Birds of a Feather (1989) s12e07 Episode Script

- Where you been? - Sitting in the garden.
Mum, it's gone 11:00 and it's freezing.
- I know, it was bloody lovely.
- Another hot flush? - Yeah.
- (DOOR SLAMS) - Good evening, Chigwell! Oh no.
I'm not in the mood for this.
Hello, everybody! - Guess where I went tonight? - Royal Opera House? Was it the hat what gave it away? No, I went out with some of the girls from the bookies.
It was meant to be a quiet one but we ended up having a major sesh.
You OK? Fine.
You sure? Only you're just about to put piccalilli in your Nutella sandwich.
- You worried about your A-Levels? - I suppose so.
Well, just remember the three golden rules - - Yeah, revise, revise, revise.
- Close.
Cheat, cheat, cheat.
When I passed my RE exam I had the names of all the disciples written into my knickers.
I can still remember them, erm, John, Judas, Andrew, Bartholomew, Napoleon, Mussolini I always do that! I had history on the same day.
Just remember, big pants, permanent marker and it'll be A-stars all the way.
Night, night.
Auntie Shal, it's not just my exams.
OK Is there a pregnant lady somewhere claiming you're the daddy? - No.
- Well, then nothing you can say will faze me.
I've been suspended from school for possession of cannabis.
Except that.
- Look, I didn't smoke it.
- Yeah, you and me both, mate.
No, I didn't! Look, this mug in my year, Gibbons, he's always bringing it in.
He gave a spliff to a year nine, so I took it off him.
Just as a teacher came round the corner.
- It's true.
I swear! - Why didn't you just explain? No one was interested.
We've got a new head of year, Miss Howe, she's fierce.
She suspended me straight away.
She wants to see me and Mum in her office tomorrow morning.
- Ooh, blimey.
Tracey'll go mental.
- Exactly.
She's all over the place since the doctor took her off that HRT.
I've got five words for you Run away from home now? Does she need to know? Look, you said this Miss Howe is new, has she ever met your mum? - No.
- Well, then, no worries! I'll go with you, pretend to be Tracey and we'll sort it all out.
- You sure we can get away with it? - As sure as tomorrow is Tuesday.
It's Thursday.
Yeah, well, I'm a bit Brahms, ain't I? (INHALES DEEPLY) The hits on my agony webcast have gone through the roof, there's talk of a bonus.
Thank God there are so many pathetic people in the world.
Doesn't it bother you, that you are cashing in on other people's misery? Er, no.
- Are you looking for something? - No I'm having another hot flush! Well, will you be long? There's a jar of foie gras in there that demands constant temperature.
Stuff the foie gras, I feel like my head's gonna explode! Bloody menopause, I hate it! I'm having hot flushes, night sweats, and my moods are all over the place.
You reckon you're such a brilliant agony aunt, give me some advice.
Sorry, don't do menopause.
What do you mean you don't do it? You can't avoid it.
I have.
I've never stopped taking my HRT.
- Isn't that a bit risky? - Not as risky as me not taking it.
But you don't know what's in it.
I've heard some of them are made from pregnant horses' urine.
I don't care if it's made from the pureed excrement of rabid pigs.
As long as it stops certain areas of my anatomy from drying up like the Sahara.
- How did Sharon cope? - She didn't have to.
Lucky cow had a bit of a sweat, a ten-minute headache and hers was all over.
Well, have you tried evening primrose or black cohosh? I've tried all that herbal stuff.
Don't you listen to what I say? Perhaps not as much as I should.
I've even tried shoving magnets in my knickers.
- Did it work? - No.
Just meant I was stuck to the washing machine for half hour.
Look, maybe I can help.
Dwelling on this is not going to do you any good, you need bringing out of yourself.
You know what I do when I start to feel low? I'm not bonking the milkman.
Retail therapy.
And I'm not dragging my arse around the shopping centre either.
Oh, this is the 21st Century, Tracey.
You can sit with a big tub of mint choc chip ice cream and max out your credit cards from the comfort of your sofa.
(SIGHS) Stop biting your nails.
You were saying Mum? Sounds funny, someone calling me that.
Do you think I would have made a good mum? - From a kid's point of view.
- Yeah.
You would've been a laugh.
Yeah, that's what I reckon.
Oh, well, the fact that I'm not means there's a social worker somewhere with a much easier caseload.
You're sure this is gonna work, aren't you? I'll just go in there with the old charm offensive.
Just do the charm, hey? And you'll just get a slap on the wrist Hopefully.
Hopefully? You were full of it last night.
I was full of lager last night.
Thank you, Lorraine, I'm glad we got that sorted.
Don't worry.
You can leave it to me.
- That was Gibbons' dad.
- Oh, good.
Well, at least that means that Gibbons is getting a slap on the wrist an' all.
- Stubbs, Mrs Stubbs, two minutes.
- POSH ACCENT: Righty-ho.
- I see what you mean about her being a bit fierce.
- 'Righty-ho?' What? That's my grown-up voice.
I've all the latest fashion mags from Vanity Fair to La Redoute.
There's bound to be something you can buy to raise your spirits.
- What do you fancy? - Nothing.
- OK.
What do you need? - Nothing.
Even if I did find something I liked it wouldn't fit me.
These days they only make things for six-foot skinny minnies with no knockers.
Tracey, you've got to shake off this despondent attitude.
It's my hormones! Bit of poxy shopping's not going to fix it! And they need to go back in the freezer.
- Oh, what about this? - I'm not wearing that, I'd look like mutton.
Well, I'd wear it and I'm a few years older than you.
Yeah, and you'd look like mutton! What's the look for? I'm always saying you look like mutton.
Yes, but normally you say it with a bantery, jocular edge.
Well, I'm not in a bantery, jocular mood! When's that gonna sink in? - Well, I believe you're as young as you feel.
- You really think that? If life was a race then I'm well past the halfway mark.
And you, you could come around that next bend and see the chequered flag waving in front of you.
We're done.
Old news.
Yesterday's chip paper.
The only thing we've got to look forward to, is losing our marbles and needing someone to wipe our jacksy.
Are you gonna open that ice cream or not? Actually, I'm going to go to my room, play some Leonard Cohen and put the Samaritans on speed dial.
POSH ACCENT: Hi, Lorraine, I'm Sharon Tracey.
Sharon-Tracey.
My mum loved a Christian name.
Let's stick to Miss Howe and Mrs Stubbs, shall we? Oh, OK.
I'm sorry you have to be here under these circumstances.
All part of having kids, isn't it? I wouldn't know.
I'm surrounded by hundreds of the little monsters all day, I'd have to be some sort of masochist to want to go home to my own.
Now, Mrs Stubbs, I have to emphasise we take a very dim view of drugs.
Oh, so do we.
Especially as we are a very religious family.
I mean, wherever those drugs came from, they had nothing to do with Travis.
The only joints you'll find at our house, are from the meat counter at Aldi.
I mean Waitrose.
- Mrs Stubbs - I can name all of Jesus' disciples, you know.
- (CHUCKLES) Andrew, Bartholomew - - Mrs Stubbs - Napoleon, Mussolini - - Mrs Stubbs! If Travis didn't bring the drugs in, who did? Oh, we don't grass in our family.
It's our 11th commandment.
- Well, that attitude doesn't surprise me.
- Excuse me? Your husband was a professional criminal.
RESUMES NORMAL ACCENT: No, he weren't, he was crap at it.
POSH ACCENT: Look, Travis' daddy may have been a bit of a rascal, but he's been brought up to know right from wrong, and respect the filth - Old Bill Boys in blue.
- The problem is another boy has already named Travis as supplier.
Who? Jason Gibbons.
- No, it was him.
He's setting me up, Miss.
- I'm sorry, Travis, but you and your mother's evasive attitude suggest otherwise.
In my experience, the apple never falls very far from the tree.
NORMAL ACCENT: You snotty cow! Sit there, judging us, with your skirt halfway up your backside.
You wanna be ashamed of yourself.
What sort of teacher comes to work dressed like that? A sports teacher.
Yeah, well never mind that.
You keep your aspersions to yourself.
Just give him a slap on the wrist and we'll be on our way.
You might scare the kids, but you don't scare me.
Sit! There is no question of Travis getting off with a slap on the wrist.
I'm afraid we have no option but to permanently exclude him.
Oh, well At least they ain't expelled you.
It's the same thing! - Look, we're gonna have to tell Mum.
- I see that as a last resort.
They may have expelled you, but they can't stop you taking your actual A-Levels.
Just carry on getting notes from your mates and take the exam.
And once again, Tracey is none the wiser - - But the school? - Schtum! - What's going on? - Nothing.
I need cheering up.
Tell me about your day, Travis? There's not much to tell.
And you said I was past it, Tracey.
Well, if you get out of breath just carrying a bottle of milk I have just done an hour-long spinning class, a full-on 90-minute workout, and just ran three miles home from the shop.
According to my personal trainer, I have the heart, lungs and insanely firm buttocks of a woman half my age.
- So what do you say to that, Tracey? - Nothing.
I didn't mean it, it was my hormones talking.
You mean I have put myself through this purgatory for nothing? (PHONE ALERT PINGS) Oh, I've had an email from the school.
Confirming a meeting I had with a Miss Howe at which my son got expelled for supplying drugs! News to us.
Hey, Trav? Give it up, Auntie Shal.
Look, Mum, I took a spliff away from a year 9, got caught with it, got suspended.
Sharon came to the meeting with my head of year, pretended to be you.
The kid who brought it in lied, said I was the supplier, so I got expelled.
Don't seem so bad when you say it quickly.
Unbelievable! It really is impossible to underestimate you, Sharon.
You got expelled! How can you be so stupid?! - It wasn't his fault.
- You're in it up to your neck an' all, ain't you? I only did it because of how you've been lately.
I didn't want you getting all stressed.
Oh, well, it's worked like a charm, hasn't it? I feel suicidal now.
Why did you go to her, of all people?! You should have come to me, cos you and I do have a special bond.
- No! He should have come to me! - You're right, Mum.
I'm sorry.
Are you really that scared of me? No? Look, I'm sorry, love.
I only did it cos I care so much.
- Aww.
- Don't even think about it! Right, if we want to get justice for Travis, we have to be as sneaky and as underhand as that boy Gibbons.
- Go on - Well, no, I haven't actually thought of anything.
- Oh, for - Why are you looking like that? I bet you made it ten times worse by having a go at his teacher.
She had a go at me first.
Look, none of this is gonna do any good.
It's my word against Gibbons'.
They're always going to believe him because of his dad and not believe me, because of mine.
- What makes his dad so special? - He's Michael Gibbons, Chairman of the School Governors.
And him and Miss Howe are doing it.
And you didn't think to mention that before? I didn't know it was going to be relevant.
Well, that proves I didn't make it worse.
They were ready to throw Travis under the bus before we even got in there.
I think you owe me an apology, Tracey.
Don't hold your breath.
Michael Gibbons, Michael Gibbons, that name rings a bell.
- Short, balding? - That's right.
Yeah, it's not just Miss Howe that he is enjoying extra-curricular activities with, he has slept with half the women at the tennis club.
His nickname is 'New Balls'.
No, Sharon, I haven't.
One of his easier conquests was Melanie Fishman, and I refuse to touch any man that that woman's dropped her serve for.
So why are they so interested in him? He's a right little weasel.
He owns a string of chiropodists, 'Hold the Bunions'.
Money and free treatment for fallen arches is a powerful aphrodisiac.
Is there a Mrs Gibbons? Yeah, poor mouse doesn't know what a rat she's married to.
Then it's about time someone threatened to put her straight.
It's usually me that comes up with dirty tricks like that, Trace.
When it comes to my kids, the gloves are off.
We get evidence of him playing about and say we'll tell his wife if he doesn't get Travis reinstated.
A honeytrap! Who's gonna be the honey? Do you really need to ask that question, Sharon? No, he says, the cat's a ventriloquist.
(LAUGHS) So, that's Gibbons.
He looks like a right plonker.
- She's had worse.
- How do I look? Easier than a kid's crossword.
This won't take long, doesn't normally.
A husky hello usually gets them hooked, but in the unlikely event that the sap fails to rise then a bit of heavy flirting never fails.
Thanks, sweetheart.
HUSKY VOICE: Hello.
- You're Michael Gibbons, I'm - I know who you are, the infamous Dorien Green.
We've often moved in the same circles, but we've never actually connected.
I thought it was time we did.
Trouble with verucas? That's not the sort of treatment I had in mind.
- Oh, I see.
- (CHUCKLES) Everything I've heard about you is true then.
Everything And more.
Sorry.
As we say around here, you just don't tighten my racket.
Sorry? When it comes to you, Ms Green, there are two sorts of men in Chigwell Those that have and those that haven't.
I prefer to stay in the small but ever-diminishing band, of those that have not.
Pardon? You're not my type, love.
I'm everybody's type! That was quick.
You struck out, didn't you? You are past it, after all.
No.
I'm not past it! Maybe he's had an epiphany, come out of the closet.
Well, if he has he's gone back in and locked the door.
Look at the way he's chatting that blonde barmaid up.
He likes blondes! Travis' teacher was blonde.
And Melanie Fishman sports a cheap, peroxide rinse.
That's it, he prefers blondes.
I'm not past it, oh, thank God! - Right, well, I better give him a go then.
- No, you won't! You're not blonde, you're mousey with highlights.
- This is blonde.
I'll do it.
- You? Travis is my son.
You've cocked up enough already.
Do you need a few tips? I know you like to think you invented it, but I do know how to chat a bloke up.
Oh, sorry.
Really, no need to apolgise.
You've spilled your drink, let me get you another.
My mum told me never to accept a drink from a stranger.
Easily remedied.
Mike Gibbons.
- I haven't seen you around the club before.
- I'm Tracey, and I'm thinking of joining.
- Oh, you should.
We could always do with more pretty girls.
Have you been playing tennis for long? No, but I've had a few lessons.
My instructor reckons I've got the best forehand grip he's ever seen.
Really.
Take the camera.
He's going to lay his grubby little paws on her any minute now.
- I like you, Tracey.
- Oh, I like you, too.
I've always had a thing for short, fat blokes.
I think I'd say stocky.
I'm not one for mincing my words.
We're not kids, are we? Certainly not.
Oh, look at the way the light shines on your pointy, bald head.
So, you ready for a knock up or what? Yes, yes.
Absolutely! A friend of mine runs a little, boutique hotel, only 20 minutes' drive away, you can show me that forehand grip.
That's just what I wanted to hear you say.
- Advantage Gibbons! - Yeah.
- Busted! - (CAMERA CLICKS) - What's going on? We're exposing you, for the two-timing rat that you are.
You had your finger over the lens! Don't worry, I've still got this.
PHONE RECORDING: 'Friend of mine runs a little boutique hotel, only 20 minutes' drive away, you can show me that forehand grip.
' So, either we play that to your poor, unsuspecting wife And tell her about all your other little bits on the side, including Miss Howe.
Or you see to it that Travis Stubbs gets reinstated at his school.
Choice is yours, baldy! (ELECTRIC FAN BUZZING) I still don't understand why Wills and Kate called their little girl Charlotte.
It's not very royal, is it? So what names would you consider to be royal then? Well, not Sharon, for a start.
Elizabeth, obviously, Victoria, Mary, Amber Amber? There's never been a queen named Amber.
Yes, there was - 'Amber Lynne'.
Look, I might be menopausal, but I'm not stupid.
- Alright, Mum.
- How did it go? - Sorted.
Miss Howe reinstated me.
- Oh, that's brilliant! So why ain't you jumping up and down for joy? A couple of mates and I decided to celebrate.
The headmaster caught us round the back of the science block with a bottle of vodka.
- Oh, Travis! (LAUGHS) It's a joke.
Not a very good one, as it turns out.
It's my hormones.
I don't need any more surprises.
Get your coats on, girls! I want to find out if gentlemen really do prefer blondes!