Late Night Story (1978) s01e03 Episode Script

(CREEPY MUSIC PLAYING) ''It won't be the same without them,'' said Olivia, sealing a Christmas card in its envelope.
Her brother Hugh rose from his chair and took a tin of tobacco from the mantelpiece.
''Mother loved Christmas,'' he said.
''And father,'' added Olivia.
She adjusted a lock of greying mud-brown hair that had slipped from the bun high on her head.
At 44, she was what is known as a fine-looking woman.
Not pretty, but she had good bones, like a well-bred horse.
''Will it be just the two of us,'' Hugh asked, puffing at his pipe, ''for Christmas dinner?'' ''Did you want to ask someone else?'' Olivia raised an eyebrow.
''No,'' said Hugh.
Olivia finished writing her Christmas cards and went to draw the curtains.
Outside, the yew trees at the end of the garden merged darkly into the winter sky.
Beyond it was the church and the little churchyard where her mother and father lay beneath pots of yellow chrysanthemums.
Olivia suddenly had a picture of them all, young and vital, having tea on the lawn under the yew.
Pa in his panama hat, Hugh in short, cotton trousers buttoned onto his shirt, Mother in a low-waisted dress, setting out cups on a wrought-iron table, and Nanny, come to take them in at bedtime.
Always Nanny.
''At least we don't have to have Nanny,'' she said.
''Don't we?'' said Hugh, putting down his paper.
''But she always comes for tea on Boxing Day ''for, gosh, 30 years, I suppose.
'' ''Which is 30 years too many,'' said Olivia.
But then, Nanny was an institution.
Every year at about this time, their mother, slipping a cheque into Nanny's Christmas card, used to say, ''Dear, old Nanny.
She was so good to you children.
'' But she wasn't.
That was the ridiculousness of the whole business.
She wasn't.
Hugh would sometimes remember the reality, and the memory hurt with a pain that almost made him tremble.
Far from being a treasure, their Nanny had been specious and crawling, keeping her smiles and sympathy for the grown-ups and turning her dark side to the nursery.
''Did I ever tell you,'' said Hugh, ''that when I was five, ''she made me stand on one leg for half an hour ''because I'd wet my bed?'' ''She said I was so ugly, I'd never get a man.
''She said I had a face like a gargoyle.
I believed her,'' said Olivia.
''She was a swine,'' said Hugh fervently.
''And she still won't let up, will she?'' Olivia went on.
''Even now she says 'Sit still!' as if I were a dog, ''and tells me to mind my P's and Q's.
I think she gets worse every year.
'' Hugh nodded.
''And every year she says, '''I know someone not a million miles from here '''who was sick all over his teddy.
' ''Mother used to think it was hilarious, but it wasn't funny, ever.
''I was sick because she forced me to eat all her leftover cabbage stalks.
'' Olivia moved away from the window.
''Hugh,'' she said.
''Yes?'' As she passed behind his chair, she gently touched the top of his head.
''I think we should have Nanny to tea,'' she said.
''After all, it's what Mother would have wanted.
'' ''But you said'' began Hugh.
But Olivia just smiled and stroked his hair.
On Boxing Day, Nanny arrived promptly at her usual time.
Olivia, girlish in pale blue chiffon, opened the door.
''How well you're looking, Nanny, dear!'' ''Unlike some,'' retorted Nanny.
She peered at Hugh.
''Peaky, if you ask me.
'' ''Perhaps I haven't been eating my greens, Nanny,'' said Hugh.
Nanny shot him a look of stone.
''Yes, well,'' said Olivia, ''Happy Christmas, Nanny.
'' She kissed the leathery cheek.
In the hall, Hugh took Nanny's coat, then Olivia moved towards the staircase.
''Not in the drawing room?'' queried Nanny.
''Your mother always served tea in the drawing room.
'' '''Up the wooden hill,''' quoted Hugh with his little smirk.
They helped Nanny climb the two flights, then waited while she stood panting, trying to get her breath.
They came to the room that had once been their day nursery.
A fire burned in the grate, and, in its gentle light, the toys spread round the room looked less dilapidated than they actually were.
''Good gracious me!'' exclaimed Nanny.
''Yes,'' said Olivia.
''Nursery tea, just as it used to be.
'' Hugh was standing with his back to the fire, looking anxious.
''Come and sit down, Nanny,'' he suggested.
Nanny lowered herself into the armchair by the fire and smoothed her beige wool dress over her knees.
''You always were a polite boy, Hugh,'' she said.
''Nanny's little pumpkin pie, I used to call you.
'' Olivia behind her chair smothered a giggle.
Nanny pursed her lips.
''I know someone not a million miles from here ''who would have found herself a nice, young man ''if she'd learnt a little self-discipline.
'' ''Hah!'' Olivia exploded.
''That's rich! It used to be my face that put them off, ''now it's my personality, is it? ''From someone who was never even glanced at by anything in trousers, ''male or female, that's rich!'' Nanny struggled to her feet, red in the face.
''I will not have this naughtiness, Olivia,'' she snapped, her breath coming in gasps.
''If you're not careful, I'll be taking you to meet Mr Slipper-slapper.
'' Asked Olivia, ''Remember, Hugh? Remember Mr Slipper-slapper?'' She produced from the window seat a worn, old slipper.
''I found him in the box room.
''Such a dear, old friend, wasn't he, Hugh?'' She took a step towards Nanny, who fell back into her chair.
''Remember, Nanny?'' she said, smacking the slipper against the palm of her hand, softly at first, then harder.
''Hmm?'' Nanny's jaw dropped open, but she remained silent.
''I say, Olivia,'' began Hugh, looking worried.
''Oh, it's all right,'' Olivia said.
''Nanny and I are just having a little joke.
It's only a game.
'' ''A very silly one if you ask me,'' said Nanny.
Olivia wagged a finger.
''Now, don't be such a crosspatch, Nanny.
'' Nanny, fixing them both with an eagle gaze, sat down.
Olivia poured out a glass of milk and placed it in front of her.
''Drink up, now, Nanny,'' she said with a smile.
''What's this?'' asked Nanny.
''Milk, of course.
Now, drink it up.
'' ''Are you not going to make any tea?'' ''Tea isn't good for you,'' said Hugh, enjoying the joke.
Nanny sighed.
''I think you're both being very silly, but since this is all there is'' She raised the glass and sipped at the milk.
Hugh and Olivia watched her.
''Biscuit, Nanny?'' asked Hugh, offering a plate.
Olivia pushed his hand away.
''Bread and butter first, Hugh,'' she said.
''You know we always have bread and butter first.
'' ''No, thank you,'' said Nanny.
Olivia tutted, ''Now, come along! ''There's many a poor child would be glad of it.
Pass your plate.
'' After the bread and butter came plain biscuits, then the pièce de résistance, a bowl of cold sago pudding.
''Oh, no, really!'' said Nanny.
''This is going too far!'' ''Eat it up, now,'' urged Olivia.
''Let me see a nice, clean plate.
'' ''I can't,'' said Nanny, for the first time a note of desperation in her voice.
''Can't?'' said Hugh, leaning across the table, looking at her.
''Can't? There's no such word as 'can't.
''' ''Her eyes were bigger than her stomach,'' crowed Olivia.
''A dose! A dose!'' chanted Hugh, growing pink with excitement.
''Have you got the milk of mags?'' ''Oh, damn.
No, I haven't,'' said Olivia.
''Wash your mouth out with soap,'' ordered Nanny automatically.
She tried to get up from the table but dropped her stick.
Olivia picked it up.
''Give it back,'' said Nanny, dropping back onto her chair.
''Give it back at once.
'' ''Say please,'' demanded Olivia.
''Please.
'' ''No,'' said Olivia.
''She can't move without it,'' said Hugh.
''Hugh,'' she said.
''I think Nanny needs a spell in the bad room, don't you?'' ''Now, Olivia,'' warned Nanny.
''This will all end in tears if you're not careful.
''You've had your joke and it was all very funny, wasn't it? ''Now, if Hugh would just not mind running me home.
'' Hugh giggled.
''There are monsters in the bad room, aren't there, Nanny? ''Bogey men and great big spiders and things with huge teeth, you said.
'' Off the nursery was a tiny box room with a high, sealed window.
It was empty except for a wooden stool and a broken ironing board.
''In here, Nanny,'' commanded Olivia.
''Perhaps in the bad room, you'll learn to behave yourself.
'' Nanny reached for her stick, but Olivia lifted it above her head.
''Help her, Hugh,'' she said.
''Sorry there's no light in there,'' said Olivia.
''I took the bulb out.
'' Nanny struggled briefly with Hugh, then allowed herself to be led, muttering furiously, into the box room.
''You won't get away with this,'' she warned.
Hugh turned to Olivia.
''Nanny's having a little tantrum,'' he said gleefully.
''Shut the door,'' Olivia said coldly.
''Lock it and give me the key.
'' Hugh did as he was told.
''It's only for a little while, isn't it?'' he whispered.
''Part of the game?'' Olivia nodded.
Listening at the box room door, she could hear nothing.
''What do you want to do now?'' she asked Hugh.
He gazed around the room, then gave a little, excited jump and hurried towards the old rocking horse.
''Bags I first!'' he shouted, and swung a leg over the saddle.
He rocked back and forth for a while, a dreamy expression on his face, while his sister arranged a row of skittles along the edge of the hearth rug.
They soon tired of their games and found it more entertaining to stand outside the box room, baiting Nanny.
'''Cinderella's gone to town with her knickers hanging down,''' sang Olivia.
''Bum,'' said Hugh.
'''Every little master, every little miss, ''they're behind the greenhouse having a lovely Yoo-hoo, Nanny!'' ''Titties,'' said Hugh.
Olivia listened again.
There was still no sound.
''Do you think we ought to let her out?'' asked Hugh.
Olivia shrugged.
''Let's just look at her.
'' She moved around the room, searching for the key.
''Where the hell did I put it?'' It was Hugh who found it on the mantelpiece and who, in his excitement, knocked it off so that it bounced against his chest and fell into the fire.
''Really, Hugh! You're such a butterfingers,'' she said.
''Oh, well.
We'll have to break the door down, I suppose.
'' Hugh was leaning over the fireguard.
-''Perhaps I can fish it out.
'' -''No, no!'' Olivia pushed him away.
''Let me.
'' She began to unhook the fireguard.
''Ooh,'' said Hugh, hand to mouth.
He glanced towards the box room.
''You're not allowed!'' ''Telltale tit!'' Olivia sneered.
''What's the matter? Afraid of what Nanny will say?'' Hugh cringed.
Olivia had by now removed the fireguard and was bending low over the fire with a pair of short-handled tongs.
As she turned to berate Hugh still further, her wrist touched the scorching hot hood above the grate.
''Ow!'' she cried, jumping back.
If she tidied away the skittles as she would have had to have done in Nanny's day, she might have suffered nothing more than a burned wrist.
But she'd left them lying untidily on the hearth rug so that when she jumped back, she landed on them, lost her balance and toppled right into the fire.
Hugh, his face a mask of helplessness, watched, trembling, as her dress flared up.
She shrieked and put out a hand for him to pull her out, but he could only stand there, gaping.
By the time she had dragged herself clear, she was a stumbling, screeching torch.
Her screams were so pitiful that Hugh had to put his hands over his ears.
Then she stopped screaming and stood still for a moment, eyes wide with horror, before collapsing in a bubbling, writhing mass on the floor.
Hugh, retreating terror-stricken from the flames, heard beneath her moans heavy thumping on the box room door.
Then there were no more moans and after a while, no more thumps, just crackling as the fire edged towards him over the faded Peter Pan carpet.
Hugh squatted on his haunches, watching it.
He put his thumb in his mouth and sucked hard.
He didn't like the smoke.
It was making him cough.
When he could feel the heat of the flames on his skin, he screwed up his face and sobbed.
''Nanny! Nanny!'' But, though he called and called, Nanny never came.