Skips are nothing to do with age!
- Hello. - Morning.
Me first!
- Bye. - Argh!
- What about me? - All right.
Whoa!
Dear Vic, I agree.
That Vanessa Chatsworth story is very odd.
You can't suddenly decide you're Australian.
It's not a religion, is it? You can't convert.
If she wants to pull it off, she's going to have to move to
a town where nobody was at primary school with her.
I wonder if it's a form of mental illness?
- Are you locked out? - Sorry?
Oh! No.
The boys are just having a little mess-about in the skip.
The news from London is that I seem to have met someone.
Although I'm not sure I like him much.
I regret to inform you that are no boys in the skip.
- Oh, shit. - Are you supposed to be looking after them? - I'm their nanny.
What else are you good at? You're going to need a new job.
- Please, listen. Please listen. - Boys!
I'm sure our readers...
Shh!
Look, please listen.
No, I'm sure our readers are fascinated by a quarrel
between Sir Philip Sidney and Edward de Vere.
But 12,000 words, Nick?
Honestly, people have lives, they have families. They've got jobs.
- They're got televisions. - Boys?
Shh!
Hmm?
Well, I do, yes, actually. Grange Hill.
Question Of Sport, Match Of The Day.
Bergerac, Rockford Files.
Maybe you should watch Rockford Files, might help you with your word count.
- Boys? - Hang on, one second, sorry.
Stibbe, is everything all right?
Yes. Completely fine.
All right.
Sorry, where were we? Hmm?
- Yeah, but they got lucky. - Nunney, what team do you support?
Man U, of course. What's yours?
Arsenal, we're going to win the league this year.
- No, you're rubbish. - They're better than Spurs.
You've got Lee Chapman in attack, how can you win the league with him?
- We wouldn't have bought him if it wasn't any good. - Where were you? - In the skip. - No, you weren't.
You just didn't look hard enough.
- You went to the shop for sweets. - We were bored.
You just sat there reading.
Only because you were in the skip.
Must be an extremely good book.
It is, actually.
I presume you just got to the good bit,
that's why you lost track of the boys?
And what would you call the good bit?
The goldfish.
- Can I read it after you? - Not suitable.
- The book about a talking goldfish? - Who says he talks? - I just presumed.
He can't talk. Not where he's going.
- At least, there'd be trouble if he did. - Will you stop it?
- Oh, my God. - Now look what you've done.
What?
Ugh!
- So, what's a proper girl like you doing reading a book like that for, anyway? - That's disgusting!
- What should I be reading? - I think you could probably manage Austen.
I've already managed Austen, thank you very much.
Or Hardy. I could lend you some.
All right, thanks.
It better be as good as this one.
- Shit. - They've gone home.
See you.
His name is Nunney.
And he's handsome, and I think he's probably clever.
He has clever hair, if you know what I mean. University hair, I call it.
He's not at university, but he's applying.
So, pros -- one, clever.
Two, good-looking.
Three, convenient -- works in the street.
Cons -- don't know whether I actually like him.
Pros win, 3-1.
- Is George not eating with us? - She's going out on a date.
- With Floppy. - Floppy?
That's what they call David, because of the hair.
- Are you going out on a date with David? - Yep.
David Moore?
- Yep. - Floppy.
I thought you didn't like David Moore very much?
Can you pass the coleslaw there, please, Max?
Are those tinned mandarins?
They are, aren't they? Dear God.
I want to know why George is going on a date
with someone she's not very keen on?
Yes, I'd be wanting to change the subject too, if I were you, too.
Trying to remember. Seemed like a good idea when he asked me.
You often have floppy hair if you go to university, don't you?
- Oh, I see. - What?
David Moore hasn't been to university for a while.
And also, Nina, salad cream?!
What's wrong with the salad cream now?
You sound like Mrs Thatcher.
Boo!
Max, what do you see?
What do I see?
My turn, he took too long!
Stibbe's coleslaw, Stibbe, plates, cutlery!
No, before, you said, "I see"? When Nina was asking you about
- what kind of hair people had at university? - Oh.
- Nina likes the look of Nunney. - Oh!
- That's exciting. - I did NOT look the like of him.
Like the look of him.
He looked after us when Nina left us in the skip.
I did not leave you in the skip, and you climbed out without telling me.
You were in Ursula Vaughan Williams' skip?
Who's Ursula Whatsit's Whatsit?
Ralph's widow.
Who's Ralph?
Ralph Vaughan Williams.
The composer?
There was a composer called Ralph?
Why were they in the skip in the first place?
- They wanted to go in there. - Right, and that's what I pay you for?
To execute their every ridiculous whim?
It wasn't my finest hour as a nanny.
What would you say has been, so far, as a matter of interest?
Hmm...
Hmm?
Don't anyone call him Floppy.
All right, I'm coming!
Hi.
I liked your piece in the Literary Observer
about Graham Greene's entertainment.
That wasn't me.
Oh, I thought it was.
No.
Are you sure?
(Oh, God.)
See you later.
Get in there, Floppy!
Romantically speaking,
I've always ruled out the people I couldn't really stand.
But George seemed to quite enjoy her evening with Floppy.
Even though he irritated the hell out of her.
She even said she might do it again.
Shut up!
You keep hitting me, I'm going to deport you!
So maybe I should keep an open mind
and not rule anything out at this stage.
Do you mind me asking if you regret any of them?
Yes.
Sorry, my fault for imprecise phrasing.
Yes, you mind me asking, or yes, you regret them?
Both.
Oh. It's just...
I look after a couple of young lads, and you know what they're like.
What advice would you give them?
Don't be a butcher.
I meant in the tattoo arena.
- You actually going to buy anything? - Yes.
Five lamb chops, please.
Stick to football teams and parents.
- Are you talking about tattoos or life? - Both.
Oh.
Can't you remove it?
- She'd notice. - I'm guessing that matters?
- Wife. - Oh.
So you're still together, at least?
Unless it's only because of the tattoo.
Stuck with it all now, aren't I?
I presume you liked her when you married her?
She was pregnant when I married her.
Well, I presume you liked her a couple of months before that?
- How old are you? - 20.
Yeah, like I thought -- old enough to know better.
I like her, she likes me, what's liking got to do with anything?
£1.68, please.
- There's two there. - Thank you.
Thank you.
Who's next? Hello, mate.
When was the last time you had an episode, Joey?
- He doesn't really like being called Joey. - Sorry.
When was the last crisis, Joe?
The day of the European Cup Final.
I wasn't allowed to watch, so I had to sit in the dark,
- listening to the radio. - I'm not a football fan, I'm afraid.
About ten days ago.
Do you know anyone called Marigold?
Erm, no. Don't think I do.
Funny, isn't it? My parents knew dozens of Marigolds.
Every other middle-aged woman who came to tea
seemed to be called Marigold.
- Do you want some tea, Marigolds? - Thank you, Marigold.
Would you like a scone, Marigold?
Gone for ever, do you think? The name, not middle-aged women.
I don't know, really.
Would you call your daughter Marigold?
- If you paid me a lot of money. - Good grief, no money involved!
I'm not mad. Out of your own free will.
How are my eyes?
I take it that's a no. What about Violet? Another one.
How are his eyes?
No significant deterioration.
Coat.
One piece of advice.
If you want to take someone's photograph --
a portrait, not a snap -- get them standing on a staircase,
and then ask them to focus just above the camera.
Thank you.
We'll remember that.
Right, come on.
Here comes Skippy.
Is he saying that because of the skip incident?
I think so.
And because there was a kangaroo on television called Skippy.
- Weak. - Yeah, I thought so.
Bit of a sense of humour failure?
No. No, not really.
We're just not laughing at something which isn't funny.
If one of us looked like or was actually a kangaroo,
then, yes, hilarious.
We don't, really, do we?
So all you've done is put a Y on the end of the word skip.
That would be sky-pee.
You need the double P to keep the vowel short.
Thank you.
What's the university bit? Is it the stuff on top?
We'll talk about it later.
The university bit of what? Me?
Stibbe thinks you have university hair.
University's a bad thing, presumably?
Like shoes.
I'm not against university, per se.
Ooh, how very broad-minded of you.
- Could we get on with it? - Sorry, Ray.
No, he hasn't called for us. Get on with THIS.
- What's this? - I don't want to have to go through all this
whenever we bump into her.
Your hair, her feet, blah, blah, blah.
It'll take forever at this rate.
Ask her out!
Would you like to go to the pub, Nunney?
Like Ray says, we should probably get it out of the way.
Yeah.
- Erm... - I'll...
- Yes. - Yeah. - Bye. - Bye.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
Wow, this really is a date.
Dirty plimsolls, that's your equivalent of cleavage.
Do you think I've made too much effort?
No.
You made an effort for Floppy.
I didn't make an effort FOR Floppy. I just made an effort.
What's the difference?
Well, sometimes -- once every five years -- it's nice for me
to feel like I have a life which doesn't revolve around the boys
or Game For A bloody Laugh.
I don't know why you like Game For A Laugh.
- I don't. - No?
Hang on, so, when you laugh during Game For A Laugh...
- that's canned laughter, is it? - Canned?
You know, when people force it out,
just to show that they're having fun.
But that isn't what canned means. Canned laughter is...
Anyway, you're getting off the point. You're very good at that.
The point is, is that sometimes
it's nice to be reminded that one is a woman.
Well, that's not why I'm wearing shoes.
I don't think Nunney's going to get the wrong idea.
I'd rather be in watching Bergerac with the boys.
Oh, it's not Bergerac tonight, is it? Shit.
Got this whole piece to edit.
What do you think of Nunney?
I hadn't realised you were marrying this evening.
I thought it was a quick drink in the local.
Yes, but if it goes well tonight,
then we'll have to go to the cinema or something next week.
- And then... - I know, and on and on it goes.
Just remember, it all gets a bit murky if sex is involved.
Murky?
Mmm, there are implications.
You might become a mate.
But if you sleep with him, it doesn't work out, it can be awkward.
You see him 20 times a day.
God.
I think I'm going to call him and tell him I'm poorly.
Actually, would you do it?
Go on.
- Ugh... - Have fun. - Thank you.
I was going to pop in and say hello to the boys.
No point in dragging it out.
Get in there, Nunney!
So, what would you like?
I usually drink white wine, but this doesn't look like
the sort of place the white wine would be very nice.
Don't mind me, eh?
Sorry. I'll have a glass of white wine, please.
Erm...
I've changed my mind. Can I have a gin and tonic, please? With ice.
We ain't got any ice.
Right. That's OK.
- You, mate? - Pint, please.
Got any hobbies?
What?
Oh, sorry. No.
Do you?
No, not really.
Some people do. My mum, my auntie Joy.
Well, erm...
what are their hobbies, then?
My auntie Joy, she collect these...
Before we carry on, I just want to check --
is this what you'd enjoy talking about?
Well, I don't know what I'd enjoy talking about
until I'm talking about it, so...
I was just trying to get things started.
What do you want to talk about?
You... you can't just set a timetable, can you?
If it's not happening naturally, perhaps you need a framework.
Have you designed one?
Or have you got a template from previous hopeless nights out?
This isn't hopeless yet, is it?
No.
Not literally beyond hope.
- What does that mean? - Well...
- you're quite tricky. - Tricky?
Me?
Not you?
Well, you were rude about my Skippy joke.
And then there was all that university hair business.
I didn't think you liked me very much.
Well, that's what tonight's about, isn't it?
- Is it? - Yeah.
Going for a drink with someone, you're trying to make your mind up.
Yeah, hasn't there got to be a bit of goodwill in the first place?
Just to get you out the door.
It's like going to the pictures -- you might not end up liking
the film, but something made you want to buy a ticket.
I'll watch any old rubbish.
Ha-ha!
And look, there we go!
Oh, no!
I knew it!
You're joking!
OK.
So, I'm going to start with a question,
and we'll see where it takes us.
All right.
Why are you a nanny?
- Why are you a Nunney? - My name's Mark Nunn.
Mine's Nina Nann.
- One N or two? - Two, otherwise I'd be a nay-nee.
- So you allowed your surname to dictate your career? - Yes.
- What should I be? - Well, you don't look like a nanny.
- What do nannies look like? - They wear shoes.
And they don't put children in skips.
Why aren't you at college, then?
Haven't been to school for a long time.
- How old are you, then? - 20.
Sort of left when I was about 14 or 15.
How can you sort of leave school?
Got an after-school job, and they asked me to work during the day.
So I did.
And it turns out you can't do a full-time job and get O-levels.
So...
- Did you hate school? - No. No.
English was all right. And drama.
- And I still read, and I write, too. - Ah, writing!
You see, I knew there'd be something.
- Cos you're convinced I'm clever? - No.
About you not being very good at nannying.
Hello!
Do you like him?
No, not really.
Good girl.
"Not really"?
Private joke.
- Isn't that the butcher? - We get on.
Oh, right, well, go out with him, then.
Dear Vic, how bad was your first date with Dave Adams,
on a scale of one to ten?
With ten representing maximum unenjoyability?
I know it didn't go well,
so we can forget about one through seven, presumably.
But you stuck at it for a year at least.
That's what I'm interested in.
Please expand at length, I'd find it very helpful.
As for things here...
It's been a very exciting week.
Ha!
Max, don't just chuck it in there.
How else we supposed to get it in?
God, this is an absolutely ridiculous idea.
- Wish you'd never talked me into it. - It'll be fine.
She doesn't need the whole skip.
And it'd be great to get rid of all this.
Right, erm...
Yes, I think one of us will have to climb in, lower it down.
I haven't got any shoes on.
Well, we'd never do anything if we had to wait for you to be shod.
- It won't take a moment, go on. - I'm absolutely not climbing in there.
I have to live in this street forever,
you'll be moving out one day.
Right.
I'll do it then.
I'll get in the skip.
Oh, shit!
Right, boys. Give your mum a hand.
Yep.
Hup.
- Got it? - Think so.
Yep.
What on Earth...?
Oh, shit!
I'm coming down.
(She's coming down, quickly.)
Help.
Bastards!
- Whose stuff is that? - Erm...
It belongs to Malcolm Tanner, the writer. Do you know him?
Why is Mr Tanner putting stuff in my skip?
We know what people are like with skips,
- they can't resist putting stuff in, taking it out. - But it isn't his.
I know. I told him.
Who are you, what are you doing in there?
Could I just say that I love Eric's compositions?
Eric?
Wasn't that his name?
If you are referring to my late husband, then no.
His name was Ralph.
Rafe...
Some people do refer to him as Ralph.
That's it! I knew it was something like that...
I need you out of that at once.
I still haven't decided whether to call the police or not.
I don't think we need to get the police involved, do we?
I mean, they're very busy.
She's obsessed with that skip.
I think Skippy's quite a good name for her, actually.
Do you know this young woman?
Get out.
Why's she not back yet?
'Now, Bill, for your team, we've a bird-watcher.'
Oh, hell, bird-watching. I don't know any bird-watchers.
It's not even a sport, bird-watching.
Boys, we have this every week.
He's not a bird-watcher, they're trying to fool you.
- He is a bird-watcher, look. - See, bird-watching.
No, he's bird-watching for the programme --
- he's not a full-time bird-watcher. - How do you know?
He's the mystery guest, we don't know what he does.
We know he's not a bird-watcher...
Will you stop saying bird-watcher time and time again?
- Bird-watcher. - Bird-watcher! - ♪ Bird-watcher! ♪ - Oh, shut up.
Perhaps I should have stayed,
to shield her from the wrath of Ursula Vaughan Williams.
- She can be really scary. - It was a silly idea in the first place.
She's made her own bed, now she'll have to lie in it.
She was lying on the bottom of a skip when I last saw her.
The thing is with skips, you never know you want one
until you see someone else's.
I've noticed that phenomenon before.
Anyway, Nina was right, she was never going to fill it up.
Oh, she's not chucking her books out, is she?
Because I bet Ralph has a few valuable ones.
Are you in trouble?
Not as such.
Uh-huh. You blamed me?
No.
- I blamed Malcolm. - Me?!
Why me?
- Told her it was your stuff. - What did you do that for? - I panicked.
Why didn't you just panic and tell the truth?
It's more common to lie, surely?
Not on Colombo, it isn't, they just panic and tell the truth.
Well, to be fair to Nina, Ursula doesn't like me much.
- She's great admirer of yours. - Now she thinks I'm a thief.
Putting things in skips is not thieving.
You are actually giving her things.
Well, I'm sure she'll be eternally grateful for your broken hoover.
But it is thieving, you're stealing her... her space.
Space? You can't steal space.
You can steal anything if it costs money.
And that space, it cost her money.
Anyway, look, I wasn't stealing space, Malcolm. You were.
That's what she thinks, anyway.
You really are the limit, Nina!
Where were you all this time, anyway?
Oh, went to Nunney's for a cup of tea.
Wa-hey!
It wasn't like that. He lent me some books to read.
Thomas Hardy,
Albert Ca-Camus?
- Mm-hm. - And Sylvia Plath.
Oh, dear, he wants you to hang yourself.
And there were no implications?
- I wasn't gone that long. - What are implications?
Oh, sex, probably. If in doubt.
- Now we've missed who it was! - It's Greg Norman. - Ugh...
'Greg Norman, the Australian golfer...'
- That's cheating, he's a golfer, not a bird-watcher. - Yeah.
He's given me some books to read, which is another pro.
And there's still only one con.
And according to my elders and betters, the one con --
namely that I don't like him -- is another pro anyway.
So we're all set.
Would Quavers be good for crisp sandwiches, do you think?
Or would they go too soggy with the butter?
Love, Nina.
PS: Do you think that men's names are harder to say then women's?
What do you mean, he has a difficult name?
I find lots of men's names difficult.
- Really? - Mm-hm.
John?
Difficult.
Timothy.
Difficult.
Michael?
Easy.
Alf?
- Oh, enough, shut up. - Did someone say Alf?