This Beautiful Fantastic Page #2

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He can work for me.

What?

What?

You could work for me,

if you wanted to.

I do,

I do want to.

Yeah, I do.

Ah, so, it looks like I'm working here now.

So, you are trespassing.

Well, make the most of it.

You deserve each other.

We'll keep my usual payday,

first of the month, thank you.

Good!

I may have been

a little hasty.

No, no, no!

That's good, that's good.

It'll be a new, fresh start.

I don't know

how I'll pay you.

It's ok, he'll pay me,

so you don't have to.

I'll show that mean old man

what he's missing.

Have you already

got a cleaner?

Just me.

Alright

There's cleaning and

there's cleaning.

Eh, please don't do that.

There's only some things that

a professional

can spot.

Oh, my god!

I can't be late for work again.

Please don't touch anything.

Good.

Let's go.

Hello!

Gian Lorenzo Bernini.

Sculpture or architecture?

Oh, Sculpture, of course,

every time.

It's the 4th aisle

on your right, top left shelf.

Top left. Thank you.

Do you know the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa?

Yes, I've seen pictures.

You must see it in the flesh.

It's incredible.

He makes tons of marble

simply float.

It defies gravity with beauty.

It destroys logic with emotion.

Horticulture.

Sorry.

How is it?

It's wonderful.

Well, the vegetables haven't

been tinned for two decades, so

you'll actually be able to taste them.

Where did you learn

to cook like this?

My mum, God rest her.

She was a cook?

No, she couldn't cook for toffee.,

So, I had to take matters into my own hands

as soon as I could reach the stove.

Bella, look, there's something

I have to tell you...

I did your laundry today and

I threw in some of the girls' stuff

and, uh,

I think it was

this little fella to blame.

I'm so sorry.

It's ok.

I'll put them over here.

I...Sorry!

Give me back my cook.

Who is this?

Your nemesis.

Alfred Stephenson,

your next door neighbor.

Oh, hello. I'm sorry

for the inconvenience...

Give me back my cook!

Miss Brown?

I haven't got all day, Miss Brown!

I wasn't expecting you til the

start of the month, Mr. O'Brien.

I'm here on urgent business, Miss Brown,

a matter of great importance!

Now then, let me see,

Flat 2, 6 Primrose Gardens.

I have the appropriate paperwork

pertaining to the property

and the relevant

photographic documentation.

Ah, this is all shipshape, Miss Brown,

very soothing on the eye.

Of course.

But I've received a complaint.

What? From whom?

Oh, my word!

This is worse than I expected!

You agreed to keep the property

in sond repair, Miss Brown.

This property, Miss Brown,

includes the garden.

I know.

I'm not much for the great outdoors,

I'm more of a...

I'm a fair man but

I am bound by the law,

as detailed in the contract

signed by your good self.

I have a dislike...

more of a distaste of...

You see, plants and I don't really

get along, so it's not really

neglect. It's more of a

fear and loathing but I

I promise you, I can fix that.

Everything will go back to normal.

The laws are there to

provide boundaries, Miss Brown.

This wanton level of neglect falls

well within your legal obligations

and you are, therefore, in breach.

Good morning.

I'm Vernon.

I'm Miss Brown's

partner.

Eugene O'Brien, landlord. We were just

discussing the spectacular level of neglect

relating to the

29ft north-facing garden

with lawns and

well stocked borders.

Alright, yeah, we were just

about to get into the garden.

Yeah, that's a major priority.

That's top of the list.

I'm afraid it's too late for that.

I shall have to ask you to

vacate by the end of the month.

Were you expecting

Mr. O'Brien this morning?

I wasn't.

Alright .

And you made an appointment?

I beg your pardon?

Section 34 of the Property Act:

A landlord must give clear warning

if he wants to inspect the property.

Very well, we'll come back later, then.

Too late, it's not convenient.

A convenient date must be mutually agreed

That's Section 17C.

Tomorrow then.

Tomorrow's no good.

Friday?

Friday...

No, can't do Friday.

Next Monday?

Next Monday's no good.

Alright then, when?

One calendar month's notice,

Section 17C.

You know that.

There will be repercussions,

Miss Brown!

If this garden's not fixed,

you're out on the street.

You have exactly

1 month from today.

What's the matter?

I'm kidding myself. I'm no writer

and I'm certainly no gardener.

What are you talking about?

Of course, you're a writer.

No, I'm not.

And...I know I'm to be evicted and then

I'll be homeless and you'll be unemployed

and it's all my fault.

Oh, I see.

You're feeling sorry for yourself.

No!

I mean, you have to look at the facts.

You have to weigh it out.

What?

Stand up.

Come on.

Just stay still.

I won't hurt you.

When was the last time

you were hugged?

It's been a while.

Alright, get on with it.

Lonicera aureoreticulata.

Honeysuckle, to you.

Though personally, I think they look better

when they're attached to the plant itself.

And look right next to it,

delphinium.

Great big iridescent blue flowers,

before you cut them up into little pieces.

I think they were the last living things

in your horticultural graveyard.

I was just trying

to tidy up a bit.

I think that's what Hitler

said about Europe.

Anyway, enough

of this smalltalk.

Give me back my cook!

What?

No!

Give him back,

I need him!

Well, you should have thought about that

before you treated him like dirt.

Stop... Don't act like a little girl,

give me my cook back!

Give him back!

I can't hear you.

What is wrong with you?

You could come

and help, you know.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I would but...hay fever,

chronic allergies.

My head swells up like a pumpkin.

I'm no use to man or beast,

I'm sorry.

There you go.

It may look like a

simple quiche and salad

but the balsamic reduction

and the onion glaze elevate it

to something

altogether more satisfying.

Enjoy!

I didn't want to have to

spell it out to you but

I'm a dying man.

Unlike you,

I don't have long left.

Time is my enemy.

i mourn every minute.

Every precious second marks

my life draining away.

That's dreadful,

I had no idea.

I don't have much to give me comfort,

no friend, no family, no one to love

I only have the beauty of nature

and the promise of

a hearty last meal.

I beg you,

send Vernon home to me

and we can put all this

silly mess behind us.

I had no idea you were so ill,

I'm so sorry but I can talk...

What are you doing?

Don't listen to that.

He's dying!

Why didn't you tell me?

The old coot's been dying

for the last 10 years.

Vernon!

Ok, let me guess.

Was it, ehm...

"Time is my enemy,

I mourn every minute,

I mourn every second", or

was it:
"I have no friends,

I have no family,

I have nothing...nothing."?

He used both.

Oh, hey, so

he's getting desperate.

Perfect.

It's shut.

It's bloody shut!

Sorry, Miss Bramble. Problem

with the buses this morning...

I think the problem is with you,

not with public transport

and I wouldn't be making this point if

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