White Gold (2017) s02e05 Episode Script
Series 2, Episode 5
1 240, 245 and 250.
It's all there.
Good boy.
Now here's your ticket.
A Mr Setra will meet you at the hotel, go straight there, deliver the cash, get out.
No fucking about, you got it? Not even time for a quick dip in the sea? You fuck this up, I'll arrange a much longer dip for you.
Jesus, I was only making a joke.
Well, in that case, so was I.
Have a good trip.
Hello? I've got a business trip booked to Malta with you and I wanted to see if I could book seats for the rest of my family.
My name's Vincent Swan, Dr Vincent Swan.
Great.
Also, I'm speaking at a medical conference and I could use a few hours on the flight to prepare.
Is there any chance of a business class upgrade? No, just the one seat would be fine.
If Ronnie's going to treat me like a mule, I'm going to make damn sure I get a kick out of it.
That's the craziest shit I've ever heard.
I know.
Can you believe that Machiavellian bitch Jo engineered the whole thing just to get one over on Vincent? No, not that.
The fact that Sam found you attractive.
Thanks very much.
Oh, come on, mate.
She's gorgeous and you you're like a completely different species.
Let me get this straight.
YOU were the one who wouldn't commit? - Can we change the subject? - I mean, you have looked at yourself in the mirror before, right? How's the boy wonder working out? Oh, God.
He is even more of a pillock then I remembered.
Good, that's what I was hoping for.
How about I come over and work for you? Unfortunately, that ship has sailed.
No, Walsh has made it abundantly clear that I'm not allowed to take on any more staff.
Can't you just sack RJ? One in one out? Look, if you want to go and tell his nutcase of a dad that you got his fuckwit son fired, then be my guest.
Here you go, Brian.
What's that? - Orange juice and lemonade.
- I asked for a pint.
Sorry, got distracted.
Got chatting to the young damsel behind the bar.
Well, a real-life damsel in distress.
Quite the opposite, lavatory.
She gave me her number which means, by the end of the day, she'll very likely be a damsel out of a dress as opposed to in a dress - because she'll be naked.
- Yes, I think I get it, RJ.
This is bollocks.
How did a freak like you managed to pull her? If Stratego has taught me one thing, no advances were ever made without taking risks, my compadres.
You can't capture the enemy's flag without coming out of your trench.
You're right.
He's right.
You're a creepy genius.
It is that simple.
I've got to go.
- Thank you, RJ.
- Don't thank me, thank Stratego.
Wow.
I don't suppose there's any danger of you applying this go-get-'em attitude to selling our windows? - Wouldn't work.
- Why not? Cos, ultimately, I don't give a toss about selling windows, Brian.
Yeah, that's the spirit.
Ronnie's errand had at least put a few thousand miles between me and that marriage-wrecking time bomb, Jo.
When you're caught between a rock and a hard place, it takes the edge off when the rock is a sun-kissed Mediterranean island.
So that's room 211, double bed with the pull-out bed for children.
I'm not sleeping with Rob, you know he stinks of BO now.
- I don't want to catch your zits! - You horrible little shit.
Mum! Excuse me, sweetheart, do you have any adjoining rooms? No, but we have a junior suite available.
Rate is 200 Maltese lira per night.
Then what's that in real money? In English pounds sterling, that's £320.
Nice try.
You and I both know rate cards are only used to fleece the terminally stupid or the stupidly wealthy.
I'm sorry, I not really understand.
Is there anyone else who could check us in? I said, only very rich or very stupid, like that pair behind, pay that.
Now, what can you do for me on that sweet price? What did he say? I'm sorry, I can't do deals on the price.
All right, how about a complimentary upgrade? I'm a very generous tipper after a good night's sleep.
This is ridiculous.
Can you hurry up, please? I'm sorry, your Highness, but we haven't finished yet.
- Come on, what's your best price? - I'm so sorry.
You know what they say, if you have to ask for the price, you definitely can't afford it.
Is there any chance you could let someone else check in? It's OK.
Vincent, come on.
Let's just look at the room.
I'm sure it's lovely.
OK.
All yours.
Although I think you'll find there's a no dogs allowed policy at this hotel.
Vincent, go.
And you.
What did he say? All right, try not to drown.
I don't want to spend the whole holiday filling out forms.
You're so funny, Mum.
Last one in the pool gets the camp bed with the blood-stained sheets.
Isn't Nat a bit old for Bun-buns? She told me to bring him.
Apparently he's never been to Malta before.
Oh, that's sweet.
Thank you, Vincent.
I needed a break.
Nothing beats a few days of the four "S"s.
Sun, sea, sand and And sharing a room with our two children.
Might need to settle for the three "S"s.
There's always the beach at night.
No, thanks.
I'm not a bloody turtle.
Although I am still a big fan of doggy.
Oh, easy, Lassie.
One of us should watch the kids swim.
Why don't I finished unpacking and get it nice and cosy in here for us? That is disturbingly sensible for you.
I quite like this new being waited on hand and foot.
First you pack the case coming out here, now everything gets hanged up at this and.
It's like having a sexy butler.
Just call me Jeeves.
- See you in half an hour.
- OK.
That was close.
I probably could've hidden this roll somewhere else, but who doesn't enjoy the feel of a cool five grand in 50s laying against their nutsack.
Now, in case you were wondering where the rest of Ronnie's illicit cash is stuffed Oh, bad luck.
Sea view's this side.
Excuse me, I'm looking for a Mr Setra.
- Yeah, right there.
- Thanks.
Ronnie's dirty laundry, I believe.
I'm enjoying the symbolism, Mr Swan.
Please, call me Vincent.
Do I need a receipt? I'm afraid we operate a strictly sans paperwork facility, Vincent.
Tell Ronnie we'll scrub this until it's unrecognisable.
Now, there was one other matter I was hoping to discuss with you.
- When do you leave? - In a few days.
Perfect.
That's just enough time to discover what this intriguing little island has to offer and to join me for a spot of lunch on my yacht tomorrow.
I have to tell you, I'm here with my wife.
I'm not trying to seduce you, if you're worried.
Not really.
I get more offended when people don't want to sleep with me, Mr Setra.
It's just she might finally divorce me if I disappear for an afternoon.
She's more than welcome.
Do you know where the marina is? I'm going to guess, is it on the edge of the sea? Pier seven.
You can't miss us.
I'll see you tomorrow at one.
Now that Ronnie's contraband was safely delivered, the only bulge in my underpants was the one reserved for the woman of my dreams.
I must admit, this one of your better ideas, Vincent Swan.
I do have them sometimes.
Thank you.
And Nat was embracing every teenage girl's rite of passage by flirting with a greasy Maltese waiter.
I needed this.
So it is now a good time to re-pitch my sex on the beach idea? The cocktail, or the agonising sand-in-the-fanny sexual experience? One of each.
How about no? Fair enough.
How about I offer you lunch on a yacht instead? Oh, much better.
Now, if only you had a yacht.
Or knew a man who does.
I'm serious.
A friend of Ronnie's has invited us out to lunch on a yacht tomorrow.
Really? Wow, I've never been on a yacht before.
What about the kids? Hotel's got a kids' club.
They're capable of looking after themselves for a few hours.
Yeah, why not? What is it, Rob? Nat's been getting the waiter to sneak vodka - in her orange all night.
- Stop telling tales.
She threw up on her shoes.
Oh, sweetheart.
I'll kill that fucking waiter.
It's not his fault, Dad.
I told him I was 18.
He'll be in for a nice shock when he sees you at the Teenyboppers kids' club tomorrow.
- What? I ain't going to a kids' club.
- Yes, you are.
Why do you all have to be so embarrassing all the time? Says the girl who pebble-dashed the hotel bar floor.
Mum, tell them.
Oh, God.
SHE RETCHES That's it, baby.
There you go, get it all out.
At least you'll be the first kid at Teenyboppers - to turn up with a hangover.
- Shut up.
Look, I'm taking a few days off.
- Yeah, sure.
When were you thinking? - Well, from now.
Oh, no sorry.
I've got Vincent swanning off on some Ronnie-inspired errand.
I can't lose my only other salesman.
I wasn't calling for permission.
I'm just letting you know.
Thank you.
What a thoroughly decent arsehole you are.
You betrayed my trust, fucked up my career, and potentially a marriage, just to score some cheap point over Vincent, and I'M the arsehole? Christ, such a drama queen.
Are you even going to tell me what you're doing? I'm capturing the flag.
Right, Carol.
You've been promoted to field sales.
Show me you can outperform Lavender in the next two days and you can have his job.
Any questions? - You're not in Kansas any more.
- What are you doing? - Is not a dream, is it? - No.
Please don't make me reconsider.
And before you hang up your receptionist boots, find me the number to wherever that fucker Vincent's staying.
Oh, God, I think I'm going to puke.
I get nerves.
Breathe, Carol.
Nerves are perfectly natural.
You'll not tell another soul this, but I wet myself when I closed my first deal.
Did you, though, or are you just trying to make me feel better? Both.
Still carry spare knickers in the car.
Just remember, they requested more information.
You're here to gently nudge that interest towards a purchase, so make it memorable for them.
Be engaged, flatter them, make them laugh.
- Sounds more like a blind date.
- Actually, it's a lot like that.
How do you manage your nerves on a date? I just try and pretend to be someone else.
Good, that's just what selling is.
You're presenting a heightened version of yourself.
- OK.
I can do that.
- Good.
Right? DOORBELL I think I'm going to need to borrow those spare knickers later.
- Are you sure you don't want a tea? - No, water's fine.
SHE GULPS SHE EXHALES Carol, do you want to tell Dave and Annie a little bit more about who we are? My name's Caroline Ewing the Third.
I know what you're thinking, why is someone like me sitting in your beautiful front room, attempting to extol the virtues of replacement windows? I weren't expecting that.
Neither was I, Annie.
But at 18 I decided to turn my back on a life of luxury and comfort and go out into the big, wide world to make something of myself on my terms.
- Good for you, love.
- Yeah.
Meanwhile, Lavender's mission to capture the flag had entered a critical phase.
It was time to go over the top.
You've only got to be a Teenybopper for one afternoon, Nat.
But what if Kristof sees me? Well, he'll just think you're looking after your little brother, while your wonderful mother swans off - for a swanky meal on a luxury yacht.
- Don't take the piss.
I'm not.
I appreciate it.
Cool, we're going hunting.
Can we really be from the same gene pool? We're taking photos, you div.
Right, here's some money.
Don't let Robbie blow it all on the arcade machines, OK? Be back in a few hours.
Come here.
Oh, did you wash your hair? I just got a whiff of vodka orange puke.
- You didn't, did you? - Go on, got to go.
Bye.
Sam, I need to talk to you.
Jesus Christ, Martin.
What are you doing here? I needed to see you.
Shit.
Vincent will be down any minute.
It's OK, I can say whatever I've got to say in front of Vincent.
No! No.
Just calm down.
What are you talking about? - Why are you even here? - This can't wait.
Sam, I've wasted so much time already.
- You asked me once if I was ready to commit.
- What? Of course this can fucking wait.
You have flown halfway across Europe and ambushed me on my family holiday.
I'm assuming you haven't got any other pressing engagements in Malta later today.
- No.
- No.
Good.
OK, I'll be back in a few hours.
Just keep a low profile.
Don't let the kids see you and, when I get back, we can talk, just you and me.
But I've got to go, Martin.
Please.
OK.
Mr Swan, sorry to bother you, but I have a message for you from your employer.
Oh, well, that's funny.
She's here with me now.
- What did you want, my darling? - This is joke, yes? Barely, but, yes, he's joking.
I think she means Ronnie, darling.
No, telephone call was from Miss Jo Scott.
She asked you to call the showroom urgently.
Well, that's a bit fucking weird, innit? Jo tracking you down on holiday.
Not really.
She's off her trolley.
Probably looking for where we keep the tea bags.
Well, you better call her back, then.
No, fuck her.
She can wait.
We're on holiday.
If I need someone to remind me what an arsehole I am, we can bring Nat to lunch.
If she calls back, tell her I said she's not my fucking boss, got that? An absolute pleasure meeting you both.
Good luck with the new windows.
- You'll be the envy of all the neighbours.
- Thank you.
And don't brag too loudly about my godfather, Philip, using the same style in the Balmoral refurbishment.
OK, well, thanks very much.
Bye.
Fuck me.
Too much? Research is the key to great character writing for me.
My next novel's about a double glazing salesman serial killer, hence being here.
Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you and wear your skin as a dress.
THEY LAUGH Probably my biggest part was playing Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory.
Well, a bona fide child star in our front room, Trevor.
Wasn't Violet Beauregarde American? AMERICAN ACCENT: She sure was, buddy! Why did you quit? Let's just say the Everlasting Gobstopper wasn't the only thing the producer asked me to suck on.
Bloody hell, that IS a yacht.
Why, what do you think I meant when I said lunch on a yacht? Well, I guess I was half expecting a bag of chips on a pedalo.
- How do you know these people? - Friends of Ronnie's.
Permission to walk your plank, Mr Setra? You know you always have my permission, Vincent.
And who is this delightful creature? - Hello, I'm Sam.
- Hi, Sam.
Pleasure to meet you.
My name is Roland.
Although most people seem to prepare calling me Mr Setra.
Must be my schoolmasterly manner.
No, surely it's because you're a man of distinction, Mr Setra.
Oh, I can see how this one keeps you on the straight and narrow, Vincent.
Vincent, Sam, this is my business partner, Alan Rudd, and his wife, Maggie.
Pleased to meet you, Vincent.
I've heard nothing but good things.
Now, this man might look like a Les Dawson impersonator who has had an accident with a tin of creosote, but, in reality, he's one of Europe's most wealthiest time-share property developers.
For the uninitiated, time-share works like this, for an affordable upfront fee, any schmuck could now part-own a luxury property on a resort, the trade-off being that they could only use it for a few weeks a year.
More importantly, time-share was like the fucking Wild West for selling.
Unethical practices, zero regulations and the opportunity to make life-changing amounts of money.
The hedonistic distractions were also fall-of-the-Roman-Empire level but we'll come back to that later.
As I'm sure you gathered, we're looking for someone to run a line of closers at the new Marbella resort.
No such thing as a free lunch, eh? Vincent, are you interested? I'm fairly sure the package will fare comfortably into what you're earning with Ronnie.
Boys, the double glazing business has been good for me, but it's not the game it once was.
Trading Standards, cooling-off periods, a relentless tide of charmless fuckers who've wasted their life savings on courses in how to sell.
Being a closer isn't something you learn, or even aspire to do.
It's in your fucking blood.
Am I right, Alan? I'll take that as you registering an interest.
Absolutely.
There is, of course, a large and dangerously psychotic elephant in the room, my current employer.
He might not be too keen about me walking away from Cachet.
I've known Ronnie for a very long time, Vincent.
He might not be as intractable as you think.
With your permission, may I deal with the Ronnie issue directly? - Be my guest.
- What about Sam? Do you think she could be persuaded to up sticks, take the kids out of school? Sweetheart? How do you feel about leaving Essex behind and going to live by the Mediterranean for a few years? Oh, sunshine and yachts over rain and the oil refinery.
Might need a few seconds to think about that, babe.
Well, allow me to make a toast to making obscene amounts of money in the Spanish sunshine.
Cheers.
Back at the hotel, amazingly, the Teenyboppers were being 100% literal about their wildlife shoot.
It turns out that the Maltese have a very liberal attitude to hunting.
The national motto of Malta might as well be if it flies, it dies.
While Lavender, having sunk a few pints of Dutch courage was now sleeping like a mad dog in the midday sun.
Walkies.
Just stop it.
Right, you go and get changed.
I'm going to go rescue Nat from the slow social death of Teenyboppers, OK? Good plan.
Quick question, what's the rate for international calls from your hotel? There you are.
Jesus! It's cheaper to rent a suite here than it is to phone England.
- Excuse me? - Yes, sir.
I just dropped my key into the box but I need to get it back.
- Do you mind? It's 212.
- OK.
Grazie.
That's £14,000 worth of business in a single day.
Plus three Oscar nominations.
Sorry, was I too mental? Who cares, baby.
You were sensational.
PHONE RINGS No more answering the phone for you, my dear.
Hello? Cachet Windows and Doors.
What the fuck are you playing at, calling me out here? One minute.
Carol, do you mind nipping downstairs and keeping an eye on the showroom for me? Thanks.
Clock's ticking, Vincent, and I haven't had my answer.
Are you coming back to work for me or do I have to confess all to Sam? Cos we both know who she'll believe.
This isn't a game, Jo.
We're talking about my marriage, - about my family.
- Oh, it's all a game, Vincent.
Only some of us are better at playing it than others.
Is winning that important to you? Oh, winning isn't the important thing.
It's the only thing.
This is getting complicated.
I can't stop thinking about you, about us.
Really? So what's it going to be, Vincent? What's your next move? I want you to take your hand and slide it over that perfect belly, between your legs.
Oh, I like this move.
What's next? What the hell, Martin? You call this fucking incognito? Sam I must have dozed off.
- Did my kids see you? - No, no.
I've been Oh, fuck me! My feet are on fire.
Oh! Oh, my God.
Oh! Fuck! - Are you all right? - Nothing a bit of aftersun won't cure.
Look, we can't do this here.
Vincent's going to see us.
- Let's go inside.
- I don't care.
I'm here to say what I should have said that day in the car.
No, you can't do this.
I came for your flag, Sam.
RJ was right.
I've been in the trenches all my life.
Christ, I'm thirsty.
Robbie, what the fuck are they? Seagulls and a woodpecker.
Jesus, mate.
Where's your sister? Last time I saw her she was getting a massage from the creepy barman.
Right, get rid of those and get up to the room.
Motherfucker.
Wasn't enough to screw my wife behind my back, was it? Vincent, I'm here for Sam.
HE RETCHES You must have lost your fucking mind if you think Sam's going to leave me for a pathetic wanker like you.
- Leave him alone.
I think he's got sunstroke.
- I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry, everyone.
Hang on a second.
You knew about me and him? No.
Well, yes, but I only found out a few days ago.
Right.
And you are going to mention that to me, when? On the plane home? Christmas fucking Day? Or never! Sam, I need to tell you what I came here to say.
No, you need to get the fuck out of here.
Shut up, Vincent.
I can speak for myself.
Look, if you don't love me then tell me and I will walk away forever.
But if there's even the tiniest bit of you that still imagines what a life together could be like, then we can build on that, Sam.
In what world did you think this would be OK, Martin? Flying out here, embarrassing me in public, in front of strangers, my family, and giving me two and a half minutes to make a decision about the rest of my life.
Why do men think everything is that fucking simple? You need to go, Martin.
- You heard her.
- I'm fucking warning you, Vincent! OK, I'm going.
Goodbye, Sam.
Martin? Oh, my God.
Look at the state of him.
PEOPLE LAUGH Oh, he's not well.
Get off me.
How is this my fucking fault? Why didn't you mention that you know about Martin and me and how the fuck did Jo find out? Just calm down, babe, all right? I can explain.
Of course you can, Vincent, cos you've always got a fucking answer for everything.
SHE SCREAMS Oh, Christ.
They're trophies from Robbie's Teenybopper bird hunt.
Look, I need you to know this.
I'm not cheating on you.
The only reason I didn't say anything is because I have no fucking right to be angry about it.
We were separated.
I've been a terrible prick and, while I hate the idea of anyone else being with you, touching you, dickheads in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.
I've taken you for granted, baby.
So, while it killed me, hearing it, how could I blame you? Jo is trying to destroy me, baby.
Do not let that bitch come between us.
I want it to be true, Vince.
It is, baby, I promise.
On Robbie's pet seagull's life.
Oh, I like it.
Superstar shades for my superstar saleswoman.
- Can I have a word? - Yeah.
- Jesus, what's happened to your eyes? - Oh, I couldn't sleep.
Tried to drink myself out, but all I had in the flat was a bottle of old cooking sherry.
I think I've had a reaction.
I've been puking all night.
Do you want to go home, sleep it off? Jo, how do you sleep at night? I've always been a good sleeper.
Here you are.
Take a Valium, take the edge off.
No, I mean, how do you live with it? Lying to all those people.
Honey, there's nothing wrong with selling people things they need and making a profit from it.
I mean, you don't object to being sold things you need, like food, clothes, ciggies.
Yeah, but Co-op don't come around my house, telling me they're going to feed the world for Bob Geldof then make me massively overpay for my groceries.
I never asked you to lie.
Oh, please.
Can I just have my old job back? Is not too late, as it? I'll take a pay cut.
Anything.
Oh, come here.
Of course you can.
As long as I can use that Geldof line.
Oh, thank God.
The next day, Lavender left Malta a broken man.
On top of sunstroke, he'd gotten second-degree sunburn on his feet, but nothing ached more than the poor sap's heart.
At least he'd learnt one important lesson, never take life advice from a Stratego-obsessed freak with a borderline personality disorder.
And after a few extra Maltese nights, it was time for the Swans to fly home.
Ah, the wanderer returns.
Miss me? Strange, I have.
Must be true what they say.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
SHE CLEARS THROA Sorry to interrupt.
Ronnie's son's downstairs.
He seems really upset about something.
Look, just calm down, all right? - When did you and your mum last see your dad? - Friday morning.
- And everything was normal? - He called me a huge disappointment and left for work, so, yeah.
Business as usual.
Maybe he had to go away on a business trip.
Well, he always checks in with Mum when he's away, - wherever the antiques business may take him.
- Antiques business? Hang on.
I saw this episode once of Antiques Roadshow.
The museum owner was killed by a 300-year-old Japanese sword.
Now, the killer hid in a suit of armour.
Actually, that could have been an episode of Columbo or Scooby-Doo.
Look, just go home and be with your mum, all right? I'm sure he'll show up with a funny or terrifying story to tell.
I'll call you as soon as I hear from him.
OK.
Thanks, Vincent.
Yeah.
PHONE RINGS Cachet Windows and Doors.
Vincent.
Roland Setra calling.
How the devil are you? Mr Setra.
To what do I owe the pleasure? I just wanted to let you know that I've managed to take care of your employment issues and that the path for you take up our job offer is, shall we say, unhindered.
Sorry, employment issues? Your Ronnie problem is taken care of.
Look forward to seeing you soon in Marbella, Vincent.
OK, Mr Setra, that sounds lovely.
See you soon, sir.
Bye.
Fuck.
It's all there.
Good boy.
Now here's your ticket.
A Mr Setra will meet you at the hotel, go straight there, deliver the cash, get out.
No fucking about, you got it? Not even time for a quick dip in the sea? You fuck this up, I'll arrange a much longer dip for you.
Jesus, I was only making a joke.
Well, in that case, so was I.
Have a good trip.
Hello? I've got a business trip booked to Malta with you and I wanted to see if I could book seats for the rest of my family.
My name's Vincent Swan, Dr Vincent Swan.
Great.
Also, I'm speaking at a medical conference and I could use a few hours on the flight to prepare.
Is there any chance of a business class upgrade? No, just the one seat would be fine.
If Ronnie's going to treat me like a mule, I'm going to make damn sure I get a kick out of it.
That's the craziest shit I've ever heard.
I know.
Can you believe that Machiavellian bitch Jo engineered the whole thing just to get one over on Vincent? No, not that.
The fact that Sam found you attractive.
Thanks very much.
Oh, come on, mate.
She's gorgeous and you you're like a completely different species.
Let me get this straight.
YOU were the one who wouldn't commit? - Can we change the subject? - I mean, you have looked at yourself in the mirror before, right? How's the boy wonder working out? Oh, God.
He is even more of a pillock then I remembered.
Good, that's what I was hoping for.
How about I come over and work for you? Unfortunately, that ship has sailed.
No, Walsh has made it abundantly clear that I'm not allowed to take on any more staff.
Can't you just sack RJ? One in one out? Look, if you want to go and tell his nutcase of a dad that you got his fuckwit son fired, then be my guest.
Here you go, Brian.
What's that? - Orange juice and lemonade.
- I asked for a pint.
Sorry, got distracted.
Got chatting to the young damsel behind the bar.
Well, a real-life damsel in distress.
Quite the opposite, lavatory.
She gave me her number which means, by the end of the day, she'll very likely be a damsel out of a dress as opposed to in a dress - because she'll be naked.
- Yes, I think I get it, RJ.
This is bollocks.
How did a freak like you managed to pull her? If Stratego has taught me one thing, no advances were ever made without taking risks, my compadres.
You can't capture the enemy's flag without coming out of your trench.
You're right.
He's right.
You're a creepy genius.
It is that simple.
I've got to go.
- Thank you, RJ.
- Don't thank me, thank Stratego.
Wow.
I don't suppose there's any danger of you applying this go-get-'em attitude to selling our windows? - Wouldn't work.
- Why not? Cos, ultimately, I don't give a toss about selling windows, Brian.
Yeah, that's the spirit.
Ronnie's errand had at least put a few thousand miles between me and that marriage-wrecking time bomb, Jo.
When you're caught between a rock and a hard place, it takes the edge off when the rock is a sun-kissed Mediterranean island.
So that's room 211, double bed with the pull-out bed for children.
I'm not sleeping with Rob, you know he stinks of BO now.
- I don't want to catch your zits! - You horrible little shit.
Mum! Excuse me, sweetheart, do you have any adjoining rooms? No, but we have a junior suite available.
Rate is 200 Maltese lira per night.
Then what's that in real money? In English pounds sterling, that's £320.
Nice try.
You and I both know rate cards are only used to fleece the terminally stupid or the stupidly wealthy.
I'm sorry, I not really understand.
Is there anyone else who could check us in? I said, only very rich or very stupid, like that pair behind, pay that.
Now, what can you do for me on that sweet price? What did he say? I'm sorry, I can't do deals on the price.
All right, how about a complimentary upgrade? I'm a very generous tipper after a good night's sleep.
This is ridiculous.
Can you hurry up, please? I'm sorry, your Highness, but we haven't finished yet.
- Come on, what's your best price? - I'm so sorry.
You know what they say, if you have to ask for the price, you definitely can't afford it.
Is there any chance you could let someone else check in? It's OK.
Vincent, come on.
Let's just look at the room.
I'm sure it's lovely.
OK.
All yours.
Although I think you'll find there's a no dogs allowed policy at this hotel.
Vincent, go.
And you.
What did he say? All right, try not to drown.
I don't want to spend the whole holiday filling out forms.
You're so funny, Mum.
Last one in the pool gets the camp bed with the blood-stained sheets.
Isn't Nat a bit old for Bun-buns? She told me to bring him.
Apparently he's never been to Malta before.
Oh, that's sweet.
Thank you, Vincent.
I needed a break.
Nothing beats a few days of the four "S"s.
Sun, sea, sand and And sharing a room with our two children.
Might need to settle for the three "S"s.
There's always the beach at night.
No, thanks.
I'm not a bloody turtle.
Although I am still a big fan of doggy.
Oh, easy, Lassie.
One of us should watch the kids swim.
Why don't I finished unpacking and get it nice and cosy in here for us? That is disturbingly sensible for you.
I quite like this new being waited on hand and foot.
First you pack the case coming out here, now everything gets hanged up at this and.
It's like having a sexy butler.
Just call me Jeeves.
- See you in half an hour.
- OK.
That was close.
I probably could've hidden this roll somewhere else, but who doesn't enjoy the feel of a cool five grand in 50s laying against their nutsack.
Now, in case you were wondering where the rest of Ronnie's illicit cash is stuffed Oh, bad luck.
Sea view's this side.
Excuse me, I'm looking for a Mr Setra.
- Yeah, right there.
- Thanks.
Ronnie's dirty laundry, I believe.
I'm enjoying the symbolism, Mr Swan.
Please, call me Vincent.
Do I need a receipt? I'm afraid we operate a strictly sans paperwork facility, Vincent.
Tell Ronnie we'll scrub this until it's unrecognisable.
Now, there was one other matter I was hoping to discuss with you.
- When do you leave? - In a few days.
Perfect.
That's just enough time to discover what this intriguing little island has to offer and to join me for a spot of lunch on my yacht tomorrow.
I have to tell you, I'm here with my wife.
I'm not trying to seduce you, if you're worried.
Not really.
I get more offended when people don't want to sleep with me, Mr Setra.
It's just she might finally divorce me if I disappear for an afternoon.
She's more than welcome.
Do you know where the marina is? I'm going to guess, is it on the edge of the sea? Pier seven.
You can't miss us.
I'll see you tomorrow at one.
Now that Ronnie's contraband was safely delivered, the only bulge in my underpants was the one reserved for the woman of my dreams.
I must admit, this one of your better ideas, Vincent Swan.
I do have them sometimes.
Thank you.
And Nat was embracing every teenage girl's rite of passage by flirting with a greasy Maltese waiter.
I needed this.
So it is now a good time to re-pitch my sex on the beach idea? The cocktail, or the agonising sand-in-the-fanny sexual experience? One of each.
How about no? Fair enough.
How about I offer you lunch on a yacht instead? Oh, much better.
Now, if only you had a yacht.
Or knew a man who does.
I'm serious.
A friend of Ronnie's has invited us out to lunch on a yacht tomorrow.
Really? Wow, I've never been on a yacht before.
What about the kids? Hotel's got a kids' club.
They're capable of looking after themselves for a few hours.
Yeah, why not? What is it, Rob? Nat's been getting the waiter to sneak vodka - in her orange all night.
- Stop telling tales.
She threw up on her shoes.
Oh, sweetheart.
I'll kill that fucking waiter.
It's not his fault, Dad.
I told him I was 18.
He'll be in for a nice shock when he sees you at the Teenyboppers kids' club tomorrow.
- What? I ain't going to a kids' club.
- Yes, you are.
Why do you all have to be so embarrassing all the time? Says the girl who pebble-dashed the hotel bar floor.
Mum, tell them.
Oh, God.
SHE RETCHES That's it, baby.
There you go, get it all out.
At least you'll be the first kid at Teenyboppers - to turn up with a hangover.
- Shut up.
Look, I'm taking a few days off.
- Yeah, sure.
When were you thinking? - Well, from now.
Oh, no sorry.
I've got Vincent swanning off on some Ronnie-inspired errand.
I can't lose my only other salesman.
I wasn't calling for permission.
I'm just letting you know.
Thank you.
What a thoroughly decent arsehole you are.
You betrayed my trust, fucked up my career, and potentially a marriage, just to score some cheap point over Vincent, and I'M the arsehole? Christ, such a drama queen.
Are you even going to tell me what you're doing? I'm capturing the flag.
Right, Carol.
You've been promoted to field sales.
Show me you can outperform Lavender in the next two days and you can have his job.
Any questions? - You're not in Kansas any more.
- What are you doing? - Is not a dream, is it? - No.
Please don't make me reconsider.
And before you hang up your receptionist boots, find me the number to wherever that fucker Vincent's staying.
Oh, God, I think I'm going to puke.
I get nerves.
Breathe, Carol.
Nerves are perfectly natural.
You'll not tell another soul this, but I wet myself when I closed my first deal.
Did you, though, or are you just trying to make me feel better? Both.
Still carry spare knickers in the car.
Just remember, they requested more information.
You're here to gently nudge that interest towards a purchase, so make it memorable for them.
Be engaged, flatter them, make them laugh.
- Sounds more like a blind date.
- Actually, it's a lot like that.
How do you manage your nerves on a date? I just try and pretend to be someone else.
Good, that's just what selling is.
You're presenting a heightened version of yourself.
- OK.
I can do that.
- Good.
Right? DOORBELL I think I'm going to need to borrow those spare knickers later.
- Are you sure you don't want a tea? - No, water's fine.
SHE GULPS SHE EXHALES Carol, do you want to tell Dave and Annie a little bit more about who we are? My name's Caroline Ewing the Third.
I know what you're thinking, why is someone like me sitting in your beautiful front room, attempting to extol the virtues of replacement windows? I weren't expecting that.
Neither was I, Annie.
But at 18 I decided to turn my back on a life of luxury and comfort and go out into the big, wide world to make something of myself on my terms.
- Good for you, love.
- Yeah.
Meanwhile, Lavender's mission to capture the flag had entered a critical phase.
It was time to go over the top.
You've only got to be a Teenybopper for one afternoon, Nat.
But what if Kristof sees me? Well, he'll just think you're looking after your little brother, while your wonderful mother swans off - for a swanky meal on a luxury yacht.
- Don't take the piss.
I'm not.
I appreciate it.
Cool, we're going hunting.
Can we really be from the same gene pool? We're taking photos, you div.
Right, here's some money.
Don't let Robbie blow it all on the arcade machines, OK? Be back in a few hours.
Come here.
Oh, did you wash your hair? I just got a whiff of vodka orange puke.
- You didn't, did you? - Go on, got to go.
Bye.
Sam, I need to talk to you.
Jesus Christ, Martin.
What are you doing here? I needed to see you.
Shit.
Vincent will be down any minute.
It's OK, I can say whatever I've got to say in front of Vincent.
No! No.
Just calm down.
What are you talking about? - Why are you even here? - This can't wait.
Sam, I've wasted so much time already.
- You asked me once if I was ready to commit.
- What? Of course this can fucking wait.
You have flown halfway across Europe and ambushed me on my family holiday.
I'm assuming you haven't got any other pressing engagements in Malta later today.
- No.
- No.
Good.
OK, I'll be back in a few hours.
Just keep a low profile.
Don't let the kids see you and, when I get back, we can talk, just you and me.
But I've got to go, Martin.
Please.
OK.
Mr Swan, sorry to bother you, but I have a message for you from your employer.
Oh, well, that's funny.
She's here with me now.
- What did you want, my darling? - This is joke, yes? Barely, but, yes, he's joking.
I think she means Ronnie, darling.
No, telephone call was from Miss Jo Scott.
She asked you to call the showroom urgently.
Well, that's a bit fucking weird, innit? Jo tracking you down on holiday.
Not really.
She's off her trolley.
Probably looking for where we keep the tea bags.
Well, you better call her back, then.
No, fuck her.
She can wait.
We're on holiday.
If I need someone to remind me what an arsehole I am, we can bring Nat to lunch.
If she calls back, tell her I said she's not my fucking boss, got that? An absolute pleasure meeting you both.
Good luck with the new windows.
- You'll be the envy of all the neighbours.
- Thank you.
And don't brag too loudly about my godfather, Philip, using the same style in the Balmoral refurbishment.
OK, well, thanks very much.
Bye.
Fuck me.
Too much? Research is the key to great character writing for me.
My next novel's about a double glazing salesman serial killer, hence being here.
Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you and wear your skin as a dress.
THEY LAUGH Probably my biggest part was playing Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory.
Well, a bona fide child star in our front room, Trevor.
Wasn't Violet Beauregarde American? AMERICAN ACCENT: She sure was, buddy! Why did you quit? Let's just say the Everlasting Gobstopper wasn't the only thing the producer asked me to suck on.
Bloody hell, that IS a yacht.
Why, what do you think I meant when I said lunch on a yacht? Well, I guess I was half expecting a bag of chips on a pedalo.
- How do you know these people? - Friends of Ronnie's.
Permission to walk your plank, Mr Setra? You know you always have my permission, Vincent.
And who is this delightful creature? - Hello, I'm Sam.
- Hi, Sam.
Pleasure to meet you.
My name is Roland.
Although most people seem to prepare calling me Mr Setra.
Must be my schoolmasterly manner.
No, surely it's because you're a man of distinction, Mr Setra.
Oh, I can see how this one keeps you on the straight and narrow, Vincent.
Vincent, Sam, this is my business partner, Alan Rudd, and his wife, Maggie.
Pleased to meet you, Vincent.
I've heard nothing but good things.
Now, this man might look like a Les Dawson impersonator who has had an accident with a tin of creosote, but, in reality, he's one of Europe's most wealthiest time-share property developers.
For the uninitiated, time-share works like this, for an affordable upfront fee, any schmuck could now part-own a luxury property on a resort, the trade-off being that they could only use it for a few weeks a year.
More importantly, time-share was like the fucking Wild West for selling.
Unethical practices, zero regulations and the opportunity to make life-changing amounts of money.
The hedonistic distractions were also fall-of-the-Roman-Empire level but we'll come back to that later.
As I'm sure you gathered, we're looking for someone to run a line of closers at the new Marbella resort.
No such thing as a free lunch, eh? Vincent, are you interested? I'm fairly sure the package will fare comfortably into what you're earning with Ronnie.
Boys, the double glazing business has been good for me, but it's not the game it once was.
Trading Standards, cooling-off periods, a relentless tide of charmless fuckers who've wasted their life savings on courses in how to sell.
Being a closer isn't something you learn, or even aspire to do.
It's in your fucking blood.
Am I right, Alan? I'll take that as you registering an interest.
Absolutely.
There is, of course, a large and dangerously psychotic elephant in the room, my current employer.
He might not be too keen about me walking away from Cachet.
I've known Ronnie for a very long time, Vincent.
He might not be as intractable as you think.
With your permission, may I deal with the Ronnie issue directly? - Be my guest.
- What about Sam? Do you think she could be persuaded to up sticks, take the kids out of school? Sweetheart? How do you feel about leaving Essex behind and going to live by the Mediterranean for a few years? Oh, sunshine and yachts over rain and the oil refinery.
Might need a few seconds to think about that, babe.
Well, allow me to make a toast to making obscene amounts of money in the Spanish sunshine.
Cheers.
Back at the hotel, amazingly, the Teenyboppers were being 100% literal about their wildlife shoot.
It turns out that the Maltese have a very liberal attitude to hunting.
The national motto of Malta might as well be if it flies, it dies.
While Lavender, having sunk a few pints of Dutch courage was now sleeping like a mad dog in the midday sun.
Walkies.
Just stop it.
Right, you go and get changed.
I'm going to go rescue Nat from the slow social death of Teenyboppers, OK? Good plan.
Quick question, what's the rate for international calls from your hotel? There you are.
Jesus! It's cheaper to rent a suite here than it is to phone England.
- Excuse me? - Yes, sir.
I just dropped my key into the box but I need to get it back.
- Do you mind? It's 212.
- OK.
Grazie.
That's £14,000 worth of business in a single day.
Plus three Oscar nominations.
Sorry, was I too mental? Who cares, baby.
You were sensational.
PHONE RINGS No more answering the phone for you, my dear.
Hello? Cachet Windows and Doors.
What the fuck are you playing at, calling me out here? One minute.
Carol, do you mind nipping downstairs and keeping an eye on the showroom for me? Thanks.
Clock's ticking, Vincent, and I haven't had my answer.
Are you coming back to work for me or do I have to confess all to Sam? Cos we both know who she'll believe.
This isn't a game, Jo.
We're talking about my marriage, - about my family.
- Oh, it's all a game, Vincent.
Only some of us are better at playing it than others.
Is winning that important to you? Oh, winning isn't the important thing.
It's the only thing.
This is getting complicated.
I can't stop thinking about you, about us.
Really? So what's it going to be, Vincent? What's your next move? I want you to take your hand and slide it over that perfect belly, between your legs.
Oh, I like this move.
What's next? What the hell, Martin? You call this fucking incognito? Sam I must have dozed off.
- Did my kids see you? - No, no.
I've been Oh, fuck me! My feet are on fire.
Oh! Oh, my God.
Oh! Fuck! - Are you all right? - Nothing a bit of aftersun won't cure.
Look, we can't do this here.
Vincent's going to see us.
- Let's go inside.
- I don't care.
I'm here to say what I should have said that day in the car.
No, you can't do this.
I came for your flag, Sam.
RJ was right.
I've been in the trenches all my life.
Christ, I'm thirsty.
Robbie, what the fuck are they? Seagulls and a woodpecker.
Jesus, mate.
Where's your sister? Last time I saw her she was getting a massage from the creepy barman.
Right, get rid of those and get up to the room.
Motherfucker.
Wasn't enough to screw my wife behind my back, was it? Vincent, I'm here for Sam.
HE RETCHES You must have lost your fucking mind if you think Sam's going to leave me for a pathetic wanker like you.
- Leave him alone.
I think he's got sunstroke.
- I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry, everyone.
Hang on a second.
You knew about me and him? No.
Well, yes, but I only found out a few days ago.
Right.
And you are going to mention that to me, when? On the plane home? Christmas fucking Day? Or never! Sam, I need to tell you what I came here to say.
No, you need to get the fuck out of here.
Shut up, Vincent.
I can speak for myself.
Look, if you don't love me then tell me and I will walk away forever.
But if there's even the tiniest bit of you that still imagines what a life together could be like, then we can build on that, Sam.
In what world did you think this would be OK, Martin? Flying out here, embarrassing me in public, in front of strangers, my family, and giving me two and a half minutes to make a decision about the rest of my life.
Why do men think everything is that fucking simple? You need to go, Martin.
- You heard her.
- I'm fucking warning you, Vincent! OK, I'm going.
Goodbye, Sam.
Martin? Oh, my God.
Look at the state of him.
PEOPLE LAUGH Oh, he's not well.
Get off me.
How is this my fucking fault? Why didn't you mention that you know about Martin and me and how the fuck did Jo find out? Just calm down, babe, all right? I can explain.
Of course you can, Vincent, cos you've always got a fucking answer for everything.
SHE SCREAMS Oh, Christ.
They're trophies from Robbie's Teenybopper bird hunt.
Look, I need you to know this.
I'm not cheating on you.
The only reason I didn't say anything is because I have no fucking right to be angry about it.
We were separated.
I've been a terrible prick and, while I hate the idea of anyone else being with you, touching you, dickheads in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.
I've taken you for granted, baby.
So, while it killed me, hearing it, how could I blame you? Jo is trying to destroy me, baby.
Do not let that bitch come between us.
I want it to be true, Vince.
It is, baby, I promise.
On Robbie's pet seagull's life.
Oh, I like it.
Superstar shades for my superstar saleswoman.
- Can I have a word? - Yeah.
- Jesus, what's happened to your eyes? - Oh, I couldn't sleep.
Tried to drink myself out, but all I had in the flat was a bottle of old cooking sherry.
I think I've had a reaction.
I've been puking all night.
Do you want to go home, sleep it off? Jo, how do you sleep at night? I've always been a good sleeper.
Here you are.
Take a Valium, take the edge off.
No, I mean, how do you live with it? Lying to all those people.
Honey, there's nothing wrong with selling people things they need and making a profit from it.
I mean, you don't object to being sold things you need, like food, clothes, ciggies.
Yeah, but Co-op don't come around my house, telling me they're going to feed the world for Bob Geldof then make me massively overpay for my groceries.
I never asked you to lie.
Oh, please.
Can I just have my old job back? Is not too late, as it? I'll take a pay cut.
Anything.
Oh, come here.
Of course you can.
As long as I can use that Geldof line.
Oh, thank God.
The next day, Lavender left Malta a broken man.
On top of sunstroke, he'd gotten second-degree sunburn on his feet, but nothing ached more than the poor sap's heart.
At least he'd learnt one important lesson, never take life advice from a Stratego-obsessed freak with a borderline personality disorder.
And after a few extra Maltese nights, it was time for the Swans to fly home.
Ah, the wanderer returns.
Miss me? Strange, I have.
Must be true what they say.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
SHE CLEARS THROA Sorry to interrupt.
Ronnie's son's downstairs.
He seems really upset about something.
Look, just calm down, all right? - When did you and your mum last see your dad? - Friday morning.
- And everything was normal? - He called me a huge disappointment and left for work, so, yeah.
Business as usual.
Maybe he had to go away on a business trip.
Well, he always checks in with Mum when he's away, - wherever the antiques business may take him.
- Antiques business? Hang on.
I saw this episode once of Antiques Roadshow.
The museum owner was killed by a 300-year-old Japanese sword.
Now, the killer hid in a suit of armour.
Actually, that could have been an episode of Columbo or Scooby-Doo.
Look, just go home and be with your mum, all right? I'm sure he'll show up with a funny or terrifying story to tell.
I'll call you as soon as I hear from him.
OK.
Thanks, Vincent.
Yeah.
PHONE RINGS Cachet Windows and Doors.
Vincent.
Roland Setra calling.
How the devil are you? Mr Setra.
To what do I owe the pleasure? I just wanted to let you know that I've managed to take care of your employment issues and that the path for you take up our job offer is, shall we say, unhindered.
Sorry, employment issues? Your Ronnie problem is taken care of.
Look forward to seeing you soon in Marbella, Vincent.
OK, Mr Setra, that sounds lovely.
See you soon, sir.
Bye.
Fuck.