RRussell
Party of ten for Swallow Tours. Are you all here? Let me have your tickets and passports, and we'll get you checked through.
Want a Playboy for your Neville?
I'm not getting that, it's disgusting!
[Laughs] Cosmo? Ooh, I'll have that after you.
Listen, pass us down the Nursing News. There's a really good article about... [The rest of their conversation is drowned out by the airport tannoy, and they pick magazines.]
AAAirport Announcer
Passengers for Flight 213 to Málaga to Gateway 2, please.
[To Debbie] I think it's very noble of your dad to bring you and your mum along, you know? 'Cos it'll keep him out of mischief! Listen, d'you know why? Because we're going to be sampling all that pulchritude down there. [Laughs.]
NevilleThere'll not be much of that, man. The tourist season's well finished.
There'll be enough, divvn't you worry. Anyway, with a bit of luck, we'll have sorted summat out before we land.
'Ere! Are you trying to tell me, right, that on this charter tour, there ain't gonna be a surplus of salesgirls, secretaries, hairdressers, the lot, eh? I tell you, we'll be well locked off before we've even landed, son!
RRussell
[At the check-in line] Check-in over here, Mr. Patterson. [The group join the check-in line. In front of them is a large group of pensioners.]
Hold on, what's all this lot, then?
RRussell
It's the Spennymoor & District Senior Citizens Society. They go every year. You were lucky to get those seats! [Wayne's face falls.]
Neville
I wouldn't waste any time, Wayne. I'd steam in now! [Cockney accent] Get it all locked off, son! [Laughs.]
What was it Fraser said aboot us coming doon here? He was sendin' a team doon to help the British unemployed. Ho, ho, what a lot of bollocks! [Takes a swig of a bottle of beer.] It's obvious we're here 'cos there's not a building worker available from Malaga to Gib!
I never saw so much building in all my life!
Neville
It's a brickie's paradise!
Mind, I think it's ruined the view.
Neville
Aye, but think of all the lads they're employing, man. They must all be millionaires.
Y'know, I had a totally false impression of this place. I thought it was all, y'know, yachts, and playboys with Porsches. I've seen more bloody cranes than sports cars!
Yeah, y'see, leisure is the new growth industry of the eighties.
Neville
Not back home, it's not.
We ain't got the climate, have we, Nev? Look, look. [Points to a giant water slide] When would you ever see a bloody water chute in Wolverhampton High Street?
It's nice to think you could retire to somewhere like this. I suppose the best I could hope for is a caravan near Clevedon overlooking the Bristol Channel.
Neville
At least people would talk to you there, Bomb. You'd have neighbours and friends. Where out here, you'd probably wind up next to some people like that couple who hoyed us out of their pool today.
Aye. I know we were trespassing, like, but as soon as I seen his face I hate him. He's just the sort of person that makes you ashamed to be English.
In all fairness, Oz, he probably feels exactly the same about you.
What? Well, he shouldn't, should he? 'Cos I'm isn't. He is. He is. Every time I see his sort, the hairs on me back curl up!
Yeah. A prick, in my language. He's the sort of bloke who'd sit in the golf club all day, moaning and groaning, or write to the papers about [Posh accent] how people don't pull their weight. [Normal accent] Then what does he do when he cops his pension, eh? Whoosh! Body sweve doon to Spain so he'll not get collared wi' nae tax!
Er, when did you last pay your income tax, Oz? Was it...
What's that gotta do with anything?
I thought you lads might be a bit thirsty.
Oh, San Miguel? [Wayne and Nev take a beer from the tray.]
Vicky, just bring that over here, will you? I'll take care of that. [She puts the tray on the table] There you go, gentlemen, help yourselves to a beer. I'll be with you in just a moment. Uno momento. Vicky? [Goes into the villa. Vicky follows.]
Always wondered what our Vicky would look like unwrapped.
Look, Vicky, when we've got these cowboys around the place, it might look better if you didn't go around flaunting yourself.
[Looks down at her bikini-clad body] Who's flaunting?
D'ya think that bikini's the height of discretion? I used to use bigger plasters to cover my pimples.
Yes, well, you don't complain as a rule, do you? [Reclines on the sofa]
Well, as a rule, I don't have seven randy brickies running around the patio!
Well, there's going to be no point in going out is there? I mean, I cannae sunbathe, I cannae go for a swim 'cos there's nae water in the pool, I cannae play me records 'cos I cannae hear them for the concrete mixer...
Are the arrangements not to your liking, Vicky?
Is the villa no longer up to scratch? May I just remind you that two years ago, when you were a manicurist at Maison André, your idea of the holiday of a lifetime was a fortnight at Redcar!
Listen, I travelled before I met you, Ally Fraser. Me and me friend Barbara had two successive summers in Magaluf.
Och, well, in that case... In that case... [Picks up the phone and hands it to Vicky] Why don't you just give Barbara a bell? See if she's still got the tent!
Afternoon, Ally. Didn't expect to see you back this early. [Fraser produces a copy of The Sun.]
Is that an English paper you got there?
That's right, Oz, I've got an English paper. Something I'd like to read to you here, boys, I don't want to take up too much of your valuable time. If you just gather around, please. [The lads down tools and gather round Fraser.] Right. Are we all sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin. [Reads from the paper] "Spain's Costa del Crime is still a haven for the growing band of Brits who Scotland Yard are," quote, "'anxious to question'. Kenny Ames, 47, who persists in denying he was Britain's King of Porn, continues to sun himself on his luxury yacht in Marbella."
Ah, that sounds like the one we were on, is it?
[Continues reading] "No doubt, his companions, newly arrived from England are business associates." [He puts the paper down for the others to see.]
[Pointing to the photo] Hey, that's us!
Hey, look at that! Centre spread!
I've seen much better photos of me than that one, though.
Neville
What's Brenda's folks ganna say?
[He picks up where Fraser left off.] "I spoke exclusively to the new arrivals in their luxury hotel."
"They were evasive about their reasons for being in Spain, one of them claiming that they were members of the Wolverhampton Aqualung Society." [Looks at Barry, then back at the paper.] "Research has shown that no such club exists. Meanwhile, police continue their search for the gang who pulled off the daring payroll robbery in Sheffield last week." [The lads voice their disdain.]
Wasn't that geezer who was buyin' all the booze in the bar the other neet called Nick?
Is this your idea of keeping a low profile?
Why, that story's a load of bollocks!
I know that, and I bet half of Fleet Street knows that, and in their effort to discredit this story they'll be down here buzzing 'round you like flies 'round a jam jar!
Neville
Well, why don't we just tell 'em we're ordinary gadgys?
[Presses the paper to Neville's chest] Working on my villa, I suppose? Well that's precisely exactly what I'm trying to avoid, my friend!
Neville
Oh. Sorry.
Wait a minute, I mean, we can still be ordinary gadgys. Just down here on holiday. We just have to make it look convincing, that's all.
And how do we do that, Dennis?
Well, er... you'd better give us the rest of the week off.
GGeoffrey
Good heavens! Look at this. [Gives the paper to Pauline, who looks at the photo.]
PPauline
I'm not surprised. [Throws the paper onto the floor.] One only had to look at them.
GGeoffrey
I sometimes wonder if Worthing wouldn't have been a better idea.
We're not saying anything.
SSid
All we want to do, love, is clear the air. I mean, all this must be very embarrasing for you back home. Is it?
No. What's embarrassing is having to answer questions from people like you. Now, look, we didn't invite you in here, and we'd be very obliged if you'd kindly leave. [Dennis and Neville enter the villa.]
SSid
[Gets out of the armchair] It's all right, it's all right. Press.
No, it's not all right! What are you doing here?
Neville
[To Brenda and Christine] Have they been asking you questions?
We didn't tell them anything, Neville.
SSid
Neville Hope and Dennis Patterson. Is that right?
Neville
It's about the only thing you blokes have got right.
RRonnie
Oh, smarten up, son. We know you're not villains.
SSid
As we were saying to your ladies, all we want to do is clear the air, get at the truth.
Neville
Oh, howay, we might as well. Gan on, tell 'em, Dennis.
Alright, I am Dennis Patterson, this is Neville Hope. We're brickies, we're from Newcastle and we're here on holiday. That's it. Come on. [Motions for the journalists to leave.]
RRonnie
And what about the rest of the gang?
They're all bricklayers too. We met out in Germany a few years back, and er, this is like a reunion, innit?
Neville
Yeah.
SSid
Right, we'll need names and home addresses so the London desk can check out their backgrounds.
Well, some of these addresses might be a bit vague. Let's see... There's erm, Mr. Osbourne, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Norris, Mr. Busbridge, and, er... what's the name of your mate, Nev, with the spotty face?
Why do I all of a sudden get a dreadful feeling, Nev? Yer kna, like Oz is sticking pins in a Dennis Patterson doll.
[Arrives on the sun terrace with a newspaper. He's very pissed off.] D'you know? Your boys are wasted in the building industry, Dennis! You ought to be organising military coups in a banana republic!
Neville
Has someone been in bother, like?
Oh no, nothing like that, no. They've just spent half an hour slagging off some of the most influential members of Marbella society, of which I am no longer a member!
Dennis I thought it was a bit too good to last, like.
Aye, well you can whistle 'em all back out now because your true and humble status has been revealed to a grateful nation! [Drops the paper beside Dennis.]
Right, first thing in the morn, I'll get them back to work.
No, I've got a better idea, Dennis. Let's have a night shift!
Go 'round to The Office? You sure that's a good idea now they know who we really are?
Oh, I dunno. Ally said they'd still make us welcome. Apparently, they understood we're victims of a press smear. In fact, they symphathise with us.
Neville
Aye, might be some money in it for us, an' all. A few little jobs.
[Scoffs] Probably want us to double-glaze their houses with bulletproof glass.
Don't suppose there'd be any harm in it. Nothing to lose now. Our stigmas have been cleansed.
Neville
Howay, Mox, man! We didn't give your name to the paper! As far as Terry Leather or anybody else is concerned, you're still a man of mystery.
Right, lads. Listen, we'll just play it cool, right? See what they want, and if we don't like the smell of it, we'll politely decline. Okay? [Around the corner from The Office, they spot someone on the roof with a long-lens camera taking photos of them.]
Oh, another bloody journalist! [The lads rush through a door and confront the photographer. Oz snatches the camera]]
Just... calm down! [Oz doesn't listen, he throws the camera off the roof.]
[To the 'photographer'] When are you bastards gonna stop pickin' on wor, eh?
Yeah! Why don't yer leave us alone, you shifty sod? We ain't done nuthin'!
Which particular comic do you work for, anyway? [The 'photographer' takes out his Metropolitan Police ID badge]
BBritish Detective
Shall we say the Police Review?
[Takes the ID badge and examines it.] What, you're the Old Bill, are ya?
BBritish Detective
Scotland Yard Surveillance Squad. And if this wasn't Spain, Albert Arthur Moxey, alias Brendan Mulcahy, arsonist and absconder, your arse would be well and truly nicked!
Oh, I'm not so sure, Bomb. I mean, at Ally's party, you know, in Geordieland, I definitely got a flash off that one.
You mess around with her and bollocks it up for the rest of us, you'll have more than a flash off me, Wayne!
Eh? Don't sermonise me, Bomb! You're not past a bit of lechery yourself. I saw you the other night, down the casino. Two young travel agents from Preston, eh? [Chuckles]
Nothin' I did with them is gonna come back on us lot. [Quiet for sternly] Off limits!
[Now on the terrace] Mornin', lads.
[Hard at work on the tiling in the pool with Neville] Hello.
Neville
How do.
[Stops what he's doing] Right, I'll not be long.
[Inspecting the lads' work] Eee, mind, this place is comin' on. You'll be finished here soon.
[Chucking rocks from the deep end to the terrace] Aye, we divvn't hang aboot, us lot, yer kna.
Er... what are you ganna do when the job's finished, Oz?
Me? I don't kna. S'pose I'll have to gan back and... face the grim reality of Margaret Thatcher's Britain. [Has a swig of his beer.] Unless your Ally coughs up a finishin' bonus, like. Then I can postpone it... for a week.
An', er... take off somewhere, like?
Ah, well, me an' Barry had planned tae have a slow tovy back through France. But now with his, yer kna, fiancée, we've had to give La Français the big E, so to speak. So, I'll be on me own, as usual.
I'm... very sorry if my personal affairs have intruded on your plans, Oz(!)
Not my plans, pal. You were the one that wanted to gan an' see the shite hooses of the Loire.
'Ey, I've always fancied San Tropez, meself. I think there's more nightlife. An', I mean, well, it's more sophisticated than this, like, isn'it?
Oh, aye, yeah. Definitely. Give me San Tropez every time!
Neville
[Fanning himself with his hat] I envy Den, me. At this moment, he'll be sittin' in an English pub, murderin' an English pint.
You're a strange bloke, you are, Nev. Ever since I've known you, you've always wanted to be someplace else. There's people down here paid a fortune to enjoy this hot Spanish sunshine.
Yeah, well he'd rather be drinking warm ale in some manky pub in Gateshead.
Yeah, but if he was there, then he'd wish he was here.
[Still smarting from being carried off by Bomber while in mid-conversation with Vicky the previous night] I reckon that Bomber's on Ally's payroll. Acting like my naffing chaperone. I was on with that Vicky last night, I'm sure I was.
Look, obviously the lass has problems, reet? Obviously, she's vulnerable that this point in time. Even to your transparent overtures. But it's not gonna do us much good, is it? An' it's not gonna do the lass much good if ye leap on her bones!
Oh, I see. So you've joined the moral majority, have you?
What is it with you, eh? I mean, yer nuts aren't gonna gan rusty down here, are they? I mean you've got Spanish boilers, French tarts, German tarts, Swedish tarts, Danish tarts, British tarts... I mean, from Málaga to Gibraltar, it's wall-to-wall totty. So why Vicky, eh? Is it the danger? Does the thought of gettin' yer knees shattered give yer a great big bonk on or summat?
Neville
[Gets out of his deckchair and puts his hat on] Right, lads. Shouldn't we be gettin' back to work?
What's all this? Are you deputy gaffer, or what?
Neville
No, it's just if we start a bit early, we can finish a bit early. Get a few jars in.
Aye, right. [Gets off the cooler he's been sat on. Bomber also gets up.]
Oh, by the way, the drinks are on Haze tonight. She's asked me, like, to ask you, to join us for cocktails at the Hollywood Bar in the port.
'Ey! Well done, Barry, you cracked it! What a strike, kid!
What are you talkin' about?
Barry an' Hazel invite us for cocktails. If any of you know cause, or just im-p-p-pediment ye are to declare it.
Don't be coy, son. An announcement is obviously imminent.
Neville
Yeah. Good lad, Barry. Have you got a date yet?
Look, I'm not getting engaged! Right? It's just that Hazel won some money at the casino last night and she wants us to celebrate.
Oh, er... £500, thereabouts.
Blow me. She's an heiress! I'd shut the gate on that one if I were you!
Neville
Hasn't fallen out yet, pet!
Right, my Lords, ladies and gentlemen, fellow brickies. We are here at the completion of another shining example of British workmanship. I'm sure if our, er, gracious benefactor Mr. Fraser was with us... [The lads boo and jeer] ...he'd want us to celebrate the matter in the usual way. [Takes a swig from his beer bottle before throwing it away, salutes and jumps into the pool. The other lads follow suit. Even non-swimmer Bomber jumps in.]
Neville
Fancy a nightcap?
Neville
[Getting up] Brandy?
Nah, beer for me these days, Nev. [Neville gets a couple of beers out of the fridge and opens one] Hey, it's easy to get used to a life of luxury, isn'it? [Chuckles] Cocktail bar, swimming pool... [Neville hands him the opened beer.] Ta.
Neville
Yeah. [Opens his beer] Back to reality next week, though. We'll just be another couple of Thatcher's unemployment statistics.
Never mind. You'll still have a nice tan down the dole queue, Nev.
Neville
Aye. What are you gonna do? Given it any thought?
Well, I cannae be a brickie again. I cannae face some desolate winter on some North East building site.
Neville
Hmm... I've got nae choice. That's what I am. That's what I do. I'm not ashamed of it, like.
Aye, of course not. Nor should you be. I didn't mean that, man. I'm just talkin' about me, Nev. I need to change me life.
Neville
Does Christine figure in your plans?
I dunno. Well, I'd like her to be, yer kna. But until something materialises, I haven't got much to offer her, have I?
Neville
Ally's money?
[Chuckles] What about it?
Neville
Well... it's just sittin' there, isn'it? Where you hid it, like?
Neville
Well... if I was you, I'd be tempted to keep it and...
Neville
Well, I dunno. Buy a newsagents?
[Rolls his eyes] Oh, lad, you don't set yer sights very high, do yer? I thought you were ganna say, "Take it and bugger off to Brazil, man", not buy a bloody newsagents!
Neville
Aye. There's not enough of it for Brazil, is there?
Auf Wiedersehen, Pet · 320 quotes
