Keeping Mum

Gloria Goodfellow:
You can't just go 'round killing people just because you don't approve of them!

Grace Hawkins:
You know, that's what my doctors used to say. It was the one point we could never agree on.

[Holly opens the video camera to find Lance had filmed her undressing]

Holly Goodfellow:
Who the hell is this guy? I'll kill him!

Grace Hawkins:
Oh, that won't be necessary, dear.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Aren't we forgetting the small matter of dead bodies?

Grace Hawkins:
How did you know about the other bodies?

Gloria Goodfellow:
What other bodies?

Grace Hawkins:
Oh. You didn't know about the other bodies...

Gloria Goodfellow:
WHAT other bodies?

Grace Hawkins:
Oh, just Mr. Brown's dog. And... and Mr. Brown.

Gloria Goodfellow:
You killed them too?

Grace Hawkins:
I did it for you, dear.

Grace Hawkins:
You know, men do sometimes lose their way, dear. I mean, Walter is a sweet soul, but he's a bit slow-witted like the rest of them.

Gloria Goodfellow:
So you were married too?

Grace Hawkins:
Yes I was. A long time ago.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Did he lose his way?

Grace Hawkins:
With a little help from another woman.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Ohh...

Grace Hawkins:
Completely lost his head over her.

[the housekeeper's trunk, which has arrived before her, has a nametag reading "Grace"]

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Do you think it's a sign?

Gloria Goodfellow:
No. I think it's a trunk.

[Petey has just seen his bullies' bikes give way under them, not knowing that Grace cut the brake cables]

Petey Goodfellow:
Billy Martin's dead! Mummy! Mummy! Billy Martin came after me, but Grace was there and all I said was "broccoli" and now he's dead! Billy Martin's dead! Woo Hoo!

[Petey runs inside cheering]

Gloria Goodfellow:
[whispering to Grace] Could we have a word? Is Billy Martin really dead?

Grace Hawkins:
[whispers back] No, just unconscious if I'm any judge. But please don't tell Petey; he's so excited.

Gloria Goodfellow:
[to her neighbour's dog] F*** off.

Holly Goodfellow:
Grace,could you come and look at the pie?

Grace Hawkins:
Of course dear.

Holly Goodfellow:
I f***ed up big time [closes kitchen window]

Grace Hawkins:
I don't think she should use that language dear, I really don't.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Was that a brassiere over Holly's shoulder this morning?

Gloria Goodfellow:
You're half a day behind the rest of us you know. And it's called a bra nowadays.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
But why did she have it over her shoulder?

Gloria Goodfellow:
[sighs] She was doing the laundry.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
So. They made love in every room in the house did they? Lilian and Brian? And they went round twice. I think we've got some catching up to do.

Gloria Goodfellow:
No. I must see to Mrs Parker.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Oh gosh. Do you need me?

Gloria Goodfellow:
No, no. It's just the flower arranging committee.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Dear God. I swear that committee will be the death of her.

Police Interrogator:
Two dismembered bodies, Rosemary. Why don't you just start by telling me who they are.

Rosie Jones:
My husband and his mistress. They were planning to run away together.

Police Interrogator:
So you thought you'd just kill them instead?

Rosie Jones:
I couldn't very well stand idly by now could I?

Grace Hawkins:
[on meeting Grant the Goth] Oh, is it Halloween?

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
[mid-sermon]... which reminds me of the time an Englishman, Irishmen, Scotsman, a Vicar, a Rabbi and a Priest all go into a bar and the barman looks up and says 'Is this a joke?'.

Grace Hawkins:
This is Grace speaking. Would you like to come out from under the bed?

Gloria Goodfellow:
Um... Coming.

Gloria Goodfellow:
It's just not fair. Other daughters get to plan weddings, bake cakes, go shopping with their mothers. What do I do? Dispose of dead bodies.

Grace Hawkins:
She said herself she had a dicky heart.

Grace Hawkins:
It's not as though anyone's going to miss her.

[Gloria sees Lance's dead body in his car]

Gloria Goodfellow:
Oh Jesus Christ.

Grace Hawkins:
It's all right. I didn't chop him up or anything grisly like that. Where are you going?

Gloria Goodfellow:
I'm not doing it.

Grace Hawkins:
But I can't drive.

Gloria Goodfellow:
I'm not getting in the car.

Grace Hawkins:
I'm a learner. Officially I need someone with me.

Gloria Goodfellow:
I would say under the circumstances the normal rules do not apply.

Gloria Goodfellow:
This cannot go on mother, I've had enough.

Grace Hawkins:
I understand you're upset.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Too bloody right I'm upset, I've got two dead bodies. One in the pond and one in the sitting room.

Grace Hawkins:
No, you've got three dead bodies in the pond because you're forgetting...

Gloria Goodfellow:
Grace, this has gone far enough. And I mean it.

Holly Goodfellow:
What? You'd rather I got a boyfriend like Dad? Oh God, you would wouldn't you.

Gloria Goodfellow:
And I thought being an orphan was a bad thing.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Petey? Petey? Walter?

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Ah, Gloria. This is Bob and Ted from the waterboard, we're just discussing the...

Gloria Goodfellow:
Walter, where's Petey?

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Oh Lord! Mrs Calloway called about her crisis of faith. She was on the verge of losing it.

Gloria Goodfellow:
I know the bloody feeling.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
The title for this evening's opening address is Cod's Mysterious Ways. God! God! God's Mysterious Ways [calms down] . I'm sure Cod *have* mysterious ways, but it's the mysterious ways of God I want to talk about tonight. Cod will just have to wait for their own convention.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Oh God, what's that?

Lance:
What?

Gloria Goodfellow:
That.

Lance:
This is my lurve pack...

Gloria Goodfellow:
I know what it is Lance.

Lance:
I thought you Brits liked this kind of thing.

Gloria Goodfellow:
No. We don't.

Lance:
You do not think this is hot?

Gloria Goodfellow:
No.

Grace Hawkins:
Have you thought about sex?

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
What?

Grace Hawkins:
The Bible. It's full of sex, haven't you noticed? Song of Solomon?

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Ah yes, but that's a song between a devout man and God.

Grace Hawkins:
No. It's about sex. You read it again vicar.

Grace Hawkins:
Good old broccoli, eh? Shall we have some for supper?

Gloria Goodfellow:
I wonder if he's found that dog yet.

Grace Hawkins:
Oh, Mr Brown's on holiday.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Oh? Where?

Grace Hawkins:
I think he said 'down under'.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
It's sort of as we feared. The pond. Algae.

Gloria Goodfellow:
[writing to Grace] So in all, I'd say our life here is complete. It just ambles along in its quiet and merry way. A few hiccups here and there. Like the pond. Which now, they tell me, needs to be drained. It's a bit of a fuss as you can imagine but I'm sure we'll sort something out.

Grace Hawkins:
It was a simple misunderstanding. It could happen to anyone.

Mrs. Parker:
Is that Holly I heard?

Gloria Goodfellow:
Holly? No.

[Holly steps out of the van, zipping up her top]

Holly Goodfellow:
Good morning Mrs Parker.

Holly Goodfellow:
The Devil's in the details, Dad.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Could we not say that word on a Sunday?

Holly Goodfellow:
What? Dad?

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
[referring to the pond] They say it'll get worse if it's not dealt with.

Gloria Goodfellow:
[under her breath] A lot of things will get worse if they're not dealt with.

Grace Hawkins:
Oh my. Aren't you a busy bee?

Rosie Jones:
[as she's being locked in her cell] Oh, I don't suppose there's the chance of a cup of tea?

Holly Goodfellow:
Oh my God. He is really stiff!

Gloria Goodfellow:
Oh Holly, do you have to?

Holly Goodfellow:
I've never seen anything like this.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
[at the convention] And when I'm asked why vicars always answer a question by posing another question, I always reply 'well why shouldn't we?'

Holly Goodfellow:
Is she...?

Grace Hawkins:
Yes, I believe she is.

Holly Goodfellow:
Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Now, let me get this straight. My son is rid of his bullies, my husband has become a comedian and my nymphomaniac daughter has discovered cookery.

[looks up and whispers]

Gloria Goodfellow:
What's going on?

Train Ticket Collector:
Miss Jones? Rosemary Jones?

Rosie Jones:
Rosie, please. I prefer Rosie.

Train Ticket Collector:
I was just checking the trunk. The big leather trunk. Is, er, is that yours?

Rosie Jones:
Yes that's mine. Is there a problem?

Train Ticket Collector:
Er.

[uncertain]

Train Ticket Collector:
No.

Bob:
[discussing the problem of the pond] So there's really just the one option.

Reverend Walter Goodfellow:
Yes, there's, um, just the one option.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Which is?

Bob:
Drain it.

Gloria Goodfellow:
Drain it. [pauses] Shall I put the kettle on?