"Why don't you have your meeting here today?" "Just call your people..." "Alarm, alarm, CCTV!" "And call your people and have the meeting here." "What colour was that colour?" "Speed, speed, Patsy." "Speed today." "Well, look who it is." "Miss Lazy, Lazy, Lazy Woman." "And her scrawny friend." "Stopping in at the spa because you think you deserve it." "Just like all the other women that come in here." "Lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy women needing time out from their privileged lives." "Spoilt, stupid... and lazy!" "What!" "Is your little daughter out of prison now?" "Yes, she is." "Are you working today?" "I'm working now, thank you." "I'm always working." "Fat woman." "Come in here and you stuff your rich face with naughty cupcakes and then cry, "I have to go for a detox."" "Well, there's not enough herbs and lemon can take the poison out of you." "Look at the yummy mummies come in here." "Soft, skinny women come in and have their sad little bones massaged." "So tired, so stressed from having two children and a big house." "And then telling me how poor they are and how I've made them sane again." ""Do you know the Cotswolds?"" "I want to kill them." "Kill them!" "Get me the Harper's and Tatler." "Hey." "What?" "You've mellowed." "Yeah, I like these nails." "Fabulous." "Although I quite like gels, I might have mixes." "I don't know what to have next time." "Are you working, darling, today?" "Yeah, I've got my office set up." "Working here?" "Yeah." "A little Chanel, ha ha ha!" "Well, not all day." "I'll see you for lunch." "No, no, I'll see you at lunch." "So, January issue." "Bulimic." "Foetus." "No, the intern's not here yet." "Fabulous." "Darling, what's happened?" "A little bit of a Princess Margaret?" "No, well..." "Go on, tell her." "It's hysterical!" "It's not hysterical." "In fact, it's very painful." "No, really, it's very funny." "Look, just tell me what happened." "Well, I... had a fish pedicure." "Which is not what it sounds because fish don't have feet." "No, it's where they nibble off all the hard bits and one nibbled on a soft bit and once one had drawn blood it was a feeding frenzy." "Where is that bloody intern?" "I want to finish this before lunch." "I thought we might run something on the credit crunch." "The what?" "The credit crunch." "The what?" "The credit crunch." "The what?" "The recession." "Don't be an idiot." "Our super-rich readers are untouched by the recession." "This magazine is the Os catalogue for the fabulous, diamond-studded whores of the oligarchs." "Darling, they know nothing of the breadline." "They don't do carbs, they do caviar." "Sorry." "I've been waiting." "Sorry." "So, did you meet the advertisers?" "Yeah." "And did you check out this month's productions?" "Yeah." "Did you talk through the layouts?" "Yeah." "Did you do all the returns?" "Yes." "And, I had lunch with Karl Lagerfeld." "Why?" "He's this month's main feature." "I love Karl." "Adore." "But what's happening with his ponytail?" "He's thinning." "He's bald!" "Darling, he's got a comb-over from a nose hair." "Genius!" "I need more fags." "Wha..." "But..." "Don't "but" me, you little snotrag, just go." "Why am I doing this?" "It's work experience." "Right, here we go, here we go..." "Darling?" "I need this table." "Mum, I'm having a meeting about the charity." "God, is this a new one?" "Who?" "That." "Just don't speak to me, please, Mum." "Leave me alone and get on with your own useless existence." "Right, agenda." "Now, we need to talk about the Keecha Project and Wellgild and I need a field report on fundraising activities." "How was it?" "Really hard." "Sorry." "For heaven's sake." "All right, I've got ideas." "Take down my ideas." "Here we go, here we go, here we go." "Brainstorm." "Stop it!" "What?" "She's writing on it." "On the pad." "No." "That's ridiculous." "Why are you doing that?" "It's a pad!" "She's an idiot." "She knows nothing." "No, I know too much." "That's why I'm here." "Yeah, all right." "Shall I do it?" "No, you just do what you're paid to do." "I don't get paid." "All right, do what you're not paid to do." "Do the mid-morning lunch run." "Go on, two sushis and a bacon sandwich now!" "Have you got a report?" "Day one, welcome songs and speech." "Day two, drive into Kasumu City buying materials for the chicken coop." "Day three, thought I had malaria but it was just sunstroke." "God, stop it." "Will you stop it?" "All right, just... stop it now, just send it to me." "I should've gone." "I know Africa." "I'm married to an African." "I have a child in Africa." "Yeah, child in Africa, mm-mmm." "Just go." "But what about the fundraising, the bring-and-buy, the car washathon?" "Just go, please." "The car washathon?" "Shut up." "A car washathon, darling?" "How much is that going to raise?" "Sixpence, is it, sweetheart?" "Actually, I could get you people who could fill your coffers, darling." "I could get you Liz Hurley." "Get Liz Hurley." "Elizabeth Hurley?" "Yes." "Eeh, come on, old girl." "Someone muck her out whilst I take her down the red carpet." "Clip, clop, clip, clop." "It's only another charity do, Lizzy." "Take her out, take her out." "Take her upstairs." "Come on, let me put you out to grass." "Can you manage these stairs with your Gucci hooves?" "Just..." "Clippety clop, clippety clop." "Neigh, neigh, neigh." "Darling." "Shall I rub your marma points, marma points, marma points?" "It's a Kabbalistic tool." "All right, Mum, I was just..." "I was just thinking about Jane." "Lola, darling?" "Is she going to come back from Africa soon, darling?" "Why would I want Jane to have anything to do with you?" "A sad, fat woman who contributes nothing to this world?" "I work, darling, I work." "No, no, you don't." "You have spent all morning having your nails done." "You live off other people." "You invent a purpose for yourself." "That is not a real job." "You only have two clients and they both hate you." "You're a sad, useless failure that nobody wants to know." "Now why would Jane want to know you?" "You were a terrible mother and you're an even worse grandmother." "With very good nails." "Cheer up, Eddy." "Don't let the little tick get to you." "Darling, from the mouths of little ticks sometimes come little tick truths." "Are you eating?" "No, I got it for you." "Darling, I'm trying not to eat." "I don't want two lunches." "But I like doing things for you, Eddy." "Just chew and spit." "Don't waste it." "All right, I won't waste it." "I'm sorry, madam, you can't smoke in here." "Mais avez-vous aucune idee qui suis-je?" "Eddy, Eddy, Eddy, Eddy?" "Yes, Pats, Pats?" "Eddy, do you know who that is?" "No." "Christ, it's Jeanne Durand." "Jeanne Durand?" "Yeah, it's THE Jeanne Durand." "THE Durand." "I go for a cigarette, you make a decision." "Imagine who she's worked with." "Yeah." "Truffaut, Chabrol, Polanski." "Names, names, names." "French names, French names, French names." "Jeanne Durand." "Saffy likes Jeanne Durand." "She's got her poster in her room." "Well, I like Jeanne Durand." "Yeah, you do." "The look that speaks volumes and the mouth that says nothing." "Yeah." "She looks good, doesn't she?" "Yeah." "Well, she's French." "Yeah, I know, darling, but you know, Bardot?" "Well, if you can't save the face, save the animals." "Whose idea was this?" "Come on." "Let's get out of here before she comes back." "Jeanne Durand." "Darling, imagine how proud Saffy would be, and Lola, darling, if I knew Jeanne Durand." ""Come over for lunch"" "because Jeanne Durand's going to be there." ""Come over for dinner, meet Jeanne Durand."" "I would be the person who had Jeanne Durand." "Darling, I could represent her." "Whoa, steady, darling, steady." "What, what?" "Well, the woman's not..." "What?" "She's not an idiot." "So, what is the decision?" "I'm not happy, I can tell you." "Dear." "Can we make you happy?" "You see, why can't you understand?" "I don't want to be heavy, I want to be light." "I've always been a comic actress." "Yeah, yeah." "I'm laughing now." "But really, I want to sing." "I only have ever wanted to sing." "Of course, of course." "Like Marlene, like Piaf." "Le Petit Filou." "Oui, absolument." "A singer, singing, yes..." "Darling, darling, darling, can she sing, can she sing?" "Of course she can sing." "She was one of the" "Singing Brellas Of Cherbourg." "Perfect." "Yes, of course, Miss Durand." "I mean, what would you like to sing?" "Gainsbourg, Piaf, Brel." "Light, light." "Go for it, Eddy." "Yes, well, I'd be very proud to represent you in a tour of singing." "La Durand, Carnegie Hall." "Yes, perfect." "J-j-je suis tres..." "Heureuse." "Heureuse!" "And..." "Gras." "Je suis tres heureuse et tres, tres gras." "Oui." "Oi, garcon." "Champagne." "What have you got on here at the moment?" "The Proms." "Yes, I love the Proms." "So do I. It's been so popular that we've actually had to stop people clapping between movements." "At the Proms?" "Anyway, I want it for Jeanne Durand." "Yeah, Jeanne Durand." "THE Jeanne Durand." "An Evening With." "Singing." "I'm just going out here." "Can you say something?" "I'll see if I can hear you." "All right, darling." "I absolutely adore Durand." "This couldn't be a more perfect venue." "Well, we'll see, frankly." "Can you hear me, Eds?" "Yes, I can hear you, darling." "Can you hear me?" "Yeah." "Sing something." "She will be using microphones, presumably?" "Yeah, have you got mics?" "Yes." "Good." "Sing, Eds." "What should I sing, what to sing, what to sing, what to sing...?" "Hello?" "Hello?" "What?" "So, when did you want to book the hall?" "I have dates in 2015." "2015?" "!" "No, soon." "Don't give me 2015 or I'll have you clapping between movements for the rest of your life." "We only have one night in the next four years and that's this Sunday night." "Someone died." "Good." "Book us in." "Durand Sings." "I've just been on the phone to the Albert Hall, darling." "It's all booked." "I've struck a pretty good deal..." "70/40 split." " What do you think?" " Well done, Eddy." "Did you check on her this morning?" "Yes, darling, she's alive, she's alive." "Is she staying here?" "Yes." "She's upstairs." "Who is, dear?" "Jeanne Durand." "I'm a huge fan." "Which one is here, dear?" "What?" "Well, is it Simon Le Bon?" "No." "Or is it the pretty one who still puts his face on?" "No, no." "Not Duran Duran, Jeanne Durand!" "Lots of... "Oui!" "La belle de nuit!"" "She was Julia's Knee." " She was Julia's Knee." " Jeanne Durand?" "Not her, Eddy!" "Can't we keep this just to ourselves?" "Yeah, darling, Jeanne Durand." "She's upstairs." "I represent her now, darling." "We're working up a little set for the Albert Hall." ""Durand Sings."" "That's shut you up, hasn't it?" "Shut you up, hasn't it?" "Bubble, have you called all the people?" "I want it in all the national papers, all the gay press." "We'll have a listening party... a private soiree for the critics round at my house." "Worldwide coverage, television interviews." "Stop press!" "Or shall I just Twitter?" "Yeah, that should do it." "Dear." "Darling, darling, darling." "She's here, she's here, she's here." "Jeanne Durand, Jeanne Durand." "Miss Durand." "Here, Miss Durand, Miss Durand, Miss Durand." "Miss Durand, Miss Durand." "Saffy, this is Jeanne Durand." "Saffy." "This is my daughter, Saffron." "Jeanne Durand." "Madame, vous etes magnifique et j'ai tous vos films sur une etagere speciale dans ma chambre." "Go away, go away." "This is... this is my mother who's just leaving." "Of course, it's Nick Rhodes!" "It's not Nick Rhodes." "He'll be wearing that eye shadow till the day he dies." "Stop it." "Go, go, go." "Patsy, get her something, get her something." "French breakfast." "Yes." "Nicotine macchiato." "There we go." "So, dites-moi..." "Yes, dites-moi." "When do we work?" "I like to work." "How long do we have?" "Just under a week." "Nearly a week." "Good, good, so we must work hard." "We must work hard." "Work, work, work." "Work, work, work." "I love to work." "I love to work." "Yes, we must work." "Who's that?" "Pianist's here." "Work, work." "Pianist is here!" "We could work now." "Let's work." "Later, later." "I'm not a machine." "OK." "She's not a machine." "She's not a machine." "Anyway, je suis tres, tres gras, tres gras." "No, Mum, don't speak French!" "She is French!" "That's why I'm speaking French." "Yes, but you're telling her you're a fatty." "Even in French, the truth will out." "Thank you very much" "One of my favourites." ""La Vie En Rose"" "No, no." "I will try again." "I think it was the wrong key for me." "Get out of here." "What are you doing?" "Jeanne is singing." "I can't hear anything." "Well, she's... she's warming up, darling." "Get out." "Get out, get out, get out." "Wonderful lyrics." "Pats, you said she could sing." "Stop, stop, stop, stop." "What now?" "Well, go on, tell her, tell her." "She'll take it from you." "Jeanne, this is Baby Bunton." "Emma." "This is Emma Bunton." "Jeanne..." "I can't hear you." "Can't hear you." "That's because I've stopped singing." "No..." "No, when you were singing, we couldn't hear." "Couldn't hear you." "Well, you know why." "You are young." "You spend your life like all the young people with the headphones." "Whaa, whaa, whaa, whaa, whaa!" "Loud music, everyone walking down the streets starring in their own movie." "God." "Nobody listens." "Are you a singer?" "Yes, she's a sort of singer, aren't you, sweetheart?" "I am a singer!" "She is a singer." "Well, sing her one of your songs." "Go on." "That... that is Girls Aloud." "Well, sing her one of your Spicies." "No, no." "You're shouting at me!" "That's not singing." "For God's sake." "Thank God, it's Lulu!" "Thank God for Lulu." "Thank God!" "God." "You said you had a job for me, right?" "Yeah, darling, this is the job." "We've got to get her to sing." "Yeah, but what do I make out of this?" "Darling, you get champagne." "Champagne for Lulu." "Get champagne." "Cupcakes for Lulu!" "Money for Lulu." "OK." "Come on, come on, let Lulu through." "She needs volume." "I can do that." "She can do volume." "Now, let me see." "You have to project." "You have to push your voice right into the mic." "I've tried that." "Will you let me take care of this?" "I am a little bit more experienced and just a little bit older." "A lot older!" "So, darling, darling, darling, darling," "Lulu, Lulu..." "I've just got to get her to hold the mic closer to her mouth, all right?" "Call yourself professionals, you two!" "Come on!" "Come on." "Can you not smoke?" "I don't want to die young." "Why not die young?" "Life is so overrated." "Do you see what I'm working with?" "Lulu, Lulu," "I've booked the Albert Hall for her!" "Yes!" "Jeanne, Lulu is a singer." "Yes." "Shall I sing?" "Yeah go on." "All right." "Listen." "Actually, no, no, no, don't, don't." "No, don't, no, don't." "I tried that as well." "Yeah, we tried that, we tried that." "OK." "Just..." "Go on." "Look, look, look, Jeanne, they want to hear you, you know?" "So you've got to give yourself to them." "No, no, no." "When I sing, they come to me." "God." "They'd have to be sitting on your dentures to hear you, that's for sure." "Look, you've got to sing up." "You just grab the mic, you sing right into the mic, make a noise." "A noise." "Sing, woman!" "Sing... voice." "Use your voice and sing!" "No, no, no, no, no, no." "You are killing my muse." "What do you think I am, an entertainer?" "For God's sake." "Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne..." "What?" "You know what." "She can't sing, can she?" "Darling, this is work in progress, all right?" "I think she's deaf." "Well, I think you're deaf!" "And I think she's an idiot." "Well, I think you're an idiot!" "Mum, what are you going to do?" "You can't let her do this." "Darling, I'm doing this for you, aren't I?" "After all you said." "I'm doing this to make Lola proud." "You love Jeanne Durand and if I've got Jeanne Durand, I can't be a failure, can I?" "Granny must be doing something right." "Mum, stop it now." "No." "Where did she go?" "She's in the cupboard." "God." "Jeanne, it's a cupboard!" "Dear." "Shut up!" "Anyway, darling, she'll be all right tomorrow." "I've put her to bed now." "No, she won't." "Well, then I'll change the name of the show." "To what?" "Jeanne Durand Talking Songs." "You'll be a laughing stock." "No, I've got till tomorrow evening, sweetheart." "Afternoon." "Evening." "Afternoon." "You've got the listening party with all the big critics tomorrow here in the afternoon." "Shit." "Eddy, darling..." "What?" "I'm your best friend and I've never let you down..." "No, never." "And I've never asked you to do this before." "But, no, Eddy, don't do it." "Cheers, cheers." "It's amazing that nobody has had this idea before." ""Durand Sings." Durand Sings, yes." "Because of course we all remember her as one of the Singing Brellas Of Cherbourg." "Cherbourg." "Yes, yes." "So, Mark, do you like Jeanne Durand?" "Yeah, I think I first fell in love with her bouche." "You've seen her bouche?" "Of course." "I thought you were a happily married man." "Ladies and gentlemen, Edina Monsoon presents..." "Miss Jeanne Durand." "Thank you." "Thank you." "Well, let me just say..." "I'm not an actor." "I am." "I'm not a singer." "I am song." "I don't smoke." "I am a cigarette." "Yeah, all right, all right." "Jeanne, Miss Jeanne Durand." "I'm not a photograph..." "For God's sake..." "I'm a painting by Matisse." "Just start, just start." "Encore!" "Fabulous, fabulous." "I know." "Next stop, Carnegie Hall." "I'm taking new management." "Just take it, just take it." "I don't care." "Don't worry." "It's all right, I'm not proud of myself, darling, it's all right." "It's OK." "What?" "I know what you're going to say, darling!" "Yeah." "Why would Lola ever want to know an idiot like this?" "But I tried, didn't I, sweetheart?" "I tried." "Mum, I'm..." "What, what?" "No, no, sweetheart." "La, la, la." "Darling." "I understand." "It's fine, it's fine." "No, Mum, I'm the one who's not good enough." "I'm the one." "What?" "I just made it your fault because I... couldn't cope with the guilt about Jane." "I'm a terrible mother." "I'm sorry I made it your fault." "Darling." "Come on, sweetheart." "This is all a bit psychological, isn't it, sweetheart?" "Come on, everything is my fault, darling." "Everything is my fault, isn't it?" "No damage done." "Well, there's a French woman about to give a mute concert at the Carnegie Hall." "That's all right." "New York gays are very forgiving." "They are, they are." "Darling." "Sweetheart." "Hugs, hugs, hugs." "Darling." "Come on, Eddy, we're going to Mahiki's." "Great." "Is it a club?" "Yes, it..." "Do you want to come?" "No." "No." "No."