Nice, though.
MY SERENE AND LOVING FAMILY – FILM TRANSCRIPT
INT. 5 ROSEWOOD CLOSE. DAY
Camera pans towards a closed door.
AUDREY (VOICE-OVER)
So this is my dad’s study. This is where he works when he’s not at the office.
The door is pushed open by a hand. We see Dad, slumped at his desk, gently snoring. On the screen is an Alfa Romeo sports car.
AUDREY (V.O.)
Dad? Are you asleep?
Dad jumps up and hastily closes down his monitor.
DAD
I wasn’t ASLEEP. I was thinking. So, have you wrapped your present for Mum?
AUDREY (V.O.)
That’s why I’m here. Do you have any wrapping paper?
DAD
I do.
He reaches for a roll of wrapping paper and hands it to Audrey.
DAD
And look what else!
He produces a white pâtisserie box and opens it to reveal a large birthday cake. It is iced with a big ‘39’.
There is silence for a moment.
AUDREY (V.O.)
Dad, why have you put ‘thirty-nine’ on Mum’s cake?
DAD
No one’s too old for a personalized birthday cake.
(He twinkles at the camera)
I know I’m not.
AUDREY (V.O.)
But she’s not thirty-nine.
DAD
(puzzled)
Yes she is.
AUDREY (V.O.)
No she’s not.
DAD
Yes she—
He breaks off and gasps. Aghast. He looks at the cake and back at the camera.
DAD
Oh God. Will she mind? No. Of course she won’t mind. I mean, it’s one year, what’s the big deal—
AUDREY (V.O.)
Dad, she will SO mind.
Dad looks panic-stricken.
DAD
We need a new cake. How long do we have?
We hear the sound of a door banging downstairs.
MUM (OFF-SCREEN)
I’m home!
Dad looks freaked out.
DAD
Audrey, what shall I do?
AUDREY (V.O.)
We can fix it. We can change it to ‘thirty-eight’.
DAD
With what?
He picks up a Tipp-Ex pot.
AUDREY (V.O.)
No!
There’s a knocking at the door and Frank comes in.
FRANK
Mum’s home. When are we doing her birthday tea?
Dad is uncapping a Sharpie.
DAD
I’ll use this.
AUDREY (V.O.)
No! Frank, go to the kitchen. We need some writing icing or something. Anything edible you can write with. But don’t let Mum know what you’re doing.
FRANK
(baffled)
Anything edible you can write with?
DAD
Quick!
Frank disappears. The camera focuses on the cake.
AUDREY (V.O.)
How did you get her age wrong? I mean, how did you manage that?
DAD
(clutches head)
I don’t know. I’ve spent all month writing financial reports about next year. My whole mindset is next year. I guess I lost a year somewhere.
Frank bursts into the room holding a squeezy bottle of Heinz ketchup.
AUDREY (V.O.)
Ketchup? Seriously?
FRANK
(defensive)
Well, I didn’t know!
Dad grabs the bottle.
DAD
Can we turn a ‘nine’ into an ‘eight’ with ketchup?
FRANK
You won’t fool her.
AUDREY (V.O.)
Go over the whole number with ketchup. Make the whole thing a ketchup cake.
FRANK
Why would you ice a cake with ketchup?
DAD
(hurriedly icing)
Mum loves ketchup. It’s fine. It’s all good.
OK, so here’s a life lesson. Don’t try fixing a birthday cake with ketchup. Tipp-Ex would have been better.
As Dad brought out the cake, Mum’s jaw dropped. And not in a good way. I mean, if you take a white iced cake and pipe all over it with ketchup, it basically looks like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
We all launched into ‘Happy Birthday’ extra loudly, and as soon as we’d finished and Mum had blown out her (one) candle, Dad said, ‘Great! So let me take that away and cut it up—’
‘Wait.’ Mum put a hand on his. ‘What IS that? That’s not ketchup?’
‘It’s a Heston Blumenthal recipe,’ said Dad without blinking. ‘Experimental.’
‘Right.’ Mum still looked puzzled. ‘But isn’t that . . .?’ Before anyone could stop her, she was scraping the ketchup off with a napkin. ‘I thought so! There’s a message underneath.’
‘It’s nothing,’ said Dad quickly.
‘But it’s piped in icing!’ She wiped away the last blobs of ketchup and we all stared in silence at the smeared red-and-white cake.
‘Chris,’ said Mum at last in an odd voice. ‘Why does it say thirty-nine?’
‘It doesn’t! It says thirty-eight. Look.’ Dad’s hand traced over the vestiges of the ketchup. ‘That’s an eight.’
‘Nine.’ Felix pointed confidently at the cake. ‘Number nine.’
‘It’s an eight, Felix!’ said Dad sharply. ‘Eight!’
I could see Felix staring at the cake in puzzlement and felt a twinge of sympathy for him. How’s he supposed to learn anything with nutso parents like ours?
‘It’s a nine, Felix,’ I whispered in his ear. ‘Daddy’s joking.’
‘Do you think I’m thirty-nine?’ Mum looked up at Dad. ‘Do I look thirty-nine? Is that what you think?’ She squashed her face between her hands and glared at him. ‘Is this a thirty-nine-year-old face? Is that what you’re telling me?’
I think Dad should have just junked the cake.
So this evening my dad is taking my mum on a date for her birthday – as you can tell from the clouds of perfume that suddenly descend onto the landing. Mum isn’t exactly subtle when she goes out. As she always tells us, her social life is practically non-existent since having three kids, so when she goes out, she makes up for it with perfume, eye-liner, hairspray and heels. As she totters down the stairs, I can see a little fake-tan blotch on the back of her arm, but I won’t tell her. Not on her birthday.
‘Will you be all right, darling?’ She puts her hands on my shoulders and looks anxiously at me. ‘You’ve got our numbers. Any problems, you tell Frank to call, straight away.’
Mum knows I’m not brilliant with phones. Which is why Frank is officially on baby-sitting duty, not me.
‘I’ll be fine, Mum.’
‘Of course you will,’ she says, but doesn’t let go of my shoulders. ‘Sweetheart, take it easy. Have an early night.’
‘I will,’ I promise.
‘And Frank . . .’ She looks up as he lopes into the hall. ‘You will be doing homework only. Because I am taking this with me.’
She brandishes a power cable triumphantly, and Frank gapes.
‘Did you—?’
‘Unplug your computer? Yes, young man, I did. I don’t want that computer going on for a nano-second. If you finish your homework you can watch TV or read a book. Read some Dickens!’
‘Dickens,’ echoes Frank in disparaging tones.
‘Yes, Dickens! Why not? When I was your age—’
‘I know.’ Frank cuts her off. ‘You went to see Dickens live. And he rocked.’
Mum rolls her eyes. ‘Very funny.’
‘So! Where’s the birthday girl?’ Dad comes hurrying down the stairs, bringing with him a cloud of aftershave. What is it with parents and too much perfume? ‘Now, are you guys OK?’ He looks at me and Frank. ‘Because we’ll only be round the corner.’
My parents cannot leave the house. Mum has to do a final check on Felix, and Dad remembers he left the sprinkler on in the garden and then Mum wants to make sure that her Sky+ is recording EastEnders.