Spring and Port Wine

It's me, Mother!

Oh Florence, you're just in time. Could you, um...

Run me eye over the housekeeping?

Seem to have got a bit messed up with my figures.

- What, again? - Well, the money's right.

It's just the writing that's wrong.

Right.

- - Go on, go on!

Get off! Go on, go on, go on.

- But you can't take our telly away. - Get off!

Not on a Friday. Oh, shut up or I'll...

Get her off! Just carrying out orders, missus.

- Get off. -

It's either this or money, missus, you're nine weeks in arrears!

Hold on a minute!

I might be able to borrow it.

You have a deficit of one pound seven shillings.

- You mean I'm that out? - Yes, when you've paid these bills.

Could you lend me a pound, love, to make it right?

Put your Dad's mind at rest.

I don't know.

Money has a funny way of slipping through my fingers.

Money has a funny way of slipping through anybody's fingers

if they keep them open.

You're still seven shillings out!

I suppose I paid the window cleaner, which I haven't, since he hasn't been.

- Heaven help you if Dad ever finds out. - Heaven help him.

- Such faith in the poor chap. -

Daisy!

Oh, that's Betsy-Jane.

- Now look, don't let her hold you up. - Daisy!

Remember it's Friday.

Daisy, can you help me? I'm in trouble, dead trouble.

I've got to have six pounds, can you lend it me?

Six? Whatever for?

The television chaps are taking the set back.

Oh, no.

Unless I pay up, I got behind with the payments.

I swear my oath,

I'll let you have it back the minute he hands over his wages.

You couldn't have come at a worse time.

He'll murder me if he gets home tonight and there's no telly.

Well, I could let you have three quid at a pinch.

They won't budge under six.

Well, can't you get three quid from someone else?

Neighbors aren't what they used to be in the old days.

Had it cleaned last week.

Oh, come on Daisy, you can scrape me up the rest.

I know you Cromptons always have money in the house.

Aye, but it's under lock and key.

- You mean, you won't let me have it? - I can't!

Rafe's got this obsession about having things right,

paying on the dot.

Well, why should a man pry into the housekeeping?

It's a woman's job, housekeeping money, always has been.

Long as the bills are paid, I'm happy running home.

You don't run the home, money runs the home!

And that jumped up husband of yours, he handles it all!

How dare you talk like that in my kitchen?

I dare because it's true.

If only you could hear what the neighbors say about you.

What they would do to a man

who tried to run their side of the house.

- Get out. Get out of my house. - Your house! I'll tell you something, hey!

I'll tell you something, bad as I am, I wouldn't swap places with you!

That chap of yours has sucked all the pride out of you!

- Hello! - Aye aye.

- You going to the match Saturday? - Yes, I'm going.

- I'll see you there then. - You might do, they'll lose.

- Aye, aye! - Go to hell.

Hey up.

Hey, what's up?

- There's nothing wrong, is there, Mum? - Would you say I had no pride?

You, Mum? You've pride in everything you touch!

- Have you got your wages? - Sure, why?

- Could you let me have six pounds? - Six?

I'll give them back to you later.

I hope you fall and break your bloody necks.

Thank you, thank you madam.

You touch that thing,

and I'll have cruelty to animals society on you!

- Getting panicked, are you? - You won't even have the chance.

- What the hell do you want? - Me mum sent you this money.

- She's not, has she? - Aye, why, what's up?

- She's a right good neighbor. -

Hey, hold on a minute, you sods! Hey, hang on, wait! Get off, Shaggy!

Pack it up, will you?

Hello, love!

Put that back where you found it, and see that it's in working order.

Come on, Joe.

Where's mum?

She's run off with the milkman.

Funny.

- Get off! - Here I am, love. Hello!

- I've had a lovely party at work. - Yeah, you look it.

One of the mechanics got married,

so all the weavers pulled together for a cheese and wine party.

Springtime orgies in the weaving shed?

We only had cider in my time.

Aye, things were tight during the Boer War.

Cheeky.

Afraid there's no letter for you, love.

They've forgotten you.

I don't care.

Mum, shall I start frying the herrings?

No love, you can help me lay out the table.

- Oh, we're not having herrings? - Why, what's wrong with them?

- I've gone off them. - Funny.

- Hello Mum, what's funny? - Nothing.

Your Dad asked for them special.

- Him, well, I won't eat any. - We'll see.

- I'm telling you, I won't. - Oh, you will.

You'll dance to your daddy, my bonnie lassie.

You'll dance to your daddy, my bonnie lass!

You'll get a fishy on a little dishy,

you'll get a fishy when your dad comes home!

Dad! Dad, dad, dad. It's all dad in this house,

you'd think the sun shone out of his backside.

Out the way, love.

Turn it!

Hurry up! Hurry up!

Kick it! Kick it!

Don't blame you two.

There's mud on this...

Never had a ball like that in our day.

We were glad of an old tin can.

Aye, don't know they're born.

If Dad comes home and catches you in his chair...

Listen, he's got any complaints, tell him to come to me,

- I'll tell him where he gets off, right. - Get your greedy feet, please.

Hello.

Aye, he's coming down that road.

Who do you think you're kidding?

- He's not, is he? - Yeah.

Well, why the hell didn't somebody tell me?

Well, help me somebody. Mum, Mum!

Turn the telly on somebody, to get his mind off things!

Come on, move! He'll be in in a minute!

Listen to that silence.

It's rarer than gold, these days.

- Hello, Dad. - Mother.

- Had a hard day? - Not hard, but wearing.

Expect it tolls on you by weekend.

OG and Seller, night of sex and drugs.

Why soil your mind with that stuff, child?

After all, it is the truth, Dad.

Nay son, it may be fact, but it's never truth.

You see that Holy Bible, lad,

there might not be one single undisputed fact in it.

But who dares say that every word isn't God's truth.

- Your slippers, Dad. - Thank you, Florence.

Truth is a spiritual thing, it survives the centuries

but filth is for the moment.

Helps them sell their magazines.

When I do count the clock that tells the time,

and see the brave sun sunk in hideous night.

When I behold the violets past prime,

and sable curls all silver'd o'er with white.

When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, which...

Erst from heat did canopy the herd.

- Thank you very much. - Don't mention it.

Folk would think you were daft

if you walked about with a book of poetry under your arm.

If most folk were to know what other folk think about them,

they'd drop dead from shock.

Some would, that's for sure.

- - Hey.

Dad, would you like to take our money now?

I might as well.

In this day and age, thank God my mates can't see me.

There you are, Dad.

Thank you, Florence.

Hilda's money, Dad.

Thanks.

- And here's my wich bagging money, Dad. - Thank you, Wilfred.

I say, Dad.

I say, I'll just feel cold about doing the Messiah next Monday.

Yes, I'm hoping to be there.