02x07 - St Albert's Day

[bunniefuu]

Prices what? Granville, fetch a cloth.

We're not reducing things much, so you have no right to go having a slash on that window.

I just wondered if you'd got a yoghurt.

Thank you.

(FLOAT DRIVES OFF) Think I'm still in love with the milkwoman.

-- Aren't you sure? -- I keep buying yoghurt.

-- Perhaps you're in love with yoghurt.

-- No.

I don't like yoghurt.

I don't understand yoghurt.

People say it's still alive.

They couldn't make that mistake in your case.

I like to start the morning with a c--clean pair of boots.

Personally, I prefer a boiled egg.

Oh, dear.

He's half asleep and he's giving me errand boy jokes! I may be giving you the slight impression that I'm half asleep.

Don't be so modest.

It's a damn good impression.

I'm not surprised with all the practice I get -- every morning for years.

Some people need more sleep than others.

Maybe my father liked to linger in bed.

He didn't linger longer in your mother's.

He was off before she got his name.

If he was Hungarian, it'd be a difficult name to get.

Anyway, what do you mean "errand boy jokes"? Remember I am the assistant manager in this establishment.

"Heh heh heh"! You're right.

That's true.

Sweeping the pavement, washing windows.

A manager should be competent in all departments.

I'd like my father to be proud of me, whoever he was.

-- A manager should be on his toes.

-- I bet my father was on his toes.

He'd have to be if he was your height! We may be small, us Hungarians, but we're neat and we make wonderful horsemen.

You lot? Get off! You can't even make wonderful sandwiches.

We're passionate.

Love means everything to us Hungarians.

It also means you're half asleep -- your shopkeeping half.

Your social activities half is w--wide awake.

No, no, no.

I may look as though I'm half asleep, but underneath I'm fully alert andI'm spreading boot polish on my piece of bread! -- (BELL JANGLES) -- Why did you put boot polish on the table? So you can spread it on your bread.

I know your trouble.

Your trouble is that you don't think I can do anything right.

-- You should do something about that door.

-- How do you mean? It's stiff.

Spend some money and have it attended to.

It's getting harder to open than your wallet.

-- A small brown loaf and a malt.

-- They haven't come yet.

-- Save them for me.

-- I will.

What sort of house is it that has boot polish on the table for breakfast? What's wrong with Granville? He looks down in the dumps.

At his size, he could hardly look up in the dumps! -- Have you been nagging him? -- Nagging him? When do I nag him? Have you ever stopped to wonder why he ended up that size? If you hadn't nagged him so much, he'd be six foot four! It just happens to be one of those "I wonder who my father was" days.

Why don't you try and cheer him up, poor lad? I made him under--manager! And do something about this door.

I only want a little bit taken off, Gordon.

So I can open it without it sticking.

-- Try it now.

-- Right.

-- Is that better? -- Better? You call that better? It could be twice as good as that and still be worse! I'll take a bit more off.

You're not much of a wizard with the old tool kit.

-- I don't profess to be.

-- Aren't you a dedicated do--it--yourselfer? -- The wife decided I was a do--it--yourselfer.

-- That explains it, yes.

Left to my own devices, I'm more your keen amateur idle beggar.

Well, if it works, you've done me a favour, if it doesn't, I'll stick this screwdriver in your ear.

You won't have to bother.

I'll probably do it myself.

The one thing about this job I've got a flair for is injuring myself.

Please.

Don't let him get away, Gordon.

That was a potential good customer.

-- He's a foreigner.

-- They're the best kind sometimes.

You can talk that lot into anything.

There was a time we'd even convinced the Germans we'd won the w*r.

He's not a German.

He's one of those unpronounceable mob where no tourist ever goes twice.

Oh.

Welsh, is he? He's not Welsh, he's Bulgarian, Hungarian or something.

He's over here looking up the people he met the last time he was here in the late 1940s.

Hungarian? Look at that.

Glides like a piece of silk.

-- L--late 1940s? -- Your door's fixed.

Sh--shut it on the way out, Gordon.

You don't look Hungarian.

Dressed like this, I don't even look human! I think I do look Hungarian.

Whereabouts, then? Whereabouts do you think you look Hungarian? Is it your elbow? Nothing that shows looks Hungarian.

I've got thehigh cheekbones.

How can someone of your size have high cheekbones? You've only just got low cheekbones.

Anyway, the milkwoman reckons I've got gypsy--looking eyes.

Oh, yeah? Neither taxed nor insured, I know.

Some days I just feel Hungarian.

You were feeling the milkwoman when I caught you! I was not! She was just showing me her bruises.

Oh! Bruises? Is that what she calls them? They're not bruises, they're yoghurt stings.

Be careful.

I'm warning you, our Granville, don't mess with dairy products that are best left untampered.

You can't mess about with these strange regenerative, mutating things.

Don't blame me if one moonlit night, a great evil 30--foot yoghurt comes slurping down Thornley Street.

Don't be ridiculous.

Why are you looking at me like that? I've just realised how like your mother you are.

-- Do you think so? -- Yes.

She couldn't bake either.

Rubbish! This is a special order for Mrs Mukerjee.

One of these days, Granville, all this will be yours.

I don't want it all in one load! You're going to sleep again.

I'm not going to sleep again.

I'm falling over under the weight! Allow me to lighten the load for you.

Thanks very much.

One bag of self--raising flour! A great help! How d--d--d--da I d--d--d -- I d--d--didn't hear the b--b--bell.

-- No bell.

It make no noise.

He move like very quiet.

Oh, does he? I see.

Oh! Back up, back up.

Excuse me.

I just want a word with my deputy assistant under--manager.

Back up.

Won't be a moment, sir.

Put that lot down.

-- I've just picked them up.

-- Put them down.

"P--pick them up, G--Granville! P--put them down!" -- Sshh! -- "Move them, G--Granville.

" I'm going to be bow legged.

I'll end up with legs like a rickshaw coolie.

-- He moves very quiet, does he? -- He? Who? What are you talking about? Him.

We've got a father in the shop A customer in the shop! A customer.

What's wrong with that? We do have the odd customer.

This one looks very untrustworthy.

Put your cap over your eyes.

-- I don't want him to see you.

-- Why not? Trust me, Granville.

Trust me.

He looks very sinister, the sneaky foreign devil.

He wormed his way in without ringing the bell.

I must have that door altered.

-- What's he doing? -- Standing there looking foreign.

How long has he been standing there? That's what's worrying me.

His pockets might be full of our goodies by now.

-- You mean he's a shoplifter? -- Absolutely, yes.

-- He's got an honest face.

-- You call that an honest face? That's the sort of face that used to throw bombs at archdukes in the B--B--Balkans! I'll go in and keep him talking.

-- You can check his pockets.

-- How do I check his pockets? There's no point in having an under--manager if I have to think of everything myself.

Come on.

Open the door.

Follow me.

I'll go first.

Ah.

Say hello to the nice foreign gentleman, Granville.

-- Hello -- No.

Don't take your hat off.

He's liable to a bit of insanity if his head gets cold, you see? -- Statchik.

-- Oh.

He called you Statchik.

It's probably foreign for illegitimate.

No.

Me.

I am Statchik.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

How nasty.

Fancy coming all this way and then feeling statchik.

It's probably the water where you come from.

You wouldn't want to live where they have to b--boil everything, would you? -- You, everything, you have to b--boil? -- B--boil? Oh, dear, he stutters as well.

Imagine.

It's bad enough having a s--s--s It's bad enough having a s--s--s--s It's bad enough having a s--slight impediment in English, but imagine stuttering your way through a foreign t--tongue.

T--tongue? Speaks Chinese as well.

You see, all these languages, to us they're all gob and nostrils, you see.

If you go speaking them here, people just give you artificial respiration.

-- Come on, Granville.

Operation frisk.

-- No, I can't.

You must.

Will you attend to the customer? And keep your hat well down.

I don't want you going insane again.

Come on.

Off you go.

Good morning.

Never mind clicking at him.

There we are, sir.

-- Turn that way.

-- What you do? It's just a little private service given by the small shopkeeper, sir.

There's only me and Harrods doing this now.

Harrods? What is Harrods? It's a slightly bigger shop down the road.

-- There we are.

-- Ah! Please.

I want no personal attentions.

Are you sure, sir? If you took your coat off, he could iron it for you.

-- It's all right.

-- Please yourself, sir.

He has a very good reputation as a presser.

You ask the milkwoman.

-- Chance would be a fine thing! -- Take your jacket off.

-- What for? -- It's hot in here.

No.

It's not hot in here Aah! It's hot in here! He's taking his jacket off, sir.

Good idea that.

It is very hot in here.

We use him as a little thermometer.

It's very hot.

It's the Gulf Stream.

-- But you are many miles from the sea! -- But the canal's only two streets away.

It gets very humid round there on a Friday night.

The Englishman has the sea in his blood.

That's not all.

There's quite a lot of brown ale and fluoride as well.

Now I've bent me chocolate.

I shall be up half the night putting a cardboard splint in that.

Please Please.

I want woman.

Oh, we don't sell women.

Only groceries.

There's not a lot of call for women round here.

Everyone who wants one seems to have got one already.

Please.

Old sweetheart.

It's no good flattering me, my old darling.

-- Can I put my coat back on? -- No, you can't.

-- It's cold in here.

-- It is not cold in here! It's cold in here.

Good morning, Mrs Parsloe.

It's not cold in here -- not for Saint Albert's Day.

-- It's mild for Saint Albert's Day.

-- Saint Albert's Day? It's a heap big festival in these whereabouts.

-- Oh.

Holiday.

-- Sort of a half holiday.

What's he talking about? Saint Albert? -- Serve Mrs Parsloe, Granville.

-- This gentleman were first.

I am dealing with this gentleman, Mrs Parsloe.

What would you like, Mrs Parsloe? -- Foreign, is he? -- It looks like it.

Don't they have some funny ways? Mr Statchik, what can I do for you on Saint Albert's Day? Please I look for woman.

See what I mean? -- Why have you got your cap down? -- It's his idea.

-- You look like an idiot.

-- I'm past caring.

We don't go looking for women on Saint Albert's Day.

We only take off our jackets.

-- Jackets?! People take off their jackets? -- Are you still here, Mrs Parsloe? Before a man can shake hands on Saint Albert's Day, he must remove his jacket.

I've never heard of it.

There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your back parlour.

-- Would you serve this lady? At once.

-- I'll have half a dozen pikelets.

Let me show you, Mr Statchik, what happens.

Then you'll be ready for it.

-- Both coats.

-- Is necessary to remove jacket? Yes.

It will cause deep resentment in the other party if you don't remove your jacket.

There we are.

Frisk mark two.

Now, then, hand through the leg, sir.

Have a grab of it.

That's it.

I've never heard such rubbish.

You must have done.

He's fluent in rubbish.

He speaks it like a native.

Come along.

Your turn.

Happy Saint Albert's Day! You're next, Mrs Parsloe.

You thought he was my father, didn't you? Never c--crossed me mind.

Look at me when you're lying to me.

-- What's for d--dinner? -- Never mind what's for d--dinner! You thought he was my father, didn't you? Saint Albert's Day! (BELL JANGLES) I wish he had been my father.

I think it's romantic.

I think it's pathetic! He didn't even know her name.

All he'd got were a couple of scars and an old photograph.

Well, that's how it is with us Hungarians.

Eh? Imagine, one night of love and he's never forgotten it.

Neither did Tommy Wilcox forget his.

He had to go all the way to London for his.

He was underneath these railway arches.

People used to flock to railway arches in them days.

Times were hard.

Nobody who was young enough to be frisky could afford a motor car.

Love were an outdoor activity in them days.

It were brisk and bracing.

The moral decline of this nation can be directly traceable to the time when they started frolicking indoors.

Of course, icy bedrooms kept things sane for a while, then along comes central heating and brought over--indulgence into the reach of the working classes.

-- What about Tommy Wilcox? -- Who? -- Him under the railway arches.

-- Oh, yeah.

A loop of his braces got caught on a passing shunting engine.

He was plucked untimely from the arms of his beloved.

-- Rubbish! -- He was found near Clapham Junction.

Without his hat.

That must have given rise to a great deal of speculation.

At that time, you were never seen without your hat.

You do tell me some flannel.

I assure you, Granville, people wore their hats on all occasions, except under railway arches and in the bath.

Right.

Your door's fixed.

-- Is it good and stiff, Gordon? -- Good and stiff.

-- So the next jangle will be authentic? -- Right.

Good.

I've been up and down like a pantomime fairy.

-- I've never been to a pantomime.

-- He's never been to a pantomime? No.

-- Never had a father to take me, did I? -- Aw.

-- Just had this wicked uncle.

-- What a pity.

Don't start complaining.

You never tell people who bought you a nice shiny bicycle for your eleventh birthday.

Just what a little Hungarian horseman needs -- a shop bike! I bought it to develop his muscles, Gordon.

I know he's small, but thanks to me, he's p--perfectly formed.

-- Have you seen his calf muscles? -- I am not showing my calf muscles.

He must have what is possibly the world's strongest little short legs.

-- He looks fit enough.

-- Oh, yes.

I've been emotionally neglected.

You keep hoping that someone new and exciting is going to come into your life.

-- (BELL JANGLES) -- That's probably them now.

Go and see.

It's that f--foreign fellow that's upset him, Gordon.

Him and his blurred photograph.

He's getting worse and worse.

Can you hold the fort? I'm going to talk to Nurse Gladys Emmanuel.

Right.

-- Nobody in the shop.

-- What do you mean? -- See for yourself.

-- That's funny.

I heard the bell go.

-- Fancy a drink, Gordon? -- I thought you'd never ask.

Mash that tea bag a bit harder, will you? It'll stave off the pangs of hunger, Gordon.

-- Looking for his old sweetheart? -- That's what he said, yes.

-- Showing this old photograph? -- Yes.

Big girl with a b--blurred face.

That's a lovely story.

It's quite touching.

I hope he finds her.

Why are you looking at me like that? I was just wondering what you were like in 1949.

-- What do you mean? -- Were you a b--big girl with a b--blurred face? You'll be out on your ear! How dare you? I was a small girl with a freckly face.

All right, my love.

I don't mind you getting mad at me as long as your habits were never Hungarian.

I'm worried about Granville, you know.

He's getting moodier and moodier.

-- I think he might do something stupid.

-- Like what? He's getting so desperate I think he might fly off the handle and give someone too much change.

Will you help me out in a little white lie? What kind of white lie? It's not one of your schemes to increase his hours or cut his pocket money? Pocket money? Wages! I give him wages, damn it.

Wages?! Three pound a week? And all the Spanish comforts he can eat.

It's Hungarian comforts he's more interested in at the moment.

What is this white lie you want me to perjure my soul with? Come on.

I'm not sure yet.

Leave all this and come over for a cup of tea.

I want to get him off this Hungarian tack and onto something else.

Sit down there and I'll fill in your background -- as the sailor said.

Well? -- Hello, love.

-- Hello.

Gordon's gone.

He had to go and unblock Mrs Horner's overflow.

I'm not surprised, the amount of brown ale she puts away! Get Nurse Gladys a cup.

She's come for a cup of tea and a biscuit.

We were just reminiscing over her ironing.

Go on! My underwear's not as old as that! No.

We were talking about the royal visit.

Do you remember? -- No.

Which royal visit? -- The old king.

He came up here in 1949.

He used to stutter as well, old King George.

We used to listen to him on the wireless on Christmas Day.

He was responsible for many a c--cold Christmas dinner! Waiting for him to finish.

He came up to Leeds with a lot of foreign dignitaries.

Foreign dignitaries? When was this? Oh, it was way before your time.

It was er Let's see.

It must have been er It must have been about nine months before your time, come to think of it.

Yes.

No.

It couldn't be, could it? I mean No.

Not on a royal visit, could it? I don't see why not.

They have to have some relaxation.

Of course they do.

Who do? We don't remember.

It was a duke of some sort.

We don't remember.

Foreign, was he? -- Hungarian! -- No.

That's the point.

He wasn't foreign.

He was a English duke come up to Doncaster for the races.

You remember? They had all the flags out.

Yes.

We had a tea party outside the school.

-- That's right.

-- He was a little fella.

-- He was little.

-- Very smart, but little with it.

-- I'm little with it! -- Yes.

He had gypsy eyes, didn't he? Nah.

Rubbish.

What are the chances of me being related to? Which duke was it? -- That's the trouble.

We don't remember.

-- You should remember! I could be seventh in line for the Well, 27th anyway.

There couldn't be anything in it, Granville.

We're on the wrong track.

Though your mother did happen to be working at Doncaster Racecourse at the time, as a waitress.

Very tasty she looked too in her white frilly apron.

She suddenly disappeared for two days.

When she came back, she had a big secret smile on her face and she was clutching two enormous tins of Royal Doncaster butterscotch.

I've always liked butterscotch! You see, it might be hereditary.

This is getting more uncanny by the second.

Oh, no, it can't be him.

He's Hungarian.

-- Oh, yes.

-- Who said I was Hungarian? -- You said you were Hungarian.

-- That's a lie! Let's have a look at you in the light.

Stand up.

Let's just see if there's any lineal resemblance.

(BELL JANGLES) That certainly cheered him up.

But he'll be hell to live with now.

Oh! There's nobody in the shop.

I'll k*ll them kids if they're (BELL JANGLES) Oh, no! It's stuck again.

It's not kids at all.

It's customers bashing at the door, then going away thinking I'm closed! I've been sitting there losing a fortune! ("REGAL" VOICE) I say, old fellow, would you mind not jangling that bell? One's ears are delicate, you know.

I do beg your pardon, I'm sure.

Would your royal lowness mind getting his cycle clips on and going and dragging Gordon out of Mrs Horner's overflow? -- I want him down here on affairs of state.

-- State? Yes.

I'm in one! I wonder how much I lost through that damn door? Oh, well.

Some days you just have to take the rough with the rough.

It's been a funny Saint Albert's Day.

I wonder if that Hungarian found his girl.

Girl? She'd be a right old boiler by now.

Oh, Lord, let me make that money back tomorrow.

And perhaps a bit extra for a rainy day.

And please, Lord, try and change our Granville's mind.

He'll look ridiculous with a monocle.