12x01 - Painting

[bunniefuu]

♪ Not staying in

♪ Just hangin' around
with my head in a spin

♪ But there is no need
to scream and shout

♪ We're not going out

♪ We are not going out. ♪

This programme contains adult humour

What was all that noise?

I'm surprised you didn't
wake the kids.

Have you been in the attic?

Yeah. It's been over
a year since Dad d*ed.

I can't put it off any longer.

It's time we buried him.

Your dad would've liked that joke.

I used to like the one he used to
tell about the blind flute player

at the nudist camp.

Well?

Oh, I don't know if I can.

This is all that's left of him.

I feel once I've sorted through
all this, it'll be over.

I knew someone who went through
their parents' stuff

and found a shoe box
with £ , in cash.

I suppose I can't put it off
forever.

Well, actually,
there IS a shoe box.

But I wouldn't hold your breath.
It's his underpants.

Actually, maybe you should
hold your breath.

Makes you think, don't it?

What? Well, no-one's around forever.

You should spend as much time
as possible with family

whilst you've got them.

KNOCK AT DOOR

That'll be Mum and Dad.

Pretend we're not in.

Hello, darling. Hi, Mum.

Lee's just going through
his dad's stuff.

All his worldly possessions
in just one box.

Actually, Geoffrey, er, my dad
would've wanted you to have these.

That's very thoughtful, Lee.

No, no, no. Don't open them now.

It'll be a nice surprise
when you get home.

All I ask is that
you wear them occasionally.

This can't be easy for you, Lee,

but I suppose it comes to us all
in the end.

We won't hang around for long,
will we, Geoffrey?

Yeah, but you've had a good innings.

I mean we've just popped round
for a quick visit.

And we wanted to give you something,
Lee.

Oh. Thank you.

What is it?

It's a portrait. Of Frank.
An original oil painting.

Really?
That's very kind of you both.

Painted by a certain up-and-coming
new talent

by the name of Wendy Adams.

You, Mum? I didn't know you were
an artist, Wendy.

I've loved to paint
ever since I was a child,

but for years, life got in the way.

Frank's passing reminded me
that life is short.

So I decided to reconnect
with that six-year-old girl.

Well, you've certainly done that.

Well, let's have a look then.

That's...Frank?

Yes. It's Frank.

Is it?

For me?

Yes, Lee. It's for you.

Didn't know Wendy had such
hidden talents, did you?

Yeah. Buried, even.

For all these years, and then
suddenly they rise from the ground

like a... I don't know.

..zombie.

So you like it?

I'm speechless.

It's fine to be speechless.

You can be as honest as you like.

Or stay speechless.

In that case...I love it.

In fact, I feel like crying.

But, er, I don't want
my tears ruining this,

if indeed that's possible.

You're fine. The oil's dry.

Do you like it, Lucy?

I...love it every bit as much
as Lee does.

I see what you did there.

I'm so relieved.

Wendy's been working on this
for months.

It's incredible, isn't it?

It's something else.

I mean, those eyes.

The way they follow you
around the room.

They do. I mean, between them,

those eyes definitely have
the entire room covered.

And you can be very honest
with me, Lee.

Is there anything about it that
you don't like? I can take it.

Well, I mean, yes,
if you want to have it back, I...

I can take the criticism.

There's nothing, is there, Lee?
It's perfect.

And so the most important question
is, where are you going to hang it?

What?

Pride of place, I shouldn't wonder.
Which wall is it going on?

You know what? I think this belongs
somewhere very special.

Somewhere I most associate
with my dad.

Go on. The spot where Dad and me
had quality time,

just the two of us.

And for me, that means hanging it

pride of place, right slap-bang
in the centre

of the shed.

The shed? Oh, Dad loved that shed.
We had some great times there.

We laughed. We cried.

We danced.

You danced? Yeah, it's where
I felt closest to him.

Well, you must have done.
That shed's six feet by four.

Whenever I see this painting,

I will feel that Dad is
looking down,

or diagonally across,

and remembering all those happy
shed-based hours we had together.

If that's where you think it
belongs.

I do. Well, I don't.

Not after all the hard work that
Wendy's poured into this portrait.

The obvious place for it is there.

Right. The thing is,

we can't put it there,
unfortunately.

Why not? We'd planned to put
something else in that spot.

What, something more important than
an original oil painting

of your late father
painted by your mother-in-law?

Yeah.

Well, I'd be very interested
to hear what it is.

Lucy?

Yes, I'd also be interested.

Well, the thing is,
my dad had a picture of his own,

er, that we plan
to put in that spot.

And it was a piece of artwork that
was very, very special to him.

Art. Shed dancing.

I feel like I hardly knew the man.

Well, it wasn't all art
that he liked, just, er,

this one particular piece.

He had it on his wall for years.

Is that so? Yeah.

I presume this is it?

What? Well, you said all his
worldly goods were in this box,

so this must be it, mustn't it?

Yes, I...I suppose it must.

So this is the work of art
going up on your living room wall.

Yes. Yes, it is.

Wow.

Well, art can certainly be
very powerful, can't it?

What was it about this piece that
so appealed to your father, Lee?

Dad just, you know, always loved
its...its powerful message.

And that message was,
"Never forget your knickers."

Wendy put a lot of blood, sweat
and tears into that portrait.

Well, we should get her some paints
for Christmas.

Well, there is an obvious compromise
to this predicament.

Put this charming little memento of
Frank's unpretentious taste in art

in the shed where you had
so many happy memories of him,

and Wendy's portrait can go up here
on that wall where it belongs.

I suppose that makes sense.

Lee, can you think
of any reason why not?

Lee? Give me a minute.

Well, that's settled, then.

Well, thank you, Mum.
It's beautiful.

Oh. Well, I must say,
I'm a little embarrassed now.

I assumed you'd just shove it
in a cupboard somewhere.

I'm happy to keep brainstorming
if...

I certainly didn't expect it
to be displayed in pride of place.

But we did bring a power drill
and a set of wall fixings

just in case, so I'll go and
get them from the car.

So what do you really think?

What? Bloody hideous, isn't it?

Well, it's, I mean, it's a little
rough around the edges, I suppose.

Don't patronise me, Lucy,
I'm not blind,

much as though that thing
might make me wish that I was.

So you don't like it either, then?

I saw less offensive images on
the monitor at my last colonoscopy.

So why can't it go in the shed?
I'll tell you why not -

because she's also painted
another one of me and her.

And if you think that one's bad,
you should see this one.

Twice as big, ten times as ugly.

She's even painted us...

..stark bloody naked.

I have to have my breakfast with
that damn thing leering down at me

every single morning.

Now you know how Wendy's felt
for the last years.

But I tolerate it
because I love Wendy,

and I don't want to
hurt her feelings,

and you'll damn well
do the same thing.

Ready?

We were just saying what a wonderful
gesture this was, weren't we, Lee?

Yep.

It's going to look great
on that wall.

DRILL WHIRS

Everyone else hearing that
screaming or is it just in me head?

We did say we wanted something
to remind us of your dad.

True. And how else am I supposed
to remember his overbite,

his cross-eyes, his different-shaped
ears, his menacing eyebrows

and his elongated head?

Look, I know it's not
a perfect likeness,

but you could look at it
as impressionism.

You know what impressionism is,
right?

Yes. I've just spent an entire
conversation with your mum

doing an impression of someone who
doesn't think that's total bollocks.

It's appreciated, you know.

What is?

Pretending you liked it
and not hurting my mum's feelings.

Well, it's not her fault
she's got arthritis

and can only paint with her foot.

Well, thank you.
It was very sweet of you.

Well, you owe me one.

Oh, is that right?

And what do I need to do in return?

Well, er, you know that thing you do
on special occasions?

Oh, that.

But it's not your birthday
or Christmas Day.

It's not Pancake Tuesday either.

Oh, yeah, I forgot you negotiated
that day as well.

Maybe we could, er,
count this as a special occasion.

Maybe we could.

Really? Here?

Well, you were a lot more
devil-may-care before we had kids.

Well, yeah, look at the problems
that caused us.

What problems?

We had kids.

LEE GROANS

I can't do this!

Why? Look at his face.

We might as well have
a speech bubble saying,

"Get in there, my son."

Oh, that's worse.

Now he looks like a pervert
peeking through the bushes.

Enough is enough.

What are you doing?

Look, this is our house.
Give me one good reason

why I shouldn't put this
straight in the shed.

Erm, because my parents will never
speak to you again.

In your own time.

I'm sorry, Lee, but I happen to care
about my mum's feelings.

Your mum's feelings?
What about my feelings?

I'm trying to process my grief here,

and that is not helped with
a portrait that looks like

a rotting turnip on
the sex offenders register.

Don't you dare!

Look, I'll be tactful, OK?

I'll say, "Sorry, Wendy,
we really like the gesture,

"but we've had a think and
it's not really to our taste."

Yeah. I'm sure that will go down
as well as when you said

her dress looked a bit tarty.

I didn't ask to see
her wedding photos.

What are you looking at?

Morning.

Have we been burgled?

What, by a blind man?

Where is it?

I put it in Mollie's room
after you went to bed last night.

Mollie's room?

Yeah. She's still asleep.
She hasn't seen it yet.

It'll be a nice surprise
when she wakes up.

And what the hell am I supposed
to say to Mum and Dad?

Ah, well, that is the clever bit.
I've had a thought.

It can't be both.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Oh, my God, it's them.

Wait! Go and get the painting.

It's fine, Lucy. I've told you,
I've got a plan. Trust me.

Morning.

Sorry to call round so early,
I remembered we left the drill.

Ooh, like a serial k*ller returning
to the scene of the crime.

I didn't want to stay home alone
with the naked painting.

It turns out the eyes
aren't the only thing

that follow you around the room.

Where is it?

Erm, it's in Mollie's room.

Why?

The thing is, after
you went last night,

Mollie came down
for a glass of water.

And when she saw the painting,

well, she immediately fell in love
with it.

She said she'd never had
a piece of artwork

connect with her before on
such a visceral level.

Didn't she, Lucy?

Yes. It was like she was
suddenly years older.

And she looked at us and she asked,

well, she begged,
she said, "Mummy, Daddy,

"can I have Grandad Frank in my room
with me?"

Did she? We've all been
devastated by the loss of Dad,

but I think Mollie was hit
the hardest.

For now.

I took it straight to her room,

and she gave me
the sweetest smile, and she said,

"I want to be able to see Grandad
Frank first thing in the morning

"and last thing at night."

So I put it straight on her wall,
right opposite her bed.

I even used your drill.

Did you lubricate the chuck?

Not now, Geoffrey.

I felt putting it in her room
was the right thing to do.

What more can I say?

Nothing. When I left her bedroom...

Oh, there IS more.

..the last thing I heard her say
was,

"Goodnight, Grandad Frank.
Say hello the angels for me."

That's quite a story,
isn't it, Geoffrey?

Yes, it most certainly is.

And the bare arse is going up there,
is it?

No.

Oh, don't tell me,
Benji's put it in his room

with a photo of Frank
stuck on each cheek?

Well, obviously we will bring the
portrait back when Mollie's ready.

Although it did take me many, many
years to get over the loss

of my own grandfather.
Is that right?

Yes. To this day, whenever I see
a certain kind of tall,

grey-haired, elderly gentleman,
I have this sort of strange,

almost inexpressible feeling
of pain and dismay.

I don't think it would be fair
to take the painting away

from Mollie, ripping away the
memory of her grandfather.

Well, it...it would be like...

Someone ripping off your testicles?

It's vivid, but let's go with that.

I just hope I haven't upset you,
Wendy.

God knows the last thing
I wanted to do was upset you.

Of course I'm not upset.
I'm very moved.

I'm delighted the painting is
hanging on Mollie's bedroom wall.

Hopefully it'll give her the
comfort she so clearly needs.

PIERCING SCREAM

What was that?

A fox.

You know, making love.

Actually, do you know why they
scream like that

when they're doing it? Apparently
they have a barb-shaped...

Yes, all right!

It sounded like Mollie.

She must've had a bad dream.

I expect she's, er, still processing
the grief. I'll go and see her.

There's something
horrible in my room.

I think she's sleepwalking.
I'll get her back to her room.

I don't want to go back.
That painting's in there.

Got to be gentle.
It's dangerous to wake them.

It's really awful. Move it!

I thought you said
Mollie loved the painting.

Yes! She does.

She was talking about
a different painting.

You're going to ask to see
this other painting, aren't you?

Yes.

If I popped upstairs,
would you give me about four hours?

OK, yes.

She was talking about
Frank's painting.

So if she loves it, why did she
scream and say it was horrible?

I can explain.

Don't say there's a different
painting in her bedroom.

Oh.

Well?

Look, the reason that
Mollie screamed was because,

er, she was upset,

because she has damaged
the painting of Frank.

What?!

What?

When she said it was
horrible and awful,

what she meant was it was horrible
and awful what she had done to it.

Why, what the hell did she do to it?

You don't want to know.

Yes, we do.
Come on, Lee, spill the beans.

Actually...

Don't say she spilt beans on it.

Right. Oh, come on, just tell us.

Or even better, just show us.

Good idea.
But can I do it in a day or two?

Because I want to get
a picture restorer that I know

to look at it first.
Is that right? What's his name?

It's, erm, Ralph von Hoarer.

Ralph von Hoarer
the picture restorer?

Yep.

Is he friends with Friedrich
von Kramer the picture framer?

God's sake, Lee, just tell us,
what did she do to it?

I could always go and get it
if it helps.

No, no, no! I'll, er, I'll get it.

No! It cannot be damaged.

Well, it looks like it is.

Don't you dare, Lee.

I mean, don't you dare
go and get it.

I don't want Mum seeing it
if it's damaged.

Better living in ignorant bliss.

Bit crowded with Lee
living there already.

Oh, just get it,
for God's sake, Lee.

I'm sure I'll be able to fix it.

OK, but I'm sure it's something
very, very easily repaired, Lee,

unlike, say, a broken nose
or a hammered skull.

Maybe she's thrown something
easily brushed off on it,

like the glitter she keeps in her
right-hand side bedside table,

second drawer down.

I'm so sorry, Mum.

If I'd have known this would happen,

I would never have let her
take the picture upstairs.

Well, it's so hard to
understand what goes on

in their tiny, infantile minds.

Isn't it just?

I'm sure Lee's worrying
about nothing.

Whatever she's done, I'm sure it was
a completely unintentional accident.

Maybe she slipped and
fell holding a crayon

and got a tiny little bit of...

Why would she do that?

Yes, Lee, why the hell
would anyone do that?

Because she couldn't
find the glitter.

It's just not like Mollie.

You're right, Mum.
It isn't like her.

It's like someone else altogether,
isn't it, Lee?

Like some sort of cretin.

Don't worry, Mum,
there will be consequences.

What kind of consequences?

The heartless little vandal
will be losing her balls.

Her footballs, obviously.

In the garden.

I'll pop them with my teeth.

It's not Pancake Tuesday.

Look, maybe when she, er, she drew
the glasses and the beard on,

she was trying to disguise
her Grandad Frank

as a way of disguising how sad
she was that he was no longer here.

Yes, it's very sad, isn't it?

Maybe the glasses represent a wish
to see her grandfather again

and the tongue, maybe a
desire to hear his voice.

Do you think so?

Of course I don't bloody think so.

I've never heard such
arrant pseudo-Freudianism.

Oh, I don't know, Geoffrey.

Art can arouse some very
deep emotions in people.

Exactly. I mean, I am sorry
to say this, Wendy,

but in some ways,
this painting is too good.

Do you think?

I don't think.

He's right, he doesn't.

I know. I mean, after all,

everyone agrees how lifelike this
painting is. Don't they, Geoffrey?

Well... Well, yes. Yes, of course.

And I'm sure the
damage can be fixed.

I was watching that show
the other night, what's it called?

Stephen King's It?

The Repair Shop.

In comparison with the things
they do, this will be easy.

Couple of hours' work will have it
looking as good as new.

Well, obviously it can't then
go back in Mollie's room,

not under the circumstances,

so it will need to go back up there,
where it belongs.

Oh, no, Geoffrey.
It can't come back into this house.

Not if it's causing so much anguish.

And it is, isn't it?

More than you could ever know.

Well, it's settled, then.

I'll repair it and then it
can hang proudly on our wall.

What?!

You've been saying all along
how much you admire the painting.

Yes, he has been saying that,
hasn't he?

It can hang next to the other one
you like so much.

The one of us two.

All three grandparents,
back together forever.

Now you get to appreciate it
every day, Geoffrey.

Ah, look at his face!

Defacing it?

What the hell is the matter
with you?

My hands were tied.

A bit like your mum when she did
that painting.

And using our daughter to get your
sorry little arse out of trouble.

Ooh, you are on shaky ground
with that one.

What's that supposed to mean?
You, telling her to lie

to her teacher and
pretend that she was ill

so that we could get cheap flights
during term-time.

Who the hell gets scabies?

You are so bloody ungrateful.

Oh, come off it,
that painting was a monstrosity.

You could barely look at it
any more than I could.

Well, I can barely look at you,

but I don't draw all over your face
with marker pen.

No, you get Mollie to do it.

Oh, not this again.

What kind of mother tells their
child to write "do not resuscitate"

on their father's head?

It was a joke!

I was still under anaesthetic!

At least I don't use my daughter's
grief to get me out of trouble.

Er, using your kids to
get you out of trouble?

That's the only perk
of being a parent!

The only perk?

All right, I like
the potato waffles.

Look, this is silly.

Honestly, Lucy, I genuinely was
considering your mum's feelings.

I just didn't want her to know
I didn't like the painting.

She'd made such an effort.

Well, you could've
gone about it differently.

I know. And I'm sorry. Honestly.

At least we don't have it
staring down at us any more.

True. We should probably get a bit
of art for that wall, actually.

What about...?

Not the tennis player's backside.

I could get the one where
she's facing the camera.

She's still scratching,
but it's not quite as classy.

Shall we make up?

Do you promise never to deface
an oil painting from my mum

of your recently deceased
father ever again?

Well, I certainly
promise to cut down.

What are you doing?

You know what they say,
the best bit about an argument.

Winning?

Come on. I said I was sorry
and the kids are on that sleepover.

So? Well, you know, make-up sex.

All right,
let's make up we've had sex.

We do have some unfinished business
from yesterday.

It's not Pancake Tuesday.

No, but I could still flip you over.

Too much.

Oh!

Mum!

Sorry, the lights were off,
so we thought you were out.

Er, we were just, erm...

Hang on, this is our house!

What's wrong with your bedroom?

Well, we were sleepwalking.
Runs in the family.

Don't mind him. He thinks keeping
things spicy in a marriage

means an M&S chicken dhansak
for two.

I have been known to sometimes
sit on that sofa.

Yeah, well, we've been
over this, Geoffrey.

That is not how you get pregnant.

How's the painting
restoration going, Wendy?

It was only water-soluble pen.
Came out easily.

Now it's hanging proudly
on our dining room wall.

Isn't that nice, Geoffrey?

Wonderful.

I was worried that the funeral
would be the last I'd ever see

of dear old Frank, but now I can
be reminded of him hourly.

So why did you let yourselves in
if you thought we were all out?

Cos we wanted to leave you
with a little surprise.

What? Well, we've been
talking about Mollie

and everything you told us
about how she's been suffering.

I think we've found a way
to make up for it.

It was Geoffrey's idea, wasn't it?
Oh, yes.

Go on. Well, we decided that instead
of being reminded about the death

of her dearly departed
grandfather all the time,

she needs to be reminded
about the living.

She's actually doing OK now.

She was screaming with grief about
the death of her grandfather

a few hours ago.

Mm. Time can be a great healer.

Geoffrey has decided it wasn't fair
for us to hog all the artwork.

That's right, Lee.

He thinks it's important
we share some of it with you,

and the children, of course.

What artwork?

I think I might have
mentioned it yesterday, Lee.

And we think,
to play safe this time,

it should stay up on
that wall permanently.

DRILL WHIRS

Look at his face!

♪ We're not going out

♪ Not staying in

♪ Just hangin' around
with my head in a spin

♪ But there is no need
to scream and shout

♪ We're not going out

♪ We are not going out. ♪