The Royle Family: The Scripts: Series 2 Read online

  Twiggy:

  I like Dale Winton, me.

  Antony/Dave/Jim:

  Whoooooooohh! (LIMP WRISTS)

  Denise:

  Do you know who’s got a nursery in Hello magazine, exactly like what I’d love, you know Jane Seymour when she had them twins.

  Barbara:

  Ooh.

  Denise:

  And do you know what she’d done, right, she’s painted all these animals on it, you know, like a zoo and then she’s stuck real toy monkeys on top of it. It looks absolutely gorgeous.

  Jim:

  Well we just stuck a mirror on the wall in Antony’s room and then he could see his own monkey’s arse any time he wanted to.

  Barbara:

  Well I think it sounds lovely what she’s done, Denise, are ya going to do the same?

  Denise:

  I don’t know yet. I can’t have any ideas for our nursery ‘cause he won’t move that moped out of there.

  Dave:

  Bloody ‘ell, here we go again.

  Jim:

  I hope Hello don’t come round unexpected, they’ll think they’ve gone to Barry Sheen’s.

  Nana:

  Dale Winton’s wardrobes were lovely. Do you know they were specially made to fit in with his busy lifestyle. He worked very closely with the designer on them.

  Jim:

  I’ll bet he bloody did. That’s why he got all them wardrobes for free. I could get all sorts of free wardrobes if I got up to all that malarky.

  Barbara:

  Jim! Why can’t you just feel happy for somebody’s fitted wardrobes?

  Twiggy:

  He’s a cracking show host, Winton, y’know.

  Barbara:

  Yeah.

  Antony:

  Any more of that tinned fruit, Mam?

  Barbara:

  I’m not opening another tin just for you.

  Twiggy:

  Oh well, if you are opening one Barbara…

  Barbara:

  I haven’t got another tin, Twiggy. I only said it for Antony. Right then, who wants a cup of tea.

  All:

  Yeah.

  Barbara:

  Put the kettle on, Antony.

  Twiggy:

  Here y’a Barbara, have a ciggy.

  Barbara:

  Oh, thanks Twiggy. Eh, Antony, don’t forget, Nana likes a china cup.

  Antony:

  I know.

  Twiggy:

  Ey, that was gorgeous, Barbara. I’ll be round next week.

  BARBARA AND TWIGGY LIGHT UP.

  Denise:

  Mam, give us a little drag of that ciggy.

  Dave:

  No.

  Denise:

  I’m only asking for a little drag.

  Dave:

  No.

  Denise:

  Oh, one little drag on a Sunday dinner’s not gonna harm it.

  Dave:

  Course it is. Any smokin’s bound to harm it.

  Denise:

  Oh, I’ll tell you what, right Dave, I’ll do everything for this baby. I’ll carry it on me own for nine months, no smoking, no drinking…

  Dave:

  No drinking?

  Denise:

  Yeah well. Hardly any. Yeah well, what about you? You can’t even be arsed to move that moped out of the box-room to make it into a nursery. Will you tell him, Mam?

  Barbara:

  Oh, don’t bring me into it. I’m not getting involved.

  Denise:

  It’s all right for you, Dave. Your life hasn’t even changed since I’ve been having this baby. You just do everything like what you’ve always done, a load of boozing down the pub.

  Jim:

  Ah, bloody ‘ell love, what’s wrong with you? Dave works bloody hard all week, he’s entitled to a little drink on a Sunday.

  Nana:

  Well I don’t think so.

  Jim:

  Bloody ‘ell, listen to who’s talking. You love a bloody drink.

  Nana:

  No I do not. I just have a sherry at Christmas…

  Jim:

  I know, champagne at weddings and so and so…Bloody ‘ell, Norma.

  Nana:

  Tell him, Barbara.

  Barbara:

  Jim.

  Nana:

  I knew a couple who split up last week. Just because he spent too much time in the pub.

  Denise:

  See.

  Barbara:

  Well, which couple’s this?

  Nana:

  On Kilroy.

  Jim:

  Bloody ‘ell, do you see what I’m up against, Twiggy. Bloody Kilroy Silk, ey, bloody orange gob. How’s that tea going, Antony?

  Antony:

  It’s coming.

  Denise:

  I’m not dropping it, Dave. You’re getting rid of that bike.

  Twiggy:

  What kind of bike is it, Dave? I’ll shift it for you.

  Dave:

  I can’t part with it, Twiggy, you know. It’s not the money.

  Twiggy:

  What is it?

  Dave:

  We’ll, I’ve had it since I was sixteen, you know…

  Twiggy:

  No, the bike you clown.

  Dave:

  It’s a Yamaha FS1E.

  Twiggy:

  What, an old Fizzy?

  Dave:

  Yeah.

  Twiggy:

  I can shift that for you, no danger.

  Denise:

  Ah, can you Twiggy? That’d be brilliant.

  Dave:

  Ey, it’s my bike. Bloody ‘ell, what if you go into labour, want rushing to the hospital.

  Jim:

  The bloody baby’ll be reading before you put that bike together again.

  Denise:

  Do you know, ever since I’ve met him that bike’s been in bits. It used to be in bits at his mam’s house in the dining room. Now it’s in bits in our box-room.

  Nana:

  D’you know, Twiggy, I’ve never been on a motorbike in my whole life.

  Jim:

  Bloody ‘ell, Norma, is there any form of transport you have been on?

  Nana:

  I’ve been on a boat on the lake in Pickmere. We were only supposed to have it out half an hour, but we had it a good forty minutes. Ooh, he was frosty when we took it back.

  Barbara:

  Who was frosty?

  Nana:

  Well the bloke in charge of the boats. Apparently he’d called out our number and we’d forgotten what our number was! I can’t remember what number it was now.

  Jim:

  Well try and bloody think will you love, ‘cause I won’t be able to sleep unless I know.

  Nana:

  Well, I’ll say it was forty-something, but I can’t quite remember.

  Jim:

  Well what’s a bloody boat in Pickmere go to do with Dave’s bike? D’ya see what I mean, Twiggy? Come again next week for your dinner lad, the conversation’s always as riveting. Bloody ‘ell.

  Twiggy:

  I’ll tell you what, I’ll pop round tomorrow, Dave, and give you a price for that.

  Dave:

  I don’t know about that, Twigg.

  Denise:

  I do. We’re getting rid of that bike. Oh no, I’m putting my foot down. It’s bad Feng Shui to have a bike in bits in your box-room.

  Jim:

  Feng Shui my arse.

  Barbara:

  Good for you, Denise.

  Antony:

  You know what, I reckon you should keep that bike, Dave. Yeah, I do yeah.

  Denise:

  It’s nothing to do with you, Antony. Shut your big fat gob, you big fat pig. Mam, will you tell him?

  Barbara:

  Haven’t we heard enough about this stupid bike.

  DENISE AND DAVE LOOK DAGGERS AT EACH OTHER.

  PAUSE.

  Nana:

  I have been on a train
once or twice, but do you know, Twiggy, my favourite mode of transportation…

  Jim:

  Is a bloody broomstick.

  Barbara:

  Jim!

  Nana:

  Ignore him, Barbara. A coach. I like it all, me: the camaraderie, the singing, the whip-round for the driver, the toilet stops…People don’t get coaches nowadays.

  Jim:

  No. They’re frightened in case you get on the bloody thing.

  Nana:

  Oh, shut up.

  Antony:

  Here y’a, Nana.

  Nana:

  Oh, ta love.

  Twiggy:

  Oh, ta lad.

  Nana:

  Barbara, I’ll be going home straight after this meal.

  Barbara:

  You not staying for the afternoon, Mam?

  Nana:

  Well I’m hoping I’ll need the toilet in about half an hour and I’d rather go home to my own toilet. Nowhere like your own toilet, is there, Twiggy?

  Barbara:

  Do you know, that’s all we’ve had this mealtime. Toilet talk.

  Jim:

  Yeah, but we’re only going through the motions.

  Nana:

  Oh, David, I’ll need you to take me home. I’ve got a couple of little jobs I’d like you to look at. (THEY ALL LAUGH) I don’t mean that. I wouldn’t show David, it’s bad enough showing Elsie.

  Barbara:

  What, Elsie next door?

  Nana:

  Well, her sister’s a nurse.

  PAUSE.

  Dave:

  So what is it you want me to do, Nana?

  Nana:

  Well I’d like you to look at me iron, David, and I’ve got a tap dripping in the bathroom.

  Dave:

  Oh sound, I’ll sort that out.

  Denise:

  Cheers, Dave, yeah. Sort everyone else’s houses out.

  PAUSE.

  Nana:

  Ooh Barbara, did I tell ya, Elsie’s having a shower fitted. She can’t get out the bath now for love nor money. Her son-in-law’s paying for it and he paid for all the tiling that she had done as well.

  Jim:

  Soft bugger.

  Nana:

  He’s very good to her is her son-in-law. Treats her with a lot of respect.

  Twiggy:

  Right, I’ll be getting off. Cracking dinner that, Barbara.

  Barbara:

  You’re very welcome Twiggy. Any time.

  Twiggy:

  Pleasure to see you, Norma, as ever. I’ll pop round tomorrow, Dave, and have a look at your Fizzy.

  Dave:

  Aye, all right pal. I’ll sort out the baby’s room.

  Barbara:

  Aah, Dave.

  Denise:

  See ya, Twiggy.

  Twiggy:

  Ey, don’t you go overdoing it, girl.

  Jim:

  Oh, there’s no danger of that is there.

  All:

  See ya, Twiggy.

  TWIGGY GOES.

  Antony:

  See ya, Twigg.

  Dave:

  See ya, Twigg.

  Jim:

  Ta-da, pal. One greedy scrounging get that fella, in’t he. What a bloody brass neck, fancy coming back here for his Sunday dinner.

  Dave:

  You asked him, Jim.

  Jim:

  I know, but I didn’t think he’d say yes.

  Barbara:

  Do you know, Jim! You’ve got more faces than the town hall clock.

  Nana:

  And every one of em’s miserable.

  EVERYONE CHEERS.

  Jim:

  I tell you what, I’ll give you that one, Norma.

  Nana:

  And every one of em’s miserable!

  Jim:

  All right, don’t bloody milk it.

  Nana:

  Oh, you know what, I reckon that hot tea’s beginning to work me. I won’t want you to take me home, David. I’ll go and have a try now and, eh, if it’s all right, I’ll be able to stay this afternoon Barbara.

  Jim:

  Ah, fantastic news.

  Barbara:

  Shall I get you a paper, Mam?

  Nana:

  Oh, yes please, love. I’d like to take the People and, ‘em, and the News of the World and, ‘em, have you got that free newspaper, I like looking at that. Ah, ta love.

  Jim:

  Bloody ‘ell Norma, how constipated are you, girl? You’ve got half of bloody Fleet Street under your arm, haven’t ya. Eh, if the world’s press could see you now. Anyway, give us a shout when you’re finished.

  Nana:

  Why, do you want it after me, Jim?

  Jim:

  No, I want to phone Dyno-Rod.

  JIM FLICKS THE REMOTE.

  END OF EPISODE TWO.

  Episode 3

  Pregnancy

  BARBARA AND JIM WATCH TV.

  Barbara:

  Ooh. Ainsley Harriott’s bathroom. Oh Jim, put BBC on – it’s Changing Rooms.

  Jim:

  I’m watching that.

  Barbara:

  You’re not, you’re reading the paper.

  Jim:

  Yes, I’m reading the paper, but I’m listening to that.

  Barbara:

  No, put Changing Rooms on.

  Jim:

  (TUTS) Bloody ‘ell, what did your last slave die of? (HE PRESSES THE REMOTE) Bloody ‘ell, if you call that entertainment, watching a Cockney knocking nails into plywood, I don’t know, is that what it’s come to?

  Barbara:

  Shut up, Jim.

  Jim:

  Hard to believe it. Look at him, the bloody old nancy-boy tie-dyeing the neighbour’s bloody curtains…I’m glad We don’t pay our licence fee, that’s all I can say.

  Barbara:

  We do. I pay it.

  Jim:

  You what?

  Barbara:

  Jim, they’ve got detector vans now.

  Jim:

  Detector vans, my arse.

  Barbara:

  Ooh, they come and park outside your house, they even know which programme you’re watching.

  Jim:

  Yes well, they wouldn’t charge us if they knew we were watching that shite. Bloody Changing bloody Rooms. More like changing bloody channels.

  Barbara:

  Well I like seeing people’s houses get done up. It’s very popular is this, Jim.

  Jim:

  Why don’t they do an hour and a half’s film of me emul-sioning the bloody box-room?

  Barbara:

  Huh! When was the last time you did any decorating?

  Jim:

  Well I’m waiting for them Changing Room clowns, aren’t I? Eh? Like them two there, they’re doing bugger all, just sitting on their arses.

  Barbara:

  I’d be ashamed to let anybody come to this house.

  PAUSE. THEY WATCH – WE SEE LAWRENCE.

  Jim:

  I wouldn’t let old nancy-boy round here for a kick-off.

  Barbara:

  Ooh. I think I might stencil our kitchen unit.

  Jim:

  Stencil my arse. (POINTS) He would, there’s nothing he’d like better than to stencil my arse.

  Barbara:

  I wish he would. That’d keep you quiet.

  Jim:

  Um. Nothing he’d like better.

  Barbara:

  D’you know, Jim, you’ve no imagination, this house could be lovely.

  Jim:

  Why what’s wrong with it? It’s like a bloody show-home, isn’t it?

  Barbara:

  Um!

  DOOR GOES.

  Jim:

  Quick! Hide the telly, Barb, it might be a detector van.

  BARBARA GOES TO THE DOOR.

  Jim:

  Smillie my arse.

  Denise:

  Hiya.

  Barbara:

  Hiya, you all
right.

  Denise:

  Yeah, you all right.

  Barbara:

  Yeah.

  Denise:

  Aah.

  Barbara:

  Hiya.

  Dave:

  Y’all right, Barbara.

  Barbara:

  Y’all right, Dave.

  Jim:

  Bloody ‘ell, that’s the last thing we want. Torvill and Dean back again. Eh?

  DENISE AND DAVE COME IN, SAY ‘HIYA’ AND SIT DOWN.

  Denise:

  Hiya, Dad.

  Jim:

  Sit down kids!

  Dave:

  Hiya, Jim.

  Jim:

  I haven’t seen you two since, em? When was the last time I saw you two? Must have been last night, wasn’t it? Bloody ‘ell. Anyway, don’t sit still for too long or your mother will bloody stencil ya!

  Denise:

  Oh, is it Changing Rooms?

  Barbara:

  Yeah.

  Denise:

  Oh, I love this.

  Barbara:

  Yeah, so do I.

  PAUSE.

  Barbara:

  Ooh, Denise. Ooh, I like those. Oh. Aren’t they lovely.

  Denise:

  Do you?

  Barbara:

  Yeah. Catalogue?

  Denise:

  Market, £7.99.

  Barbara:

  Oh ey, Jim, market, £7.99. Oh you are with it our Denise. Oh God, Denise, I nearly forgot, you’ve been for your ante-natal?

  Denise:

  Oh yeah.

  Barbara:

  How did you get on?

  Denise:

  Well, it was all a bit weird really. This midwife woman what was running it, she said that we had to talk a bit about our partners, and our partners had to talk a bit about us.

  JIM’S FACE.

  Barbara:

  What did Dave say about you?

  Denise:

  Well he just said that I was pregnant.

  Jim:

  Bloody ‘ell. That must have been a shock for the rest of the ante-natal class, wasn’t it? Bloody ‘ell.

  THEY ALL LAUGH.

  Denise:

  I didn’t really know what to say about Dave. I just said about you know his disco and about the removals that he does ‘n’ that. But there isn’t much else to say about him really.

  Barbara:

  No.

  Dave:

  No.

  Denise:

  Oh yeah, and I said about how long we’d been together.

  Dave:

  How long is it now?

  Denise:

  Five years.

  Dave:

  Five years, yeah.

  Jim:

  Bloody ‘ell, they must have been clinging on to every word were they?

  Barbara:

  You’re a sarcastic sod, you are, Jim.

  Jim:

  I’m not. I bet you people were just glad they were out there able to see them instead of being stuck in here watching bloody paint dry like that.

  Denise:

  What’s up with you, crabby arse?

  Barbara:

  Take no notice of him, Denise. He’s been like this all day.