The Largest Theatre in the World: Heart to Heart Page #13

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cats are what my dear wife

really worships and so do I.

We have cats in our house, you know,

the way other people have mice.

-Now he's gone too far.

-He hasn't, you know.

James's mother, Elizabeth the Third,

had been run over.

Oh, a really horrible accident.

The poor thing lingered on

but I better not talk about it because

my wife might be listening...

Elizabeth the Third's rather a nice name

for a cat. I must remember that.

I don't mean it to.

No, I broke the law,

I must take the consequences.

So, from tomorrow on, I'm just

plain Stan Johnson,

not Minister of Labour,

maybe not even an MP,

if my constituency chucks me out

as they have every right to do, mind.

Just common old Stan,

who once made a bloomer,

and years later had to pay the price.

You know, I think he should do

more television.

I think that's about all,

ladies and gentlemen,

I'm sorry it had to end that way but,

there it is.

In conclusion, I can only say that...

Joe, the second he ends his speech,

we go to final captions,

no closing drill, no going to David

for a plug, no nothing. Do you get that?

-The timing's gone.

-I beg for a chance.

-If one day you'll forgive me...

-But that's my can to carry, not yours.

In whatever capacity you might

feel right.

But if you don't forgive him, mind you,

he doesn't think you should,

he will take his medicine

and you will hear no more from him.

He'll blame no one at all

except himself. Otherwise, no one.

Leave alone his grand inquisitor,

Mr David Mann,

and this fine, truthful show,

Heart to Heart.

Good night, ladies and gentlemen.

A plug, yet.

If they kick him out of politics,

we can use this character on the show.

Cut sound, start titles.

Number one, track in, as usual.

-Grams up!

-Kick him out of politics?

You think he's got away with it?

Stand by, announcer.

Why are you a producer

and me just a menial?

What about David?

Well, it's a question I'm always asking.

Have you got a cigarette?

About even money?

Tonight's show will make the front page

of every newspaper all over the world.

Stockton will have to coin some such

immortal phrase

as "we made television history." Sorry.

(ORCHESTRAL MUSIC PLAYING)

-Are those ruddy cameras still on us?

-Yes, they're still on us, Sir Stanley.

But ought you to be smiling? I mean,

won't they all think it's a put-up job?

You'd like me to register facially

my disapproval of a loving husband,

who once contravened

the currency regulations

in order to console his wife

for the loss

of her cat Elizabeth the Third,

-mother of her present cat, Charles.

-Charles?

Damn it. Well, there aren't many

that know its real name anyway.

-Are they still on us?

-I'll tell you when they're off.

-They're off.

-Thank the Lord!

MAN:
Right! Wrap it up, studio!

Thank you, one and all.

There was a bit of a muck-up somewhere

but it wasn't our fault.

-Well, who do you think won?

-Won?

-The fight?

-Fight?

-Between you and me.

-Oh, you won that fight hands down.

Well, was there another fight?

Yes. Not between us. Between me and me.

I think I won it. I think so.

Are you cuckoo or something?

Did you have that slide and that tape?

No, of course I didn't.

I was pretty sure you didn't.

Still, I couldn't take the risk now,

could I?

I suppose the viewers are telephoning

in the hundreds.

-How are the calls going?

-Well, I've just checked.

-Two hundred and eighty four in already.

-Yes.

Well, out of those 284,

2 72 say that Sir Stanley must not,

on any account, resign.

And of those twelve, five said that

the whole thing was a put-up job.

What did I tell you?

It was the smiling after...

And four said that they hoped

that we'd repeat it tomorrow

because they'd like another chance

to make up their minds.

-That still leaves three.

-Yes, well...

They think that Sir Stanley

should resign.

Well, well, well!

-That was a bit of a mix-up, wasn't it?

-I'm sorry...

Well, don't apologise.

We made television history!

Stanley, it's going to be all right.

You've heard how the calls are going?

-Yes, very gratifying.

-Well, I made it my business

to see that that information gets

the fullest publicity by tomorrow.

A certain feeler I've had

from a certain quarter,

I don't think a certain

very important person

can possibly ignore the expressed and

the declared will of the people.

Well, in a democracy,

it's that which must

in the long run, count, mustn't it?

Mind you, my resignation still goes in

in the morning.

Of course!

Now, let me take you off for that pint.

Beers for the cameras.

Do you know what I want?

It's a quadruple brandy.

-Well, dear, how do you think it went?

-Oh, I felt so ashamed,

you know, you had a little tear

in the corner of your waistcoat.

Yes, well, I want that brandy.

I'll get it. Oh, David!

-I brought Peggy down.

-Yes, I see you have.

She's had some news

which I have just given her

which she wants to pass on to you.

Better from her than from me, I thought.

That's very considerate of you,

Mr Stockton.

Good night to you both.

Good show, Frank.

You handled that wonderfully!

And so did you, Mrs Weston.

Well, I'll be seeing you both.

Well, go ahead and tell David.

Good night, boys!

Great show you did tonight! Great!

I thank you all from the bottom

of my heart.

You may not know it,

but tonight we made television history!

Oh, darling, darling!

I'm so excited,

I can't say much more than that.

Frank, I haven't got my car.

Can you give me a lift home?

-Oh, yes. Sure.

-Jessie, come home with me.

-I can't, he'll be waiting.

-Frank?

Yes, please! I need a drink.

I need 10, I think!

Peggy, you go with Frank.

I'll drop Jessie.

David, darling, I have some

very exciting news for you,

you know that the controller

told me to tell you?

Yes, that will keep till we get home.

-Go with Frank.

-Of course.

Well done, darling.

I am very proud of you.

You must be having heart failure

up there in the control room.

You can imagine how I was feeling

in the projection room.

Yes, Peggy, yes, I can.

So, I failed, didn't I?

-Well, it depends what you mean by fail.

-Oh, don't.

I hate failure.

Even more than you hate success.

You didn't fail.

Oh, three,

out of two hundred and eighty four.

A little more than one hundred.

How many voters are there

in this country, Mr Mann?

I don't know. You tell me.

You're bound to know.

Well, I don't.

I only know that those three tonight

are going to be three thousand tomorrow,

three hundred thousand the day after.

Why not, maybe three million

on the day it really matters.

Women always exaggerate so ridiculously.

Anyway, your arithmetic is absurd.

Oh, sure. But absurd or not,

it will stop Sir Honest Stan ever being

Prime Minister of this country.

And that's no woman's exaggeration,

Mr Mann.

One day, your name will appear

as a footnote

in the political history of England.

Oh! Who the hell wants to be

a bloody footnote?

You do. Come on.

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