Inside No. 9 (2014) s08e01 Episode Script

1
HAUNTING MUSIC
DOOR OPENS
HAUNTING MUSIC CONTINUES
WIND HOWLS
DOOR CREAKS
Oh, excuse me.
I've just been draining a kidney.
You're Mr Parkway, I take it?
Er, Dr Parkway, yes.
You must be Mr Wilson?
Oh, call me Dick. Everyone does.
So have you ever been
champing before?
Sorry?
Champing — camping in a church.
That's what we call it.
Though it does have unfortunate
connotations of someone
eating with their mouth full.
Ah, no, I haven't, actually.
My wife booked this as a Christmas
present, but sadly, sh
As I'm sure you're aware,
it costs a pretty penny to preserve
these old buildings, and champing
is our biggest money-spinner.
We let them all in, every creed,
faith, culture -
as long as they pay
their overnight fees.
Speaking of which?
Oh, yes, sorry.
I only have a card, I'm afraid.
I've got my swiper.
HE CHUCKLES
As you see,
I've set up your bed here.
Some churches put a full-size
Queen Anne in the transept,
but speaking personally,
I don't think it's in fitting.
I said to Canon Berry man, I said,
"We're not an Airbnb."
"No, Dick", he said,
"we're a Prayer C of E!"
HE LAUGHS
85 and sharp as a blade.
Many's the time I've seen him
do a Wordle in two.
Ah, yes, um, I set up
a little lounge for you here,
with some literature on the history
of the place.
Fascinating. Did you know that
in the 15th century?
Uh, can I ask, um,
do you spend the night here also,
or will you eventually leave?
Oh, I'll soon be out of your hair,
don't worry.
I have to tell you that we've
never had a booking
on Christmas Eve before!
CARD READER BEEPS
Oh, thank you.
Your wife will be joining you later,
will she?
No, she passed away in the autumn.
I am so sorry.
So sorry — I've charged you
at a two person rate.
I'll void it and start again.
No, no, no. No, please.
I just want to spend
a peaceful night here
alone with my thoughts and memories.
Oh, I'm sure you won't be alone.
Merry Christmas, Dr Parkway.
And God bless us, every one.
SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC
Hello?
Hello?
DISTANT RATTLING
BAUBLE THUDS
SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC CONTINUES
HE GASPS
Mr Wilson
is that you?
DOOR OPENS
Oh, my God, it's freezing!
DOOR CLOSES
I told you it would be.
It's a bloody church,
what did you expect?
What did I expect
on Christmas Eve night?
Oh, I don't know, a Radisson.
Hey, I told you, don't blame me.
Holiday Inn, maybe.
Blame global warming.
Anyway, I asked that old bloke
to try and get us some booze.
Champers for the champers.
That should cheer you up a bit.
Hey, watch this.
Our lager which art in barrels,
hallowed be thy ale.
Thy kegdom come, I will be drunk,
at home, as in the tavern.
Give us this day our foamy head,
and forgive us our spillages,
as we forgive those
who spill against us.
Deliver us not into inebriation,
for thine is the stout,
the bitter, and the lager,
forever and ever, barmen!
HE LAUGHS
You're not funny, you know.
Course I am. Hey, do you want to see
my little white balls?
Ooh!
Oh, my Lord!
Not quite, I'm afraid.
He arrives in the morning.
You nearly give us a bloody heart
attack! Are you the vicar?
No, no, I'm Dr Parkway, Jasper,
and I'm afraid I have exclusive use
of this church till 10am tomorrow.
Use? I should explain — my mother
passed away earlier this year.
She's buried out in the graveyard.
I simply wanted to spend the night
here in quiet contemplation.
Oh, well, we booked it on
the website this morning.
That Dick, the man called Dick, he
said he hadn't seen our email yet.
I'm Pierce. This is my wife, Posy.
Like the flowers. Yeah, because when
her mam got pregnant with her,
the first thing she said was
"Thanks a bunch.”
Ignore him, he's pathetic.
I'm sorry about your mother.
We were supposed to be going to
Lapland yesterday,
only they rang up and said
there wasn't any snow.
How unfortunate.
Yeah. They said we could still go
and they'd put us up in a shed,
but we thought, well, if
it's not an igloo, what's the point?
Well, I hate to disappoint you
but as you can see,
there's only one bed set out.
Don't worry about that.
We've come prepared.
Sleeping bags at the ready.
We'll just set up here beside you.
Who wants a brew?
Oh, sorry.
WIND HOWLS
These biscuits are nice, Po.
Do you want one?
I don't think they're for us,
Pierce, they're like church wafers.
What do you mean?
It's the Eucharist.
The body of Christ.
Oh, shit!
Sorry! They taste like rich teas,
anyway.
The most boring of all biscuits.
Apart from them Nices which,
ironically enough, are horrible.
I'll go and see
if there's anything else.
There's got to be a kitchen
somewhere. Yeah.
Especially with all these
lady vicars now. Idiot.
HE CHUCKLES
CLEARS THROA
So, are you a religious man, then,
Jaz?
Not particularly, no.
It's the building itself
I'm most interested in.
Oh, right, you're more like
a history doctor, then,
Indiana Jones,
Da Vinci Code stuff?
You could say that, yes.
"Doctor, Doctor, I've got a chip up
my nose, a sausage in my left ear,
"a carrot in my right ear,
what's the matter with me?”
The doctor says,
"You're not eating properly.”
Tough crowd.
POSY SCREAMS
Oh, my good godfathers!
Who is it?
I don't know.
I just pulled back the curtain,
and he were there.
I thought it was Paul Hollywood.
You wouldn't want him
reaching out
and giving you an handshake,
would you?
It's St Nicholas.
The original Santa Claus.
You mean the Coca Cola one?
Uh, a little before that, I believe.
Patron Saint and protector
of children dating back
to around 300 AD,
possibly even earlier.
What's his origin story?
It's not X-Men, Pierce!
Actually, St Nick was an "Avenger"
in his own way.
Three small children
were said to be lost one night,
after straying too far from their
homes whilst playing in the woods.
As darkness fell,
they came across an old building
belonging to a butcher.
He offered them food
and shelter for the night,
and they eagerly accepted
his invitation.
However, once inside,
the butcher set upon the three boys,
slitting their throats one by one.
Bloody hell!
He then cut up the children's bodies
and laid the pieces
in a salting tub,
preserving their flesh to sell
as ham to the nearby villagers.
Seven years had passed when
Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra,
was riding in the woods
and came upon the house.
He demanded that the butcher open up
his barrels of salt.
When he saw the contents,
Nicholas performed a miracle,
restoring the three boys to life
and sending them home
to their astonished parents.
Lucky for them.
The myth also explains
why we now hang pickles
or gherkins as Christmas tree
decorations.
Oh, we've got one of them!
A big green one.
Posy calls it the Grinch's co
Pierce!
Yes, It's an unusual derivation,
the pickling or preserving
of children's bodies in salt
or vinegar. Mm.
Did you bring any crisps? I think
we've got some cheese puffs.
Oh, right.
SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee thy
Among the hills and daffodils
Do-do-ba-da-do-do-ba ♪
Would you be quiet, please?
Sorry?
Would you please stop singing?
I'm trying to work.
Oh, yeah.
Sorry.
I'm just getting in the mood.
I'm looking for somewhere nice
to hang my stocking
How about round your neck?
Pardon?
Uh, anywhere around the nave.
HE CHUCKLES
Have you not got one? I think I've
got a spare in here somewhere
HE SIGHS
They're a bit laddered
around the gusset,
but you could pop a tangerine in.
That's very kind.
Shall I just hang them on the end
of his bed? Yeah.
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee thy ♪
SINGING FADES
WET GURGLING
Is somebody there?
GURGLING CONTINUES
TIMBERS CREAK UNDER HIS WEIGH
BEAMS GROAN
TIMBERS CREAK
SCRAPING
CLUNKING
SCRAPING NEARBY
Hello?
Only me! Just wondered
if you might like to join us
for a little tot of Bristol Cream,
eh?
HE CHUCKLES
Christmas Eve.
The most magical night of the year.
I used to love it when was a kid.
You still are a bloody kid!
Do you have any children?
No.
No, we don't.
Still, um believe in Santa
though, don't we?
Well, you know, this church
has a unique link to St Nicholas,
hence the display.
Would you like to hear it?
It does involve a ghost.
Oh, now you're talking.
Hey, Doc, pull up a pew!
I'd rather not,
if it's all the same to you.
Oh, come on! A ghost story
for Christmas!? It's perfect.
I don't believe in ghosts,
and I've no interest in
made-up narratives about them.
I assure you, Doctor,
the events I'm about to recount
are not made up. I know that
for certain.
Well?
Seems like I don't have much choice,
do I?!
Thank you.
The body of St Nicholas,
like all the great saints,
was harvested for reliquaries
and devotionals.
Sorry, you've lost me already.
Relics are the bones or body parts
of venerated individuals,
often stolen from tombs
and sold all around the world.
They used to be a big business.
They still are.
What would you say
if I were to tell you
that the jawbone of St Nicholas
is hidden in this very building?
Is it?
I can tell you that
it has not yet been found,
but I have reason to believe
that it resides here somewhere.
And why do you believe that?
Because of what I saw
with my own eyes,
five years ago on Christmas Eve.
Here we go.
Hold my hand, Pierce.
I'd extinguished the last of
the candles, and I was leaving
with just the light from my
phone screen to see me out.
HE CLICKS FINGERS
Why didn't you turn your torch on?
I didn't know it had one.
HE CLICKS FINGERS
Carry on.
I was standing over there
by the pulpit,
and I heard a noise
by the Christmas tree.
I genuinely thought,
"I've really got to be careful here
"because I might end up
locking someone up in the church
"and they might freeze to death."
We had that in the school
where I clean.
A homeless man was living in
the gym equipment cupboard,
sleeping in the vaulting box.
The deputy head had to coax him out
with a boneless banquet from KFC,
and the Sally Army came for him.
Have you quite finished?
Sorry.
I walked over
to the Christmas tree
and that's when I saw him
peeping out
from behind the branches.
A figure in a dark red cloak.
His head bowed.
I kept perfectly still
but I wasn't expecting what I saw.
His head slowly lifted up.
It was so
sad.
An old man, with kind eyes,
but such pain behind them.
And below this tender,
imploring face
there was no bottom jaw.
Just a black lolling tongue,
dangling down into the space below.
It moaned and clacked,
then it started to come towards me.
That's when I ran.
I ran and ran
and didn't stop till I got home,
and I locked the door behind me.
The next day, Christmas Day
when I came back
there were footprints.
Black, filthy
footprints all around the church.
I believe that his restless spirit
roams around this site,
longing to be whole again,
and finally be at peace.
ALARM BEEPS
Right, I'd better be off.
HE LAUGHS AND CLAPS
That was brilliant! I bet that
shit you up, didn't it, Doc?!
Now do you believe in ghosts?
Of course not.
We are pattern-finding creatures,
and we rationalise what we don't
understand with ridiculous stories.
Now if you don't mind,
I'd like to spend the rest
of the evening in my own company.
Is that sherry free?
HE GRUNTS QUIETLY
HE SNORES QUIETLY
You all right, Po?
Yeah.
Are you thinking about Paisley?
I lit a candle for her.
Aw
that's nice.
Be 18 years next Christmas.
I'll book Lapland again.
That'd be nice.
I didn't like Dick's story.
Do you believe him?
No, course not.
Just his party piece.
He'll have one for every season.
Be a giant rabbit at Easter,
witch at Halloween.
What's summer?
Er beach ghost.
It's just a bloke with trunks on
wandering about with
a bright red face.
A bottle of sunblock.
Yeah, probably.
Why, did it spook you?
A little bit.
It's just
that night, when I was pregnant
and I had the accident
something happened
that I never told you.
That night
you saw a ghost?
Not really. I was just mopping
the floor in reception
when I saw my mother walk past.
I thought,
"Well, what's she doing here?"
I waved at her,
but she didn't say anything,
just stared at me.
Then, suddenly, she put her hand up
on the glass and started to cry.
Mascara running down her face
in black lines.
Then she turned and went off again.
I went to look for her,
but there was no-one there.
That's weird. Anyway, as I was
walking home, I tried phoning her,
and it was as I was dialling
that the motorbike
came off the road and
Bloody hell.
A few days later, when I was in the
hospital, she came to visit me,
and she told me that that night,
the night of the accident,
she'd had an awful feeling
something bad was going
to happen to me.
I didn't tell her what I'd seen,
then as she was leaving,
she put her hand up on the glass,
and started to cry.
Mascara running down her face
in black lines.
My God.
It wasn't a ghost.
It was a warning.
PHONE RINGS
What's that?
Must be one of them
new—fangled machines
that let you talk to each other
through the air.
Come on.
Hey! Don't leave me!
Pierce!
Don't answer it.
Hello?
It's for you.
Yes?
Boo!
SHE SHRIEKS, HE LAUGHS
You bloody idiot, what are you
playing at?! Who was it?
No-one, they hung up.
Must have been a wrong number.
Come on, it's freezing in here.
HE CHUCKLES
Hey, we forgot to
check our stockings.
Let's see if Santa's been.
What's on your list?
Socks and undies, obviously.
Yeah, obviously.
Handkerchiefs with a P on which'll
never come out of the packet.
Selection box, they're
not as big as they used to be.
All right, Peter Kay!
It's true! What about you?
Um, bath salts?
Um, chocolates full of
some disgusting liqueur.
Oh, and a shit scented candle.
Shit—scented? How do they do that?
You don't want to know.
HE CHUCKLES
WET GURGLING
SHE SCREAMS
Oh, bloody hell!
CHOKING GURGLES
DOOR SLAMS
FABRIC RIPS
Thought they'd never fucking leave.
Ho, ho
ho.
Dr Parkway!
Shit!
Dr Parkway, are you there?
I had a phone call from Pierce.
He says he saw something
rather disturbing.
Dr Parkway?
BAUBLE FALLS AND THUDS ON FLOOR
PHONE RINGS
Hello?
Hello?
Doctor? Doctor?
I'm ever so sorry if I frightened
you with what I said earlier.
It was just a story.
There is no ghost here,
I can assure you of that!
Ghosts aren't real!
It wasn't a ghost.
Hello?
It was a warning.
CRASHING, HE CHOKES
WET GURGLING
BAUBLE THUDS
GUST OF AIR
GURGLING
HINGES CREAK
WET GURGLING
Is somebody there?
CLUNKING
SCRAPING
Hello?
CLUNKING, BELL VIBRATES
SCRAPING
Oh, no!
Well, I never!
Merry Christmas.
Ding dong! Merrily on high
In heav'n the bells are ringing
Glo—o—o—o—oria
Hosanna in excelsis
Glo—o—o—o—oria
Glo—o—o—o—oria
Glo—o—o—o—oria
Hosanna in excelsis. ♪