Be very scared.
It's a difficult decision.
You've bloody well done it again.
I was keeping him out, you idiot.
One is allowed to make a mistake on occasion.
One is not. One is supposed to stop bloody Justin
ruining us again.
Gentlemen, what happened to fair play?
It died the day you were born.
Last domino.
Spawn of the devil.
I can't go!
That must be uncomfortable.
I suppose I better, then.
Come on, come on, pay up.
To them that hath shall be given.
There you are, bloated capitalist pig.
Don't hate the player, hate the game.
No, no, I like the game.
Drinks, anyone?
Whilst you're up, Chris.
Guys, sorry, there's a bit of a glitch.
Run out of beer?
Yes.
A pump without beer,
now there's an interesting concept.
Is everything all right?
It's fine, it's just another cock-up with the delivery.
- Won't happen again. - Don't worry.
I'm feeling flush. Let's have a bottle
of their second cheapest claret.
I want beer.
My mother always says I want and never get.
Exactly.
We'll have some cashews, as well, please.
Oh, in that case, yes.
You to me.
Good night?
They ran out of beer.
How awful.
Something's not right.
Did you win?
98 pence down.
Poor darling. Is it Justin again?
I've worked out what it is.
When he goes home first and has a little slurp with supper,
he's easy meat.
When he comes straight on from school,
he's like the dominoes equivalent
of Stephen Hawking.
What are you reading?
Oh, dear.
Oh, dear, what?
After returning from a horrid day in court,
I had the pleasure of scraping dog poo
off Charlies football boots with a toothbrush
that I hope I've thrown away.
This was followed by a rugby match
masquerading as dinner,
then the existential hell of bath and bedtime.
You have your dominoes. This is my relaxation.
- Sorry. - Yes.
Oh! Oh, Geoffrey!
It's bad enough us stocking the wretched book,
you don't actually have to read it, as well.
You'll get high on your own supply.
It's research.
Ten pages is all I managed.
How many copies of the new Zadie Smith
- did we sell last week? - Four.
- And of "she came in chains"? - Fifty-three.
Including one to lady Fermley-Cadwaller.
Who said it was for her granddaughter,
when she was clearly lying.
Can't argue with your figures, darling.
Nope, but I can argue with its complete lack
of literary merit.
Which, of course, I concede.
And I can argue in its depiction
of all women as needing dominated.
Doesn't stop me reading it, now does it?
Didn't stop me from reading "lady chatterley."
Yeah, but that was great literature.
- Was it? - Yes.
The act of carnality as an explosion of sensuality,
expression of new wisdom
in the ultimate life and love experience.
It was about having sex in a shed.
Was it Miller who said
"it's all this cold-hearted fucking, that is death and idiocy"?
See, that's what's so despicable
- is the cold-hearted... - Stop pontificating.
Read your Hollinghurst. Don't stress.
Very childish. Very, very childish.
Do you really get any pleasure
out of reading that ill-formed garbage?
Pleasure? Let me think.
Do you mean am I going to leap on you tonight
demanding that you have your wicked way with me?
Hmm. Highly unlikely.
I have to take Sarah to have her nits checked, first thing.
But if you mean do I derive pleasure
from not having to engage emotionally or intellectually,
then, yes.
Well, doesn't it worry you that Sarah could write
more stylishly than...
"Lydia Lovemore"?
It would worry me if she wrote some of this stuff,
I can tell you.
What Lydia doesn't know about BDSM
- isn't worth knowing. - BD what?
"Bondage discipline, sadism and masochism."
Don't you know anything?
I'm proud to say I don't.
That's because you haven't read the book.
And in answer to your earlier question,
yes, I do want to be enslaved,
corrupted, beaten and humiliated,
but not by you, darling. You'd spend the whole time
worrying about sentence construction.
It's the basis of all good writing.
Well, that's a big rich, coming from someone
who's been planning that great novel
since the first day we met.
The syntax may leave something to be desired.
But at least Lydia gets on her ass
and actually writes something.
After the nit parade, I'm off to London
to see my dodgy client, then I'm taking Zoe out to tea,
and don't forget it's dad-and-son karate after school.
- Oh, shit. - Mom, dad said a rude word.
Oh, forgive him, darling, he's nervous about being humiliated by you.
Don't you want some superior reading matter?
I have a zoo-page brief, but thanks for the thought.
- When will you be back? - In time for the women's institute.
- What? - They're holding a special lecture...
"how to avoid rope burns in bondage situations."
Bye.
Well, I think it's a shame.
Surely they could have called you.
- Well, they may have. - Mm-hmm.
I'm having a bit of trouble with my phone.
Oh, sorry.
Let me at least give you something towards this.
No, thank you, but, no.
I've got to do this on my own.
Can't go scrounging off my sister
every time things get a bit tough.
I know you're a wonderful actress,
and you're lmng your dream,
but is it what you really...
- What I want? - Yeah.
Yes.
What I ought to do, I don't know.
But I'm damned if I'm gmng up now
after everything I've done to get here.
See what you can dig up about these vegetable wars.
Pardon the pun.
Might be a story there, like that mad butcher
and his football team- colored sausages.
Must go, Anna WINTOUR'S here.
If I was Anna Wintour it's unlikely I'd have someone
who looks like you working for me.
Fair point. And it's always delightful to see you.
Good, because I've trekked all the way up
to your little fiefdom to give you some nice news.
Oh, in that case, take the weight off your feet.
Darren! Coffee for Claire.
She's brought nice news.
Now, as you know, the online channel
has done better than expected,
so in preparation for the full broadcast offering
later in the year,
I've decided to introduce a weekly cultural show.
Good luck.
Tell me, David, do you feel challenged in this job?
Every day is a challenge, Claire.
Today, for example, is karat price fixing.
Because I think we should encourage your interest
in literature and the arts before you become irredeemably
cynical and jaded.
I want you to host the new show.
But I've never done anything like that before.
Good. A fresh voice.
And let's face it, David, you're pretty fond
of the sound of your own voice.
Assuming I'm faintly interested,
how will it work technically?
Ah, just the person.
I take it you know how to operate your camera in video mode?
Of course. In fact, I've been doing...
Yes, I'm sure you have.
So, that's fixed.
We can't afford a studio until we get
onto the broadcast networks, so until then you can do
pieces here in the office or wherever culture
rears its ugly head,
you and young "Cartier-Bresson" there.
That's Darren.
How lovely to meet you, Darren.
David talks about you nonstop.
Now, I must be off. It's the Norfolk food awards,
and we're sponsoring the most imaginative pie.
By the way, what's your take on the mummy porn phenomenon?
"She came in chains," and so forth?
I think it's appalling.
Good. So you'll do a piece on it for the show, then.
Well, I'll try and find some cultural significance.
So, in a world where sex across the media
is all too easily available,
and the gradual playing out of a love affair is replaced
by... ugh... instant joyless fornication,
we might be well served by looking back
to Jane Austen.
- Specifically, at "pride and prejudice." -
Quite apart from the fact that it is on this year's syllabus,
if you read it properly, you may just find
that there are emotions expressed in it
that might surprise you.
Mr. Darcy in his wet shirt.
My mum's worn the DVD out.
A scene not actually portrayed by the author,
but certainly an appropriate modern screen interpretation.
That Colin firth is really hot.
- He's a posh plonker. - And you're not?
Moving on from these sophisticated appraisals
of Mr. firth's acting ability,
what I'm trying to convey, is that despite the lake scene,
the makers of that adaptation
generally chose to reflect Jane Austen's ability
to infuse her narratives
with a subtle eroticism,
which is all the more effective by not being overt.
Sir, there's an erotic version
of "pride and prejudice" on the Internet.
Have you read it?
I'd rather Pierce my tired old eyes.
Colin firth's in the "Bridget Jones" films.
I'm sure he is.
Can we return to the subject?
Would it be fair to say that Helen Fielding's
no different from Jane Austin, sir?
Monstrously unfair, I should think.
Your point being?
Page one.
"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man
in possession of a good fortune,
must be in want of a wife."
Elizabeth Bennet wants to be married,
despite how she behaves to Mr. Darcy,
so does Bridget Jones to Mr. Darcy.
- Nothing's changed really. - Well, that's a good point,
except that miss fielding cannot be compared to Jane Austen.
Well, actually, sir, the first book was meant
as an homage to Austen.
Fielding's funny, and so is Austen,
and there's nothing really erotic in either book.
Not when she's wearing those scary knickers.
Now that's enough.
I believe miss fielding is the purveyor
of what is termed "CHICKLIT."
Jane Austen wrote great lit,
as we will now set about discovering.
Sir, it's "mummy porn" now.
Mummy what?
Mummy porn, sir.
Bondage, s&m, you know.
I most certainly don't know, nor do I wish to.
Sir, you always tell us there's no room for ignorance
in literary analysis,
surely you should read some of this stuff
before dismissing it.
If someone held a gun to my head,
I would refuse.
And if I discover any of you young ladies
sampling this revolting expression
of 21st-century decadence,
I should have to retire immediately.
Now, "pride and prejudice."
Do you have "she came in chains"?
I can't seem to find it on the shelves.
I don't know.
Well, could you check, please?
Well, I could, but, Diana,
it's really not a good book.
I don't want a good book.
I have hundreds of good books.
I want to read, "she came in chains."
And if you're not interested in selling it to me
I'll buy it on Amazon, which is probably
what I should have done in the first place.
Diana, please, we do not use the "a" word
in our little emporium. Anything I can help you with?
Marcus, here, seems to think it's his duty
to be my personal literary guardian.
- Oh. - I came in to buy a book,
which, as a loyal supporter of the only independent
book shop for miles around, I do, frequently.
But I don't have to.
- Sorry, Diana, I didn't think... - No, you didn't.
The fact is I want a little light relief,
if you'll pardon the expression.
And I didn't think I'd have to pass
some sort of eligibility test.
Oh, of course not. I'll get you a copy.
We just had a delivery.
It's selling awfully well, you know .
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you, it's just that
having read your portrait, I don't understand why
you'd want something that is so badly written,
quite apart from its content.
I'm a big girl, and I'm sure I can cope with its content.
As for the merits, or otherwise of the writing,
who cares? My last collection...
"Bumfights and beatitudes."
Well remembered.
Sold 104 copies.
I have 104 friends and relatives.
What's wrong with a woman making money
from writing novels like these?
They're not doing any harm, are they?
I suppose not, but, I mean anybody could write this stuff.
- I bet you couldn't. - Well, I wouldn't.
But if somebody said, "here's a million-pound advance,"
would you take a shot?
No.
Well, well, I mean, maybe.
Yes, but that's not the point.
Here you are. Have you got your loyalty card, Diana?
Pop that in a bag for me, would you, Marcus?
- Thank you. - Oh, congratulations.
It appears you have a free book.
Ah, thank you.
We hope you enjoy it.
Please, come back to us soon.
I'll consider it.
Next time you decide to insult one of our most valued customers,
you might remind yourself that we are the width
of a paperback novella away from bankruptcy.
Or are you too idealistic to care?
David, unlike you to do the lunchtime session.
I'll just have a half.
I'm drowning my sorrows, actually.
I have to do something on this CHICKLIT
mummy porn thing for a Webcast.
Hmm, look at this!
"Paradise postponed," "the whipping boy,"
“manacles and manicures.“
you see why I need a drink.
You do have some beer?
We do today.
Chris, what's with all the rationing?
Ah, shit. Can you keep a secret?
- No headlines in your paper? - Of course
I've been told not to reorder until the last barrel's been tapped.
It's a cash flow thing.
You can't run a pub like that.
I know, but the fact is, dad's broke.
Every penny counts.
It's worse than that, actually.
The owners are planning to sell this place.
Turn it into holiday apartments.
To be fair, they don't want to,
but they're broke, too.
How much do they want, if you don't mind me asking?
That's the crazy thing. They're prepared to let dad buy it for 300 grand
to keep it as a pub, but he's got three other pubs with the same problem.
And he put so much money into refurbishing this place.
Doesn't seem fair.
I'm really sorry, Chris.
See you next week for dominoes.
If we're still here.
Here's your files.
Oh, thank you, Beth. Thank you very much.
Thank you.
- Hello, David. - Good morning, Lisa.
Before I humiliate you lesser mortals,
I have a question for you.
Mummy porn, is it something nasty they do in pyramids?
Something nasty that they publish
for women of a certain age. Well, any age, actually.
"Fifty shades of"... What's it called?
Oh, ah. My missus read that.
I'm still waitin'.
Why do you want to know?
My GCSE class insists on discussing it
when they should be studying Jane Austen.
Well, it's certainly not Jane Austen.
My mum reads mummy porn. Says it liberates her.
- In what way? - She says it's educational.
Is it titillating?
- Shocking? - All that and more.
- Imagine Barbara Cartland with whips and chains. - Oh, god.
Imagine minimum literary merit
- and maximum sexual deviation. - Good god.
Think of women eager to submit
to the most rigorous sexual domination.
And please don't say, "good god" again.
- But how do you know about all this? - My wife.
I thought she was a lawyer.
Ah, she's going to put some of these pornographers away.
Good on her.
She's developed a strange obsession with reading these books.
The new release of "life in the boudoir"?
Chaucer'd be a fine thing.
I had to read some myself for a piece I'm doing.
And it got me thinking about the future of the pub.
I'm sorry, but that is a non-sequitur.
Actually, it's not.
Chris, I have no intention of sharing your troubles
beyond this table, but, can 1 share them with your friends?
Well, it's a bit late to say no.
Here's the thing, the owners are going to close this place.
What?!
That's appalling.
Chris's dad needs 300,000 to buy it
and keep it as a pub.
Look around.
Where are those lot gonna go?
It's a unique cross-section of society.
And reading these books gave me an idea.
I'll be damned.
You're ahead of me.
Somebody in the shop the other day suggested
I try writing something like this to make some money.
Exactly. So why don't we?
Do what?
Become "CHICKLITTERS," or better still,
"mummy porners."
Have you gone completely mad?
- Possibly. - Definitely.
Quite apart from the moral issue
of spawning yet more of this filth,
there's a small matter of our reputations.
We can't have the region's finest
independent bookshop being run by a pornographer.
No, we'll have to write under a Nom De plume.
Christ, yes.
Can you imagine what Jen would say?
And I'm about to do a Webcast slagging it all off.
But... but none of us are novelists.
I think that might be an advantage.
Do you know how much Lydia Lovemore
earned from her last book?
Oh, I know this one. Four million quid
and that doesn't include the film rights.
Good god.
It still doesn't alter the facts.
The nearest I get to writing is the drama review
in the school mag and I'm an English teacher.
Well, it can't be that hard, can it?
All we need is a computer and just...
Or a pen and paper.
Why am I even considering this lunatic notion?
Because you want to drink your pints in a proper pub.
Look, we all have concerns,
but let's at least give it a go.
I brought some sample material for you to read,
courtesy of Jen.
Note how I'm protecting your finer feelings, Justin.
Yeah.
Ever mindful of your advanced age,
I've avoided too much bump and grind.
This one is almost poetic in the broadest sense.
Yours, however, as befits a young and sturdy lad,
is filth from cover to cover.
Multiple orgasms every three pages.
The heroine redefines the word "nymphomaniac"
and her tumescent paramour has the constitution
of a hereford bull.
- You'll love it. - Thanks.
Marcus has the prmlege of owning a shop
packed with these literary gems,
and I myself have gorged over the last few days
and feel confident in my grasp of the subject.
So, what exactly are you suggesting we do?
Count the climaxes and draw a graph?
I suggest that we all write a couple of pages of purple prose,
bring it next week and see if we can join it up.
Then we can decide how to proceed.
Two pages, that's your lot.
Now, can we play, please?
Good thing I'm not superstitious.
Enjoy your Saturday job?
I'm just making some notes... For this culture show thing.
I thought you'd taken them swimming.
Uh, mission aborted. Turd in the pool.
- Not Charlie? - God, I hope not.
It wasn't you, was it, darling?
- Of course it wasn't. - It was a girl.
When she took her costume off...
All right, that's enough, go play outside
until I call you for lunch.
So, what cultural pearls are you going to feed
to the online swine, then?
Oh, no, it's very early stages.
- Much too embarrassing. - Oh, fair enough.
Talking of embarrassing, I seem to have mislaid
a few of those books you so despise,
and I have a horrid feeling that Sarah might have pinched them.
Ah, no, no, actually, I borrowed them.
What? You old hypocrite.
Well, I need to be better informed.
Claire wants me to do a piece for the new show.
I'm thinking of inviting a CHICKLITTER
to come on and put their point of view.
Oh, that's a good idea. You ought to ask me.
No way. You're far too articulate.
I'll take that as a compliment.
Oh, there's some good news. Zoe's got a job.
Excellent.
Cleaning? Dog walking?
You cynical sod. No, acting. Chekhov.
Chekhov?
Safe from Shakespeare, I suppose.
Lady MacBeth as a hell's angel
still gives me nightmares.
- It was thought-provoking. - It was vomit-provoking.
What she did to Duncan's corpse
with that motorbike chain... Ooh-hh!
You coming?
Thought I might start finishing the stock tagging.
- It shouldn't take long. - Well, you don't have to.
Tomorrow's fine.
Well, I just... Just want to pull my weight.
But you do. Well, most of the time, except that you order
prospective customers not to buy books.
Geoffrey, that's... That's a fair comment.
Well, I'll... I'll do a cold supper.
Silly old thing.
Don't work too late.
Oh, travel book, eh?
I ain't never been to "Northangers Abbey."
- Nice place, is it? - Yes, it's very nice.
Wonderful thing, the national trust, isn't it? Wonderful.
I'm sorry, my love, but I can't cope
with you gazing at me so trustingly.
I'm reading about things that you and T. Wouldn'T have imagined.
Quite frankly, wouldn't have enhanced our life.
But it is for a good cause.
Maybe not as important as the big needs,
but important for our community.
Or am I justifying something that I really shouldn't be doing?
♪ I'm standing at the bus stop
♪ waiting for the sun
♪ to separate my soul from my body
♪ and blow away ah, ba, ba, ba, yeah
♪ I close my eyes, clear my vision to see
♪ oh, what a high place
♪ wingfit shoes and a smile on my face...
Well, I think that's all pretty damn good.
Chris, you're right on the money with the virgin status.
- Delayed gratification, always exciting. - Thank you.
I'm rather proud of the silk cat o' nine tails.
Marcus, the stuff about the pommel horse in the gym is genius,
which takes us to Justin's offering.
Young, friendly headmaster as the dominator.
Let's make his submissive a student.
The glorious frisson of danger from all fronts.
It's the school gym in the dead of night.
It would not only have me fired,
but probably arrested.
Picture it, the whisper of forbidden passion.
The clamor of racing heartbeats,
- the roar of... - David, how many of these books have you read?
I'm so sorry.
Isn't it making her a student a bit iffy?
Yeah, yeah.
What if she's a journalist sent to interview
the headmaster?
Who becomes his sex slave.
Oh, brilliant, Marcus, you're a natural.
Gentlemen, shall we do this?
- Well, I'm... I'm still... - Of course, you are.
But just think, where will we play dominoes
if they close this place?
Come on. It's gotta be worth a go.
All right, but T. Think we should all do our own thing
rather than try and be too unified.
From what I've read, there won't be a problem of style.
Indeed not.
But there are rules to be obeyed.
He must have a tragic past,
thus legitimizing his present behavior.
She must use a pet phrase ad nauseam.
Something like, "oh, wow,"
to reflect a constant quivering excitement.
And we must continually marvel at their ability to mate at will,
like a couple of frenzied rabbits.
And in purely practical terms, no e-mails.
Only hard copies.
Sorry. Or memory sticks.
Nobody must know about this.
Thank you.
Now, Marcus, is my book ready?
Yes, it is.
- What are you doing? - Bag.
Red, please.
There you are.
- Ah. - Would you like a crisp potato?
Oh, no, thanks. I don't want...
- Have a crisp. - I don't want to.
Have a crisp.
Hello, Andrew. Just that one.
Sold a dickens on ebay.
Mr. rose, this is Matilda, from Bonar and law.
Confirming your meeting with miss law this Thursday.
You won't be late, will you?
Who is it?
David rose.
Ah, David rose. I have an appointment with Peggy law.
Oh, dear.
I'll see if she's ready.
What?
Mr. rose to see you.
Well, send him in. I haven't got all day.
Sh e has, actually.
Good luck.
Well, sit down, Mr. rose. I can give you five minutes.
That's all I need, miss law.
I'm only seeing you because my colleague tells me
that you interviewed him once on some horrid little provincial rag.
And were nice to him, which he's not used to.
He's very interesting.
No, he's not, but he has his uses.
Now, what have you written?
I'm not the author.
I'm acting on behalf of a young lady I know,
- who's very shy. - Why?
Well, the content of the book is,
shall we say, a little contentious.
Politics, personal, or porn?
Porn, mummy, porn to be precise.
Is this girl a mummy?
No, but she's writing for a market of mummies.
It's really quite a big demographic.
Mmm, I know all about how big it is.
What I don't know is why women demean themselves
by reading such tripe.
I'm not sure I do, to be honest.
But, I said I'd help her, and I thought Bonar and law
would be a good place to start,
if you get my meaning.
Generally it's only the yanks
who makes fools of themselves with the "boner" joke.
Yes, sorry.
Anyway, would you be prepared to read the book?
- What's the title? - "Love let her."
- Love letter? - No, "love let her"... allowed her.
Oh, dear, god. A witty title.
Absolutely.
I meant that sarcastically.
All right, I'll read it. Leave your details with Matilda,
and maybe you'll hear from us in due course.
Any idea when?
A little nugget of advice, Mr. rose.
In the literary, indeed, the entire entertainment business,
the answer to a question like that is no.
Communication of any kind is frowned upon.
Answering emails is considered a sign of weakness.
Indeed, the default position on any kind of commitment whatsoever,
is some other time.
You know, you're a very lucky fellow,
because statistically the chances of your getting
a text on your way to see me canceling this meeting,
was about 70%.
- Good afternoon. - Good afternoon.
Now, you don't live in London, do you?
Quite a lot of people don't, as it happens.
Silly me, of course they don't.
It must be very nice for you.
It is.
Where have you been?
- The show's about to start. - Sorry, love, I got held up.
Well, did you meet your chum?
Chum? Oh, yes, yes, he was on great form.
Good old, Robbie. Exactly.
- What a legend. - Thank you so much.
We're left alone. All alone.
We have to start over. Begin life all over again.
We have to live.
We have to live, live, live, live, live, live, live.
- We have to work. - We have to live...
Live, live, live. We have to work,
- we have to work. Work, work, work, work... - Live, live, live, live...
- We have to die. - Live, live, live, live...
- We have to die. - Work, work, work...
- We have to die... - Live, live, live...
- Die, die, die...
Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay, ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay.
Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay, ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...
- We have to know. - Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...
- We have to know, know, know... - Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...
- Know, know, know, know... - Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay...
- Know, know, know, know, know! - Ta-ra-ra boom-De-ay.
Well, that really doesn't take the biscuit.
My talented baby sister.
Yes, very good. Well, done, Sarah.
- Oh, well done. - Did you like the concept?
Very original.
Very, um... I particularly liked "Chebutykin"
in the wheelchair.
That was a very good...
Wasn't she marvelous?
- Yes. - And so were you.
Oh, stop it.
Thank you.
What can I get you to drink, Sarah?
A beer, please.
He didn't like it, did he?
Well, I think he was rather intrigued.
- And you? - Yes, and I was, too.
Although, I have to be honest.
I'm not sure about Natasha being transsexual.
And I seem to recall there were children
in the original one.
Well, Chekhov refers to lots of unseen characters.
We decided if you don't see them,
- they don't exist. - Oh, right.
Here you are. All very novel and interesting.
So, I take it you're not being paid.
- We're on a profit share. - Oh, so you're not being paid.
Shh.
Well, possibly. But you know what, David,
I would sooner be doing something worthwhile than...
Well, than earning millions writing shit like this.
I'm with you there.
Now don't you start, Zoe.
It's bad enough having “evelyn waugh“ here moaning at me.
I do have other interests, you know.
I've come to your show, haven't I?
Of course.
- And I really appreciate it. - Mmm.
The ladyboy Natasha was a crap idea.
It wasn't very good.
They all worked very hard.
Too hard in the first act.
I could have done without seeing Natasha's bits
- in such graphic detail. - Yes.
Zoe did explain to me about the tranny thing,
but it did rather go over my head.
When the dress went over her/his head,
- they could have kept his pants on. - Yes.
And then "tie me up and tenderize me"?
Bloody hell.
It does seem to be all the rage.
You know, I wasn't being mean the other day.
Mean?
You know, when I talked about your book.
I just think you have one in you.
You know, something you could be really proud of.
Do you mind if I just pass it down inside your shirt?
- Won't take a moment. - Don't mind at all.
Take all the time you need.
- All set, Mr. Paxman. - Thank you, Darren.
Ready, Geoffrey?
Oh.
What the bloody hell is that?
Action.
I'm talking to Geoffrey Clarey,
co-owner of an endangered species,
an independent bookshop.
This looks really good.
Darren, darren, we can hear you.
- Oh, yeah, sorry. - Concentrate.
Tell me, Geoffrey, as a man who I assume loves great literature,
what do you feel about the proliferation
of what is termed "mummy porn"?
Well, we are indeed, as you say, David,
endangered, so I have to say I welcome it.
We sell a lot of these books.
But surely you can't approve of the total lack
of literary merit in the writing?
Well, it doesn't matter if I approve or not.
I'm in business to sell books.
As long as they're not actually breaking
any obscenity laws, I will sell them.
Well, surely, they are obscene, though.
We're pretty open-minded in this part of the world.
Oh, of course.
Yes, although I would say...
I'm so sorry, Geoffrey.
- Oh, I have to take this. - Please.
Sorry.
- David rose. - I have miss law for you.
Oh, silly me. Darren, 1 think you might need
to readjust my microphone.
Mr. rose, I read your protege's effort
and I think it might just be worth taking on.
Mind you, there's something odd about it.
- Odd? - Can't quite put my finger on it,
but I've given it to Mr. Bonar to peruse.
Anyway, I'll have a chat with some publishers
and we'll need to sort out a contract
with this mysterious author of yours.
If she wants you to act for her,
we'll need her to sign power of attorney over to you.
I take it that won't be a problem?
- No problem at all. - Good.
I'll be in touch.
Sorry about that. I'm sorry, Darren.
I think we can carry on.
Although, it might be nice if Marcus could sort of flit
back and forth behind me.
Make the place look a little busier.
Would you mind floating?
Ready?
What were your thoughts on this book?
Well, it"s tripe, of course.
But tripe that'll keep us in FOIE Gras
in the foreseeable if I'm any judge.
It does have an odd construction, don't you think?
Well, yes, it does.
It's almost as if the heroine, or the victim,
depending on how you see it, has a split personality.
Split four ways.
There's a sort of slightly poetic element.
And then, of course, some of it is...
Quite funny.
The fetish stuff in the school gym
is not exactly as I remember pt.
And as for the straight sex,
well, it isn't, is it'?
- Straight, I mean. - Don't ask me.
If I were to shackle Mrs. Bonar
to the orthopedic bed, there very soon wouldn't be a Mr. Bonar.
Anyway, "Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat."
And we could be set to make our fortune.
Let's celebrate. I'll buy you lunch.
If you insist, but "Ne quid Nimis."
Yes, I see.
No, no, Peggy, old girl,
I'm sorry, but we are about to enter
a whole new world of excess.
I only hope that the old ticker will stand it.
By the way, I've got those books of yours.
I'm done with the research.
Keep them hid, darling.
In fact, I don't want them back.
I think I had enough of this stuff now.
Just take them to the charity shop, would you?
No, I won't. I have a reputation to safeguard.
Oh, don't be such a prude.
The old dears at the shop will be very excited.
Now that's a scary thought.
Do they make you excited?
What, the old dears?
No, no, I mean the books.
Do you get turned on?
What, do you get turned on by online porn?
I never watch porn.
Well, then you're part of a very exclusive male minority .
All right, were I to watch porn, which I don't,
I probably would... Get turned on, I mean.
But it's not as good as the real thing.
Exactly. It's a case of well, I never,
Rather than "well, I must."
I don't actually want you to tie me to the bed and spank me,
but it's quite fun to imagine it.
Would you like to see the dessert menu, Mrs. rose?
Yes, yes, please.
Now see what you've made me do? I know his mother.
Anyway, I don't want the books back.
And I expect that goes for a lot of other women.
- What do you mean? - Well, it's probably a fad.
Tomorrow it'll be gardening magazines. Next week, plumbing manuals.
But surely, there will always be a market for this sort of thing.
- You sound like you care. - Of course not.
But surely people will always read romantic novels.
Oh, well, you go ahead. Don't let me stop you
communing with your inner Barbara Cartland
whenever you feel the need to.
Nick Clegg, “my life in politics," we'll take one.
You never know. Oh, and we're gonna need
10 copies of the new Lydia Lovemore.
That's it. Thanks.
Speak soon.
What's wrong with "conduct unbecoming"?
- Apart from the obvious? - I don't know.
Maybe she shouldn't have brought the sequel out
three months after the first one.
Or maybe the bubble's bursting.
Damn it.
I thought you'd be pleased.
Fewer sales means less money.
That's never bothered you before now.
Well, I told you. I want the shop to survive.
Do you have a copy of “conduct unbecoming“ please?
Uh, yes, I've got one copy left.
All I'm saying is he don't have the right to pretend these things.
He say his carrots are organic,
but who knows that he aren't covering them with shit
- and calling them organic? - Well, I see what you mean.
And, don't quote me on this, but I tell you, he is a two...
Excuse me.
David rose.
Mr. rose, I hope you're sitting down
or at least somewhere where you can faint at Liberty.
Not easy, but fire away.
We have a deal.
For "love let her."
A major publisher, not unconnected
with "flightless birds who live in the antarctic,"
- is proposing an advance. - That's terrific.
Not in the same league as “Lydia Lovebite, “ I'm afraid.
But I dare say half a million will be acceptable.
After commission and tax, that's about, oh, 300,000?
300,000?
I'll have to consult with the author, of course,
but I'm pretty sure that will be more than fine.
Well, you'll have to do more than consult, I'm afraid.
With money like that, we'll need her signature, and not yours.
The only stipulation that the publishers have made
is that the author commit herself to a full-scale press campaign.
I'm not sure that she'd be able to...
You persuaded me to read her horrid little book,
now you persuade her to accept the terms
or it's a deal breaker, I'm afraid.
Just remind the girl that any publicity is good publicity.
Any publicity is good publicity.
That's what they say, isn't it?
Now, what are you going to say?
I haven't a fucking clue.
Yes.
Shit.
I'm so sorry, lady Fermley-Cadwaller.
Yes!
Shit.
I'm sorry.
Horse won, then steward's inquiry.
Yes.
Shit.
Sorry. Disregard that unfortunate outburst .
- Even if we did own up... - Which we can't.
If we did, they're not going to go for mummy porn
written by four blokes.
There must be a way to persuade them
that it's more interesting to have a mysterious secret writer.
Actually, it's probably for the best.
The book would have flopped anyway.
The bubble's burst.
That's not the point. We'd have had the money
however it sold.
300 grand to the penny.
- Your go. - Been.
Oh.
Last domino.
You lost again.
- Every which way. - Oh, that sounds serious.
Not really, but, I'm going to go to bed.
- Aren't you hungry? - No.
- Are you ill? - No.
Do you know any words with more than one syllable?
How much of a disappointment am I to you?
Oh, you silly boy.
What are you on about?
I'm a small-town journalist.
I'll probably never write that novel,
because by the time I'm ready...
By the time the children are old enough,
I shall be itching to turn the garden,
and you can get busy with the novel.
Anyway, you're writing now, aren't you?
- What? - Writing.
You do it every day.
Oh, that.
- Yes, I suppose so. - Well, then.
But if I'd wanted to marry a novelist
there were plenty to choose from at uny.
Trouble is, none of them made me laugh.
So that's all I do for you?
No, you make happy, you maudlin fool.
And I don't even mind you playing dominoes.
Although if you ever graduate to darts,
I shall divorce you. Now go to bed.
And if you're very good,
I'll bring you a chocolate digestive with your morning tea.
Oh, by the way, Zoe's coming to stay tomorrow.
- How long for? - As long as she likes or needs.
I'm really worried about her. She sounded so down on the phone today.
Suppose I'd better try and make her laugh, then.
That would be good.
I'm sorry, mate, but the numbers just don't add up.
Okay, well, thanks anyway.
Hey, you're Zoe, aren't you?
Jen' s sister.
Uh, yeah, I'm Zoe.
We've met in the pub last year.
Chris. The manager.
Oh, yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry.
Yeah, no prob. So, what are you doing up here?
I thought you lived in London.
Uh, yeah, I did. I mean, I do.
But I have a thing I need to do up here.
Actually, I'm running a little bit late.
Sure, well, maybe you'll come to the pub again.
We're always open.
Obviously not always, but we're open during...
- Opening hours? - Yeah.
It was nice to see you.
Stop for a chat, son?
Uh, no.
Well, fuck off out of the way then.
Go on.
I'm afraid we haven't got good news.
Well, as you know, we were optimistic
that changing your medication
would be of significant benefit,
but I have to tell you, it appears not to be the case.
Meaning?
There's not much more we can do.
But I don't want to...
Well...
Um, well, of course we can run more tests.
How long?
I've organized for someone to help you.
They're very skillful and supportive.
How long?
Six months.
Maybe nine.
How are you? You sounded so miserable on the phone.
Bloody critics.
Would you like a drink, Zoe? We're having a G&T.
Oh, yes, please.
Make it a quadruple. I'm knackered.
I've been crying all day.
Oh, surely, it's not that bad.
You should have come earlier. Where have you been?
The hospital.
God, what's happened?
Bad news.
Breaking bad news.
24, well, no, 23 times... One of them didn't turn up.
What? What are you talking about?
Role play.
Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't I tell you?
When the play closed, I got a couple of days' work up here doing role play.
It's easier tomorrow. We're doing bipolar.
Oh, thank god. You got me really worried then.
- Mmm. - When's supper?
All that crying has really taken it out of me.
- 50... - if I ever get a film role,
and they want me to cry,
at least they won't have to squirt anything in my eyes.
I'm an expert now.
David. What on earth are you doing skulking about here?
I need to talk to you.
But I'm on my way back to your place.
Privately. Come on.
So, what's all this cloak-and-dagger stuff then?
I have a proposition for you.
I hope that's not as pervy as it sounds.
Good god, no.
Oh, what, I'm not sexy enough for you?
No.
I mean, yes, but, no.
"Oh, yes, but no, but yes, but no," but what?
I'm looking to hire you.
David, that's more insulting than not fancying me.
I mean, I want to engage you for some role play.
Jesus, David, are we talking whips and obedience here?
Of course not. Although there is a connection.
But before I go on, you have to promise me
that whether or not you accept my offer,
you won't breathe a word of this to anyone,
particularly not to Jen.
Gets curiouser and curiouser.
Do you promise?
Brownie's honor.
And you're talking to the gal who'll take the secret
of Brownel's cannabis plants to her grave.
Why the clandestine meeting?
Well, I assume Ashenden will tell us if he turns up.
Hey?
I assume Marcus is making an ironic reference
to John Ashenden, subject of a series
of short stories by somerset Maugham.
How fascinating. Please tell me more.
Well, Ashenden was a first world war spy.
Oh, bollocks.
Sorry, guys. When you get going it really freaks me out.
I guess this somerset guy didn't write erotic women's stories.
No, oh, well, actually, there was "Liza of Lambeth."
- "Cakes and ales." - Shut up.
Oh.
Gentlemen, I want you to meet
the author of "love let her."
Zoe fielder.
Have you gone mad?
Never saner, as I will explain.
Please do.
When pubs disappear they never come back, right?
We can save our hallowed institution. All we need is an author,
and Zoe here, who happens to be my sister-in-law,
is an actress, who does lots of what they call role play.
This will be her greatest role.
Well, I'm not sure about that.
Greatest role play then.
We'll pay Zoe for the time she has to be our writer,
probably about three months until the fuss dies down.
We get the 300 grand, minus what we pay Zoe.
- I think it's too risky. - So do I.
Well, explain why.
Well, supposing she's unmasked.
She's not a bloody spy.
I don't mean to be rude, Zoe, but what if she does
- tell anybody? - She's Jen's sister.
She's family.
But anyway, we'll be paying her. She can sign a contract.
You wouldn't mind that, would you, Zoe?
No, but I do mind my deal.
You didn't mention what you were making.
And I have to sort the tax out.
My accountant can do that.
And all that's left is going toward saving the pub.
400 a week? Still pretty crap.
It is, actually.
Fine, we'll make it 500.
Which is 490 pounds more than you were getting
for your last theatrical engagement.
I'm not happy about this, David,
but there is no need to be rude to Zoe.
My apologies. Zoe, 500.
- Agreed. - Gentlemen?
Agreed.
As long as there is no chance of us being found out.
We'll have to find a name for her.
Why? Zoe is a young actress, who happens to be
my sister-in-law and asked me to negotiate for her.
It's easy. We just collect the money.
That's what they said at Lehman brothers.
Ready?
Chris has asked me to go for a drink with him.
I'll see you back at the house.
Yes, of course.
Good night.
♪ Do I see sparks...
Well, you wanted to ask me for a drink, right?
Yeah.
Yeah, of course.
We can go to my pub. If that's okay.
A pint's a pint.
♪ But tonight, I feel like breaking stride
♪ and I bet you're glad I did
♪ because I think you're beautiful
♪ stone-cold beautiful icebox beautiful
♪ cool as a winter wave
♪ cool as the rocks in the drinks
♪ that I'm gonna buy you...
It is quite something you've taken on.
Are you sure you want to go through with it?
I'm sure I want 500 quid a week.
I'm sure I'll be able to pull it off,
and I'm sure it'll be a laugh.
I'm not sure you're sure.
No, I'm good with it.
I think. Just... Have you read the book?
No, I'm some to read it tonight.
Give me a clue. Is it really dirty?
Uh, yeah, pretty much so.
Go on, give me a teaser.
- What? - Like, quote a line from it.
Oh, shit, no, I couldn't.
What? You're embarrassed?
No.
Well, a bit.
So, it's okay for you boys to have loads of fun
writing your wet dreams but I'm the one who has to mop them up?
I suppose so.
Because it's just all too dirty
and humiliating for you.
And for you.
That's what I meant when I asked if you wanted to get involved.
Are you on duty till closing time?
No.
Walk me home, then.
♪ So tell me about yourself
♪ what are you like?
♪ What are you into?
♪ What do you want to do?
♪ Want to get out of here?
♪ Want me to come with you?
♪ You're beautiful
♪ stone-cold beautiful
♪ icebox beautiful
♪ cool as a winter wave
♪ cool as the water that I'll pour ya in the morning
♪ it's just gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh, gentlemen talk
♪ to a lady
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh, gentlemen talk
♪ to a lady
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh gentlemen talk
♪ to a real woman
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh, yeah...
Coffee and naughty biscuits.
And talking of naughty, I loved your book so much.
That scene in the kitchen with the food blender.
I'd always wondered what the post function was for.
Yes, thank you, Matilda, that will be all.
Bye.
I must say, miss fielder,
I had no idea about most of what you portray.
The food blender,
is it...
All from personal experience?
Oh, I don't think that's pertinent.
Miss fielder, I have to warn you,
that publicizing this outre little tale of yours
may involve similarly impertinent questions.
Are you sure that you're ready for this?
- Do I have an option? - Not really.
For example, putting aside the inevitable fascination
with the "tools of your trade,"
we've noticed stylistic inconsistencies.
Yes, yes, it's as though several writers
were involved in the narrative.
And each with their own identifiable style.
Well, that's very easy to explain.
Because this type of novel is traditionally written
in the first person, I wanted to see if I could
illustrate Th e various contrasting
and yet complimentary traits that make up
the rich complexity of any human character.
And it seems I've succeeded.
Very impressive.
Indeed.
Let's do the paperwork and get this show on the road.
Miss fielder, I'm not convinced that varying
the narrative style, which you have done in this book,
altogether works, but it's certainly
a move away from the norm for this genre.
Was this a conscious decision?
Four authors wrote this book.
Or, rather I had four voices in my head.
Four different manifestations
of the same woman, if you like.
So you weren't trying to redefine the form?
I was trying to redefine my overdraft.
All right, that wraps things up.
Thank you very much, indeed, for coming this evening
and asking so many interesting questions.
Do stay, have a glass of wine, buy a book,
and Zoe will be very happy to sign your copy for you.
Thank you so much to Zoe for coming along this evening.
Well, close shave.
- Is she pissed? - Pissed off, I think.
It's a bit of a strain doing these events.
Look, you've all seemed to have got very chummy.
Chris, go and have a word with her.
But surely you have to know that would be the worst thing.
- He's right. - Publicity tour finishes next week.
She's given us our share of the money. Why don't we give her
another couple of months' worth to keep her sweet?
- Money well spent, I'd say. - Agreed.
Okay, well, thank you so much, indeed, for coming, ladies.
I hope you enjoyed it.
There's another one in a fortnight's time.
Clive Anderson' s written a book about a talking badger.
We'll see you.
I know, I know, I nearly blew it,
but, I tell you, it's getting bloody difficult to keep this up.
I'm sure, and I think you're doing amazingly.
Just hang in there.
People leave glasses anywhere.
You know what, it's weirding me out
that the women that come to these events...
And I mean it, it's virtually all women...
And they see me as some sort of voice for their own fantasies.
But isn't that why these books are so popular?
Well, of course, but...
I mean, the readers
are kind of bonding with the author,
another woman. I just feel bad
that they're being exploited by four dirty old men.
Thanks.
Sorry.
Three men in macs and an apprentice.
I'm sorry you feel like that.
In fact, I'm sorry we started the whole thing.
- Little gift for you, Annie. - Thank you.
I was in the area, so I thought I'd see
if you were slaving over your copy.
I've been snooping at the crab and lobster festival.
- Fascinating. Smelly, but fascinating. - That's nice.
Now this Zoe fielder girl, your sister-in-law, I believe.
- She is. - Good.
So you shouldn't have any trouble getting her to do
an interview tomorrow.
Oh, I don't think our little online effort
- will be suitable for her. - It won't be online.
We're bringing forward the launch of the broadcast channel.
A local celebrity interview should kick things off perfectly.
She's not really local. There's no connection.
- Where is she living? - With us.
She's local, we need a celeb.
Nelsa's dead and Delia's unavailable.
Get to it.
There's nothing to worry about, David,
that is as long as your questions
- are properly organized. - I think they are, yes.
It's no different to what you've been doing for the web, really.
Well, actually, it is.
You were using a poxy little DSLR
and we've got three high-definition broadcast cameras,
which will reveal your every blemish.
96 channels of sound.
Don't let your earpiece fall out, whatever you do.
And a million quid's worth of lights, and of course,
it's going out live, but, other than that...
Okay, we're seconds away.
Relax. Enjoy yourselves.
Going to camera one in five, four, three.
Welcome to this very first edition of arts...
- Chat. - Chat.
I'm thrilled to be talking to the newest voice
in romantic literature, Zoe fielder.
Thanks for coming on the show, Zoe.
It's my pleasure.
So what made you write "love let her,"
which critics say redefines the genre,
but is currently banned by at least six
of east Anglia's mobile libraries?
You mean, "what on earth made you write it?"
No, no, I'm sure you had your reasons,
but it is very steamy stuff.
Well, I wrote it because I. Have a ravenous appetite for “steamy stuff“
that just wasn't being satisfied by the current crop
of cloying crap on the shelves.
My one desire in life is desire.
I mean, right now it's all I can do
to keep my feeble womanly mind from imagining
greasing a pair of antique bellows.
- Shut her up! - Shut up.
- Oh, I'm sorry. - Okay.
Okay, let's get these out of the way quickly,
shall we?
“Based on experience“? Well, wouldn't you like to know?
"Literary merit"? None, probably.
"Is it important"? Well, the trick question.
“ Feminism .“ well, do 1 believe in women's equality?
Of course, I bloody do.
"Do true feminists like sex"? Some do, some don't.
As long as those that don't don't slag off those that do,
it's not an issue.
And "will I be writing a sequel"?
Well, I'm not sure. What do you think?
Well, I suppose it's down to whether we dislike this book.
Exactly.
But if they do, I have plans to write
many, many more books.
Watch this space.
And now it's time for a break.
Thank you, Zoe fielder, for your very frank answers
and good luck with the book.
After the break...
One man's view of artistic beauty.
Off air.
Not much I can do about that.
Just goes to show you what happens when you have
an inexperienced presenter.
It was fine.
Just the sort of thing to get people talking.
And here we are. They're tweeting already.
"Go, Zoe, tell the guy."
"Yay! Girl with attitude. Good for you."
"You're a disgrace to the sisterhood."
Well, can't win 'em all.
I'm sorry, David. I don't know what came over me.
Bullshit. You were just flexing your muscles.
Maybe. Or maybe I was being the type of feisty young woman
that TV audiences like.
You want them to believe I wrote the damned book, don't you?
Of course, but I don't want them to believe
there's a sodding great library in the offering.
Come on, David. It's time for your next insightful encounter.
Oh, bloody hell.
- This is Lilly. - Come on, Lilly.
Personally, I liked your performance.
Which, I suspect is what it was.
I was just trying to be honest.
Not always the best policy.
You need people on the side,
that's what these junkets are all about.
Never burn Bridges before they're built.
30 seconds and into the next interview.
Stand by in the studio and someone please find a dustpan and brush.
Oh, bloody hell. Phil, try to clean this up.
Do you really have to go?
I have two more interviews to do in London.
Which you may remember, is where I live.
Then what?
And then back to the real world.
It's funny. I never thought I'd think of acting as the real world.
- Will you come back? - Will you come to London?
I've got a pub to run.
Thanks to you.
I could visit.
Then come and visit.
Look, I never asked, but I assume
your contribution to the book was the most hardcore stuff.
No, it was the least hardcore stuff.
- The poetic bits? - Yes, thank god.
You're really quite prudish, aren't you?
I'm not prudish.
I...
- You again? Piss off. - Oh, for Christ's sake.
To my friend over there, you just ruined the most
romantic moment of my life.
Well, here's to our youngest, naughtiest
and most lucrative author.
- Cheers. - Cheers.
And you're going to be an even wealthier young lady.
Congratulations.
What's happened?
The publishers want you to sign for three more books.
We're still negotiating the advance,
but it will be well into seven figures.
The film rights have been snapped up.
We're going for a tiny advance
but a socking great percentage.
And the screenplay is already underway.
Director's been booked,
and they start casting next week.
What do I do?
Sign the contract and enjoy yourself.
I need a little time.
It's a big ask.
Oh, it'll be fine.
If they rush release the film and it's a success,
it'll put the price of your publishing advance up.
Leave it to us. You're in safe hands.
I can't believe this. More about Zoe's book.
“Casting is underway for the film of the latest mummy porn phenomenon,
'love let her.'
fans of the book are already arguing
over who should play the crucial roles
of the ultra smooth headmaster and the object of his lurid fantasies.“
- I don't believe it. - Mum, what's a "lurid fantasy"?
You're too young to understand.
And so are you, young lady.
I want to read auntie Zoe's book.
- Where have you hidden it? - Where you can't find it.
You can read it when you're old enough to appreciate it,
by which time you'll probably wonder what all the fuss was about.
I can't help wondering that anyway.
Still, it won't hurt Zoe's bank balance.
Will you just go! We're late already.
Why does it always have to be like this?
Quick, quick, quick, quick, quick.
Bye, love. Have a good day.
- Bye-bye, darling. - Bye-bye, darling.
The dam that blocks my heart is overflowing with emotion.
And my heart's full to bursting.
What are we going to... do?
You have to trust me.
Whatever I ask you to do, it's for us.
What? Are you going to ask me to do?
Oh, sauce. What are you going to ask me to do?
Snow me how much you want me.
I'm a little scared.
Not half as scared as we are.
Thank you. That was really great.
- But I read it wrong. - Easily done.
Shall we look at the breakup scene?
Page 90.
My heart is not a bargaining chip for your cheap lies.
I can't afford...
Sorry. This is where we need to feel real empathy
with the character. You know, see some passion.
Imagine you're on the catwalk
and all the buyers suddenly turn their backs on you.
Oh, right, right. Okay.
My heart is not a bargaining chip for your cheap lies.
- I can't... - I can't afford to sell myself at the love market.
The price is already rock bottom
and I wont slash it any further.
Is that what our passion is worth?
That's just it.
In my mind the price has skyrocketed
and the revenue tripled. Can't you see that?
Let's take a break, shall we?
Look, I'm really, really sorry,
but I'm an actress and I have really strong ideas
about how the words should be spoken.
My words.
Well, that's fine.
Give us five minutes?
Thank you.
She's raw as hell, but she can certainly access it.
She may be an actress, but I'm afraid she's not on my radar.
She's not a friggin' missile.
- You did ask me to find big names. - I did.
And you have.
The point is do we pay a lot of money
for the latest trendy actress or a lot less for someone
who's in the unique position
of actually having written the original book?
I don't think that's happened before.
Emma Thompson... "sense and sensibility."
I think you'll find Jane Austen had her hand in that.
So, do we have a go?
Well, the marketing people will wet their knickers.
Give me a couple of days with her.
So, you see, it wasn't just David, it was all four of them.
I see. Why are you telling me this?
Because it's all just gone a bit nuts.
I mean, no one meant any harm, I guess we did save the pub.
Oh, well, that's impressive, then.
Please don't be angry with David...
Or me.
I'm not very angry.
And I guess David, at least, gets to write his novel, in a way.
I'm just out of my depth.
Me too, that's why I had to call.
No you want all this?
You know it's a Faustian pact, don't you?
Yes, I do.
And I think I can cope.
Jen, there's something else.
Isn't that your sister-in-law there, David?
Looks like there's no stopping her now.
I don't believe this. How could she?
How could she what?
Degrade herself like this.
Well, presumably she wants the job.
But she doesn't.
I'm going to London.
- Why? - I don't know.
Well, "coup de Foudre."
- Yeah, thanks for that. - What Justin means by that...
Yeah, I know what he means, you smug gits.
In fact, I know what most of your fancy literary allusions mean.
- I just let you enjoy patronizing me. - Chris, we never-
it was a "coup de Foudre" all those months ago.
Now I have to tell her.
♪ You pretty thing
♪ you pretty little thing
♪ let me take you home
♪ and I swear that every morning
♪ you'll wake up to the smell of coffee and bacon
♪ oh, you silly thing
♪ you make me wanna laugh
♪ you make me wanna sing
♪ so I wrote this song
♪ about where we are
♪ where will we belong
♪ and I want you, baby
♪ I want you
♪ so I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine
♪ I'll watch your back when you walk the line
♪ I got you, baby, I got you
♪ yeah, I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine
♪ I'll watch your back when you walk the line
♪ I got you, baby I got you
♪ I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine
♪ I'll watch your back when you walk the line
♪ I got you, baby
- ♪ I got you - ♪ I got you, I got you, I got you
♪ I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine...
Oi!
Sorry.
Who the hell are you?
Trevor, call security, now!
Wait, wait, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know him.
- Just give me two minutes. - You got two minutes
- and then you're out of here. - It's okay, everyone.
- So? - You shouldn't be doing this.
And what the hell gives you the right to make a judgment?
Nothing. Except what I feel for you.
And what do you feel?
Doesn't matter now.
Look, I like you a lot,
but chances to star in a film don't come along every day.
If you're talented, they do.
You don't need to... You know, take your kit off,
- subject yourself... - I'm not taking...
God, you don't know anything, do you?
I mean, you wrote the bloody book,
and now you're coming over here all sanctimonious.
I kept my end of the bargain. You keep yours.
Go back to your pub and let me make something of my life.
But that's just it.
Do you really want this kind of life?
Yes. I do.
I've got the taste for money and fame
and I intend to get very used to it.
- It's all right, I'm going. - Good.
- Don't try this again. - I won't.
Look son, she's acting. That's all it is.
None of this is real.
No.
You're dead right, it's not.
Come on.
Quiet, please. Check the shoot.
Anyone who isn't required, leave the set now.
- We did. - Okay.
- Take. - Mark it.
God knows what your sir Galahad encounter stirred up,
but she's now decided to sign for another three books,
on terms rather more favorable to her.
What's our share?
Five grand a book.
- Each? - Between us.
- Good god. - Shit.
Anyway, I wouldn't want it if it were a hundred times that.
What we did was supposed to be a bit of a laugh,
basically, to help Chris.
I just don't understand what's happened to her.
It's obvious. She likes the high life. And why shouldn't she?
We set her up for it.
Actually, I set her up.
We are so totally buggered.
If we don't write the bloody thing
she'll be outing us to the press
quicker than you can say "BDSM."
I still don't see why we can't just own up,
get out of it.
Because I have spent the last year
berating Jen about her reading habits,
not to mention denouncing in print and on screen
all things chick and mummy.
And despite 40 years exemplary service,
the headmaster will justifiably remove
my reputation, pension, and testes.
Well, at least now that you're retired, you can lie low.
I had lady Fermley-Cadwaller asking me for my autograph today
on the basis that I vaguely know Zoe.
Autograph...?
Autograph.
Gentlemen, I may have had a brilliant idea.
Based on your previous brilliant ideas,
I think that might loosely count as an oxymoron.
Oh, well, strictly speaking, of course,
it's not actually an oxymoron.
- I said, loosely. - Cease and desist. Here's the plan.
- It's us. - We only have a moment.
I left Jen in the boo... in the boozer and she's fretting.
All you need to do is shove one of these under Zoe's nose
as she swans down the red carpet.
We just need one legible signature from her
to attach to her rescinded contract
- and our troubles are over. - Or just beginning.
I'm sure it must be illegal.
She won't have the guts to own up to being so dim.
What if she recognizes me?
That's why we have three tries.
- And if she won't sign it? - She will.
They always do.
Zoe! Zoe!
Miss Zoe.
By the way, Chris, I've been meaning to ask you,
what did Zoe write in your autograph book?
"Men are stupendously dim."
Never a truer word.
Jen, what the... What are you doing here?
We've come to sign up for the writers' group.
It sounds like you're doing
some jolly interesting and thought-provoking stuff.
I wish you could see yourselves.
Like a bunch of naughty schoolboys.
I'm not sure if I find most insulting the fact
that you've been lying to me all this time,
or that you think that Geoffrey and I are so pathetic
we had to be excluded from your silly game.
Well, we just didn't want to upset you.
Oh, please.
- How did you find out? - I've known for a while.
Zoe called me and she was quite concerned.
So she bloody well should be. Do you know what...
What the new deal was? Yes, of course.
What you didn't know is that she never signed it.
Why?
Maybe it was something you said.
Anyway, it's all academic now,
if one dare use that word in this context.
Well, you're obviously all so keen to indulge
your silly guilt you don't know about the film.
What about it?
Well, apparently, it had a great first weekend,
whatever that means, and then the public decided it was drivel.
So, no money, and no follow-up book deal.
But get this into your thick heads.
Zoe decided it was all wrong before the film tanked.
There was never gonna be any more money.
We really didn't want the money. Honestly, Jen.
I actually accept that.
But you'd better accept that my lovely sister
is the only one of you who comes out of this with any dignity.
Now how much money do you have left?
About 900 quid.
Geoffrey, 900 quid.
Well, let's have a party.
♪ I got love, I gotta say
♪ I got a big heartbeat and it beats all day
♪ I got a sneaky kinda feeling
♪ that we're gonna be feeling good today
♪ and keep on lovin'
♪ and keep on lovin'...
Put it there. Now we're playing!
♪ ...keepin' on, keepin' on, yeah!
Hi.
I'm sorry your film tanked.
It's not my film.
Look, I don't have a moral problem with any of it.
And I'm sure there's someone planning
the "next big chick hit" as we speak,
but it wasn't real, any of it.
You know, 'I had two body doubles for most of the filming?
One for boobs and one for bum.
And I left my sweet supportive agent
for a big cheese who already doesn't return my calls.
And it just wasn't fun.
What do actors do when they're unemployed?
Have you got any vacancies?
Yeah.
♪ You sexy thing
♪ you don't even know
♪ how you shake me so
♪ you shake-a, shake-a, shake me
♪ oh, when I speak
♪ I struggle with the words
♪ 'cause you take my breath away
♪ take my breath away - ♪ tell me what you're thinking
♪ so let me sail on your brainwaves, I'm your pirate
♪ cruising in your airspace, I'm your pilot
♪ I'ma be whatever you need
♪ 'cause that's exactly what you do for me
♪ and I wrote it all down in a little notebook
♪ just how I feel right now
♪ and this is how it sounds
♪ so, yeah, I'll scratch your back
♪ and you scratch mine
♪ I'll watch your back when you walk the line
♪ I've got you, baby, I got you, yeah
♪ I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine
♪ I'll watch your back when you walk the line
♪ I got you, baby I got you
♪ I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine
♪ I'll watch your back when you walk the line
♪ I got you, baby, I got you
♪ I got you, I got you, I got you
♪ and I'll scratch your back and you scratch mine
♪ I'll watch your back when you walk the line
♪ I got you, baby, I got you.
♪ I'm seeing double
♪ you must be a Gemini
♪ is it me, or do I see sparks?
♪ Or is the light of your disco-ball eyes
♪ the headlights in the dark
♪ ooh
♪ no, I don't come here a lot
♪ I don't usually ride on these Cypher club vibes
♪ but, tonight I feel like breaking stride
♪ and I bet you're glad I did
♪ 'cause I think you're beautiful
♪ stone-cold beautiful
♪ icebox beautiful
♪ cool as a winter wave
♪ cool as the rocks in the drinks
♪ that I'm gonna buy you
♪ it's just gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh
♪ gentlemen talk to a lady
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh
♪ gentlemen talk to a lady
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh
♪ gentlemen talk to a real woman
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh, yeah
♪ my watch stopped, so you must be a good time
♪ so tell me about yourself
♪ what do you like?
♪ What are you into?
♪ What do you want to do?
♪ Want to get out of here?
♪ Want me to come with you?
♪ You're beautiful
♪ stone-cold beautiful
♪ icebox beautiful
♪ cool as a winter wave
♪ cool as the water that I'll pour ya in the morning
♪ it's just gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh
♪ gentlemen talk to a lady
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh
♪ gentlemen talk to a lady
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh
♪ gentlemen talk to a real woman
♪ gentlemen talk
♪ ooh, ooh, yeah.