"# I'm getting tired of the city All the noise and the mess" "# Want a new beginning and a new address" "# Why don't we run away To somewhere where the birds still sing?" "# I want the green green grass And a country house" "# In a place where my face ain't known" "#And in the green green grass It'll come to pass" "# We'll have somewhere to call our own" "# We'll have somewhere to call our home #" "This is the very latest in air-freshening devices." "I bet David Beckham got one of them." "He's got two." "Inside there is a timer device which you can place on any number of settings." "Every half hour, every hour or even every two hours." "This one's set for every ten minutes." "Then what happens, ma'am?" "It will squirt a teeny bit of air-freshener into the room." "I'm telling you two this 'cause the first time I used it, it frightened the dog." "Thank you, ma'am." "Morning, young Bethany." "Morning, Mrs Cakeworthy." "Oh, ain't that nice?" "Oh, young love and all the guffling." "Oh, those dreams of never-ending summers, gentle kisses and golden fields." "Promises made that can never be stolen." "Whispered secrets heard only by nightingales and the stars." "Course it all ends in vodka and tattoos." "Mysterious babies and embarrassing confessions to your GP." "Ooh, gypsy cream." "There!" "That is a scientific miracle." "If that got into the wrong hands..." "Don't!" "Now the room will stay fresh and sweet-smelling all day long." "'Cause let's be fair, this place smells like the High Chaparral in a heat wave." "Begging your pardon, ma'am, but them cattle out there are supposed to smell like that." "It's not the cattle out there that's bothering me." "Here, do I pong, then?" "No." "What about me?" "No." "Maybe just a little bit." "Did you do everything that you wanted to do?" "No, just the homework." "Oh, Mrs Cakeworthy, how about a coffee?" "Oh, thank you, sir, I couldn't drink another drop." "I've put a big pile of washing outside the bedroom door." "Oh, don't you worry, me dear, it shows the house is lived in." "Couple of letters arrived, sir." "Hmm." "Oh, this one's addressed to you." "Oh, that'll be for me, then." "Why don't you have your mail delivered to your own house?" "Well, my wife might see it." "You mean you're frightened she'll open it?" "No, ma'am, she'll realise I'm still living there." "Oh, Bryan, jed, you better sit down." "This concerns you as well." "What's going on?" "We have been discussing the future of Rocky the bull and something has got to be done." "Yeah, he's been a big letdown." "You know why." "The vet told you, the bull's gay." "Maybe not, Master Tyler." "You see, I've come up with a bit of a theory." "It's my idea." "You just said it first." "Yeah, but..." "Farm manager!" "You see, the way things are now, we go out every evening, we brings Rocky back to his barn and we leaves him there alone." "And in the future, we leave him out in the field with them cows all night." "Why?" "Because he might turn." "Yeah!" "That is ridiculous." "Yeah!" "I mean, look at David Bowie." "For years he played for Hampstead Heath Wanderers, next thing he's a happily married man." "If it was that simple, wouldn't the vet have suggested it months ago?" "She's got a good point, sir." "What do you mean, "she's got a good point"?" "It was your idea!" "Oh, no, no, Bryan suggested it." "But I didn't realise how stupid it was until it was pointed out to me." "All right, I've heard enough of this." "Rocky is going." "I am going to sell him." "Sell him?" "Who's going to be thick enough to buy him?" "Your father did." "And there's one thing you should remember, Tyler," "I was voted top London second-hand car salesman five years in succession." ""I sold a jeep to john Lennon."" "I sold a jeep to john Lennon." "I was a millionaire at 32." "You never told me!" "No?" "Oh, you must've been out." "Now, what I am saying is that I'm not just a successful farmer..." "Successful farmer?" "You've got one gay bull and 300 miserable cows." "301 ." "Be fair, Boycie!" "Even Trigger wouldn't be stupid enough to buy Rocky." "Nag's Head, Peckham." "You're right." "You could always try selling him at the Royal Agricultural Christmas Ball." "The what?" "Unless I'm very much mistaken, that's what this here envelope is." "It's an invitation." "I've seen them envelopes many times before." "Well, of course, with all the yin floppins and the dowdly yorlops over the years," "it's no surprise, is it?" "Only just, eh?" "She's right." "It's being held in some country hotel in Somerset." "It's £500 a ticket!" "A monkey for an agricultural ball?" "They're having a laugh, aren't they?" "What do they take me for?" "Here." "Wait a minute, how do they even know we lived here?" "No, it's just addressed to the owner." "The old squire used to go every year." "Swore by it." "Said he had more business opportunities from that than anything else." "Arr, they'll all be there, country's biggest farmers, top business people." "Nobility, even royalty on occasions." "Really?" "Well, maybe we ought to go, Marlene." "But it's £500 a ticket." "Oh." "Okay." "You all right, gaffer?" "Oh, no, not really." "It's this letter that arrived earlier." "I've got something to tell you, sir." "In a few weeks, I have to go into hospital to have surgery." "What's wrong, gaffer?" "I've got what they calls a grumbling appendix." "Having your appendix out is nothing, is it?" "That's what I used to say, as long as it was somebody else's appendix." "See, my father had his appendix out and they sent him home and... he died in bed." "But that was 30 years later, weren't it?" "Oh, yeah." "It were 30 years later, but my old mum always blamed that operation." "You see, I'm afraid it might be the curse of Winterdown Farm happening all over again." "No." "Don't be silly." "The curse of Winterdown Farm?" "Yeah, happened to the old squire, you see." "Had a run of bad luck like fate had it in for him." "And then in the end, like all the others before him, the nightmares from the curse drove him mad." "But I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you." "They say that when you face the end, your life flashes before you." "Well, my memories are flooding back." "I remember the night I met my wife." "Oh, God, we'll have to put him on suicide watch." "It was a warm spring evening, young people everywhere, that pop record blaring out..." "# Those were the days, my friend I thought they'd never end #" "My mate and me, we went into this pub." "Packed it was, and though you couldn't move for people, I saw her." "She was standing towards the back, sexily chalking her cue." "She saw me and immediately this look came across her face." "I'll bet." "She had a sort of... sort of glint in her eye and I said to my mate, "I think I'm in here."" "So I very coolly and calmly lit a roll-up." "Then I glanced back, she was still looking at me, still had that glint in her eye." "It was more of a twinkle, really." "It was ages before I realised it was glass." "She had a glass eye?" "Happened when she was young, ma'am." "Accident with a pigeon." "Ah, but as glass eyes go, it was a real stonker." "Oh, yeah, yeah." "You couldn't tell unless you really looked." "There's something I'd like you to do for me, sir, as far as my Christmas bonus, and farm manager's briefcase and all my other personal effects are concerned." "If the worst comes to the worst, would you give them to my wife?" "Elgin." "Elgin, this is silly talk." "Christmas bonus." "Elgin, it's none of my business, but why do you want to leave everything to your wife?" "She doesn't wanna know you, she doesn't even want you living in the same house." "Yeah, that's true." "But see, at the end of the day, she's all I've got." "What's up with him?" "Can't you tell?" "He's upset." "Boycie, it's been a long time." "Yeah." "We been looking for you everywhere." "You remember us, don't you?" "Of course he does." "We're the..." "Driscoll brothers!" "Who?" "Where?" "Why?" "What?" "You just shouted out "the Driscoll brothers"." "Oh, no, I was just having a dream, my little tadpole." "Go back to sleep." "Excuse me, where are we?" "MARLENE:" "This is the hotel where they're holding the Christmas Ball." "BOYCE:" "I asked you to hire us a nice car." "So, tell me again, Bryan, why, of all the cars in the world, you got this one?" "Well, this is a nice car, sir." "It's a Mercedes." "I know what it is." "I was a second-hand car dealer." "Don't start, Boycie." "This has been the sole topic of conversation all the way from Shropshire to Somerset." "Yes, I know, but I would have preferred a larger one." "Yeah, it's annoying, innit?" "Can you believe that?" "He didn't open my door." "Well, you open it." "But he's my driver." "He should open it." "(WHISPERING) Bryan." "Arr." "What is it, sir?" "Will you open the door, please?" "Which door, sir?" "This door." "This door?" "Yes, this door!" "What, this door that's already opened?" "Yes!" "But it's already open." "Yes, but as the driver, you should open it." "But I can't, sir." "Why?" "'Cause it's already open." "I mean, you can't open a door that's already open, can you?" "I mean, that's impossible, eh?" "I mean, not even Paul Daniels can do that." "Shut up!" "Keep the noise down." "You're making a spectacle of us." "You'll have to close the door first." "Which door?" "This door!" "MARLENE:" "A crowd is growing." "This is the door you wanted open." "But now I want it closed." "They'll be selling tickets soon." "Let me see if I got this straight, you want me to close the door so's I can open it." "Yes!" "Oh, well, this is really something, this is." "How's that?" "Thank you." "Actually, he should've opened my door before yours." "Why?" "Ladies first." "Oh, lighten up, Marlene." "He's wearing Wellingtons." "Oh, good." "All settled in, sir?" "Ma'am?" "Oh, yes, it's a lovely room." "Internet, trouser press, says it all." "Bidet, minibar, the dog's whatsits." "Oh, good." "Well, right, I'll be off, then." "I'll pick you up about 1 2:00." "Oh, and by the way, sir," "I got talking to a couple of fellows earlier." "Very interested in you, they were." "Asking all sorts of questions." "Really?" "I told them what a successful man you've been." "Whoa!" "They were impressed, sir." "Wait a minute." "Two men?" "We been looking for you everywhere." "Oh, my God!" "Was one of them very tall and the other one much shorter?" "No, ma'am." "No." "Did they have South London accents?" "No, sir." "No." "So they didn't strike you as the type who might walk up and blow his head off?" "Blow Farmer Boyce's head off?" "Shh!" "Oh, sorry, sir." "No, no, no." "It was nothing like that." "In fact, it was the complete opposite." "They were both titled gentlemen." "So you both have a lovely time." "I'll see you tomorrow, hmm?" "Yes, yes, see you tomorrow." "Titled gentlemen, Marlene." "Yeah, I heard." "So?" "So?" "What do you mean, "so"?" "This could be another great opportunity for us." "I mean, we're already climbing up the social ladder faster than a fireman on a promise." "Now we're mixing with the nobility." "Wait a minute." "What name shall I call you?" "My real name." "What, Aubrey?" "Shh!" "Yes, that name is acceptable in these circles." "We're in Tarquin and Giles country now." "Shall we?" "Thank you." "Well, I'm feeling rather peckish." "How about you, my dear?" "Yes, I could just go a nice vol-au-vent." "Oh, hello there, Mr and Mrs Boyce." "Pleasure to meet you, jonathan Cavendish." "Rupert Telford Scott." "Delighted to make your acquaintance." "Yeah, nice to meet you." "Your Grace." "Oh, thank you so much." "My Lord." "Thank you, my dear." "Your Grace?" "I'm so sorry." "I haven't introduced us properly." "I'm actually the Duke of Longstanton and Rupert here..." "I'm the Earl of Rhythorpe." "But we rarely use our titles these days." "No, no. just Rupert and jonathan." "Well, jonty to friends." "Well, lovely to meet you, Rupert." "jonty." "Allow me to introduce my wife, Tamara." "Lovely to meet you both." "And this is my better half, Lucinda." "It's a great pleasure." "Oh, thank you." "This is Marlene." "How do you do?" "Hello." "Marlene." "How do you do?" "Delighted." "And, uh..." "Me?" "(CLEARING THROAT) I'm..." "I'm..." "Au..." "Au..." "Au..." "Almost there." "(STUTTERING) Aubrey." "Attaboy." "Lovely to meet you, Aubrey." "We've booked a little table out back for this evening." "Couple of slurps before the ball." "Now, you will join us, wont you?" "Marvellous." "Wonderful." "Fantastic." "Terrific." "I'll see you later." "See you later." "There, you see, Marlene?" "I said my name was Aubrey, and they didn't even flinch." "Well, in their world, they're used to stupid names, aren't they?" "Yes." "Shall we mingle, Marlene?" "Yes, let's." "Aubrey." "Shh." "He checked into hospital this morning." "What do you think they're doing to him?" "I suppose they're running tests." "You all right, jed?" "Arr." "You can't help but worry about him, though, can you?" "You can't help thinking of all the things that could go wrong." "Yeah, it plays on your mind, don't it?" "Ah, yeah, well, that's only natural." "But honestly, there's nothing to worry about." "It's a lovely hotel." "And the people there were really friendly." "I was talking about Elgin!" "Oh, Elgin, he'll be all right." "I mean, he's only got appendicitis, ain't he?" "Did you know that if you're an astronaut you have to have your appendix out?" "Really?" "How do they manage that in that little spaceship?" "They have to have it out before the launch." "Can't be a million miles up in space and your astronaut gets appendicitis, can you?" "I never thought of that." "Yeah, but how do you stop an astronaut from having a heart attack?" "Well, they have to have their hearts removed as well." "Really?" "Yeah." "Night, everyone." "Night." "Mrs C, can we talk to you?" "MRS CAKEWORTHY:" "Yes, my dear." "You're an experienced woman, aren't you?" "When you say "experienced", I'm not quite sure what you mean." "I've never climbed a mountain, or travelled widely, or done white-water rafting or indulged in exotic religions with litherings and bonters." "Nothing like that, thank you very much." "But as a teenager, I was very promiscuous." "Well, we just wanted to be certain." "Because love is a very private and precious thing between two people, isn't it?" "It can be." "Your Grace, if you wouldn't mind, I'll pick up some details for the editor." "I wouldn't leave it too late, though." "This stuff is disappearing faster than politicians' promises." "Could we possibly return to our duties?" "This bottle is crying out for our help." "Well, I feel a bit underdressed, what with you two in your Sergeant Pepper's clobber." "I wish I'd worn my regalia now." "You look lovely as you are, Aubrey." "Oh, thank you, Tamara." "Yes, and you'd look silly in your Boys' Brigade uniform." "No, no, my little earwig." "I wasn't talking about the Boys' Brigade" "I was just a kid." "I was thinking more of my Masonic regalia." "Wonderful dinner, didn't you think?" "Yes, lovely." "Have I got food between me teeth?" "I don't know, take them out and have a look." "To success." "Success." "Success." "Talking of success, we were chatting with your man earlier, him of the Armani Wellingtons?" "Oh, he's quite a character." "Yes, and he was telling us of your wonderful success story." "Used car trade, wasn't it?" "Yes, I was the owner of the largest second-hand car conglomerate in South London." "I sold it a while back to an Arab consortium." "Sad to see it go, really." "After all, it took me 30 odd years to build it up." "You must have had quite a reputation." "Yes, but they were from Kuwait, so they hadn't heard." "But I also owned the land that the showrooms were built upon." "And if you've got any idea of how much land is going for in London these days, you'll get some idea of how much I sold for." "Must've been a fortune!" "Roman Abramovich phoned up last week and asked for a loan." "I wonder if you'd mind if I gave you my business card?" "No, delighted." "RUPERT:" "Love to have one." "Thank you so much." "Thank you." "Would you like to give me one, Aubrey?" "Yes." "Of course, Tamara." "Thank you." "So, what game are you two in?" "Well, for quite a few years, Rupert and I were in stud." "Mmm." "Racehorses." "Bloodstock." "Oh, right." "But about 1 0 years ago, we founded a little polo club down in Surrey." "Done rather well, actually." "The Prince of Wales has played there." "We've invited Charles to be our president and he's happy to take the position, but sometime in the future." "Yes, we're not quite a big enough club just yet." "But we do have plans to extend the spectators' seating." "Build a new clubhouse, a state-of-the-art equine fitness centre." "We were hoping to bring it up to Olympic standard for 201 2." "So, what's the problem?" "It's the age-old one, Aubrey." "Money." "But I thought you two, you know, a duke and an earl." "Oh, no, no, my dear." "The Inland Revenue took the family money back in Harold Wilson's time." "Been the banks, spoken to the city..." "Interest rates are crippling." "jonty even promised them a knighthood." "Hmm." "Well, he has the ear of a certain female cousin." "She's rather high up." "Likes corgis." "Oh, shh, shh!" "Darling, I don't mean to be a bore." "Well, then, don't be, darling." "You and Rupert are not businessmen." "She's right." "You're hunters." "You're sportsmen." "But you're certainly not businessmen." "You should ask Aubrey to look at your books." "He's a born entrepreneur." "He'll give you better advice than some City whiz kid." "Yes, well, perhaps we should do that." "Well, some other time, this isn't the place to talk business." "Now, I don't know about you two, but my old bones can't cope with any more dancing." "How about a game of snooker?" "Count me in." "Aubrey?" "Yes." "Ladies." "So, are you enjoying life in the country, Marlene?" "Oh, yes, my husband and I have always loved nature." "A short while ago Boyce..." "Aubrey and I applied to join the National Front." "Trust, the National Trust." "The Trust." "And are you enjoying it?" "No, they turned us down." "Oh, unlucky." "You know, I'm sure this table's sloping to the right." "I was thinking about what you were saying earlier about your polo club." "Oh, what about it?" "Well, maybe you don't have to go begging to the City and the bank." "Maybe you could raise the capital by another source." "Such as?" "Such as me." "Are you serious, old boy?" "Oh, yes, I am serious." "I mean, I'm not doing it for the knighthood." "Although I wouldn't turn it down." "I mean, that'd be rude, wouldn't it?" "Oh, yes, rather." "Now, you see, if your club was to build the extension and the fitness centre and then be chosen as a venue for the Olympics, it would double in value overnight." "Well, yes, I suppose it would." "And that to me is good business." "Oh." "How much do you think it'd cost?" "Difficult to say." "Last quote was...one and a half million?" "Oh, bad luck." "That's a shame." "Sorry." "Bit rusty." "But they must be insured for this sort of thing, don't you think?" "Oh, oh, I'm certain of it." "Listen, old chap, if you're serious about becoming a partner in our polo club, let's meet privately and do the business in a civilised manner." "Couldn't agree more." "Once lawyers become involved everything gets so terribly fraught." "Have you any plans for Christmas?" "No, nothing special." "Well, how about this?" "I have a chalet over in Switzerland, St Moritz." "Now, Rupert and Lucinda are flying over for Christmas, why don't you and Marlene join us?" "We can sing a few carols, bit of a snowball fight." "Some après ski and, well, then discuss contracts." "Well, it is a bit sudden." "But, no, that'd be wonderful." "Thank you very much, jonty." "I better go and tell Marlene." "Give her a chance to get a new set of skis." "You won't be long, will you, Aubrey?" "No, back in a couple of shakes, Tamara." "So, has he taken the bait?" "Taken it?" "You having a laugh?" "He threw himself on the hook like a kamikaze trout." "He's perfect!" "Social ambitions and a few million quid." "And he's called Aubrey." "It's a good job we hired that chalet in St Moritz." "Oh, we're not skiing again?" "Oh, I can't stand skiing." "It's only until Aubrey comes across..." "Ah, ah, ah, Sir Aubrey." "Till Sir Aubrey comes across with the dosh and then we're away, leaving them with a cuckoo clock and a fondue set for Christmas." "And once Aubrey and Marlene are getting themselves chucked out of Buckingham Palace, we will be sipping Krug in Caesar's Palace." "(FAKE POSH ACCENT) Don't you'll just love this time of year?" "LLEWELLYN:" "So, you've got the majority of them safely in the barns, yeah?" "Yeah." "Have you seen my passport?" "No, but I'd like to." "I enjoy a good laugh." "I thought it was here." "They've all been provided with hay, so they're fed and watered." "Ah, Farmer Boyce, you seen the magazine?" "You and your good lady are in this month's issue." "Oh, really?" "Yeah, look at that." "The Duke of Longstanton, the Earl of Rhythorpe and Aubrey and Marlene Boyce." "It says you'll all be spending Christmas together in a chalet in Street Moritz, Switzerland." "Yes." "Aubrey?" "What?" "Is that your name?" "Aubrey?" "Oh, no, no, that's a typing error." "It should read, um..." "Ashley." "Yes, Ashley, Ashley Boyce." "Wait a minute." "What in God's name are you doing in my house?" "I'm your new farm manager." "Temporary, of course, till Elgin gets back from sick leave." "Didn't Mrs Boyce tell you?" "No, she didn't!" "And who employed you?" "Elgin did, sir." "It's in both our interests, Farmer Boyce." "You need someone with experience to keep this place going, and I have to make sure this farm doesn't go under, otherwise you might be forced to sell, and what will the new owners do with it, hmm?" "I could wake up one morning next to a theme park." "And with Goofy and Donald running things here, it's a bit of a Mickey Mouse outfit as it is." "Well, I suppose it makes sense." "It's for the best, sir." "But let's understand one thing." "I'm working here for the reasons I've just given, plus wages, of course, but it doesn't mean I like you." "No." "And I'm letting you work here for the reasons you've just given..." "Plus wages, of course." "Plus wages." "But it doesn't mean I like you, either." "Good!" "You're English, I'm Welsh, we can't like each other." "It's the law." "It's nice to detest you." "Same here." "Shake on it." "Aw!" "It's nice to see you two getting along with each other at last." "Hmm!" "You see?" "You look hard enough, you'll find good in everyone." "Except the Nazi party." "joseph Stalin, Pol Pot and Gordon Ramsay." "Find good in him?" "I think he's the most smug and stupid man I've ever met." "Don't you dare say things like that about my husband!" "At least not until you get to know him better." "Ooh, look, we're in the magazine!" "Lovely!" "Earl, come on." "Oh, give that to me!" "Give it back to me, you stupid animal!" "Look what that stupid dog has done to this ski stick!" "Oh, love him." "I'm never going to get the hang of this skiing lark." "Look at these boot holes." "I could get my feet and a three-piece suite in each of them." "They're my skis." "Yours are in the bedroom." "Oh." "It was a good picture in the magazine, weren't it?" "Well, it's a good shot of me." "You spoilt yours by smiling." "Where is my passport?" "The minicab's going to be here in an hour." "In the bedroom." "It's in the envelope your solicitor sent it back in." "Boycie, I'm worried." "What about?" "This polo club, how much money they want you to put in?" "Oh, hardly anything." "It's my experience they're interested in." "What experience have you had with horses?" "I mean, in Peckham the only time we ever saw horses was during a riot." "Now we got to go and watch a load of fat blokes riding around whacking little balls with hammers." "They are not horses, they are ponies." "And they are not whacking little balls with hammers, they are striking them with mallets." "Yeah, well, when we get to Switzerland, you get too close to that Tamara tart and you'll find out what striking little balls with a ski sticks is all about." "For God's sake, Marlene, Tamara was only being friendly." "Yeah, you see that sort of friendliness every Sunday in the News of the World." "Hello, darling." "The dog chewed your gloves up." "Aw." "Love him." "Oh, my poor boy." "There's lots of food in the freezer and there's loads of presents under the tree." "We'll open some of them before the minicab arrives, shall we?" "Yeah, whatever." "Now, you're not going to be alone over Christmas." "No, I suppose the dog'll be here." "It's better than that." "I've spoken with Bethany's parents, and they don't mind you and her spending Christmas together." "Really?" "Oh, thank God for liberals." "Yeah, Llewellyn said he'll drive you over to Beth's mum and dad's house on Christmas Eve." "I've got to stay with her parents?" "Oh, great!" "And this is the season to be jolly." "Winterdown Farm." "Llewellyn ap Cradog, acting farm manager speaking." "Oh, hello, Hughie." "Yes, I'm helping Farmer Boyce out while Elgin's in dry dock." "What?" "Yes, I suppose he does a bit, eh?" "Only Eva Braun could tell them apart." "Yes, right." "Right, I'll tell him." "That was your minicab driver." "He says he's going to be a bit late." "But how late?" "A couple of days." "A couple of days?" "Well, the roads are blocked with snow." "What snow?" "It's only a few flakes." "Try the other door!" "How long's it been snowing?" "All morning." "Why didn't you tell me it was snowing this heavy?" "Oh, I didn't know it was snowing." "Honest." "You didn't know?" "You built a snowman out there." "What makes you think I built the snowman?" "Because look where the carrot is." "It's good, innit?" "Wait a moment." "That means if people can't get into this farm, me and the others can't get out." "We're marooned here." "For Christmas." "Thank you, Santa." "How long do you think we'll be trapped here?" "I phoned my wife earlier, and she said the weather forecasters reckon it could be a month." "A month?" "No, that was when my sister's baby's due." "You phone Switzerland?" "Yeah, yeah, I keep ringing, but there's no reply." "Oh, don't worry about it." "They'll ring you." "You gave them your business card." "No, no, I've just checked." "But the cards I gave them are my old business cards with my addresses and phone numbers in Peckham." "I'll just go and try them again." "They're most probably on the piste." "Not the worst idea I've ever heard." "Let's have another drink." "Have you always been a woman?" "Well, of course she's always been a woman." "You have, haven't you?" "Of course I have." "Well, of course she has." "Have you been helping yourself to that drink?" "No." "When I was younger, I did a bit of modelling." "What, clay?" "No, glamour." "It was for Poultry Breeders Monthly." "It was nothing too strong, you understand." "None of that gocklin and belicky burrs in the dullerms." "Oh, no, not for me." "Nothing like that, thank you very much." "No, it was what the photographer called egg erotica." "And I was a beauty queen." "Really?" "I mean, really?" "Yes, it was when I worked for the local council." "I was Miss Parks, Cemeteries and Allotments." "And do you know what the runner-up said?" "Baaa." "That's it." "Get out of this room!" "Go on, get out!" "Baaa." "Your friends still not answering, sir?" "I can't understand it." "I mean, maybe they've gone out to dinner." "Hey, talking of dinner, I hope Mrs Boyce has got enough food in, 'cause we could be here quite a while." "And I don't want to go catching that there anorexia." "Men don't get anorexia, jed." "It's a woman's thing, like bingo." "My Myrtle suffered from it." "Yeah, nobody could do nothing about it." "Oh, yeah, she loved her bingo, did my Myrtle." "That's where she met him!" "Who's Myrtle?" "Bryan's ex-fiancé." "They broke up some while back." "They were engaged for 1 0 years." "Sadly, she never even gave it a chance." "You and young Bethany should take notice of this." "There's a moral in this tale of human tragedy, heartbreak and deceit." "Mind you, you can't help but have a chuckle." "Oh, God help us all!" "Is everything all right, Farmer Boyce?" "Nothing that a snow plough and a private jet wouldn't cure." "Since then, I've been very wary and very cautious about which women I let get close to me." "And how many have there been?" "None." "None!" "And her, of all people!" "Her, with her face like a bean bag." "And them garpin werry tittlies hanging around like bloodhound's ears." "I bet she blacked a few eyes in a Mexican wave." "Boycie, Mrs Cakeworthy's a glamour model." "Yeah, and Michael jackson's covered in freckles." "Well, if that's how you're going to be, we'll go to another room until your mood has changed." "It's none of my business, Farmer Boyce, and I won't pretend I care, but you seem somewhat stressed." "Stressed?" "I'm suffering from more tension then the hinges on Pavarotti's fridge door!" "I've just lost the best business opportunity of my entire life!" "By now, I should be sitting in a toboggan on the top of Matterhorn one cheque away from a knighthood." "Oh, dear, I can see how galling that must be." "Do you think it has anything to do with your curse?" "Now, look here." "Marlene may be many things, but don't you ever accuse her of being..." "I am talking about the curse of Winterdown Farm." "That malevolent spell whereby all the owners have been struck down by insanity, always preceded by a plague of diabolical misfortune." "Those the gods wish to destroy, first they make mad." "Why are you talking like this?" "I'm Welsh." "Oh, yeah." "Look at the facts and the pernicious irony of your situation." "Your skiing trip being cancelled due to snow." "Then, your newfound friendships, which have by now been shattered." "Then your farm manager, who you rely on for the safe running of this farm and this house, suddenly snatched from you, leaving you vulnerable and unguarded." "And now, your telly's broken down." "(GASPS) Well, that's just snow on the aerial." "That's perfectly natural." "Is it natural?" "Or supernatural?" "Wait a minute." "I get it now." "It's you." "What?" "Everything bad has happened since you arrived." "No." "Now, don't talk rot, boyo." "You came into this house and the snow followed." "You walked in and opportunity did a runner." "That telly was all right until you got here." "Now, you calm down!" "It might be Channel 5." "This is like that james Stewart film, innit?" "It's a Wonderful Life, only in reverse." "Instead of Clarence the angel, I've got Llewellyn the hobgoblin!" "Now I know what I've got to do." "You take it easy now, boy." "Yes, it's hard to find a silver bullet on Christmas night, but I've got a wooden stake." "You're a lunatic, you are!" "You're a lunatic!" "Leave me alone!" "Leave me alone!" "Now, that's made me feel better already." "Is there a key to this door?" "No, there isn't." "What's wrong?" "Your husband, he's gone mad." "No, that's just his face." "No, there's something in his eyes." "Look, he's had a lot of disappointment and a lot of drink." "He's just not himself." "No!" "If Farmer Boycie was simply not himself, I wouldn't be complaining." "It would be a blessing." "But believe me, he is possessed." "The next stage is the incoherent rumblings of the darkened mind." "Oh, this is a gawklin with sparsles, this is." "Oh, thank God for ginger nuts." "At this moment, he is roaming about with a sharpened end of a ski stick in one hand and a Yuletide log in the other." "Maybe he's just playing Give Us A Clue." "No, 'cause it's like that film, innit?" "Ain't it?" "What film?" "Well, you know, the one where it starts off all nice and sunny, then things all go wrong." "I know the one." "Where they're all trapped in that big old house." "And it's night." "And in the snow." "Herbie Goes To Monte Carlo." "No." "It's jack Nicholson, The Shining." "Yeah, that's it." "Yes!" "On the door!" "just over here." "There, put it there." "Here's Aubrey." "jed, I think my dad was having a laugh." "Yeah, so was I." "I've got a son of my own, Your Majesty." "Oh." "Hello, Tamara, I didn't expect to see you here at the palace." "Behave yourself, Tamara." "Oh, all right, then." "What's all the noise?" "Oh, it's you, sir." "For one terrible moment, I mistook you for my wife." "Your wife?" "Yes, sir." "It was the eye patch." "But he's got a moustache." "I know." "It's uncanny." "I thought you were supposed to be in Switzerland." "Mr Boyce had a bit of an accident." "Oh." "Is that why you've got a plaster on your nose and your arm's in a sling?" "No, we're just on our way to a fancy dress party, and I'm going as an idiot." "Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear about your misfortune, but it's not all bad news." "No?" "No." "My operation was a success." "It just gets better and better, doesn't it?" "What's that?" "Bryan and jed are on the roof fixing your aerial." "The doctor said an occasional glass of brandy would help speed my recovery." "There's a bottle in the garage." "There's a bottle in the garage." "I'll go." "Me stitches are nearly healed." "Oh, my eye's still hurting." "Hmm." "Still, I should count meself lucky." "I could put up Optrex in." "Elgin's wife would have to use Windowlene." "Well, at least my sense of humour's coming back." "Is it?" "Good." "Oh, telly's back on." "Thank God for that, I thought we were going to have to sit here and talk." "FIONA BRUCE: ...dangerous." "If you know anything about them at all, call us here." "And finally here on Crimewatch." "Well, we often come across cases that seem convoluted, but the one we're about to show you now has more twists and turns than a plate of spaghetti." "The people involved in these events are British, but it happened abroad in the fashionable skiing resort of St Moritz." "On the 23rd of December, four British tourists arrived at this beautiful chalet, hoping to spend an idyllic white Christmas in the bracing alpine air." "It's Tamara and Lucinda." "And Rupert and jonty." "NICK ROSS:" "In fact, they were no ordinary tourists." "They are four international confidence tricksters." "They're well known to the police and they're on wanted lists in four different countries." "They'd only been in the chalet a few hours, when it seems there was a knock on the door and two men joined the party." "Now, we're not sure what happened after that." "According to neighbours, nobody left the chalet for the next two days." "FIONA BRUCE:" "Swiss police are questioning two British brothers, who are known underworld gang bosses Daniel and Antony Driscoll, from Peckham in South London." "NICK ROSS:" "The Driscoll brothers are maintaining they're under silence." "The problem is that the other four are still too traumatised to speak." "There are rumours that one important person was missing from this gathering." "If you know who the missing guest might have been, please call us in the studio, or the incident room on 0808 1 570 000." "We'll be back with Crimewatch Update later." "Meantime, as we always say, don't have nightmares, do sleep well." "Good night." "I was the missing guest." "Yeah." "They didn't mention me, did they?" "The Driscoll brothers flew all the way to Switzerland to..." "But how did they know I'd be there?" "That picture in the magazine." "It said we were flying to St Moritz for Christmas." "Somebody must've seen it." "And read it to them." "So, it's not the curse of Winterdown Farm after all." "The snow and all this saved me." "Yeah." "You know what this means, don't you, Marlene?" "Somebody up there likes me." "Yeah." "Makes a change, don't it?" "Right, all fixed, sir." "Yeah, we'll be on our way now." "No, stay, have a drink." "I'm celebrating." "Elgin, see if there's a bottle of Asti Spumante in the fridge." "What we celebrating, sir?" "A little thing called life, jed." "A little thing called life." "Well, I'm glad." "They've just spent the whole of Christmas snowed in with the Driscoll brothers." "And we've just spent the whole of Christmas snowed in with the Chuckle Brothers." "# I'm getting tired of the city All the noise and the mess" "# Why don't we run away To somewhere where the birds still sing?" "# I want the green green grass And a country house" "# In a place where my face ain't known" "#And in the green green grass It'll come to pass" "# We'll have somewhere to call our own" "# We'll have somewhere to call our home #"