The Complete Fawlty Towers
Page 2
Basil: Right! Never mind! Never mind! Manuel—another grapefruit for table twelve please . . . Manuel! (pointing at the grapefruit on the floor—to other guests) I do beg your pardon . . . I’m so sorry . . .
Manuel picks up the grapefruit and cleans it. He is about to replace it on the table.
Basil: . . . No! . . . Throw it away.
Manuel: Qué?
Basil: Throw . . . it . . . away!
Manuel: Throw . . . it . . . away?
Basil (miming a throw): Throw it away!! Now!!!
Manuel throws it away; it lands on another table. Basil retrieves it, grabs Manuel, and runs with him out of the room.
Basil (to the other tables as he passes): Sorry! . . . Sorry! . . . Sorry!
They disappear into the kitchen. There is the sound of a slap and a yelp from Manuel. Polly appears bearing Danny’s new grapefruit.
Polly: Sorry about that.
Danny: No, I like a bit of cabaret. (picks up Polly’s sketch pad from the table) You left your sketch.
Polly: Oh! Sorry.
Danny: It’s very good. Do you sell any?
Polly: Enough to keep me in waitressing. (she leaves as Basil reappears with the Beaujolais)
Basil: One half bottle of Beaujolais. (he is about to open the bottle when the reception bell rings) . . . Sybil!
Sybil (popping her head round the door): Someone at reception, dear. (she vanishes)
Basil hurries bad-temperedly into the lobby. Melbury is standing there.
Basil: Yes, yes, well, yes?
Melbury: . . . Er, well, I was wondering if you could offer me accommodation for a few nights?
Basil (very cross): Well, have you booked?
Melbury: . . . I’m sorry?
Basil: Have you booked, have you booked?
Melbury: No.
Basil (to himself): Oh dear!
Melbury: Why, are you full?
Basil: Oh, we’re not full . . . we’re not full . . . of course we’re not full!!
Melbury: I’d like, er . . .
Basil: One moment, one moment, please . . . yes?
Melbury: A single room with a . . .
Basil: Your name, please, could I have your name?
Melbury: Melbury.
The phone rings; Basil picks it up.
Basil (to Melbury): One second please. (to phone) Hello? . . . Ah, yes, Mr. O’Reilly, well it’s perfectly simple. When I asked you to build me a wall I was rather hoping that instead of just dumping the bricks in a pile you might have found time to cement them together . . . you know, one on top of another, in the traditional fashion. (to Melbury, testily) Could you fill it in, please? (to phone) Oh, splendid! Ah, yes, but when, Mr. O’Reilly? (to Melbury, who is having difficulty with the register) there—there!! (to phone) Yes, but when? Yes, yes . . . ah! . . . the flu! (to Melbury) Both names, please. (to phone) Yes, I should have guessed, Mr. O’Reilly, that and the potato famine I suppose . . .
Melbury: I beg your pardon?
Basil: Would you put both your names, please? . . . (to phone) Well, will you give me a date?
Melbury: Er . . . I only use one.
Basil (with a withering look): You don’t have a first name?
Melbury: No, I am Lord Melbury, so I simply sign myself ‘Melbury’.
There is a long, long pause.
Basil (to phone): Go away. (puts phone down) . . . I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, your lordship . . . I do apologize, please forgive me. Now, was there something, is there something, anything, I can do for you? Anything at all?
Melbury: Well, I have filled this in . . .
Basil: Oh, please don’t bother with that. (he takes the form and throws it away) Now, a special room? . . . a single? A double? A suite? . . . Well, we don’t have any suites, but we do have some beautiful doubles with a view . . .
Melbury: No, no, just a single.
Basil: Just a single! Absolutely! How very wise if I may say so, your honour.
Melbury: With a bath.
Basil: Naturally, naturally! Naturellement! (he roars with laughter)
Melbury: I shall be staying for one or two nights . . .
Basil: Oh please! Please! . . . Manuel!! (he bangs the bell; nothing happens) . . . Well, it’s . . . it’s rather grey today, isn’t it?
Melbury: Oh, yes, it is, rather.
Basil: Of course usually down here it’s quite beautiful, but today is a real old . . . er . . . rotter. (another bang on tin bell) Manuel!!! . . . Still . . . it’s good for the wheat.
Melbury: Yes, er, I suppose so.
Basil: Oh yes! I hear it’s coming along wonderfully at the moment! Thank God! I love the wheat . . . there’s no sight like a field of wheat waving in the . . . waving in . . . Manuel!!!! (he bangs the bell as hard as he can, no result) . . . Well, how are you? I mean, if it’s not a personal question. Well, it is a personal . . . (he dashes from behind the desk) Let me get your cases for you, please allow me . . .
Melbury: . . . Oh, thank you very much, they’re just outside.
Basil: Splendid. Thank you so much. I won’t be one moment . . .
He sprints off, collects the cases, and returns to find Sybil talking to Lord Melbury at the counter.
Basil: . . . Ah, Lord Melbury. May I introduce my wife?
Melbury: Yes, we have met.
Basil: My wife, may I introduce your lordship.
Sybil: Thank you, Basil, we’ve sorted it out.
Basil: Splendid, splendid.
Melbury: I wonder, could I deposit this case with you . . . it’s just a few valuables?
Basil: Valuable, of course. Please let me take it now. I’ll put it in the safe straight away. Sybil, would you put this in the safe, please?
Sybil: I’m just off to the kitchen, Basil.
Basil (muttering angrily): Yes, well, if you’re too busy . . .
Sybil: Nice to have met you, Lord Melbury. I hope you enjoy your stay. (she leaves)
Melbury: Thank you so much.
Basil: Yes, well I’ll do it then, then I’ll do the picture . . . (suddenly polite again) I’ll put this away in one moment, your lord. (to Manuel, who has appeared at last) Manuel, will you take these cases to room twenty-one.
Manuel: . . . Qué?
Basil: Take . . . to room . . . twenty-one. (he surreptitiously signals the number with his fingers)
Manuel: . . . No entender.
Basil: Prenda las casos en . . . oh, doesn’t matter. Right! I’ll do it, I’ll do it. Thank you, Manuel. (picks up the cases)
Manuel: I take them. (grabs cases)
Basil (not letting go): No, no, go away!
Manuel: Qué? (they struggle)
Basil: Go and wait!
Manuel: Wait?
Basil (indicating the dining room): In there! Go and wait in there! Go and be a waiter in there! (Manuel runs off; to Melbury) I do apologize, your lordship. I’m afraid he’s only just joined us. We’re training him. It’d be quicker to train a monkey, ha ha ha!
Basil’s laugh freezes as Melbury does not react. Then he goes upstairs with the cases, reappearing a moment later.
Basil: Do please follow me . . . I mean, if you’re ready. There’s no hurry . . .
Melbury: Oh yes, yes, fine. (follows Basil upstairs)
The dining room. Guests are eating peacefully until Basil rushes in and goes to the window table where Mr. and Mrs. Wareing and their son are eating.
Basil: Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you. Would you mind moving to that table?
Mr. Wareing: . . . What?
Basil: Could I ask you please to move to that table over there?
Mr. Wareing: But . . .
Basil: I’m so sorry to trouble you.
Mr. Wareing (getting up, protesting): We’re halfway through . . .
Basil: Thank you so much.
Mr. Wareing: Yes, but . . .
Basil: This is Lord Melbury’s table, you see.
Mr. Wareing: What?
Basil: Lord
Melbury. When he stays with us he always sits at this table.
Mr. Wareing: Well, why did they put us here?
Basil: Ah, an oversight . . . on my wife’s part. I’m so sorry. He’s just arrived, you see. Would you mind?—Polly!—Would you help these people to that table? Thank you, thank you so much.
The family get up very unwillingly. Polly, slightly puzzled, starts moving the dishes. Mrs. Wareing is particularly slow . . .
Basil: Come on! Come on!! . . . Thank you. (they move; Basil grabs a vase of flowers from another table and puts it on Melbury’s; Melbury enters) Ah, Lord Melbury! Do please come this way . . . your lordship . . . I have your table over here by the window . . . as usual . . . (gives Melbury a slight wink, but gets no reaction) Just here . . . thank you so much.
Melbury: Thank you, thank you very much . . .
Basil holds Melbury’s chair, but moves it back just as Melbury sits down. Melbury falls, knocking the table over. Basil clouts Manuel, who happens to be passing.
Basil: I’m so sorry! Oh my Lord! Oh my God!!
Mr. Wareing (to his wife): I think he’s killed him!
Basil: Get on with your meals!!! Thank you so much. (he starts trying to make amends)
In reception: Basil is at the desk doing the pools. Melbury comes out of the dining room wiping himself down with a handkerchief.
Basil: Lord Melbury, I really must apologize again for . . .
Melbury: Please, please, think nothing of it.
Basil: But it was so . . .
Melbury: Please! It was the smallest of accidents. It could have occurred anywhere.
Basil: Yes, but . . .
Melbury: No, no, no, I’ve forgotten all about it.
Basil: That’s most . . . you’re really . . . er, your lordship, would you allow me to offer you dinner here tonight . . . as our guest?
Melbury: That’s extremely kind of you. Unfortunately I have an engagement tonight . . .
Basil (mortified): Oh!
Melbury: Oh actually . . .
Basil: Yes?
Melbury: There is one thing.
Basil: Good! Good!
Melbury: I was wondering . . . can you cash me a small cheque? I’m playing golf this afternoon.
Basil: Oh, delighted!
Melbury: And I’d rather not go into the town . . .
Basil: Absolutely . . . I mean, er, how much? . . . er, if it’s not a rude question.
Melbury: Er well . . . er . . . could you manage . . . fif . . . (looks in his wallet) Oh! . . . a hundred?
Basil (stunned): A . . . h . . . hundred? (recovering) Oh absolutely . . . Oh yes, I mean, will a hundred be enough? . . . I mean a hundred and fifty . . . two . . . two . . . er, a hundred and sixty?
Melbury: . . . Let’s see, that’s, er, dinner tonight . . . few tips . . . oh, and it’s the weekend, isn’t it . . . is two hundred all right?
Basil (momentarily shattered): Oh! (extravagantly) Oh! Please! Yes! Oh, ha, ha!—oh, tremendous! Oh . . . I’m so happy! I’ll send someone to the town straightaway and have it for you here when you get back.
Melbury: Yes, well, that would be splendid.
Basil: Thank you, thank you, your lordship.
Melbury: Thank you so much.
Basil: Oh, not at all, my privilege . . . (Melbury exits) . . . What breeding . . . sheer . . . ooh! (he starts to write the cheque, but Sybil walks in; he hides the book hurriedly and gives her a peck on the cheek) Hallo, dear.
Sybil: What are you doing?
Basil: I’m kissing you, dear.
Sybil: Well, don’t.
Basil: Just thought it might be nice to . . .
Sybil: I heard about lunch.
Basil: What? . . . Oh, that! Oh, think nothing of it.
Sybil: What?
Basil: It was the smallest of accidents. Could have occurred anywhere.
Sybil: Anywhere? First you move that nice family in the middle of their meal, and then you attack Lord Melbury with a chair!
Basil: Look, Sybil, I’ve had a word with Lord Melbury about it. He was quite charming . . . Oh, it’s delightful to have people like that staying here . . . sheer class, golf, baths, engagements, a couple of hun . . . h,h,horses . . .
Sybil: Well, I’ve never seen such tatty cases.
Basil: Of course you haven’t. It’s only the true upper class that would have tat like that . . . It’s the whole point! . . . Oh, you don’t know what I’m talking about.
Sybil: No I don’t. But don’t ever move guests in the middle of a meal again . . . and get that picture up. (she goes into the office)
Basil: . . . Sour old rat. (Polly comes in) Ah! . . . Polly would you do me a favour? When you’re down in town this afternoon . . . just between ourselves, don’t mention it to my wife . . . pop into the bank and just . . . (writing the cheque . . .)
In the town. Polly leaves the bank, crosses the street, and walks past a parked car. She checks, looks into it and is surprised to see Danny Brown sitting in it with another man. Danny sees her, motions her urgently to get into the car; she does so. He shows her an official-looking card and points to a jeweller’s shop. At that moment Lord Melbury comes out of the shop, looks round furtively and hurries down the street. Danny nods in the direction of a waiting colleague who follows Melbury. Danny and Polly watch . . .
In reception: Basil is holding the picture against the wall, marking the position with a pencil. The phone rings.
Basil: . . . Could somebody answer that, please? (it goes on ringing) . . . Hallo! Is there nobody who can answer that? There must be someone . . . (Manuel runs in and heads for the phone) Not you. (Manuel goes away; Basil puts down the picture) . . . I’ll never get it up. I’ll cancel my holiday . . . do it then. (picks up the phone) Hallo, Fawlty Towers . . .
The ringing continues. Sybil comes in and answers the other phone.
Sybil: Hello, Fawlty Towers . . . Oh, hello, Brenda . . . (to Basil) Basil, it’s six o’clock.
Basil puts down his receiver wearily as Sybil continues her conversation. Polly comes in.
Basil (whispers): Ah, Polly . . . did you cash it?
Polly: Yes, er . . . Mr. Fawlty . . .
Basil: Good, good.
Polly (urgently): Could I have a word with you? (hands him the money in an envelope)
Basil: What?
Polly: Could I speak to you in the office for just a minute . . .
Basil: Not now Polly!
Polly: It’s very important, I . . .
Basil: Later! Later!
Sybil: Basil!
Basil: I’m just going, dear. Thank you, thank you so much, Polly.
He rushes into the bar. From behind the counter he hears someone come in. As it is exactly six o’clock he doesn’t need to see who it is.
Basil: Ah, good evening, Major.
The Major: Evening, Fawlty.
Basil: The usual?
The Major (looking at his watch): Er . . . er . . . oh, why not, indeed, why not? . . . I’ve just been watching one of those nature films on television.
Basil: Oh yes?
The Major: Did you know that a female gibbon gestates for seven months?
Basil: Seven months? Well I never . . . there you are, Major . . . seven . . . my word . . . (the Wareing family have come in) Ah, good evening, Mr. Wareing.
Mr. Wareing (coldly): A gin and orange, a lemon squash and a scotch and water please.
Basil: Certainly.
Mr. Wareing: Is there any part of the room you’d like us to keep away from?
Basil: What? . . . (false jollity) Oh, ha ha ha.
Mr. Wareing (curtly): We’ll be over there, then.
Basil (to the Major): Seven! Well, well . . .
Melbury (entering): Evening, Fawlty.
Basil: Ah, good evening, Lord Melbury.
Mr. Wareing (makes his point again): Anywhere?
Basil: Yes, anywhere, anywhere . . . Your lordship, may I offer you a little aperitif . . . as our guest?
Melbury:
That’s very kind of you . . . dry sherry if you please. (he wanders off)
Basil (to the Major): . . . What else? . . . Such . . . oh, I don’t know what . . .
The Major: Je ne ne sais quoi?
Basil: Exactly! Exactly! (Sybil enters) Ah, there you are, Sybil (he departs lord-wards with the sherry)
Sybil: Good evening, Major.
The Major: Evening, Mrs. Fawlty.
Melbury is glancing at some coins in a display case. Basil brings him his drink.
Basil: There you are, your lordship.
Melbury: Ah, thank you very much.
Basil: I see my little collection of coins tickles your interest.
Melbury: What? Oh, yes, yes.
Basil: All British Empire of course. Used to be quite a hobby of mine . . . little investment too . . .
Melbury: Quite . . . oh . . . talking about, er . . . did you manage to . . .
Basil: Oh yes. Here you are, your lordship.
Meanwhile Polly runs out of the hotel front door and signals to Danny, who is sitting in a car; he flashes his lights in acknowledgement. Back in the bar . . .
Melbury: . . . Oh yes, you know, these sorts of things, their value’s soared this last couple of years.
Basil: Have they really?
Melbury: Yes, yes. You take my advice. Get them revalued, and insure them for the full amount.
Basil: Yes, yes, I will.
Melbury: Can’t take any risks nowadays, I’m afraid.
Basil: No, no, quite.
Melbury: Well, I must be off.
Basil: Thank you, thank you, your lordship. I’ll certainly . . .
Melbury (leaving): Goodbye.
Sybil: Basil!
Basil: Yes, yes, I was just talking to Lord Melbury, dear . . .
Mr. Wareing: A gin and orange, a lemon squash, and a scotch and water please!
Basil: I do apologize, I was just talking to Lord . . .
Melbury (coming back in): Fawlty!
Basil (leaving the Wareings in mid-sentence): Yes, Lord Melbury?
Melbury: . . . I was just thinking . . . I’m having dinner tonight with the Duke of Buckleigh . . . do you know him?
Basil: Not . . . personally, no.
Melbury: Oh . . . well, he’s a great expert, you know, Sotheby’s and all that . . .
Basil: Is he?
Melbury: Well, if you liked, I could take them with me, ask him to have a quick look at them and find out their current value.
Basil (overwhelmed): Would . . . would you really?