Miranda

Oh! Look, toast spoons!

Oh, I'm feeling good about today. It's got a sort of frisson about it.

So, news.

Mike and I are still together, all good,

but when he tells me he loves me, I freak out, can't say it back.

I love you.

Oh, well, well done and you're welcome and what a boost!

It's a fan hand forsooth, sir!

I need to workshop the issue with Stevie but we've fallen out.

Apparently I've ignored her since having a boyfriend.

Objection, my lord!

Although at disco karaoke finals...

What else to impart? Mum's having a tennis club dinner tonight.

She doesn't want me there. Apparently I let her down last year.

Side bar, m'lord!

Oh, I'll serve drinks.

I don't know who this woman is.

Right! I declare this cheeky little day

ready and open for the business we call life!

Gary, look at you in your own restaurant.

Are you renaming it?

What? "Gary's"? What's wrong with Gary's?

Well, it's like a greasy spoon.

Yeah, it's like, it's like a chippy, Gary's, isn't it?

Yeah. No, seriously, what are you calling it?

That's lovely, no, that's perfect. It's very you. It's very you.

Manly, yeah.

Manly? Good because now manning up to put sign up.

Good luck, man who gets nervous voting for Strictly

and is scared of mice and geese?

It's the hissing. They hiss.

Morning, Stevie, do you want to join?

Fine on my own.

Struggling to get on the stool, are we?

Pretending this isn't our second breakfast, are we? I won!

Guys, I don't need this today!

Our family dog, my dog, Daisy, might have to be put down.

But more importantly, hello, restaurant opening tonight?

More importantly?

OK, can we all just calm it, please? Everyone seems at odds. Just calm.

Do you know what my favourite three little words are?

All day breakfast.

I'm going to start doing it.

It's the best thing since sliced bread. It IS sliced bread.

Then it's toasted and an egg's popped on.

Mike, please ask your girlfriend, who loves you so much she... Well.

Ignores best friends, if she would for once share her pancakes?

Oh, sorry about this! Oh, no, I really am sorry.

I mean, if I could stop, I would.

Well, that is it.

I will show you how angry I am by my exit march.

See my physical anger!

Strutting like an ageing majorette, are we?

I'm going to have to dash. I will see you later. OK.

Mwah. I love you.

Oh! Well, um...

Hello?

Thank you, Mike. I don't need a man who cries about a dog to show me...

Actually Daisy's been with us for 15 years.

How do you turn this turn on?

It's not just me that's finding this erotic, is it?

Keep wielding, men!

Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, Stevie...

Mike just told me he loved me again and I couldn't reply.

Talk to the face cos the hand ain't listening!

It's the wrong way round. Yeah.

Oh, come on, Stevie. I need you.

We're like a sofa and a little pouffe.

It's clean sheet night tonight.

Who am I going to change my duvet with?

We could play Sheet Over Head Guess What Fruit's Being Thrown At You?

You love that!

Delicious to talk to you, darling. Lots of love, bye! Ghastly woman.

Who is?

You're still on speaker. She's still there, she's still there.

Ghastly woman I see before me...

Er, y-yes, Miranda! Ha-ha-ha! Bye, Belinda.

She's convinced that my tennis dinner

won't be nearly as good as hers last year.

Over my yoga-plated, flab-free, super firm, what-I-call buttocks.

Now, do you think that Mike would...

What's happening?

Oh, Raymond Blanc! You look like you're doing Riverdance.

You'd be the same if your pin-up suddenly walked in.

Is Gary Barlow here? Is Theo Paphitis here?

Theo Paphitis?!

I could ask Raymond to the dinner.

If I got a celeb to the do, in your face, Belinda!

Bonjour, Monsieur Blanc.

Bonjour, mademoiselle.

Erm, je suis avoir un soiree.

Je voudrais vous... tu?

Sorry. Spat!

Pour le mingling.

And I can give you a good function.

No, no, no, I don't mean... Unless...

Haw-hee-haw!

Pardon!

He's going.

Don't start stalking again!

I'll observe with binoculars at the minimum distance

as laid down by Barry Manilow's lawyers.

I presume you're still not speaking to me.

So, as your superior,

I would like you to send off this letter to British Gas.

Thanking you.

Tripped. I meant to. I meant to go up the stairs like this.

Right! OK, I can change a duvet cover on my own.

Don't need her help, it's fine.

Stevie!

I can't find the right corners!

Stevie! Be my friend again?

Wallet, wallet, where, where, where, where?

Table, table, table.

Everyone's at odds, odds, odds!

Seriously now, Stevie, what happens if he says "I love you" again?

OK, this is code red.

Amber alert rising to pink, dogger moving east, showers later.

That's the shipping forecast!

You! How do I tell someone I love them?

Oh, um, write it on a muffin and give it to him.

Well, even if I knew how to make a muffin,

I wouldn't have time to make a muffin. He's upstairs!

I didn't know that! Think!

Sorry I shouted. Crazy day.

Um, I... No, I'll tell you later.

I love you. Well, I, erm, I...

I...

That was your fault.

Right, help me workshop why I can't say I love you.

Stay and hang. No, I really should be... STAY AND HANG!

Right, well, what springs to mind when I say, "what do you love?"

Good, liking this. Don't worry, Stevie, I've got a new friend.

Strutting like a toddler modelling Baby Gap, are we?

Right. OK, what do you love?

Doughnuts. Again, what was your first love?

Doughnuts.

More emotional. What makes your heart skip?

Doughnuts.

I think I know what this means.

You're not in love your boyfriend. Only fair to split up with him.

What? What? You can't leave me with that!

Oh, my lovely Mike! I'm going to beanbag.

Stevie! Stevie!

Miranda?

He said... All right, calm.

Now, step back! I'm Miranda's number one workshopper.

She's emotionally constipated and I'm her metaphorical prune.

She's back. Love oo!

Love oo! Love oo!

No!

Now, as this suggests,

Mike is not what makes your heart skip.

I mean you love him but you're not in love with him.

That's why you can't say it. I'm right, aren't I?

Yes.

Oh, my Marple!

Now, we need to work out how you'll end it.

Can't she just tell him? Just tell him? This guy!

Miranda can't be direct. It's a condition.

I call it Pushy Mother-itis and Acute Englishness-ness-ness.

She had to write a letter to switch gas suppliers.

Too scared to ring.

They make me feel guilty. I end up signed to all protection plans

and offering them a place to stay if they ever visit from Mumbai.

I mean to be fair, Raj and Miri were very nice.

Oh, they were lovely.

I'm gonna have to write Mike a letter, it's only way.

It's too mean! Come on. Think and pace.

No, I really should... THINK AND PACE!

Well, we've run out of options.

Well, I've written him that letter. You can't send that.

Why can't you be less mimsy?

What's going on? She can't be direct because of a pushy mother.

She loves very much!

That's my mother. Oh, heavens above!

We don't know.

I'm not pushy.

Miranda, you are to drop everything and order Mike to help me tonight.

I can't find Raymond but Mike could get us news coverage for the dinner.

Isn't that Raymond Blanc?

Where? Where? Oh, get out of the way!

What's going on? We're workshopping

because she realises she doesn't love Mike.

Mike Owen! Mike Owen!

Mark Owen. I don't love Mark Owen.

Nor do I. I love Gary Barlow!

That's Mike. This is a nightmare!

She loves Gary Barlow. I love Mark Owen.

He loves Mark Owen. I love Robbie Williams.

We're setting up a Take That tribute band.

It's too much.

Right. I forgot I need a tie. I left one here.

And, er, we need to have a talk at some point.

Ah, but what does he need to talk about?

If I'm not mistaken he's got proposey eyes.

Don't be ridiculous, she's splitting up with him.

Oh, but I'm still mimsy.

The thought of telling him, he's so gorgeous.

And the other thing is... well now it looks like I'm talking to no-one!