Otley

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You know, as landladies go,

you are undoubtedly the most

warm-hearted,

generous and gracious

that I've ever owed rent to.

Three months is a lot to owe.

I'm expecting a cheque.

I've entered this filthy limerick competition

and I'm almost certain to win.

Not to mention

all the things you've lifted.

Hey, you're a naughty boy,

do you know that?

When you moved in here,

this was a furnished flat.

Now everything's on a second-hand

cart in the Portobello Road.

I never did trust your cleaning woman.

And what about the damaged sink?

And the confirmation medal

in the gas meter?

Dearest one, I thought

you came up here last night

to sample my unbridled sensuality,

not take a bloody inventory.

You are a luxury I can't afford, love.

Still, come here.

Come here and give us a goodbye kiss.

- Goodbye? Where are you going?

- Not me. You.

You're being evicted this morning.

I'm being evicted?

After our night of passion?

Well, I felt I had to get something

out of you before you left.

That's definitely rare, that is.

Genuine Queen Anne.

Well, I mean she had to do something

in her spare time, didn't she?

I wouldn't sell a piece

like that to anyone, lady.

- Got a spare bed at your place, Larry?

- Not tonight.

No, it's not often you get

anything like that, you know.

Hey, any chance of a bed?

And you!

Can you put us up

for a couple of nights?

Well, I'm... I'm sure

we can manage somehow.

Not a chance! You know how

pushed for space we are.

Hey, Rollo and Jean are

giving a party tonight, Gerry.

That'll keep you

off the streets for a while.

We weren't going to invite you.

You'd better come round

about, er, ten.

Oh, cheers.

Can you put us up as well?

- No, we can't.

- Oh, just for a couple of nights.

No. Miles is at home

and the dog's on heat.

Well, she's got nothing

to worry about from me.

Look, er... put this, er...

somewhere, will you, Gerry?

- Six quid?

- I'll take five.

Not from me, you won't!

Morning.

Pint of Guinness, love, please.

All right then, are you?

One thing about February, it makes

being indoors so pleasant.

It's nice, isn't it? Peace offering

for the wife for working on Saturday.

What are that lot drinking

through there? Is it hot wine?

- Yes, claret, mulled claret.

- Oh, that's a good idea.

- Oh, let me.

- No, I'll get these. What will you have?

- Er, brandy.

- A little early in the day.

Same again here, please,

I gave eight pounds for this.

Reasonable?

Yes. Yes, that's very good.

These stains will come off

with a bit of polish, won't they?

They were asking ten.

And what are you asking, Lambert?

Ten thousand.

Ah.

- Soda?

- No, thank you.

- Otherwise you go to Hadrian.

- Obviously.

I don't suppose I've got much choice.

You haven't.

I'm very thin, you know.

You'd hardly know I was in your bed.

You've surprised me, Lambert.

In all these, how many is it, seven

or eight years in the department,

you've never done that before.

Was it born out of

initiative or desperation?

I'm tired of British Februarys.

No doubt this is the last

you'll have to suffer.

With all that money

you have coming to you!

It'll look perfect in the den.

How much does eight pounds

work out at in dollars?

A swindle.

Eric, mon brave!

Didn't you notice me disarming smile?

- It means I want a favour.

- Not a chance.

Oh, then I shall assume

my sickly grin.

Look, Eric, about that sofa I got

for you. The Chesterfield.

What about it?

Somebody could easily sleep on that,

for a couple of nights?

Listen, Eric, do you want

to go to a party?

Apparently in Morocco, it's legal.

Of course, they don't have to

tell you out there.

Miles, will you please go to bed!

Oh, all right, but couldn't you

put on some decent records?

I think Marbella's marvellous.

Isn't one rather liable

to meet one's hairdresser?

Funny lot.

Who's the one getting

all the forelock touching?

Oh, that's one of our best customers,

Alec Hadrian.

Or rather Sir Alec Hadrian.

He's getting a knighthood

in a couple of weeks.

Oh, I didn't see the honours list.

Did I get anything?

Are you red or white?

Oh, you're full.

Oh, Albert, you are a pig!

Oh, Jean, this dip's marvellous!

What's in it?

Erm, nothing special,

the Tabasco helps.

I thought there was Tabasco in it.

- The pub?

- The dip. Tabasco.

It was in 1959, I think,

that they showed some of his stuff

at the Kaplan gallery.

Since then his prices have been

three or four times

what they were before.

What's this one?

That's an early Tabasco.

The Dip.

Gerry, have you met Sir Alec?

He's just...

Oh, yes, yes, I heard. Cheers.

Now who's not got drinks?

A lot of cultural fringe here tonight.

I suppose we'd better

discuss Antonioni.

Oh, no, I can't stand

all that Spanish dancing.

Well, who do you fancy here?

Apart from me, that is.

Anyone who can offer me

a roof over me head.

She looks the sort of bird

who'd have a roof.

Ah, yes..

I hadn't noticed her before.

You can't know many people in here.

When I don't know

many people at parties,

I always pretend to be

immersed in LP covers.

I know the whole of the

West Side Story sleeve notes by heart.

Right down to "Do not touch

the grooves with the fingers

"and avoid exposure to heat or dust."

- I brought you this.

- No, thank you.

But this is real chili con carne,

capturing the full, authentic flavour

of Mexican cuisine.

That's no mean feat when

you realise it's canned in Hull.

- I've captured it already.

- Seconds?

Listen, look, if I do want anything more,

I'll let you know, steward.

Madam, I am not the steward,

I am Gerald Arthur Otley.

To you, Gerry.

Nice house, don't you think?

Yes, very.

Yes, he's a

very tasteful fellow, Rollo.

Have you seen his

William Morris lavatory?

Never by moonlight.

Eric, darling!

I'm so glad you could make it.

Let me take your coat.

Excuse me. The very man.

He's either dead or terribly well,

I can't remember.

Eric, mon vieux!

Let me get you a drink.

Red, white or ros?

It was a good buy, this,

you know, Eric.

Did you a good turn here.

Well, after tonight we're even.

You're a miserable old sod, Eric.

At least you've got

a place of your own.

Mind you, it's all a bit

frayed at the edges.

Like you, with your antique cuff-links

and your drip-dry cuffs.

You are an outstanding success,

are you, Otley?

Eric, you may not be aware

that I was last year's winner

of the Duke of Edinburgh Award

for lethargy.

You see, the thing is, about us

lower middle class

grammar school drop-outs,

we've got nothing to lose.

But you, well,

it must be very difficult,

with your old school tie,

and your family being

something in Rhodesia.

And there are all your

contemporaries cracking it,

all members of Lloyd's

or managing pop groups.

Huh?

I'm going to make some coffee.

Do you want some?

Oh, yes, please.

And, in the morning,

eggs and orange juice

and the News of the World.

I want you out of here

in the morning, Otley.

My Sundays are precious.

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