good morning, Daddy.
Sorry, I'm late.
I've been up since the crack of dawn.
They've got a new Arab.
He was a bit fresh, but I gave him a touch of the whip and he settled down beautifully.
Oh, I'm sorry, Ivy.
I should've let the kitchen know.
-You probably took my tea up and I wasn't there.
-Oh, that's all right.
I don't mind.
I know you don't.
-Ivy, more coffee, please.
-Yes, Your Lordship.
Did your friend Penelope go with you? No, she doesn't care for that sort of thing.
She hasn't got the strength in her legs.
-Good morning, all.
-Good morning.
Any chance of a cup of your most excellent tea, Mrs Lipton? Sit yourself down, Constable Wilson.
I'm just about to make a fresh pot.
How's the world of crime? Oh, pretty quiet, apart from an altercation with an errand boy.
He was misbehaving up against the churchyard gates.
You run him in? No, gave him a warning and a clip round the earhole.
Saves a lot of paperwork.
Here! You'll never guess what Miss Poppy got up to last night.
They knocked a policeman's hat off and they all got took to Savile Row.
Goodness me! Whatever happened? They got off.
That Mr Jerry gave the sergeant five pound for the Police Fund.
They do very well out of helmets at Savile Row.
On boat race night, them toffs, they knock them off like skittles.
Keeps the boys in beer for six months.
-Miss Cissy back yet? -Oh, yes.
She come in with shiny boots and a bowler hat and said she'd been whipping an Arab.
I think I'll get dressed and then I shall go and sit in the conservatory.
Not that anyone's interested.
Poppy, I don't wish to come the heavy father but I'm not at all happy about the sort of life you're leading and the set you're going around with.
Daddy, it's 1 92 7.
Girls don't sit around all day doing petit point and reading Jane Austen.
Women have been men's chattels since the world began.
We're just not putting up with it any longer.
I'm not expecting you to be chattels.
There's such a thing as the proper way to behave.
And the proper way to dress, Cissy.
All this going around in trousers and wearing your hair like a chap.
I don't like it at all.
I think girls should wear long dresses and pinafores and have shiny scrubbed faces.
Yes, well, we won't go into all that.
If you had your way, you'd bring back bathing machines and cover up the legs on tables in case the boys went wild with lust.
It's not that at all.
Things are going too fast.
It's time you put the brakes on and got back to decent values like chastity, modesty and integrity.
Excuse me, Your Lordship.
Lady Agatha is on the telephone.
Oh? I'm coming right away.
What were you saying about chastity, modesty and integrity? Shut up, Teddy.
-Hello? -George, it's happened.
-What has? -He came back early this morning.
Oh, that.
George, I wasn't here.
I think he suspects.
Why should he do that? You came to dinner, you were taken ill and you stayed the night.
It's all perfectly logical.
It's the third time it's happened, George.
Ralph says either we're up to something or you should sack your cook.
He stormed out of the house in a terrible rage.
-He's not coming round here, is he? -I don't know.
He just left.
He didn't strike you, did he? Good heavens, no.
He's a gentleman.
He only hits men.
Oh, good.
Well, don't upset yourself.
There's absolutely no proof about what you were talking about.
And admit nothing.
George, I feel terrible.
When am I going to see you again? Quite soon.
-Tonight? -No, no, no.
Not when you're suggesting.
-You will be thinking of me, won't you? -Definitely.
Tell me you love me.
-I do.
-You do what? I do what you just said.
Goodbye.
Is anything wrong, sir? You look a trifle pale.
Come into the drawing room, Stokes.
Now, Stokes, if anybody should call to see me this morning, I'm not at home.
I see, sir.
Shall I advise the Lord Bishop's secretary? No, no, no.
The Bishop's all right.
I shall see him.
It's anybody else.
I see, sir.
Very good.
Has Lady Agatha recovered from her indisposition? Oh, she's quite all right.
Ah! When is Sir Ralph returning? Well, that is the whole point, Stokes.
Sir Ralph came back early this morning, and it's just possible that he jumped to the wrong conclusion.
What conclusion would that be, m'lord? Well, he might think that Lady Agatha and I were intimate.
-Why should that occur to him, sir? -Well, I can't hide the facts from you, Stokes.
A man of your intelligence must realise I did not spend the night in my own room.
I understand, sir.
I spent a most uncomfortable night sitting up with Lady Agatha in case she got worse.
I never for a second assumed anything else, sir.
I saw it as my responsibility as a host and as a friend.
And you know the sort of man I am.
-I do, indeed, sir.
-Sir Ralph doesn't.
So I think it'd be just as well if he didn't find out I spent the night with his wife.
Would I be right in saying we need to establish that you spent the night elsewhere, sir? Yes.
Yes, you would.
Perhaps I could say I spent the night with you.
With respect, sir, why should you spend the night with me? Perhaps you're right.
Forget it.
Possibly the Honourable Edward could vouch for the fact that you spent the night with him.
-And why should I do that? -I'm sure you can think of a reason, m'lord.
-Yes, good.
Ask him to come in, would you? -M'lord.
-Is Daddy still on the phone to Agatha? -I expect they've got a lot to talk about.
After all, he hasn't seen her since she went up to her room last night.
Ha, ha, ha.
Excuse me, His Lordship would like a word with the Honourable Edward in the drawing room.
-Won't it wait? -I am given to understand it is a little urgent, sir.
Oh, hang.
Do you think Daddy and Agatha are up to something? No, people Daddy's age don't get up to things.
-Now, look here, Tiddles.
-Ah! You want something, don't you? You're always after something when you call me Tiddles.
I absolutely hate that name.
Makes me sound like a cat.
Yes, well, I do need a favour.
You always used to call me Tiddles when we were boys and you wanted to play with my Meccano.
''Tiddles,'' you'd say, ''can I borrow your Meccano, Tiddles?'' Oh, shut up about Tiddles.
You lost all the nuts and bolts.
Now, look, Teddy, if anyone asks, I want you to say you and I spent last night together.
You and I spent last night together? Doing what? Well, you could say you couldn't be left on your own 'cause you'd had one of your funny turns.
-I do not have funny turns.
-Yes, you do.
You get these sudden urges to go creeping up the back stairs and knocking on housemaids' doors.
I always know when it's going to happen.
You go -I don't go -Yes, you do.
You're doing it now.
Look, George, I know why you want an alibi.
It's Agatha, isn't it? Well, don't try to involve me into your sordid poodle-faking! It's not poodle-faking.
I love her.
Then why don't you ask Sir Ralph to let her go? What, and cite me as co-respondent? Think of the scandal.
I'd have to resign from the club, there'd be no Ascot.
Couldn't go anywhere or do anything.
You could still go to the House of Lords.
Yeah, but that doesn't count.
Life would just be a social desert.
(Bell ringing) That's the front doorbell.
It'll be Sir Ralph.
Stand by me, Teddy.
-Stokes, I'm not in.
-Yes, sir.
Get back from that window.
You mustn't be seen.
Oh! The chickens are coming home to roost with a vengeance now! Keep your voice down.
What happened to that pompous old George who sat behind that desk telling me to pull myself together just because I look at the odd servant girl? You've got a mean streak, Teddy.
Always did have.
I should have known that when you wouldn't lend me your Meccano.
(Knocking on door) The Lord Bishop, m'lord.
-Charles, nice to see you.
-Morning, George.
Morning, Tiddles.
Good morning.
-Would you like some coffee? -Oh, that would be most delightful.
Coffee, please, Stokes.
And I do not wish to be disturbed whoever it is.
-I didn't realise I was so important.
-Of course you are.
By the way, George, as I was coming in, I saw a man lurking in your bushes.
-Oh, did you? -Oh, let's see.
Get away from that window! I'll get Stokes to deal with it.
-Stokes.
-Yes, sir? -The Bishop saw somebody lurking.
-Lurking, sir? In the bushes.
Deal with it.
-M'lord.
-And Stokes.
-Yes, m'lord? -I am not at home.
Very good.
Where's that girl Ivy? She wanted to send a letter to her mum so I said she could go to the pillar box.
Well, let's hope she doesn't dawdle.
Talking of dawdling, it's time I was back on my feet.
James, coffee for three in the drawing room.
-Are you taking it up? -No, you are.
-Would it be all right if I pop in this evening? -Oh, you're always welcome, Constable Wilson.
What's on the menu upstairs? Asparagus soup, sole bonne femme and lamb cutlets.
Will they be breaded? -If that's the way you like them.
-Oh, good.
Well, I'll see you this evening, then.
Will there be anymore of that Chateau Lafite? Not tonight.
We go by the Haut-Brion.
Oh, that's quite nice, too, isn't it? -That man's a sponger.
-Pays to keep on the right side of the law, James.
Oh, you're the one to talk about the law.
If His Lordship knew how you helped yourself to his food and wine, he'd get shot of the lot of you.
That's not right, James.
Suppose some extra hungry guests arrived unexpected, imagine my position if there wasn't enough food.
We only consume the excess to stop it going to waste.
Here! Somebody's written something on the side of His Lordship's car.
What does it say? It's a great long word.
I don't know what it means.
-I better look.
-They've done it in white paint.
White paint? On His Lordship's lovely car? -What a disgrace.
-You get on with the potatoes, Mabel.
Yes, Mrs Lipton.
Forny-ca-tor.
-What does it mean? -Italian, isn't it? No, Henry, it is not Italian.
Who could do such a thing to a beautiful car like that? -We better get it off quick before it dries.
-And before His Lordship sees it.
And before the girls see it.
Why can't the girls see it? I'm a girl and I've seen it.
Is it rude? No, it's too long to be rude.
Rude words are short.
Henry, run along to the ironmongers and get a pint of turps.
Yes, Mr Stokes.
I'll search the grounds.
If I see anyone suspicious, I'll collar them.
No, don't do that.
He might be dangerous.
-Shall I get the police? -No, don't get the police.
-Why not? -Just do as you're told, Jim Twelvetrees.
I'm in charge here.
Get in the kitchen and take up His Lordship's coffee.
I see.
My, my! You're ever so masterful when the occasion calls for it, aren't you, Mr Stokes? -That's my dad all over.
-Ivy.
Oh, your dad's like that, too, is he, Ivy? Would he be in service as well? He is now.
-What was written on the car, Mr Twelvetrees? -Well, if you must know, fornicator.
Oh, my God! Who'd do that? It's going on all around us, Mabel.
Fancy.
Dad, why didn't you want to call the police? Because, Ivy, that word was probably written by Lady Agatha's husband.
But why would he write forny-ca-tor? Is he advertising something? In a matter of speaking, yes.
He's advertising the fact that Lord Meldrum and Lady Agatha, from time to time, commit intimacy.
Oh, no! And him being a Lord.
So forny-ca-tor means he was the long lump in her bed! Yes, Ivy.
And I thought it was a bolster.
I was going to puff him up and put him behind her back to make her sit up.
It would have done that all right, Ivy.
Now, not a word to a soul.
This could lead to our advantage.
-Dad, you're not going to blackmail him, are you? -No, Ivy.
The situation is this.
Lord Meldrum is going to need all sorts of alibis and services if he's going to continue his carrying on with Lady Agatha.
I shall be Cupid's messenger and be the perfect gentleman and make it worth my while.
Right.
I'm going to tell His Lordship about that word on his car.
Yes, forny-ca-tor.
Yes, Ivy.
-Will he know what it means? -Yes, Ivy.
There we are.
Oh, 1 0 guineas.
Most bountiful of you.
The distressed gentlewomen will be quite overwhelmed.
What about you, Teddy? Haven't you anything for the distressed gentlewomen? I also have a fund for a new orphanage that we're founding.
It's quite near here.
Oh, that'll be handy.
I'm sure Teddy will give something for that.
I'll open the door for you.
Are you going to tell His Lordship about the car? It might not be necessary.
Henry's just gone to work with the turps.
GEORGE: Ah, coffee.
I hope you'll forgive me if I drink it rather quickly.
I'm due at Lambeth Palace in half an hour.
I have a meeting with the Archbishop of York and the Archbishop of Canterbury.
You must meet the girls before you go.
-Ask them to come in, would you please, Stokes? -M'lord.
Begging your pardon, sir.
Will His Lordship be saying a short prayer as usual? Oh, yes, yes, of course.
-Shall I gather the staff in the dining room? -Yes, please do.
Thank you.
I'll take care of this.
''Will His Lordship be saying a short prayer as usual?'' You don't half suck up to them toffs, Jim Twelvetrees.
I know which side my bread is buttered and I know you.
You'll blot your copy book one of these days and I'll be ready to take over.
The jump from the footman to butler is like Becher's Brook.
You try it and you'll fall right on your pompous backside.
Ivy, take those potatoes into the scullery.
Put them in a pan with some water.
Yes, Mrs Lipton.
It won't come off.
It's dried.
Turps is no good when it's dry.
Well, you better tell Mr Stokes.
The Lord Bishop is going to say prayers in the dining room.
You're all wanted upstairs.
Oh, I shall enjoy that.
He's such a holy man.
Are your hands clean, Ivy? Yes, Mrs Lipton.
Let's have a look, then.
Other side.
Good girl.
Off you go.
Where's yours, Henry? Over.
Just about good enough.
-It's like being back at school, isn't it? -I don't know.
I never went.
-Morning, Bishop.
-Hello, Poppy.
-Cissy.
-Morning, Charles.
Poppy, what a pretty dress.
And, Cissy, what a prettypair of trousers.
The girls wear their skirts terribly short these days, I'm afraid.
Of course, when I was a young man, I didn't see a lady's legs at all, so this sort of thing came as a bit of a shock.
But I've got over it now.
In fact, I quite like it.
Excuse me, m'lord, the staff are all assembled in the dining room ready for the devotions.
-Thank you, James.
Shall we go in? -I can't wait.
George, could you get your man to order a taxi to take me to Lambeth Palace? Don't bother about that.
, I'll give you a lift.
I'd quite like to get out of the house.
-Ivy, ask Henry if he got it off.
-Did you get it off? -No, I didn't.
-No, he didn't.
-Why not? -Why not? -It dried hard.
-He tried hard.
Blimey! Shh! First of all, a few moments of silent prayer.
Let us pray.
What's the matter, Dad? His nibs is going to give the Bishop a lift to Lambeth Palace.
He'll see the forny-ca-tor! So will the Archbishop of York and the Archbishop of Canterbury.
Will they mind? Shh! (Knocking on door) I'm coming.
-What do you want? -It's Wednesday, I've come for the grocery order.
-They're all upstairs praying.
-What for? From what I heard of this lot, forgiveness.
That boring old Bishop is at it again.
Listen to them.
(Singing hymns) Load of hypocrites.
If they think I'm going to leave them my money, they're very much mistaken.
I'll leave it to the cats' home.
(Squawking) No, you don't like cats, do you? I'll leave it to you.
I'll send for my solicitor in the morning.
Silly old bat! Silly old bat! You just talked yourself out of a fortune.
Forever and ever.
Amen.
Oh, dear.
Look at the time.
I must rush.
-Stokes, coats.
-M'lord.
I'm afraid I got rather carried away.
I quite often do when I'm praying with people I like.
Dad, forny-ca-tor! -Do something.
-Eh? Mr Twelvetrees! Mr Twelvetrees! -May I have a word, m'lord? -Not now, the Bishop's late.
Excuse me, m'lord, there's not enough petrol in the car.
Oh, thank you.
I'll get some more on the way.
And the windscreen wipers are not functioning.
Well, that's all right.
It's not raining.
Come on.
Get a cloth each, and where's the Vim? You're wasting your time.
I'm telling you, it's like a blow lamp.
You can't use a blow lamp on His Lordship's beautiful car.
You'll melt it.
You're a fool, Henry.
-Can I take your order? -Yes.
Go away.
You better pop outside, Stokes.
Make sure nobody's about.
Yes, m'lord.
-What are you afraid of, George? Bolsheviks? -No, private detectives.
-Oh, shut up, Teddy.
Off we go.
-Goodbye.
-Cheerio, Bishop.
-Goodbye, Charles.
It's no good.
-Why don't you try holystone? -Don't be ridiculous.
-Watch out or he'll hit you.
-They're coming! Come on, cover it up.
Stand in front of it.
Get rid of the buckets.
His father was the chaplain but as I understand it, it was really quite a coincidence.
Oh, the servants have come to say goodbye to me.
How charming.
And what's your name? Mabel.
How charming.
Goodbye.
Henry Livingstone.
Any relation to the explorer? -Who? -No, I suppose not.
Goodbye.
-James Twelvetrees, Your Lordship.
-What's going on, Stokes? -I think it's Sir Ralph.
-What? Where? He's written something on the side of your car.
Can I get to the car now please? Yes, Your Bishop.
Good heavens! We couldn't get it off, sir.
What a lovely motor you have, George.
I've never driven in one of these.
Yes, well, you have to get out.
-Really? Why? -We've got a flat tyre.
Oh, dear.
What an unfortunate occurrence.
Can you not pump it up? -It's a puncture, m'lord.
-Yes, it's a puncture.
Oh, very well.
The Archbishops will be most cross.
Shall I telephone for a taxi for His Lordship? There's a bus goes from the top of the road.
What an excellent idea! I haven't been in a bus since they gave up using horses.
The number 76 stops right outside Lambeth Palace, Your Lordship.
Henry, run to the top of the road.
Stop the number 76 bus.
Tell them to wait for the Bishop.
Goodbye, Your Bishop.
Goodbye.
We haven't got time for all that again.
You'll miss the bus.
They're very irregular since the general strike.
I had to wait 1 0 minutes.
-Mabel.
-If I'd have said that, he'd have hit me.
-Goodbye.
-Goodbye.
It'll have to go back to the manufacturers, that's for sure.
-What will they think? -What do you think they'll think? Mr Stokes.
I must have a word with His Lordship.
-Oh, yeah? Why? -There's been a development.
One of our new young constables apprehended a person who was daubing paint on His Lordship's motor.
-Oh, they've got him! -He attempted to take him into custody, but during the struggle, the aforementioned personage punched the constable on the nose, drawing blood.
The constable overpowered him, took him to the station where he was charged with assaulting a police constable and damaging property.
He might be charged with writing an obscene word.
The desk sergeant's looking it up.
Who was it? He gave the name of Sir Ralph Shawcross.
Sir Ralph? Why would he do a thing like that? Because his wife's been fornycatoring with His Lordship.
Ivy! -Wash your mouth out with soap! Common soap! -Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.
I thought His Lordship ought to be informed.
If the newspapers get hold of it, he could be in Queer Street.
Without a paddle.
-I'll tell His Lordship at once.
-Oh, no, you won't.
I'll tell His Lordship.
I'm the butler, you're the footman and don't forget it.
Yes, but you've only just come here.
I've been with His Lordship for nine years.
And you could be with him for nine more years.
As long as I'm the butler, you'll keep your place.
-Is that enough soap, Mr Twelvetrees? -No, put some more in.
That Mr Stokes, he's a bit of a tartar when he gets balked, isn't he? So is Mr Twelvetrees.
Oh, throw it away, Ivy.
I'll say that you've drunk it.
Oh, thanks.
-What do you want? -I'm coming in with you.
Get back to the servants' hall.
How would it be if I told His Lordship about that shell hole where you and I found the Honourable Teddy and that you stole the stone out of his ring? -You were in it, too.
-Well, I'm in this, too.
Come on.
Come.
Would you like a nice cup of tea and a piece of cherry cake, Constable Wilson? No, thank you, Mrs Lipton.
I'm wanted back at the station.
You will tell Mr Stokes to come round at once, won't you? -Yes, Constable.
We'll see you later, I hope.
-Of course.
I wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall when His Lordship hears about Sir Ralph.
Me, neither.
Ivy, slip upstairs and have a listen outside the door.
-Will it be all right? -Quite all right, as long as you don't get caught.
-Take your duster with you.
-Yes, Mrs Lipton.
Well, it's a bit of a facer.
No mistake.
You sure 20 pounds would be enough to square it? Make it 25, sir.
Just to be on the safe side.
If there is any surplus, naturally I will return it to you.
Of course you will.
Here we are.
And thank you both.
-I know I can rely on your discretion.
-Of course, sir.
Were you listening at the keyhole, Ivy? Yes, but I missed the first bit.
What happened? Mind your own business.
Alf Stokes, what are you up to? I'm going to sort it out with Constable Wilson.
-You can't bribe the police.
-Do you want to bet? Where's Wilson? He had to go back to the station.
He said you was to get there as soon as maybe.
James, get my coat and hat.
Get your own coat and hat.
Ivy, Henry, time you were both in bed.
Just going, Mr Twelvetrees.
Do you think Mr Stokes is all right? He's been gone since lunch and it's 1 0:30.
Don't you worry your head about him, Ivy.
If he fell in the dock, he'd come up with coal.
-Yes, I suppose you're right.
Well, good night, all.
-Good night, Ivy.
Good night.
-Good night, Henry.
-Good night, Henry.
I hope the Honourable Teddy doesn't try any of his tricks on with that girl.
She's very simple, you know.
She's not as simple as all that.
There's something not quite right about her.
I wonder if His Lordship checked her references.
Well, I think she's a lovely girl.
She's very willing.
You leave well alone, James.
Least said, soonest mended.
Oh, there you are, Mr Stokes.
We were getting anxious about you.
I wasn't.
The supper was all dried up so I've made you a steak and kidney pie.
Here it is.
Help yourself to vegetables.
They're in the warming oven.
I'm off to the Land of Nod.
You're a treasure, Mrs Lipton.
Well, we have to look after our own, don't we, Mr Stokes? I'll be up to say good night in half an hour.
(Mrs Lipton clearing throat) There's a half-bottle of that Haut-Brion on the sideboard, or there's beer in the cupboard.
Good night.
Good night.
Don't you think you've had enough? I'll be the judge of that.
You smell like a brewery.
Wonderful year.
You really fancy yourself aping your betters, don't you? They might be your betters, but they're not my betters.
Where have you been for the last 1 0 hours? There was a lot to sort out.
There was the young constable, three quid.
The desk sergeant who booked him, four quid.
And Constable Wilson, five quid.
Sir Ralph is now in his rightful place, in the arms of Lady Agatha.
And His Lordship can sleep easy in his bed.
Until the next time.
Oh, and here's two quid for you to keep your mouth shut.
-Don't be ridiculous.
-All right, three quid.
You can go on putting pound notes on the table all night, you won't buy me.
Suit yourself.
So that's 1 3 pounds you can give back to His Lordship.
Of course, James.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
I really have had a lovely day and I think I'm going to like it here.
Oh, we had a bit of excitement with the paint on the car.
Well, you saw all that so I won't bore you with the details.
That Jim Twelvetrees is ever so strict, isn't he? But I like him.
You know where you are with him and he's ever so good-looking, isn't he? Well, I think he is.
The toffs upstairs are a bit naughty, aren't they? They don't carry on the way I was taught.
But I suppose it takes all sorts to make a world, doesn't it? Well, you know that better than anyone.
Oh, dear.
That'll be the Honourable Teddy.
Do you think you could do something about him, please? TEDDY: Oh, drat.
(Footsteps receding) Oh, thanks ever so much.
Good night.
From Mayfair to Park Lane You will hear this same refrain In every house again, again You rang, m'lord? Stepping out on the town The social whirl goes round and round The rich are up, the poor are down You rang, m'lord? The Bunny Hug at the Shim Sham Club The Charleston at The Ritz #And at the Troc do the Turkey Trot They give Aunt Maude a thousand fits Talking flicks are here today And Lindbergh's from the USA Poor Valentino's passed away How sad, m'lord.