Ripped By mstoll
How you doing, darling? Have you got everything?
Now, then, Radio London have just said it's half past eight
and it's going to be a nice day.
Isn't that nice? Look. Not a spec.
That baby shampoo works wonders.
Now, then, you're sure you don't want any breakfast?
You don't have to go to work on an egg
but you could go to work on a bowl of Fruity Bran.
- No, thank you. - Piece of toast and polyunsaturated marg?
- No, thank you. - Darling, you must have a cup of tea.
No, thank you.
Oh, Oliver, please don't take it out on me. I don't want to stay at home.
- Where are my keys? - I'd much rather go to work.
I've given up my job and I only did that because we thought you were being promoted.
Anyway, I've got all the time in the world to get the flat clean
and tidy and cook you a nice meal when you come home.
What about steak?
Yes, I know it's expensive but I could buy the frying stuff
and batter the life out of it with a mallet.
Steak? Listen, Sandy, without my promotion and your job,
bread and water is going to be our nearest luxury.
And if we can't pay the water rates, it'll just be bread.
And heaven help us if there's another bakers' strike.
- Have a nice day, Oliver. - Already falling into the housewives' dialogue!
In a couple of hours, you'll be taking down a Jimmy Young recipe.
What do you do now? Run to the window and wave me to the bus stop?
If Jimmy Young gives me a good recipe for bread and water, I'll cook it.
Wave him all the way to the bus stop. Huh!
He is becoming the most self-centred, boorish, totally impossible person.
Humpf. If he thinks I care one bit about whether he had breakfast or not...
Oh, he never even had a cup of tea.
And I cut his toast into soldiers ready for his meal.
Oh, it's all my fault for giving up my job.
Oliver! Oliver! I'm sorry, darling.
Whoo-oo. Oliver. Up here, darling.
Look up here.
He's deliberately staring at the bus stop.
Oliver Pryde, you are becoming the most self-centred, boorish, totally impossible person...
- (Phone rings) - Huh.
Nice friendly telephone bell.
Hello. Oh, Mum.
What? Oh, yes. Yes. Seen the breadwinner off.
Unfortunately, he went without any bread.
Two... three...
Good morning, Oliver.
Good morning, Victor.
I know how you feel. Rotten luck losing that promotion to McKenzie.
Oh, it's not just that. Sandy and I had a bit of a barney this morning.
Oh. She's a liberated lady during the day now, isn't she?
- (Chortles) - What?
Oh, be careful she doesn't get bored and seek daytime company.
Good Lord, Victor. It's her first day off.
She's promised to spring clean the flat. Cook me a super supper.
Oh, yes. Of course. I was just sounding the warning based on my experience with Veronica.
Well, her infidelity began after a grotty goodbye.
Sandy's infidelity? With whom?
The milkman qualifies for his pension next month.
Oh. I'd better ring and apologise, though.
When I was at the bus stop, I saw her out of the corner of my eye, waving.
- And I didn't turn and wave back. - Oh, Oliver. Always wave.
And give her a nice goodbye kiss even if she did burn the toast.
(Engaged tone)
Oh. Engaged.
- Chatting to her mother. - Yes. Possibly.
I wish you hadn't mentioned toast. I didn't have any breakfast.
- You mean she didn't cook you any? - I refused it.
(Tuts)
- I'm going to get a coffee from the machine. - It's broken again.
- What, no coffee? - Oh, yes. It's delivering coffee.
It forgets to put out a cup.
Hm. But you know, I didn't think I'd miss the office but I do.
Well, you know, the ringing of the telephone, the chatter of the typewriter.
Occasional scream when somebody smudges their Photostat.
I'm beginning to feel a bit lonely already.
- (Door bell) - Mum, I shall have to go.
There's somebody at the door. Yeah. Bye.
- Oh, read the meter. - Oh, yes. Come in. Come in.
You're not usually here.
Oh, well, I'm a housewife now.
Oh. Shall I put you on my usual round, then?
Oh, please put me on your usual round.
- Where is it? - In the kitchen.
- Would you like a cup of tea or something? - Tea? Ooh, no.
Acid. Tanning acid.
Ooh.
- Oh... er... really? - Yeah.
Well, we wouldn't want your tummy to get tanned, would we?
- Would you like a coffee instead? - Oh, that's very nice. Ta.
Oh, right. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.
Coffee.
Then perhaps afterwards, we could have a little chat.
Hey?
Well, we've never had a chat before, have we?
No, we haven't.
I'm sorry. I'm afraid we must have finished the coffee last night.
- I've finished your meter so we'll leave it at that. - No. No. No.
It's no bother. I'm going to go and borrow some off Mrs Fairlie.
Look, don't bother, love.
I'll be two seconds.
(Phone rings)
Excuse me, love. Excuse me.
Your... erm...
Erm... yes?
Who's that?
- Pardon? - Er... Sorry, wrong number.
- Wrong number? - Yes.
Oh, dear. You are having bad luck this morning.
If you're trying to make out that just because a man answers...
- A man? - Oh, shut up.
(Phone rings)
Erm...
Hello?
Is that 993-0291?
Erm...
Oh, yes. Yes.
Well, who's that speaking?
Thanks, Sheila. Pay you back when I've been shopping.
Just a moment, please.
Er... love?
Engaged again? Or another wrong number?
(Rapid knock on door)
Hello, Oliver. I just wanted to say how sorry I was about you losing your promotion.
- Oh, thanks, Edgar. - I thought the whole thing was in the bag.
Who'd have guessed the bag would burst? Ha-ha-ha! Sorry.
Mind you, McKenzie's successor hasn't been appointed yet.
So his moving up does create a vacuum.
- You'd have to change departments, of course. - And buildings.
Oh, yes. You'd have to move across to Kingsway. A bit old-fashioned there.
- Their coffee machine doesn't break. - How do you know?
They haven't got one.
- Get off my desk. - You mustn't laugh. You see, Oliver's hungry.
Hungry?
Didn't you have breakfast?
With Sandy not working, she's got time to give you something decent.
Like Deirdre always does for me.
A poached egg, grilled bacon, tomatoes, sausages.
Oh, actually, you see, he and Sandy have had a bit of... er... you know.
Crossed swords first thing?
(Sucks in his breath)
(Mimics the sucking in of breath)
Not a good idea just when she's been let off the working lease.
- Yes, all right. - They get lonely, you know.
Out. Out. Out.
Sorry I spoke.
Oh, this business of McKenzie moving up. Why don't you try applying to Kingsway?
I might.
- Be like that. - Oh, Edgar. You haven't got anything to eat?
- Sorry, old man. I'm dieting. - Not even an apple?
Oh, yes, I brought an apple... but I ate it.
Bye.
- Ta, love. - Ooh, can I get you another one?
No. No. One's my limit.
Because of the coughing.
- I'll... er... yes. I'll see myself out. - Thank you.
- Hello. - Hello, Sandy. It's Deirdre.
(Engaged tone)
How are you enjoying your first day of freedom?
I'm not. I've just spent 10 riveting minutes
discussing caffeine and tannic acid with a meter man.
What?
Well, for company. I mean, what else can I do?
The housework isn't going to take me long, the shopping less than an hour.
And I don't feel like getting in a queue with the old age pensioners for a nap at the pictures.
Well, if you really feel like that, Edgar was talking last night about some job going.
At Oliver's place? I couldn't work there.
No, it's a branch where they work, in Kingsway, I think they said.
Oh, well, that's far enough away.
They mentioned the name McKenzie and Brewster, was it?
- Anyway, why don't you try? - Yes, I will.
Only I won't mention it to Oliver, in case I don't get it.
Only whatever you do, don't mention marriage if you do apply.
- What? - Don't say you're married.
It's the old story. Every boss thinks you're going to rush off to have a baby
before you've used up your first week's luncheon vouchers.
Miss Bennett.
Oh. Sorry. Yes... er...
That's me. It's just that I've got so used to being Mrs... No, I haven't.
I beg your pardon?
No, you're right. Miss... Miss Bennett.
That's right. Miss Bennett. No babies for me.
- Miss Bennett. - Miss Bennett. Yes. Miss.
- That's what I had you down as. - Oh, is it? Well, you were right.
Er... well done.
Er... Do sit down, Miss Bennett.
- Thank you. - Er... now. Um...
I gather you heard about this job from a friend who works here.
Well, a friend's friend.
- Who works here? - Well, actually, it was a friend's friend's friend.
Who doesn't work here.
I see. Erm...
- Previous employment? - Walters & Maraby Personnel.
You were Personnel Officer at Walters & Maraby?
Well, I deputised on occasions.
- For whom? - Mrs Hitler.
Oh!
Sorry. Miss Pagnell. Personnel Officer.
Yeah. Well, I'm very sorry, Miss Bennett...
- Mrs. - What?
Er... no. Er... Miss. Miss. Yes. Miss.
I'm very sorry.
Please don't apologise. Your being single is quite an advantage.
In this building, pregnancies replace dropping out as the greatest depleter of our workforce.
However, to be frank, Miss Bennett, the job is not in personnel and it is for a man.
However, we do have another vacancy.
Not the one recommended by your... friend's friend's friend.
I would like to make a telephone call about you but I would prefer it to be confidential.
- Would you mind? - Oh. Yes. Yes, of course.
Thank you.
There's a terrible draught in that corridor.
Erm...
I won't listen.
Right.
I'll be... I'll be right outside.
Sorry about that, David. Look, I've got a girl here who could replace our Mrs Appleton.
She is a little on the eccentric side but... erm...
...the interesting thing is she's been with Walters & Maraby.
I think both her training and, shall we say, her inside knowledge,
could be to our advantage.
Miss Bennett?
- It was the... er... - The draught?
Yes.
- I only want to see him for a moment. - Wait there, please.
- Do sit down, Miss Bennett. - Thank you.
I've made an appointment for you with Mr Fenton. Unfortunately, he has a full afternoon.
He can't see you till quarter to five.
However, perhaps I might take you to lunch? Hm?
Nothing... Nothing grand. Just a little place I know near here.
Er... well, thank you very much.
Erm... I don't think that he would like it, you see.
He wouldn't like my taking you? Who wouldn't?
Er... my doctor.
I'm on this diet.
Miss Bennett, I can assure you, if there was anything wrong with your figure,
I wouldn't be inviting you to lunch.
(Stomach gurgles)
I'm sorry, Mr Brewster has someone with him at the moment
and an appointment after lunch.
Perhaps you'd care to make it tomorrow?
Yes. Thank you.
Miss Bennett, you must brave the draught in order to reach the restaurant.
Ah, there it is. Taxi.
(Phone rings out)
Oh, I wish I'd waved to her from the bus stop.
Got through to Sandy yet?
No, and I'm not likely to, Victor.
- Oh? - I've just seen her.
Well, that's better than a phone call.
With a man.
She got into a taxi with a man.
Strange man?
He didn't look strange to her.
Why didn't you go after them?
By the time I got over the shock, it was too late to say, "Follow that cab."
- Well, I'm sure there's a rational explanation. - She's off the daytime lease!
No, she is not. And when you get home, don't go dashing in accusing her.
She'll explain all about it and you'll feel such a fool for worrying.
- Won't you? - Yes. Yes. I'm sure you're right.
So cheer up. At least your tummy isn't rumbling now.
Oh, I forgot to have any lunch.
Yes, well, I think that was a very satisfying dialogue, Miss Bennett.
- It is Miss, isn't it? - Oh, yes. It is, Mr Fenton.
Oh, good. Good.
Well, I'll confer with my colleague in this department and we'll let you know.
Fine.
Good heavens. 5:30. Would you care for a drink for the road?
Er... well... erm...
Oh, come, come. I'm a married man, Miss Bennett.
You can trust me all the time.
- That's nice. - All the time my wife's with me.
Come on.
- It's a new one, is it? - Yes, it is.
- You've not been in one before? - No, I haven't.
(Sighs)
Oh, Oliver. You're home.
Yes, I do seem to be.
Sorry, darling. I didn't realise how late it was.
Oh, really? Other things on your mind, eh?
Erm... look, Oliver, I'm afraid the meal isn't ready yet.
No, I thought the oven smelt rather unexciting.
Still, did the flat.
- Did you notice the flat? - Well, I noticed you weren't in it.
Oh, dear. You're cross about the meal. I can tell.
Cross about the meal? Good heavens. When did I ever worry about food?
I mean, all I had to eat today was the offer of an apple.
Which had been eaten.
That's good, darling. You're getting your sense of humour back.
I shall get on with your supper. It won't be long. I promise.
I'm afraid I've cheated a bit and bought some tinned things.
Oh, you shouldn't cheat, Sandy.
Now then... er... you just relax.
Have your drink and I'll get your supper for you.
You've been shopping for supper all day today, have you?
Er...
No. No. Not exactly. No.
No, I reckon you could have scooped this lot up in something under an hour.
So how did you spend the other nine hours today, Sandy?
Well, I told you. I did the flat.
Yeah, that would have taken two, three, four hours. Say, three. Three from nine is six.
What did you do with the other six hours?
Good heavens, Oliver. This sounds like a cross-examination.
It does a bit, doesn't it?
I rang you once or twice to apologise for my behaviour.
- You shouldn't have done that. - No. You weren't here.
At least, I got a man's voice once but that was a wrong number, wasn't it?
Yes. Er... no. No.
No, that was the meter reader. I gave him a cup of coffee.
- Meter reader? - Yes. The... er... gas... meter reader.
It doesn't matter if it was the electric! He was allowed to answer the phone?
Er... well, no.
Did he have any other privileges? Like access to the television set or borrowing books?
Oliver, I am very, very sorry that I wasn't here when you rang.
But... erm... well, as a matter of fact, I went to the West End.
Wasn't I naughty?
I don't know, Sandy. Were you?
Well, I'd... I'd finished everything earlier than I expected.
And the meter reader didn't want to make any more phone calls?
Well, no. He just... erm...
- Look, Oliver, I simply don't understand. - Neither do I!
We've been living together six years, married six months. You have a day off and what happens?
- I gave a meter reader a cup of coffee. - If he was a meter reader.
No! Oh, no. Thank you. I'll take that, if you don't mind.
Thank you very much, madam.
Now, then. We'll see.
- Hello. - Oliver. It's Victor.
I just thought I'd see if I was right.
Oh, Victor. Right?
About everything being OK at home? She's there, isn't she?
- Well, yes. - I knew. I knew.
Well, I'm glad to hear it, Oliver.
And I'm sure you've sorted everything out. But if you haven't, don't forget what I told you.
No recriminations.
No accusations. And kid gloves all the way.
OK?
- OK. - Right. Good luck.
- See you tomorrow. - Bye.
Hello, darling.
That was Victor. Just wondering how you were first day on your own.
Wasn't that kind of him?
Well, my darling, how's the meal coming on? Ooh, looks good. Can't wait.
Like a drink?
Er... no, thanks, I've had a couple already.
What? When? When?
Er... Well, on the way home.
- London always makes me thirsty. - You never go into a pub on your own.
No, well, I wasn't on my own.
A-ha.
Well, I mean, I was on my own but there were other people there.
(Phone rings)
All right, let me get that, thank you very much indeed! I'll take that! Hello?
Oh.
It's Deirdre.
- Hello, Deirdre. - You got it.
- What? - That job at Kingsway.
No!
Edgar's been working late and he just got home. Unofficially, the job is yours.
No!
Congratulations, Sandy. You won't have to chat up any more meter readers now.
I won't have to chat up any more oversexed executives, either.
My dear, in two years' time, you'll be earning more than Oliver.
(Gasps)
Anyway, you'd better go and tell him. We must have a celebration dinner.
Well done, you clever little lady's libber.
- Thanks ever so much, Deirdre. Bye. - Bye.
I've got a job.
What?
That's what I was doing today but I didn't want to tell you in case I didn't get it. But I've got it.
Darling.
- You don't mind? - Mind? What job? Where?
Well, it's a branch of your firm in Kingsway.
- So that's what you were doing in Kingsway. - You saw me?
Er... yeah. Erm... yes.
With Mr Brewster?
Oh, that's what tonight was all about.
I'm sorry.
It's a good job you didn't see me an hour ago with Mr Fenton.
I did.
In his car.
Oh, poor darling. No wonder you were worried.
Two strange men and a meter reader.
Oh, it didn't really worry me.
Anyway, you won't have to worry about anything any more. Not even money.
What? Landed the top job, have you? Must have that drink now.
Well, Edgar says next year this time, I shall be earning more than you.
- More than me? - It's a better job than the one I had before.
More than me?
I think they see me as a sort of industrial Mata Hari.
You know, passing on the secrets of Walters & Maraby.
Hey, do you mind being married to a Mata Hari, darling?
- What's wrong? - Nothing.
I'll get you that drink.
Oliver, something is wrong.
Good Lord!
I have had a crash course in learning your moods tonight, haven't I?
All right. I lost my promotion. I went back to my old job.
I tried for a new job. I was sent away with a flea in my ear. Someone was with Mr Brewster.
Who was with Mr Brewster? My wife.
I'm a failure, Sandy. A great, big whopping failure.
- Oh, darling. - You're putting every foot right.
Every time I make a move, I put my foot right into the nearest cow pat.
No, Oliver.
What you did today was bloody marvellous off your own bat.
Congratulations. But well...
Personal pride isn't always connected with keeping the bank manager happy.
- Personal pride? - Oh, never mind.
You mean me earning more money than you.
All right. Yes.
This time tomorrow, I'll have persuaded myself that everything is OK.
This time next year, I expect I'll have risen to the dizzy heights
of being your own personal private secretary and tea boy.
- Oh, darling. - Don't sympathise with me, Sandy.
Here, you take it. I'm sorry. Go on.
(Clears throat)
Hello?
Miss Bennett?
Yes.
Mr Fenton, here.
Oh.
I really am sorry, darling.
I think Mr Brewster made it fairly clear that our post was open to an unmarried woman.
- Er... yes. - I won't be jealous, I promise.
Pardon?
Oh, these damn phones.
Anyway, I've since found out that far from being single,
you are in fact married to an employee in a branch of this firm.
- Yes. - To hell with personal pride.
Exactly. You are Mrs Oliver Pryde.
- Yes. - I'll be happy to be your tea boy.
Pardon?
Look, I think there's somebody on this line.
Well, I'm sorry, Mrs Pryde but Mr Brewster and I feel we were deliberately deceived.
Er... yes.
With your salary and mine, we'll be rich as Croesus.
I mean, we must have absolute faith in our employee.
Rich as two Croesuses.
- Oh, yes. - Or should it be Croesi?
Look, there is some idiot on this phone.
Er... where was I? Oh, yes.
I'm afraid the unofficial good news you received will not be made official.
Anyway, that's what we're going to be rich as.
Will you get off this line?
I'm sorry, Mrs Pryde.
So am I, Mr Fenton.
- Goodbye. - Bye.
Who's Fenton? It's all right. Only joking.
I've been sacked.
Sacked? You can't have been sacked. You hadn't started.
- Found out I was married. - Well, so am I. They don't sack me.
(Sobs) Oh, Oliver.
Hey. Hey.
- Come on. - That's two jobs in two days.
What is?
Well, yesterday, I lost you your promotion and today I've lost my job.
- Oh, well, I'm glad. - You're not.
Yes. I am. Honestly. It's a very nice feeling knowing there's somebody here
keeping the old place spic-and-span and looking forward to me coming home.
That is, unless she's too busy entertaining meter readers.
Well, I won't deny the money might have been very, very useful,
but I think my being the junior partner might have eventually led
to a few uncharacteristically male chauvinist remarks on my part.
Hm?
Oh, I do love you, Oliver.
Well, I love you.
(Stomach gurgles)
Oh, darling. Your poor tummy. I must get your meal.
- Hey, never mind the meal. - What do you mean?
Well, as you've been denied the chance of being an industrial Mata Hari...
...how about practising a bit of the other thing Mata Hari was so good at, eh?
Ripped By mstoll