|
|
 |
Quincey
Gardens - Saturday morning. Crack of dawn. Tommy Wray is coming
off night shift, 10 ’til 6. He’s got his Saturday planned. Head
down for a couple of hours, then off to the Big Match.
Harry Carson is shifting empties outside the Black Bull.
TOMMY:
What do you reckon for this aft, Harry? HARRY: City by one goal.
Guaranteed.
Tommy’s strolling down the Gardens when he clocks Kelly Nayler
sneaking out of Number 10. She’s got young Brandon in his chair.
She’s got bags. She’s got a heavy suitcase. Tommy’s been around.
He knows a moonlight when he sees one.
TOMMY: Come off it, Kelly love. Things can’t be that bad, surely?
KELLY: They’ve put me rent up – the Kineallys. The Social won’t
pay. If I don’t get out under me own steam, Eddie’ll send Craig
round with the lads.
TOMMY: They can’t do that.
KELLY: Who’s going to stop ’em?
TOMMY: But … where will you go? KELLY: Dunno. There’s me gran, I
suppose, but she’s only got a one-bed flat. I don’t care. I’d sooner
kip on the street than cross the Kineallys.
TOMMY: Look, love. Do me a favour. Come and have a word with Rita.
She’ll know what to do. KELLY: Well… Can’t hurt, I suppose.
TOMMY: That’s the spirit. Hey up, Brandon. What do you reckon for
the match?
BRANDON: Two-nil to City. No probs.
Later, at the Bully… Harry is trying to fix a huge widescreen
TV in the bar, ready for the Big Match. Jade is supposed to be helping
but – as usual – she’s got her head in a book.
HARRY: Jade – can you see a picture?
JADE: Hmm?
HARRY: Can you see a picture? JADE: Where? HARRY: On the TV. Are
you reading? You’re supposed to be helping me.
JADE: Sorry… Er, I think I can see a picture… HARRY: Great. What
of?
JADE: The news. No – wait – it could be Ren and Stimpy.
HARRY: You know, Jade, as my only daughter I love you dearly. But
as a TV repairman’s assistant, you leave a lot to be desired.
JADE: I think you should call a real repairman, dad.
HARRY: Have some faith, love.
Trish stamps up the stairs from the cellar, a crate full of bottles
jingling.
 |
| Harry
and Trish Carson run The Bully |
TRISH:
Harry Carson, I have just bottled up both bars and filled the crisps.
Before that, I cleaned the tables – where, incidentally, one of
your valued regulars has burned a huge hole in the varnish – and
paid Sid Jones for his veg. You on the other hand have played with
your new toy. Now I think you should get out from behind that TV
and do the optics.
HARRY: Love, I promised the regulars they could watch the game on
the new set. If I don’t get this going there are going to be some
very disappointed punters.
TRISH: If you don’t do the optics, there are going to be some very
dry punters.
The TV goes BANG!
JADE: Definitely no picture now.
TRISH: Sometimes I could swing for the pair of you.
JADE: Mum, are you cooking today?
TRISH: Yes, but not for you two. If you want anything, get it yourself.
JADE: OK. Bacon butty, dad?
HARRY: Oh, you are my little girl all right.
TRISH: No bacon.
JADE: I’ll nip round to Quick’s.
Jade heads off to the Quick Shop, whistling happily.
HARRY: I’ll do the optics, then I think I will call a repairman.
Oh – did I tell you I think young Kelly is leaving?
TRISH: Good. She’s a right slapper that one. HARRY: I think she’s
quite nice.
TRISH: Only because she’s always chatting you up and showing off
her assets. No, good riddance to bad rubbish. Always in here, mooching
drinks off people.
HARRY: You’re being a bit hard, love. It can’t be easy for the poor
girl. I think she was doing a moonlight.
TRISH: Typical.
HARRY: I hope she gets away sharpish. The Kineallys own that dump
she lived in and they are not to be messed with. When I was on the
force, we spent months trying to nick them. Did I ever tell you
about when we raided their warehouse…? TRISH: Harry, shut up and
do the optics.
HARRY: Yes, love.
Meanwhile, at the Quick Shop…
NEVILLE: You’re sure you’ll be all right on your own for an hour
or two, Renee?
RENEE: Yeah, yeah. It’s not like we’re going to be packed out, is
it? Everybody’ll be watching the footie.
DEAN: Well, it is Man U.
RENEE: And City are going to get hammered. NEVILLE: We’ll have none
of that talk, thank you very much. And while you’re about it, why
don’t you pop home and put on something less… I mean, something
more…
RENEE: If you don’t like my style, get some other mug to watch your
shop for £4.50 an hour. DEAN: I like your style, Renee.
RENEE: In your dreams, muppet.
The bell over the shop door tinkles. Jade Carson wafts in like a
breath of fresh air.
NEVILLE: Morning, Jade. What can we do for you?
JADE: A pack of bacon, please, Mr Quick. And half a dozen of your
best baps.
DEAN: I’ll get them for you, Jade.
JADE: Thanks, Dean.
 |
| Jade
shells out at Quick's and brings home the bacon |
NEVILLE:
That’ll be £2.63, please, Jade. £2.60 for cash.
Neville rings up the sale. Dean bags Jade’s groceries.
JADE: You going to the match, Mr Quick? NEVILLE: Oh yes. We’ve got
season tickets, me and Dean.
JADE: I hope it goes well. I don’t know what’s going to happen at
our place. Dad’s blown up the telly. Bye!
The bell over the shop door tinkles as Jade leaves. Neville might
be old enough to be Jade’s grandfather, but he can’t quite suppress
a sigh of admiration.
NEVILLE: Now that’s the sort of girl you should be setting your
sights on, Dean.
DEAN: Yeah. In my dreams…
A few minutes later, out the back of the Bully… Trish is fiddling
with her mobile phone.
TRISH: Bloody thing…
The phone gives off a series of sad beeps No battery… Great.
Jade returns from the Quick Shop, still whistling. JADE:
Still not got the hang of that yet, mum? Here – use mine.
TRISH: Thanks. How do you send a text message then?
JADE: Push here, here and here – and type away. Trish texts her
message. Do you want a bacon sandwich, mum?
|
| Has
Trish has given the game away? |
TRISH:
I certainly do not. I like to look after myself. Here’s your phone
back. Now, if you are going to make that food, hurry up. Your dad
has work to do.
Trish clatters off across the yard in her high heels. Jade’s phone
beeps: New message
JADE: Who’s this from then? What sort of a message is that? Must
be a reply to mum’s. I wonder what she sent? Now, Jade, that is
a private message and you should just delete it. Oops, I opened
it instead…
Tea is served while Ronnie - one very hairy, very fat and very
smug-looking cat - look on
|
| Tea
and sympathy at Rita's |
RITA:
There you go, Kelly love. Get that down you. You sure you won’t
have a glass of orange, Brandon?
BRANDON: I only drink sports drinks.
TOMMY: I’ll have a look downstairs. I daresay that keep-fit lot
have a secret stash. Tommy goes. We can hear him, clumping down
the stairs.
KELLY: What am I going to do, Reet?
RITA: Well there’s a housing officer does a surgery first thing
Monday morning. In the meantime I suppose you could stop here… Ronnie!
Leave Brandon alone!
KELLY: I couldn’t, Reet…
RITA: It’s not a problem, honest.
KELLY: No. I can’t. It’s just not possible. It took two of us to
get Brandon’s chair up here and – no offence, Reet – there’s the
cat.
RITA: Ronnie?
KELLY: Cat hair wreaks havoc with Brandon’s breathing.
RITA: Ah… I see… I don’t mind making Tommy kip on the couch for
a night or two. But Ronnie – he’s very set in his ways.
Back at the Bully…
JADE: Bacon butties all round.
HARRY: Ooh, thanks, princess.
JADE: Dad, stop calling me that. I’m 16, not six. HARRY: You will
always be my little princess. JADE: Honestly. You’re a saddo, you
are.
HARRY: Sad, as in the best father in the world. JADE: No, just sad
as in embarrassing. Dad, what does doing a moonlight mean?
HARRY: Oh, you overheard that, did you?
JADE: Well, sort of. Actually, mum sent a text message on my phone
and forgot to delete it. HARRY: Let me see that… "Kelly doing moonlight…"
Oh, Trish, sometimes I could strangle you.
JADE: What’s wrong, dad?
HARRY: Your mother, princess. She’s what’s wrong. There’s someone
at the door. It’s the TV repairman.
REPAIRMAN: Morning, squire. I’m here about the TV.
HARRY: That was quick.
REPAIRMAN: You’re lucky I came at all. If I can’t fix it quick,
then I’m not fixing it. I’m off home to watch the match.
HARRY: Jade, show him where the set is. I need to nip across the
Gardens and see Rita. REPAIRMAN: Did this go bang?
JADE: Yes. Dad blew it up. Before that it was all fuzzy.
HARRY: I won’t be long, love. Do me a favour – don’t tell mum where
I’ve gone.
REPAIRMAN: Right, squire. That’ll be £30 for the call out
and I’ll be back Monday.
HARRY: What?
REPAIRMAN: You need a new part. I can’t get you a new part till
Monday.
HARRY: Monday’s no good. I need this TV by three o’clock this afternoon.
REPAIRMAN: Not happening, sorry. The nearest stockist is down in
Rugby and the set still needs an hour’s work on the damage you did
before I can fit it. An hour’s drive plus an hour’s work adds up
to me missing the kick-off. And I haven’t even had my breakfast
yet.
HARRY: Do you need the part to do the other work?
REPAIRMAN: No, but it’s not going to work without the part. An hour’s
drive plus an hour’s work means---
HARRY: ---you miss the kick-off. But not if I go get the part for
you.
REPAIRMAN: Well, I suppose… But I still haven’t eaten.
HARRY: Have a bacon butty. Jot down the part you need.
REPAIRMAN: OK, but if it gets close to kick-off, I’m downing tools.
Right?
HARRY: Right. Princess, your mum’s having a kip so leave her be.
JADE: OK, dad.
REPAIRMAN: One other thing, squire. I’m on double time as of five
minutes ago.
HARRY: You thieving little--- OK.
Right. Fine.
JADE: Dad, what about---?
HARRY: Not now, love. No time.
JADE: But you said you wanted to see---
HARRY: Whatever it is will have to wait.
And Harry’s out the door, leaving Jade to conclude---
JADE: Oh well. Can’t have been that important …
Meanwhile,
on the stairs leading up to Tommy and Rita’s flat… Tommy comes clumping
back up the stairs – only to find young Brandon sitting on the landing.
TOMMY: There you go, Brandon mate. One super-fizzy, glucose-rich,
nasty sticky sports drink, as drunk by David Beckham himself … apparently.
BRANDON: I’ve gone off Becks. Since he signed for Madrid.
TOMMY: Yeah, it would have been great to see him at the Walker’s.
But there’s always Philip Neville.
BRANDON: Yeah. Right.
TOMMY: What you doing stuck out on the landing, anyway? Been relegated
to the bench, have you?
BRANDON: Don’t say ‘relegated’, Tommy. Not when City are playing
Man U.
TOMMY: No. Point taken.
BRANDON: My mam made me come out here. She reckons I’m allergic
to Ronnie.
TOMMY: Really? Wish I’d thought of that.
It’s
early doors at the Bully… And time is running out.
TRISH: Your dad had better be back soon. REPAIRMAN: Yes, your dad
had better be back soon.
TRISH: You just keep working.
JADE: Don’t worry. He’ll be here.
TRISH: You’d believe your dad if he told you he’d been to the moon.
The first punter through the door is old Sam Coverdale. Sam only
lives round the corner on De Grey Street, third house on the left,
but he still arrives puffing and wheezing.
SAM: Morning, Tina, Jude. Here, that TV going to be fixed for the
game?
TRISH: Our names are Trish and Jade and yes, the TV will be fixed.
REPAIRMAN: Not unless your hubby puts his pedal to the metal.
TRISH: Work, you.
SAM: Only if the TV isn’t working for the game I’ll have to take
my custom elsewhere.
TRISH: Sam, you’ve been coming in this pub and sitting on that same
bar stool since 1964. In fact, the only time you didn’t come in,
the other regulars were so worried they came round to your place
looking for you.
SAM: I was with a young lady.
TRISH: Sam, you’re 72. You were with an old lady. Here, have a rum
on me.
Next through the door is "Keef" Holloway, resplendent in his blue
suede shoes.
KEEF: Hey up, Trish. The googlebox going to up and running for the
United game?
REPAIRMAN: I wouldn’t put money on it.
SAM: I got a free drink when I asked.
KEEF: Harry promised me the match in widescreen and what-do-you-call-it
soundaround. I’ve been a Red Devil since before it were fashionable.
If I can’t get my Saturday fix, I might have consider… What’s that
you said about a free drink, granddad?
TRISH: The TV will be working. Now, can I get you ‘gentlemen’ anything?
Drinks? Crisps? Sandwiches? A good slapping for moaning about the
TV?
SAM: I’ll have the same again, please, Tina.
At 13b, Tommy is ready to go..
TOMMY: Right. That’s me ready for the off. RITA: What do you fancy
for your tea?
TOMMY: City win, I’ll be bringing home fish and chips. City lose,
I expect it’ll be liver. See you later, Brandon. Ta-ra, Kelly.
Tommy clumps off down the stairs.
KELLY: We’d best be making tracks too, I suppose.
RITA: But where will you go?
KELLY: I dunno. I could ask round the Gardens. There’s old Mrs Wallwalk.
She’s on her own. RITA: That’s a bit drastic, isn’t it?
KELLY: I’m not exactly overwhelmed with options.
RITA: Just hold your horses and let me think. I can never clear
my head when Tommy’s around. BRANDON: Rita?
RITA: Yes, love?
BRANDON: What does Tommy eat if City draw? RITA: His woolly hat,
usually.
Suddenly, the sound of hammering out in the Gardens.
Rita: What the---?
The hammering is very loud. And Tommy knows exactly what is going
on. The Kineally Brothers are boarding up No 10.
TOMMY: What the---? Eddie? What d’you think you’re doing?
EDDIE: Protecting my property. A little bird tells me the tenant
has – what’s the word I’m looking for, Craig?
CRAIG: Scarpered.
EDDIE: Absconded owing rent. Leaving the property vulnerable to
vandalism, squatters and who knows what else. You get a rough element
round here these days. Right, Craig?
CRAIG: Not if I find out, you don’t.
TOMMY: How d’you know she hasn’t just nipped round to Quick’s? Or
gone into town?
EDDIE: Call it landlord’s intuition.
TOMMY: Even so, you can’t just barricade the joint up like a… a…
EDDIE: Really? And who’s going to stop us? CRAIG: Are you going
to stop us, Tommy? No. Didn’t think so.
The hammering resumes, even louder--- ---so loud, you can hear it
in the bar at the Bully.
TRISH: What now?
JADE: I’ll go and look.
REPAIRMAN: I might as well pack up. You’ll never hear the game over
that racket.
TRISH: No – wait. Look, let me get you a drink. REPAIRMAN: Not for
me. I’ve a match to watch. On a TV that works.
TRISH: Go on, just a quick one. What will it cost you?
REPAIRMAN: It’s you it’s costing, missus. I’m on double time. Go
on then, I’ll have a pint.
SAM: They’ve got strippers down at the Shovel, you know. Proper
women, with meat on their bones.
KEEF: Yeah, but what sort of meat, granddad? I can get all the mutton
I want at home.
TRISH: Can you see what’s happening, Jade? JADE: It’s the Kineally
twins, boarding up Number 10 and arguing the toss with Tommy Wray.
KEEF: Ah… Talking of home, I’ve just got to nip back for a sec.
JADE: Dad’s just pulled up in his car. He’s going across to sort
them out.
TRISH: Oh no…
KEEF: Erm… couldn’t use your back door, I suppose, Trish?
TRISH: Certainly not. Jade – what’s your fool father doing now?
What Harry is doing is having a word with the Kineallys…
HARRY: Well, well. What a surprise. Eddie and Craig. The Chuckle
Brothers.
EDDIE: This has got nothing to do with you, Carson.
HARRY: You know Kelly has rights as a tenant? EDDIE: Yeah well,
I’ve got rights too.
HARRY: You do indeed, son. You should make sure you follow the due
process. That’s why we have a legal system. So I suggest you take
down those boards.
CRAIG: You’re not a copper no more. You can’t push us around.
JADE: Dad, you OK?
HARRY: Fine, love. Take this to the TV bloke. JADE: Yeah, but---
HARRY: Now, princess.
EDDIE: That’s a good-looking girl you have there, Harry. Maybe I
should ask her out. Before Eddie knows what’s happening, Harry has
him pinned up against the door of No 10.
HARRY: Stay away from my daughter.
CRAIG: Let Eddie go. Let him go, Carson, or I’ll bloody have you.
HARRY: Think you’re up to it, Craig? Think you can take me on? I
used to take down scum like you all the time when I was on the force.
EDDIE: Only you’re not on the force now, are you, Harry? You’re
not the law anymore.
HARRY: As far as you two are concerned, I will always be the law
round here.
CRAIG: Let Eddie go. Now. Harry releases his grip on Eddie’s lapels.
HARRY: Wouldn’t dirty my hands. But I’ll be watching you two.
EDDIE: We make bad enemies, Harry.
HARRY: So do I. As Harry turns and walks away… Craig clocks a vision
in drainpipe trousers and brothel creepers, sneaking round the side
of the pub.
CRAIG: Oi! Shaking Stevens! A word.
KEEF: Craig, mate! Didn’t see you standing there. CRAIG: I’m not
your bloody mate. And you can call me mister.
KEEF: Got ya, Craig mate. What can I do for you, Mister Kineally?
CRAIG: It’s not what you can do. It’s what you’ve not done. You’ve
not been buying nicked phones again, have you?
KEEF: Me, Mister K? I wouldn’t. I couldn’t – not till me giro comes
through.
CRAIG: So it wasn’t you sent us the text message?
KEEF: Nothing to do with me, boss, I swear. CRAIG: But it should
have been you, Keef. You useless waste of space, that’s what we
pay you for!
KEEF: Craig – mate – keep your voice down! The Social’s got ears
everywhere. For all we know they’ve bugged the Gardens.
CRAIG: I’ll bug you, you scrounging bloody--- Craig doesn’t finish
the threat. He’s spotted Rita Wray, joining the rumpus outside No
10…
RITA: Making an exhibition of yourself again, are you, Eddie? You
always were a little devil for tantrums.
EDDIE: Keep your nose out, Rita. This is business.
RITA: Really? Does your dad know about this then? After all, he
does still own the business, doesn’t he? Perhaps I should give him
a call. CRAIG: He’s not in.
RITA: No, I expect he’s already left for the match. Season ticket
holder, isn’t he? But that’s not a problem. I’ve got his mobile
number.
CRAIG: Don’t you---
EDDIE: Leave it, Craig. We’ve done what we came to do. We’ll let
the proper authorities take it from here. But let me just make one
thing crystal clear to you, Mrs High-and-bloody-Mighty.
RITA: What’s that, Eddie?
EDDIE: The Social case and the cripple, they’re never setting foot
inside this house again. I’ll burn it down first.
So
what do you think of it so far? Email
in your story suggestions.
|
