Rings on Their Fingers (1978) s03e05 Episode Script

1 Ah-h-h-h! Well, all I can say is darling, if we weren't going on holiday tomorrow, I'd be going somewhere else.
Into hospital.
Because I am knackered.
First holiday for two years! Two years of hell on wheels! Working for promotion, moving, getting married Well, I'm going to go and have a session in the pub at lunchtime.
I did tell you, didn't I? They're giving me a holiday send-off.
Yes, poor devils.
They'll have to stagger back to work, and I shall be able to stagger straight home to you.
Oh, yes, and then we'll go through what we talked about last night.
Yes, we'll sit down and discuss every single rotten thing that could possibly go wrong on our way to Nice, and we'll make sure it doesn't damn well happen tomorrow.
Yes, every holiday you and I have ever taken, something has always gone wrong, either before, during or immediately after the journey out.
Also on the journey back, but when you're burnt black and smashed out of your mind, you don't worry so much, do you? So notebooks out when I get back.
- What are you doing? - What? - Lolling about.
Where's my egg? - Oh, I'm sorry, darling.
I don't feel too well.
Oh, bad luck.
Still, it's all right for you, isn't it? I mean, you can go straight back to bed the moment I've tottered out.
Yes.
Well, I might this morning.
This morning? I bet you do it most mornings.
It's a bit of indigestion, I think.
What do you think I get every morning, dashing to the bus with marmalade round my mouth and half a pot of tea swilling about inside me? Oh, you'd better look at your poached egg.
- Aren't you having anything? - Ergh.
Well, that's a great start to the morning, isn't it? Making conversation with a poached egg.
- It's like India rubber! - Oh, sorry, darling.
I'll do you another one.
No, no, go back to bed.
I don't feel like breakfast.
- I've got a bit of a sore throat.
- What? Oliver, you must take something.
Oh, good heavens, darling, I've got a heavy morning.
I can't afford to stuff myself with dope.
No, the best cure is to ignore it, busy yourself, triumph over pain through work.
Minor ailments won't hang around long if they find they're not being indulged.
- Oliver, I don't know how you can say that.
- What? Well, the slightest thing wrong with you and it's moans, groans and temperature-taking.
- Oh, rubbish.
- It's true.
What about the time you cut your hand? Went on for hours about blood poisoning.
Then you found you couldn't move your head, immediately suspected tetanus and started worrying because you hadn't made a will.
Hm! Then the doctor came, said it was the cleanest cut he'd ever seen, and the only other thing wrong with you was a stiff neck.
Yes, well, I don't think I came out of that too badly.
- I I did think of you.
- When? - Well, I wanted to make a will.
- For a stiff neck? I was exceptionally considerate at a time of great personal worry.
But what have you done for me? Over-poached my egg.
I over-poached your egg because you took so long telling me how to triumph over pain through work.
- Well, you've forgotten about it now.
- No, I haven't.
You have! You were so busy bawling me out, you've completely forgotten.
You make me out to be a hypochondriac! No, I'm sorry, darling.
- Oliver! - No, no, no.
No.
You go back to bad, darling, and if you lie there and really concentrate, you might be able to get your indigestion back again.
Hello! Oh, Mr Manderson.
Morning, sir.
No, I'm sorry, sir.
I am a bit late today.
Pardon? Oh, is it really, sir? Oh.
No, it's just that, um my wife wasn't too well this morning.
But I have virtually finished the report, so you'll have it before I go on leave at lunchtime.
It I beg your pardon, sir? Oh, no, just a spot of indigestion, I think.
But well, it rather meant I had to cope a bit before I left.
Yes.
Well, thank you very much, sir.
I'm sure she will.
Yes, sir.
Thank you, sir.
Goodbye, sir.
Very quick thinking, Oliver.
- What? - I'll remember that one.
- Oh, Sandy? No, no, that's true, actually.
- You mean Sandy is ill? - Well - I'm very sorry, old boy.
I never dreamed.
Oh, that's all right, Victor.
- Bad, is it? - Nah, just indigestion, I think.
You've sent for the doctor? What? Oh, no.
Well, I told her to, but she didn't want to.
- You know what they're like.
- Yes, I do.
Hell of a lot braver than we are.
Are they? Oh, well, yes, I mean, of course they are.
- Martyrs.
- What? When it comes to sickness women are bloody martyrs.
Oh, well, yes, of course they are.
I'm sure she'll be better by the time I get home.
By the way, you haven't forgotten about drinks at lunchtime? - You won't stay for that, will you? - Won't I? Sorry to hear about Sandy, Oliver! Old Manderson's secretary just told me.
- Oh.
Well, yes.
Thanks, Ken.
- I know what it's like when my Sylvie complains.
Mind you, it takes a lot to get a squeak out of them, doesn't it? Just what I said to Oliver.
Isn't it, Oliver? They're martyrs! It's a real worry when suddenly something's wrong with them.
Absolutely! They don't go moaning and groaning about the place like us, at the first twinge.
- Do they? - No.
No.
No.
You get so used to them giving you sympathy, you never think you'll have to give it to them.
- No, no.
- No.
No As I said, last time Sylvia was ill It's not until you have to do without them that you realise I mean, you couldn't do without them! Isn't that right? - Yes.
- Yes.
Yes.
Well, ah anything I can do, Oliver.
Thanks, Ken.
- Oh see you lunchtime? - What? You'll be going straight home to Sandy, won't you? Oh Oh, yes.
Oh, I say.
Ha! I had to do that! Ha, ha! He's right, Oliver.
Go home.
We'll drink to Sandy's health, don't worry.
Thanks, Victor, but she might be better.
You never know.
It takes a lot to make women complain.
And if they are suffering, they just go quiet and look sort of spiritual.
- Oh.
Hello, darling, how are you? - Oliver? Yes, of course! How are you feeling, my darling? - Not too good.
- Oh.
- I'm in bed.
- Oh.
Well, jolly good.
Jolly good.
I'm sure by lunchtime you'll feel completely better.
Well, I'm not so sure, I'm afraid, so I called the doctor and he's coming to see me.
But you go ahead with your lunchtime drinks.
Don't worry about me, Oliver.
Oh are you sure? - Quite sure.
- Oh! Oh, well, good.
In that case - Except, um - What? Well, if the doctor should think I need a prescription, it would be nice if you could take it to the chemist's for me.
- Oh.
Well, let's let's wait and see, then.
- Yes, all right, then.
- Yes, let's not look on the black side.
- No.
- No.
OK.
Well, um - Except Yes? It's not Dr Robinson who's coming.
He's away.
It's his locum, and I don't know him.
I know this is going to sound silly, but I'd rather you were here.
- Does that sound silly? - No, no, of course not.
Oh, good.
Well, he's coming after surgery, so he'll be here about 12:00.
Do you think you can make that? - Well, I was - Oh, that's marvellous, darling.
- I'll see you soon.
Bye.
- But Sandy How is the poor girl? - She's fine.
Well, she sounded fine.
- Ah, well, they do, don't they? - Yes.
Well - Bloody martyrs.
- Oliver? - What are you doing out of bed? - Tidying myself for the doctor.
- Tidying? Yes.
I am feeling much, much better.
Isn't that good news? Well, yes, but Triumph over pain through work, isn't that what you said? Yes, but they were giving me a holiday send-off! I was going to - Ooh! - Sandy! It's all quiet, and then it suddenly jumps up and hits you.
Thank heavens I'm here.
Darling Are you all right? Into bed.
Gently does it.
- Darling, careful - Oh Oh, thank goodness you took my advice and sent for the doctor.
- Now, are you feeling quite comfy? - Yes, thank you.
- Anything you want? - No, thank you.
All right.
Well, the doctor will be here soon.
I'll just be next door, all right? If you want me, darling, just give me a call.
- OK? - Thank you, darling.
Ah Darling? - Another twinge? - No, no, I'm fine.
Darling, would you look in the wardrobe and see if you can find my shawl? - Your shawl? - Yes, the green one with the fringe.
I'll wear it instead of the dressing gown when the doctor comes.
Yes, that's it.
Fine.
Thank you, darling.
Here, darling.
I'll just leave it there.
- Fine.
Then when he comes, I can - Shh! Sorry.
Darling? Yes, darling? Darling, it's very stuffy in here.
Would you see if the window's open? - Oh, it is open.
- Wide open.
Sorry, darling.
You try and get some rest.
Sorry.
Oliver? Yes? Seems awfully stuffy in here with the curtains closed.
Could you open them, please, darling? Sorry, Oliver.
Thank you.
- Anything else while I'm here? - No, thank you.
- You're sure? - Quite sure.
Right! - Oliver? - Yes? - I feel like a glass of milk.
- No.
- Oh, don't you think I should? - No.
No.
Perhaps you're right.
Just a glass of water instead.
You know, this looks tatty.
I think I will wear my dressing gown.
Oh, thank you, darling.
- Sandy? - Don't you think this looks tatty? Is there or is there not anything wrong with you? Yes, of course there is.
That's why you came home.
- No, but how are you now? - Much better, thank you.
- Could I have a glass of milk? - I'm sure you could.
I'm fairly certain you could tackle a steak-and-kidney pudding with two veg.
- No, not at this time - I mean, Sandy, while you are holding your fashion show, exhibiting symptoms of the rudest good health, an overworked, underpaid and rather ancient doctor is speeding across London to save your life! Sorry.
Look.
Back in bed.
Promise I won't move again.
Would you tuck me in, please? Try and make the poor old fellow feel his journey was actually necessary.
- Mm.
- Thank you.
Mr Pryde? - Yes.
- Dr Blake.
I'm standing in for Dr Robinson.
Oh.
I gather that your wife is sick? Well, may I come in? Come in? Oh, um, yes.
Sorry! - Sorry, doctor.
Yes, come in.
- Thank you.
- How is your wife? - Oh ah she's better.
- In fact, she's very much better.
- Oh, good! So I'm afraid it's been rather a wild-goose chase.
Well, I think I'll take a look at her while I'm here, don't you? Um, she's fine.
Honestly.
If only because I've heard from Dr Robinson's receptionist that she's one of his most attractive patients.
Shall I go through? May I wash my hands? Oh, yes, in the ba In the kitchen.
- Yes, I'll tell my wife you're here.
- Righty-ho.
Hello, doctor.
- It's me.
- Oh.
I've I've told him you're much better, and he's very busy, so - What's he like? - What? Well, he sounds younger than Dr Robinson.
Oh, well, he is a bit.
- Mr Pryde? - Come in.
Oliver.
All right, doctor.
This is Dr Blake, darling.
- Hello, Dr Blake.
- Hello, Mrs Pryde.
Your husband's just been telling me I'm on a wild-goose chase.
Oh, I I just said how much better you felt.
Well, yes, but I had another twinge.
Don't you remember? It's all right, darling.
You go.
What? Oh, no, no.
I'll stay.
Well, if you wouldn't mind, Mr Pryde, I do want your wife to feel completely relaxed.
Relaxed? I beg you pardon? Oh, no, sorry.
Sorry.
Right.
I'll, um I'll I'll just be outside.
I can hear everything, you know.
If you call.
Ooh! - Cold hands? - Hm.
Oh Open wide.
Hello! Oh, sorry to shout, Ted.
What? Um, oh, no, no.
Tomorrow we I'd like to say yes.
We'd love a lift to the airport.
But Sandy's suddenly taken to bed with some dreaded lurgy.
The doctor's fumbling her attending to her at this moment.
So all we can do is keep everything very much crossed.
Here's the quack now.
I'll ring you back, Ted.
Well, Mr Pryde, your wife seems to have invented a new illness.
There's nothing wrong with her that I can see.
No temperature, clean tongue, and she's obviously feeling better by the minute.
Oh, well, that is splendid news, doctor.
But as you're going away tomorrow, I think it would be best if she pops into the surgery tonight, just to make absolutely certain that nothing's going to spoil your holiday.
- That would be a novelty.
- Oh, really? Well, I hope this year is an exception.
Goodbye.
- Goodbye.
Thank you.
- I'll see myself out.
Phew.
Well, that's a relief, darling.
- I wasn't shamming.
- No, I know you weren't.
That was Ted on the phone.
I'll ring him back and tell him when to pick us up tomorrow.
So all we've got left to do now is pack.
- Ooh, and make our list.
- List? - Of all the things that could go wrong.
- Could go wrong? Have gone wrong! OK.
Well, there was the year you forgot to pack my swimming trunks, so I had to buy a sort of brief Continental thing that certainly didn't cover my embarrassment.
Then there was the year you forgot the airline tickets.
You made a mistake over the take-off time.
- And the time you forgot the passports.
- You read 13:20 as 3:20.
- The year you forgot to cancel the papers.
- And you forgot to cancel the milk.
You didn't make a note of cancel the papers.
We came back to 12 pints of curds and whey.
- Cancel the papers! - All right! And the milk! Should have done it by now, anyway.
- The newsagent likes a week's notice.
- Would you stop changing the subject? Ted Darling, come on.
A motoring flash just in.
There's an accident in the Heathrow tunnel, which is causing considerable delays to passengers, and a tailback as far as the motorway's exit 3.
Sad news for air travellers there.
- This, however - Sorry, Jim.
Too late! We've gone! They've gone.
I'm sorry, Dr Blake.
I had the wrong number before.
You see, Mrs Pryde's number is right below Mrs Price's.
Yes.
It's an understandable mistake but an unfortunate one.
It means Mrs Pryde has just departed on holiday totally unaware that she is pregnant.
Yes, all right.
Thank you.
Bye-bye.
- Excuse me - Just a minute, sir.
- Oh, good grief.
- Well, at least it isn't my fault we missed it.
Oh, and that's a great comfort to us, is it? The plane is halfway to Nice, but we needn't worry, cos we didn't put it on our Things Going Wrong list.
Mr and Mrs Pryde? There's a seat on the Air France flight 501 to Nice, leaving in 40 minutes.
- Oh, great! - At last! - Only one seat.
- There, darling.
Didn't I tell you - One seat? - One of you will have to travel on a later plane.
Oh.
Thank you.
Right, well, my wife will go first.
Terminal 2.
Oliver, I hate travelling alone.
I'll have no-one to talk to.
But there's plenty to read.
All that literature about what to do if you come down in the sea.
Of course it won't! What's this down-in-the-sea business? You're flying, not swimming.
Right, darling.
Get to the hotel, unpack, order a large Pernod, and I'll be there before the ice has melted in your glass.
- Mrs Pryde? They're boarding.
- Thank you.
Come on, darling.
Come on.
And cheer up.
You're going on an aeroplane, not a tumbrel.
- Look, don't be long.
- No.
I'll tell the pilot.
Bye, darling.
- I'll see you soon! - I hope so.
Would Mrs Oliver Pryde, travelling to Nice, - please go to a freephone at once? - Oh dear! I'll go.
The plane won't wait for a 30-minute goodbye from your mother.
Do you think it's my mother? She might be seriously ill! I've told you before, God doesn't want her.
Now off you go.
- The nearest freephone, please? - Over there.
- Come back to this desk, please, Mr Pryde.
- Can't think of anywhere nicer.
Hello? Mr Oliver Pryde here.
Will I do? All right, thank you.
Hello, doctor.
Can I not speak to your wife? Oh, I'm sorry.
We had to go on separate flights.
Oh, well, I suppose, as you're the father Oh, yes, quite.
Father? I did some routine tests when your wife came to see me last evening.
She's pregnant, Mr Pryde.
Pregnant? Oh Oh Well, we certainly didn't have that on our list.
- I beg your pardon? - Well, no, I mean, um There isn't any chance of a mistake, is there? - What? - We weren't trying for a baby, you see.
Well, it makes it all the more of a surprise, then, doesn't it? Yes.
Actually, I'm sorry to beard you at the airport.
- I phoned Mrs Pryde's mother - Oh, bad luck.
to try and track you down.
I thought it important that your wife knew of her condition.
Ah Um How am I going to tell my wife? Well, choose your time, perhaps over dinner tonight? But anyway, get her to take commensurate care.
Yes.
Commensurate care.
Mm.
Well, congratulations, Mr Pryde, and enjoy your holiday.
I'm a father.
So am I, mate.
But I take it out on my kids, not public telephones.
Please let him be on that one.
Well, if it's going to land safely.
If it's going to do a pancake and they're squirting foam on the runway, let him be on the next one.
Oui? - Sandra! - Mum! Congratulations, darling! Father and I are thrilled.
Thrilled about what? Well, didn't Dr Blake tell you? In seven months' time, you're going to make me an incredibly young grandmother.
- D-D-D-Do you mean I'm going to be - Yes! You're pregnant! Pregnant? Oh! Oh, wait a minute Oliver doesn't want to be a father.
Oh, absolute nonsense.
He'll be cock-a-hoop when you tell him.
- Is he there? - No.
He'll want a boy, of course.
All fathers do the first time.
Yours was bitterly disappointed when we had to buy a pink layette.
Well, Oliver's just going to be plain bitter.
I don't know how to tell him, Mum.
It'll ruin his holiday.
- I've never heard such nonsense.
- He'll say it's all my fault.
Sandra, it takes two to tango.
No, I'm not going to tell him yet.
I'll find a way of breaking the news to him when we get home.
Hey, listen, Mum, I mean, what am I allowed to do? Can I swim? And can I eat and drink what I want? And Ah! Well, um, merci beaucoup, m'sieur.
Au' voir! Ça va! Tout à l'heure! Bon! Hello, darling.
- You found a French lover already? - What? Oh, no, no! That was the the, um, the manager.
He just rang to see if you'd arrived yet.
- What would he do if I hadn't? - Oh, darling! - Don't run! - What? I, I mean, well, the floor looks a bit slippery.
Yes, well, I must be careful No, I mustn't! - What? - Nothing.
You are clever.
- Clever? - Yes! Well, I mean, getting here.
Oh, that was nothing.
A couple of chaps sitting up front did most of the work.
- Oh, it's You were all right? - Yes, fine.
I've had a couple of these.
- Oh, uh, should you? - Yes! No.
You finish it.
Oh, right.
Ah.
Darling, wouldn't you like to sit down? Oh, no, I'm fine.
I was sitting on the plane.
Then I sat in a taxi, and when I got here I will sit down.
And you are all right? - Yes, fine.
- Good.
- How about you? - Me? Oh, I'm all right.
I'm only the fa-fa-farthest from the window.
- Sorry.
Would you like to go on the beach? - Oh, should I? - Oh, yes, should you? - Well, it's very hot out there.
Very hot.
Yes, better stay here and have another one of these.
- No.
- No.
No.
Well, what about a glass of milk, then? Oh, not milk.
It's not the same out here.
It tastes different.
- Oh.
Yes.
- Yes, the cows eat too much garlic.
No, you mustn't get up! I was only going on the balcony.
- Sitting? - Yes.
Oh, yes.
Right.
- Gosh.
- Ooh, the water looks lovely.
Yes.
Well, um, just look at it.
That's the best way.
Hey, look at that little fella.
- Where? - That little boy over there.
- Burnt absolutely black.
Isn't he terrific? - Oh, yes.
And look at that tiny little thing! Oh, it's a little girl! Hasn't got a stitch on.
Her mother's chasing after her.
- Oliver? - Yes? I thought you didn't like children.
What? Oh, I don't.
Well, yes, I mean I do Well, it depends, um, on the children.
Ours would be absolutely super.
Would be or will be? Oliver, has a little bird been talking to you? A big bird, actually.
A stork.
Darling! Dr Blake rang the airport.
Mum's just phoned me.
Are you pleased? - I am thrilled.
- Really? Well, the initial shock nearly killed me, but ever since, I've been looking at children.
At the airport, on the plane, on the beach.
- And? - Well, some of them look quite human.
Could you believe we could have a little boy like that, down there, with the suntan? I'm certain we could have a little girl running about without her knickers on.
Darling, I didn't think you'd take the news like this.
Well, it's No option, really, have I? A bit late to cancel our subscription.
You know what? I think you are going to make an absolutely wonderful father.
Yes, I think I will.
I think I will.
In fact, I think we've done very well, Mrs Pryde.
- Mm.
- Very well indeed.
A new flat, with more room, I'll be general manager by the time the school bills arrive and, um oh, yes, we're married.
Mm.
- You know, I can't think of a single snag.
- Mm.
They don't all do that, do they?