02x06 - Shedding at the Wedding

Episode transcripts for the TV series, "Open All Hours". Aired: 23 March 1976 – 6 October 1985.*
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Arkwright is a miserly grocery store shopkeeper with a stammer, who longs to marry his lifelong love Nurse Gladys.
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02x06 - Shedding at the Wedding

Post by bunniefuu »

-- Well? How much? -- I'm thinking.

I'm thinking.

Come on, me arms are aching up here.

And my wallet's aching down here! It's me that has to throw the money away.

Let's forget it.

You're not built for making reductions.

A modern shopkeeper has to give reductions to get the people in.

Well, how much? -- 28p.

-- Are you sure? Get it writ at 28 per--per--p! Right.

Make it 29.

Oh, yes, a bit nippy.

A tinge of metallics in the air, but at least it's fine.

It'll be a nice day for the wedding.

How can you tell? It's the middle of the night! Moonlit wedding.

There's a novelty.

One of these days, you'll be going to my wedding.

Hang on a minute.

Who'll be looking after the shop? No, no.

Tell you what, I'll bring you back a p--piece of bridesmaid.

You'd close the shop on your own wedding day! Close the shop? It's easy to see you've got Hungarian blood, Granville.

You've got restless gypsy feet.

Your eyeballs are none too steady of a morning either.

I don't understand your attitude.

You're always angling for time off.

I never get any.

I never have time to go out with girls.

All the girls in the area know that your evenings are f--free.

With what I get paid, they have to be free! What evenings? We don't close till nine o'clock at night.

One day, Granville, all this will be yours.

Lock--lock--lock--lock--lock, stock and barrel.

-- I'm always telling you this.

-- Yes.

Every time I ask for a rise.

Supposing I wanted to get married.

-- What have you been up to? -- I haven't been up to anything.

You don't get out till nine.

You shouldn't have had time! I haven't had time! By the time I get to the girls, it's like arriving late at the market.

All the best goods have been snapped up.

All that's left is the overripe stuff that everyone's been prodding and poking.

Don't worry about me getting married.

It's just a hypothetical question.

You keep your hypotheticals under control.

What kind of age are you to be getting married? Old enough.

I've been voting for ages.

And look at the mess the country's in! If you can't do better than that, stay single.

I feel ridiculous at my age.

The virgin grocer! Them two getting married today are younger than me.

There's plenty of time.

I'm just having thoughts of marriage at my age.

If you don't hurry up, thoughts will be all you're capable of! I am hurrying up.

My fiancée in yonder bedroom and myself are just waiting until her dear mother can get settled somewhere else.

-- Like where? -- The crematorium? I'm going to tell the nurse you said that! You keep your virgin trap shut, you! She'd k*ll me if she heard me say that.

She's very fond of her mother.

I stand at the bedside sometimes watching her patiently minister to that dear, frail, old lady.

I get this lump in me throat.

It's her mother's elbow! She can't stand me.

She sits in her pink woolly bed--jacket, spitting biscuit crumbs, doing this impersonation of someone who's going to live forever.

As a consequence, Nurse Gladys and I have to snatch such moments we can of p--privacy.

Here, come and help me carry the ladder up.

Come on.

You can't knock her up this time in the morning.

Would you care to rephrase that? -- Sshh! -- All right.

Suppose she's been up all night delivering babies? You just stand here and hold the ba--bottom of this ladder.

What are you going to hold the bare bottom of? -- What if we get a customer? -- Then you'll have to go and serve.

What about the ladder? If I'm up it, leave it where it is, you silly beggar.

Who's going to hold it? I shall be all right once she opens her window.

There must be all sorts of little places that someone nimble can gain a finger hold, if my memory serves me correctly.

(GENTLE TAPPING) Oh.

Oh, dear.

All right.

I'm coming.

(KNOCKING) All right! Have you rung the doctor? You great fool! What? -- What are you doing up here? -- Just passing.

You have a bosom, Nurse Gladys, as soft as goose down.

-- Shut up, you fool! -- Of a size ideal for oven--ready chickens.

You dozy barnpot, waking me up like this.

I thought you were an expectant father.

I'm game if you are! Sshh! You'll wake me mother.

She already thinks you're a lunatic and she's right.

Look at the time.

You look at what you want.

I'll look at what I want! And that's just what I want there.

Right there.

Oh, careful! -- Where's Granville gone? -- In the shop.

You've got customers.

I came to say we're going to a wedding today, my love.

I know that, you great fool! It's not for hours yet.

Go home! I just wanted to check on your bread order.

Is it two large whites? No, it isn't.

It's a small farmhouse.

Oh, how romantic.

Nurse Gladys, I appeal to you -- Not at this time in the morning.

Go home! -- Don't shut it.

I'll fall! You'll be all right if you land on your wallet.

What's wrong? Take my advice -- never get your hand caught in a State Registered Nurse.

(ENGINE REVS) Sounds like old Bristow on his motorbike.

That's what I call a motorbike.

Wish I had one like that.

You have full use of the company vehicle.

Here he comes, look.

Tango Red Leader, bandits at nine o'clock! He looks like Action Man on his day off.

Morning, Mr Bristow.

Speak to yourself, Arkwright.

Do you ever get the feeling there's nobody inside there at all? -- Morning, Mr Bristow! --He's completely vacant in there.

Good morning, Mr Bristow! Morning, Mr B--B--B Bristow! (MUFFLED ) Shop! Anybody in there? Is there anybody in there? Hello, Mr Bristow.

(MUMBLING) What's he on about, Granville? (MUMBLING) I can't tell what he's on about.

Sounds like he's got his head stuck in a Russian wrestler's armpit.

See if you can see his lips move.

No, I can't see anything.

It's his visor.

It's tinted.

Why doesn't he open his lid? I think he is trying to open it, but it's not moving.

It must be stuck.

Stuck? Oh, dear, I hope he can breathe in there, Granville.

-- I expect he can breathe.

-- See if he's going a funny colour.

I can't see what colour he's going.

Through the visor, he looks black.

Black?! Get him out of here, come on.

Come on.

He'll be much happier on the pavement.

-- Why would he be happier on the pavement? -- Listen We are in peril, insurance--wise, if he dies on the premises.

See what I mean? His last words, hopelessly scrambled.

-- They're not his last words.

-- They are in here! He is not suffocating, it's just stuck.

You made him jerk his head back so fast, he jammed his visor.

-- Tell you what -- What are you going to do with that? I'm going to give it a little tap with that.

That'll loosen it.

Get your helmet on the counter.

-- That's right.

-- Come on, Mr Bristow.

I'm not going to do it that way round.

Have you seen me? There goes our regular order for half a dozen razor blades.

I'm not basically unattractive to women.

I'm small, but perfectly formed.

That's very useful.

You can get under them bottom shelves with your duster.

It says here that Scotland Yard are looking for a very small man with one eye.

If he's that small, you'd think they'd use both eyes.

I know nothing about women.

I wish me mother had kept a diary.

Only dull girls keep diaries.

The other kind don't get time.

You know that Mrs Bamforth at number 19? She's got 12 children.

Mrs Bamforth lives at number 12.

Well, she's got 19 children, then.

and an idler and a drunk.

Why would she want 19 children with him? She was hoping he'd get lost in the crowd! Keep away from there.

There's something slipshod about a woman who allows herself to have 19 children.

I don't know how he had time to go to work.

-- He didn't.

He was on National Assistance.

-- I'm surprised he wasn't on crutches! -- I bet she doesn't keep a diary.

-- Ay, ay.

Never mind daydreaming.

I don't want iron marks on those new trousers.

Don't worry.

They're easier to press than your old pair.

They were so shiny that ironing them was like taking a bobsleigh down the Cresta Run.

-- They were a bit slippery towards the end.

-- Towards both ends! All those years of rubbing up against Nurse Gladys Emmanuel.

What happened to that old suit? She made me give it to w*r On Want.

There's some poor native tribesman in North Africa at this very moment, no doubt, wearing a blue p--pinstripe suit, wondering why he keeps sliding off his camel.

Oh, dear.

I hate ironing your clothes.

You can hardly breathe for the smell of mothballs.

Why put mothballs in a new suit? You do know that you're the last person in England to use mothballs? That might please the average moth, but I don't see why you're crowing about it.

That warehouse is full of boxes of mothballs.

They're not shifting.

And you know why they're not shifting? Because nobody wants to buy mothballs any more.

Nobody buys mothballs any more because nobody sells mothballs to anyone any more.

You're one of the nobodies who's not selling mothballs to anyone any more! A decent shopkeeper should be able to sell anything he puts his mind to.

You've got to make people want them, create the desire for a decent mothball.

Anybody who gets near you at the wedding today will get all the mothballs he'll ever desire.

That's what we need.

More strategy and sales planning.

Instead of spending all morning undoing motorcyclists.

Mrs Fielding thought you were going to k*ll him! I felt like k*lling him when I found out all he wanted was a flint for his lighter! One flint! One flint! I had to split a pack, did you know that? He's leaving you on your own? Aye.

While he goes to the wedding.

-- Wedding? -- Aye.

With the nurse.

-- Her niece is getting married.

-- Well, she has my sympathy.

Come on, Mrs Blewitt.

Marriage can't be all that bad -- not at the beginning.

It's very depressing how people talk about all the things I'm looking forward to.

There must be some miracles left in life.

Oh, there is.

It's a miracle you haven't just poked my eye out with that Kn*fe! Sorry.

I shan't get boiled ham until your hand's steadier.

I can't afford boiled ham unless it's cut unemotionally.

-- Give me four of them teacakes.

-- Four teacakes, aye.

-- I'm safer with teacakes.

-- Right.

You can't go wrong with teacakes Oh, Granville! You're a bag of nerves! Yes, I know.

I'm sorry.

It's me age.

I've reached that stage when you're meant to be sexual tension and raw edges.

When you talk to people and they think you're weird.

Calm yourself, Granville.

Nobody thinks you're weird.

Yes, they do.

They do.

If you try to have a frank conversation about things that matter.

'Ere! I'm not having them.

They've been kicked all over the floor! No.

I'm not going to sell these to you, Mrs Blewitt.

That's unhygienic.

I'll sell these to Mrs Tattersall.

Why is it people can never communicate deeper than talking about the government, or will her at 17 find true happiness with her new fitted carpet? I don't think she stands a cat in hell's chance.

It clashes with her three--piece suite.

-- What she should have done -- There you go! Listen to you.

Mrs Blewitt, we have known each other for ages.

You have had seven children.

So you are a woman of wide human experience.

Not so damn wide.

They were all from the same stable.

But I respect your experience, Mrs Blewitt.

I'd be fascinated to hear about it.

All females to me are a magical mystery.

Don't be stupid, Granville! Give me a packet of them jam tarts.

Just explain to me why it is never possible for people just to talk to me.

-- Because you're weird.

-- There you are.

Because I'm weird.

Do you want any eggs? What's he on about? What's he getting at now? -- I just asked if you wanted some eggs.

-- Keep your eggs to yourself! What do you know about eggs at your age? Nothing.

That'll be 98 pence, please, Mrs Blewitt.

Keep the shelves well filled and don't let Mrs Henderson poke the bread.

Her index finger is very detrimental to a sliced loaf.

Which might explain the pained expression on the face of Mr Henderson.

She could go through a cabbage with it.

Be very nice to your customers, especially awkward ones like Mrs B--B--B Morning, Mrs B--Blewitt.

Are you sure these hair nets are invisible? I'll say they are, yes.

We ran out of them last Friday.

Since then I've sold 14.

-- 98 pence, please.

-- 98 pence.

-- 2p change.

-- A wedding, is it? -- Yes.

-- You're getting a regular gadabout.

That must be twice you've been out since 1976.

That reminds me.

Have you got a can of air freshener? -- Certainly, Mrs Blewitt.

-- You need it! No matter how carefully we all tread, Granville, marriage -- the great reaper -- comes to us all.

Even Mrs Blewitt went through it.

I think she thinks I'm effeminate.

Compared to her you probably are.

Another thing.

Do you realise that I have never been to a wedding? I know, I know.

Your mother had the same problem.

Hello? It's only me from over the sea, said B--B--B -- Is it Arkwright? -- How did you guess? Can I come in? Come in.

I shan't be a minute! Here, who's been buying sugar at the supermarket? You're betrothed to a private grocer and you're being unfaithful to me with the Co--op! -- It's your mother, isn't it? -- That's right, shout.

Wake her up.

-- Cor -- What's wrong? That does the heart of an old shopkeeper a lot of good.

-- Do you like it? -- Walk about a bit.

Lovely! You'd better handcuff me now, save a lot of arguments later, won't it? There won't be any arguments.

You're going to behave.

I'm not looking as if I've just been mauled by an escaped grocer.

You see a handsome woman in a dress like that, it makes you wish you were 20 years longeryounger! -- Whoo! -- Ooh! Keep away.

We should be looking for a little place together, but you keep knocking me hand away.

-- Mothballs.

-- Do you want to buy some? No, it's you.

You reek of mothballs.

I know.

That'll all blow away in the fresh air.

I'll make damn sure it does! -- I'm going numb.

-- Good.

I think I might like you numb.

Suppose it does irreparable damage to my grip? I should be so lucky! All right.

Put it on.

Have you got somewhere warm I can put this? Try the exhaust pipe! Best offer I've had all day.

-- Get in the car, you big idiot.

-- Hey, hey.

When are we going to go to our own wedding? -- Let's get this one over first.

-- It's not the same though.

-- Being a sp--spectator.

-- Have you thought about it? You must be joking? That's all I ever do -- think about it.

I'll show you how much I think about it.

I was in the shop the other day -- Promise not to repeat this.

-- Get on with it.

-- Promise.

-- Get on with it.

I was serving Mrs Ellis with six ounces of smoked bacon I love the association -- me and bacon.

-- You haven't heard the worst yet.

-- What did you do? I didn't realise till after she'd gone.

I let her walk out with six ounces of p--prime smoked bacon.

-- What had you done? -- Only charged her for four! Now what are you doing? I didn't know you were the kind of woman who keeps driving men into lay--bys.

(GLADYS) It's as bad as ever.

You can hardly breathe.

-- What are you doing with me trousers? -- They're worse than your jacket.

-- You'll have to take them off.

-- This is turning out quite a big day! They reek of mothballs.

Get them off and hang them out the window.

-- I can't do that.

-- Nobody's going to see you.

It's a quiet road.

Get them off and get a bit of breeze round them.

I can't stand out there taking my trousers off.

Someone might come past.

Well, take them off in here.

-- What are you going to be doing? -- You needn't worry.

I'm going to sit here.

I'm not likely to lose control over the sight of you in your underpants.

Doesn't seem natural just taking them off in cold blood.

Hurry up.

We haven't got all day.

Can't you turn your head away? Admire the view or something.

Heavens, man.

My entire working life's spent handling men with no trousers on.

That's something I can't help thinking about every time you pass me a boiled sweet.

-- Haven't you got them off yet? -- No, I haven't.

Have you ever tried taking your trousers off in a Morris Minor? Just shift that gear stick a bit or, better still, warm the handle.

-- Hang on, I'll put it in reverse.

-- No, no! If you make a mistake now, I'm in big trouble.

Let me get round this way a bit.

What are you laughing at? It's not funny, you know.

-- I hope nobody sees this.

-- Who's going to see it? Oh, good grief! -- What are you blushing for? -- What do you think I'm blushing for? They only saw you because you made such a great production of it.

I shan't be much more energetic than that on me own wedding day! I thought it was cold enough with me jacket off, but this is f--f--frightening.

I've got the heater on full blast.

I want you to promise me not even to think about marriage until I've regained full use of me f--faculties.

(HORN BEEPS) -- Now what? -- Well, I'm not missing the wedding.

.

.

and in the face of this congregation to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.

Which is an honourable estate instituted of God I warn you, don't try anything.

I'm on me guard because I've only got flimsy ones on.

I wish you wouldn't try to inflame me when I'm wearing these tight trousers.

They're still warm, you know, and getting warmer by the minute.

Just try and keep yourself in check.

I'll do me best.

I can't promise anything when you kneel down.

I might think me prayers have been answered.

All in all, it were a pretty interesting day out.

Pity we couldn't stay for the reception, but it would have been difficult for Gladys Emmanuel to have kept her coat on.

I did see her point Just briefly as she got in the car.

Mauve frills.

Just like an old--fashioned chocolate box.

Aye 'eck.

You'd certainly be spoilt for choice with that sort of weekend assortment.
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