CREDITS
'The measure of a man is not in his beliefs,
'but in his actions.
'Who said that? Was it GK Chesterton? Never mind.
'Whoever it was knew what they were talking about.
'This vocation of ours,
'it's about so much more than just preaching the word of God.
'It's about living it.
'It's about getting out there amongst the people.
'Not just giving our time, we're giving ourselves.
'What we're doing isn't important.
'Who cares if we're sleeping, eating?
'These people need us.
'We can't just sit on the sidelines, praying.
'What use is that on its own? It's no bloody use at all.
'Our door must always be open. Day and night, night and day.
'We have to do as well. We have to act.'
We are the helpers.
Every minute of every hour of every day, it is our duty to help.
- Might I make a suggestion? - Of course.
Do you think perhaps you need a little holiday?
Welcome to Merries,
where there's never a dull day and the sun always shines.
Leave your worries far behind you
and forget about everyday strife!
We're here to put a smile on your face.
This is your time to relax, to unwind,
to enjoy life to the fullest.
You can be who you please at Merries,
so put on your glad rags,
dust off your dancing shoes,
and get ready to make friends
and memories you'll never forget.
I wish you and yours a truly wonderful day!
- Off you go, then. - Summer holiday!
I'm pretty sure hell is two hours in a car with that lot.
Sylvia, where's my hat?
On your head, Jack.
I need to make a call. I didn't cancel Bible study.
- Oh, no, no, no. - What?
No talking about work. We're on holiday.
- How was the train? - Busy. What have I missed?
Will, talking about work.
Oh, I don't talk about it that much.
You're still talking about it now.
- Where's Leonard? - Looking for his Gorki.
Ooh, Sylvia, they do donkey rides.
- A-ha! - Only Maxim can get me through this torment.
To hell with Maxim.
We're getting drunk and going on a pedalo.
Good Lord.
- Davenport party? - That's us.
Welcome to Merries!
I'm Roy Reeves, your most venerated host.
- This is the other half, Babs. - We met at castanet class.
Yeah, I don't know what it was - we just clicked.
Click, click!
Sunny, would you mind showing these fine folk to their chalets, please?
Absolutely, Mr Reeves.
Castanet class!
Ta-ra!
I hope you're all ready for a merry time!
Yes.
Doesn't sound very merry to me.
Are you ready for a merry time?!
- Yes! - Yes!
Yay!
Hi!
Didn't do this at private school.
Oh, good one!
Sorry, we're a little delayed due to...
Snoozing.
- Good to know. - We'll be right behind you.
Sorry we're late, we were... having a snooze.
- Sorry! Sorry! - Having a snooze?
If you say so.
- Jack! - What?
'Welcome, one and all!'
Hope you're ready to have some fun, fun, fun tonight,
you merry lot!
Welcome to the stage, the one, the only,
Merries House Band!
Fun Was there ever a more insipid word?
You know what I hate more than fun?
Enforced fun.
If someone has to tell you something's fun, it generally isn't.
Oh, neighbours. Nice.
I'm Sid Danker. This is my... wife, Margie.
- Nice to meet ya. - Hello.
How do you do?
Mwah!
- You been here before? - No, first time.
Quality of guest isn't what it was.
Too many Northerners.
Is that right?
I'll tell you what, we'll get on your table tomorrow, shall we?
We'll have a good chinwag.
- Lovely. - Yeah, lovely.
- Wouldn't that be lovely? - Lovely.
Scouts! I didn't cancel them.
Will!
Relax.
Tiptoe through the roses.
- Tulips. - Exactly.
- Breathe the fresh air. - Look at the stars.
Have a snooze, maybe.
It's been a while since you had a lady friend.
- Romance, that's what you need. - Find yourself a nice girl.
All right, all right, thank you, everyone,
for that sage and unsolicited advice.
Photograph? Two bob for five copies.
Oh, lovely.
Smile. Come on.
- Say "Merries". - Merries!
I couldn't help but overhear.
If it's a nice girl you're looking for...
She's not my type.
Too attractive?
Too friendly?
Too uncomplicated?
The Merries House Band, everyone! Weren't they fantastic, yeah?
Now, before we crack on,
regulars Margie and Sid
have been married two years today.
Hurray!
Come on, Marge, up you come.
Up you come.
Come on!
Ain't she beautiful?
Come on, give 'em a spin. Give 'em a spin.
Happy anniversary, darling.
You're the light of my life.
Let's see how that light's going in a decade, eh, folks?
Margie and Sid!
For goodness' sake, Sid, do you have to make such a show?
Everyone's staring!
Had my cheque book stolen the other day.
I didn't report it to the police.
Nah, the thief spent less than the wife.
But that is marriage for you.
It a very expensive way of getting your laundry done...
I'm not sure I can sit through this for the next five nights.
Try a whole summer. It's intolerable.
You know, marriage, it's like a deck chair, innit?
It's ever so comfy at first, bloody impossible to get out of.
- Whoa! - Sid!
Help me get him back to the chalet.
Quality of guest isn't what it was.
I've got 'em rolling in the aisles down here!
It's not that funny, Sid.
Now, the wife, she said...
Nightcap?
I would, but I thought it might be nice
to take in the evening air.
Right.
That's not the knock.
Simon says touch your knees.
Oh, they're playing Simon Says.
Do you wanna join in?
No? Oh.
Simon says hop like a bunny rabbit! Hop, hop, hop.
Good Lord.
Oh, come on, I'm starving.
My stomach thinks my throat's been cut.
- I know. I understand. - I've been here for 25 minutes!
This happened last year! I want a refund!
Ladies and gentlemen, if you could just bear with us.
- Come with me now. - We'll be serving breakfast as soon as we can.
Standards have slipped. Didn't I say?
Probably all those Northerners, eh
Oh, looks like somebody had the dodgy salmon.
Nah, I'm on my holidays.
- Guests aren't allowed in yet. - I'm a vicar.
Wife's in a terrible state.
It's none of my business.
Police haven't sealed off the scene.
My only business is relaxing with my thoughts.
Already seen the laundry men go in.
Guests leaving without being interviewed.
Absolutely not.
Absolutely bloody not.
You might want to photograph the body before you move him.
Detective Constable Gerry Wicks.
And who the hell might you be?
Detective Inspector Keating.
- I see. - Technically, "I see, sir."
Wife says he had a dodgy ticker.
Few too many beers, few too many ciggies.
Hits the deck like a sack of potatoes.
Apologies.
It's natural causes.
I'd stake my life on it.
Geordie, soil.
Here, you see.
He was dragged in.
Lidocaine.
Might not wanna stake your life on natural causes just yet.
Was he taking painkillers?
Roy had a slipped disk. It had bothered him for years.
- Was it bothering him last night? - Well, I wouldn't know.
He comes here to practise his routine after closing.
I was in bed.
Ah, thank you! Thank you for your concern... sir.
I look forward to speaking again, Gerry.
You don't mind if I call you Gerry, do you?
If you could be as discreet as possible,
I would really appreciate it.
You seemed upset by your husband's jokes.
They're terrible jokes.
About his terrible wife.
It's an act. It's not real.
A little close to the knuckle.
A joke isn't a joke if it's not close to the knuckle,
wouldn't you say?
Five whole days without a carcass, is it too much to ask?
We keep going.
We keep giving our guests a merry old time, for Roy.
She seems pretty stoic.
- Howdy there, fellas. - Howdy, Sid.
- Is it a murder? - Is it the wife?
Sylvia!
In my Agatha Christies, it's always the wife.
- Well, it looks like natural causes. - Aw, poor chap.
Time to join our conga line!
- Conga line, Sylvia! - Ooh, I love a conga line!
- Sorry about Mr Reeves. - He'd want us to enjoy ourselves.
Let's make this a day to remember!
The longest conga line yet!
Did you hear that music blast last night?
It was ten past midnight, I checked.
Come and join the conga line!
Come on, you two, no excuses!
Because nothing says "in memoriam" like a conga line
- Is that an Argus? - It is.
Bit old, but...
I use an Argus. I've actually just had some photos accepted
- for an exhibition. - Really? We'd love to take a look.
Calling Mr Marlowe to the conga line!
Daniel Marlowe, hurry up!
Duty calls. Another time, perhaps.
- Oh, Gorki. - Have you read it?
Half of it. It's quite...
Impenetrable? Dull?
So unbelievably dull.
Calling Leonard Finch to the conga line.
Leonard Finch to the conga line. Hurry up!
Leonard Finch.
Bryan Stanford.
So, he's listening to this.
He slumps forward...
OK, but then how does he end up in the ballroom?
Geordie.
Excuse me, guests aren't allowed in here.
Sorry, we... we didn't realise.
_
Ah, would you look at that?
Mm-hm, fancy
This safe, where does Mr Reeves keep the key?
- You shouldn't be in here. - He's a detective.
- He's just doing his job. - And I'm doing mine.
Perhaps you'd like to answer his question.
Perhaps you'd like to obey the sign.
Ah. Mm-hm.
Enjoy rifling through a dead man's belongings.
Does she ever stop smiling?
Sorry, you were probably just being polite,
- saying you'd see my work. - Not at all.
Beautiful light.
Not that I'm an aficionado.
- Firenze! - Have you been?
No.
Me neither. I've never been anywhere.
Thank you.
I went to Morocco once.
It was transcendent.
Hard to find transcendence in this place.
I can imagine.
There's hours' worth of Cinefilm here.
Oh, Margie gets about a bit.
Not just the Northerners lowering the tone, then.
She's no ordinary holidaymaker. She was working the camp.
Roy sets his male guests up with Margie, takes these...
Then what, he blackmails them?
Not exactly the souvenir snap you'd want your wife to see, is it?
Well, would you look at that?
Well, that is certainly one way to meet the light of your life.
Bodies square, please.
Right.
May I?
All right. Got my eye on you.
- Keep your hands north of the border. - Sid, please!
So, how long you been coming here?
- I used to work here, so... - Let me guess. You're a dancer.
Dancer, singer.
Entertainment was something back then.
Local paper used to say I was destined for the West End.
Is this where you and Sid met?
Place must hold happy memories.
I think you should concentrate on your footwork, Mr Davenport.
Margie, we've seen the photographs.
The ones Mr Reeves took.
Excuse me.
Margie?
What did you say to her?
What is it, my love?
- Come here. - Stop fretting, Sid, please.
I demand to know what you said to her.
Demand? Don't be so dramatic.
They know. About me.
What sodding business is it of yours?
- I thought you were on your holidays? - So did I, Sid.
I saved her from that bastard.
What matters is Margie's with me now and she's happy.
You got nothing to be ashamed of, my love.
Do you have to make such a song and dance, Sid?
You must've despised him.
Us, and anyone who met him.
- So, why come back? - To rub the bastard's nose in it.
He tried to ruin me.
I got the girl. I got the happy ever after.
Good riddance to him, I say.
Do you ever feel different from other people?
I think the more appropriate question might be,
do I ever feel remotely the same?
You know, I... I look around here and I see all these people smiling
and enjoying themselves.
All this inane bloody nonsense.
They're just having fun.
It is terribly inane, though, isn't it?
Being different isn't so terribly bad.
Better than being something you're not.
You'll go there one day.
Sell your photographs outside the Duomo.
Make an absolute fortune.
No.
Sorry.
No, sorry. I'm sorry.
Bringing your wife back to the place she turned tricks.
To show off to your blackmailer.
Who says romance is dead?
- Who turned tricks? - Who's a blackmailer?
No-one.
I've set up the projector in the main office, Inspector.
Thank you.
It's just a bit of film I've got to watch, Cathy.
Natural causes, you said.
As natural as they come.
And Detective Wicks will be here shortly.
Mm-hm.
Promise me there is not a murderer on the loose.
What about the kids?!
Wouldn't fancy his chances against our lot.
We don't know if it's murder.
Not for sure.
Five days, you said.
Do you know what's worse than enforced fun?
Someone that sulks their way through it.
Don't be angry.
Why would I be angry?
I was convivial with Bryan,
he got the wrong impression,
- and... - Sir?
And...?
He tried to kiss me.
Bryan? Bryan, Bryan?!
Shhh!
Take it as a compliment.
You're a handsome chap. He's a handsome chap.
Overdose.
There's enough lidocaine to kill that bloody donkey out there.
I still think there's a chance it could be natural causes.
When was the last time you had a murder case?
'36, I believe.
Where were you?
School.
I'll look this over for you, how about that, hm?
I doubt it'll make much difference, but if you must.
- Mrs Reeves. - Evening, Miss Grant.
Lovely dress.
Were you aware of your husband's dealings?
We having a merry old time?
Did you know he was blackmailing the guests?
- Of course I bloody did. - But you didn't stop him?
This place was my father's.
Then I married, and it belonged to Roy.
He ruined it.
That's the way it goes, isn't it?
So, yes, I knew what he was doing. And, no, I didn't stop him.
Does that answer your question?
- Lidocaine. - Injected?
Swelling in the throat.
So he ingested it. With his supper, maybe?
Starting to wish I hadn't had that hot pot.
He was fine on stage.
It must be someone who knew him.
- Excuse me, would you like to dance? - Not now, sorry.
Someone who knew he took lidocaine.
What?
You only live once.
I think I was a little rude.
- A little? - Inordinately rude.
Extremely, supremely...
- Extraordinarily? - Extraordinarily rude.
I'd love to dance with you.
You coming or not?
Now who's smiling?
- So, tell me. - Pamela. My real name's Pamela.
- Pamela's nice. Pamela's... - Middle-aged with too many kids.
Ha! And a husband she hates.
Pamela Smith doesn't get top billing at the Palladium.
Besides, everyone here's pretending to be someone they're not.
I bet even you are.
- Sadly, I am deeply uncomplicated. - Uh-uh. No.
This face is hiding all sorts of secrets.
Go on, then, try me.
You've got a love child.
Not that I know of.
Doomed affair with a beautiful widow?
Ah, if only.
There must be something.
I am my work. My work is me.
That's as scandalous as it gets.
Do you ever feel like you work because there's something missing?
- That got serious suddenly. - We can do serious, can't we?
I love what I do. I love making people happy.
Oh, I love my job, too. I just...
Sometimes, I feel like there must be something else.
Like what?
I don't know.
Yes, you do.
You know how this goes, right?
We have a few nice nights, you go back to your life,
I go back to mine, and we never see each other again.
Mmm, it's a terrible idea
- Terrible. - Truly, truly awful.
Er... I'm afraid I'm gonna have to stop you there.
He told me he'd destroy this.
He used you, like he used Margie.
Not like Margie. I'm not cheap.
You don't like what Roy was making you do.
Him dying certainly put a stop to that.
You think I killed him?
- Did you? - 100 times in my head.
But no.
Did you sleep with them?
Is that all this was to you?
Just a way to blackmail me?
Oh, this is the most uncomfortable bed I've ever slept in.
It's cheap and it's gaudy,
and I'd quite like Mrs C to boil these sheets.
Doesn't seem so bad.
Just a minute!
Might I talk with you?
Bryan.
I never had Sunny down as a younger version of Margie.
Are you upset?
- No. - You liar.
You're right about one thing. You do not have a type.
From a nun to a prostitute.
- Geordie. - It's almost biblical.
It's Roy.
Well, if he's in it, then who took it?
Thank you, contestant five. And the scores are?
- Go on, Margie, get up there. - I don't want to, Sid.
And our final pair of pins!
Go on, Sylvia.
Contestant number six is housekeeper to Reverend Davenport
and his curate Mr Finch.
What did God say after creating man? "I can do better."
And these legs are living proof.
- Bloody hell. - Higher! Higher!
Lower! Lower!
Thank you, contestant number six.
And the scores are?
Well done, Sylvia.
And the winner is contestant number 6!
Oh!
This might be the happiest day of my life.
Our wedding apart, of course.
You know they give it to the old girls out of sympathy.
Know that from experience, Margie?
Mrs Chapman.
Excellent.
A word, if you don't mind.
Mr Reeves would set up the men with Sunny.
I'd film them.
In flagrante?
No, Sunny would never go that far.
She'd dance with them. A kiss, maybe.
What other footage do you have?
You were filming the night Mr Reeves died.
Er... just his comedy routine.
"Comedy" in inverted commas.
Can I take this?
Absolutely.
- You're a clergyman? - That's right.
It's a rather delicate matter.
Anything you say will be in confidence.
Your curate.
I saw him with a man.
They were in bed together.
That can't be the case.
Are you doubting what I saw?
I'm doubting your reading of the situation.
What other way is there to read it?
- I'll speak to him. - I should report it.
I'll speak to him.
Please, just... just leave it with me.
Action has to be taken, Mr Davenport.
He has to be dealt with.
Bugger. Nothing.
Let's watch it again.
No, no, no, you don't.
You're gonna have dinner with me, then we're going to dance,
before you walk me out under the stars
to tell me that you love me.
Understood?
That sounds pretty comprehensive.
He keeps staring.
Have a drink, stop worrying.
- I'm so scared. - Go on, you'll be great.
Roy promised he'd make her a star.
What she had to do wasn't her choice.
Roy wasn't there when she made a play for me.
Who said she was making a play?
Did it ever cross your mind that it was as simple as she liked you?
Not now, I've got butterflies enough.
I'm sorry. You can understand why I thought what I thought.
That I was cheap?
- That your intentions towards me were... - Cheap.
- I'm not Margie. - I didn't say you were.
I didn't sleep with them.
I'm not hitching my wagon to the first miserable old sod
who can get me out of here.
I liked you.
Liked, past tense?
The Merries House Band!
Now, please, give a very warm welcome to tonight's act,
Miss Pamela Smith.
We'll see.
Thank you. Thank you.
I've been doing some decorating recently.
D'you know how many men it takes to wallpaper a bedroom?
Well, depends on how thinly you slice them.
A friend of mine once said that marriage is...
- The stout. - What?
..a three-ring circus.
The lidocaine was in the stout. Engagement ring,
wedding ring, suffering.
Right, don't take your eyes off that glass.
- Oh, bugger. - No, no, no. No.
Look how much stout's in his glass now.
Maybe he got a top up.
Or someone gave him that glass.
I sometimes think wives are like ventriloquists.
They sit there nodding
whilst the dummy does all the talking.
You know what I mean, ladies, "Yak, yak, yak."
Ah, my grandmother had it right.
She buried three husbands. Three!
Two of them were only napping.
My granny was onto something, she really was.
She said the quickest way to a man's heart
was through his chest.
She wasn't wrong.
You put the lidocaine in your own drink
and you gave it to Roy.
I don't follow you.
Outside.
I have three pets, which is pretty much like having a husband.
A dog who growls all morning, a parrot who swears all day,
and a cat who comes home late at night!
If your husband brings you flowers, ladies,
and says it's for no reason, there's a reason.
There is most definitely a reason.
'I'm not Margie.
'I'm not hitching my wagon to the first miserable old sod
'who can get me out of here.'
'For goodness' sake, Sid, do you have to make a show?
'Everyone's staring!'
Roy set out to ruin you, Sid.
You put enough lidocaine in that drink to kill him.
- That's right, isn't it? - No.
No, it isn't right.
It's pretty insensitive to bring your wife here for your anniversary.
A place where everyone knew about her past.
Perhaps that was the final humiliation.
You put the lidocaine in Sid's pint.
And then Roy accidentally took the pint intended for your husband.
When Sid fell, you must've thought it was all going to plan.
But he was drunk, not poisoned.
Sid!
I don't understand.
You took Sid back to your chalet.
But he wasn't dying.
So you panicked.
And then, for some reason, you went out again.
I still had the vial on me.
Had to get rid of it.
Margie, my love, what are you saying?
We know Roy was in his office because of the music.
And we know he made it outside because of the mud on his shoes.
You knew Roy practised his routine after hours.
So you dragged him into the ballroom.
When I saw him, I knew.
Knew what, Margie?
That I'd killed the wrong man.
You don't mean that.
I don't understand. I don't.
You brought me here to score points.
How do you think that makes me feel?
Roy was the one who humiliated you.
You treat me like some kind of prize.
I feel worthless, Sid.
You were nothing but a whore when I met you.
And you still make me feel like one.
- I saved you from the bastard. - That's not enough.
- I gave you everything. - Not love, Sid.
You never gave me love.
Even on holiday, we can't be us.
Bryan would be a damn fool to take it any further.
It's more than that.
We can never be ourselves.
I long to hold hands.
Imagine if we could hold hands every day.
It would become very dull, very quickly.
Come here.
- Right now, straight to the car. - Stop running, Ivy!
- Knew that Margie had a glint in her eye. - Oh, that's definitive.
I was right, though. It was the wife.
- You thought it was Roy's wife! - You can't just pick any wife.
These are yours.
Thank you.
I've spoken to Mr Finch.
And?
I'll be taking up the matter on our return.
I felt it was my duty.
More than that, I felt it was a moral obligation.
I hope you understand.
I'd appreciate it if you'd let me handle it from here.
Of course.
What did he want?
- Photographs. - That all?
What else would it be?
Now, I don't know about you,
but I am really looking forward to getting home.
Thing about this place, everyone always leaves.
You could leave, too.
I'm going to. End of the season.
You're wrong, by the way.
I seem to be making a habit of that.
Maybe you work because you love it,
not because there's something missing.
Shame.
I think I could've fallen in love with you.
Welcome to Merries, where there's never a dull day,
and the sun always shines.
Forget work,
leave your worries far behind
and get ready to make friends and memories you'll never forget.
For those guests who are leaving us, we wish you bon voyage.
But don't despair, it's not forever.
Though you may be far away, no distance can keep us apart.
We'll hold you safe in our hearts.
And in time, we'll meet again.
*CREDITS*