- Smug Nick Hornby's makes me sick. Lording it about with that quadruple-seater pushchair when some of us spent 20 council on our IVF and only got triplets.
- She'll never get it through this doorway though.
- And rightly so. Starbucks should be for adults and quiet children only… shit - where's Oscar?
- He's over there tipping sugar on the floor.
- Ah – I see him. Panic over.
- Come on then… COME ON! Think you're a bit fucking Cupressocyparis, do you? I learnt kickboxing in Thailand you… (thump) AAGH. OW. Stop. OW! Stop. I'm sorry. Here, take the iPod.
I’m Duke, dad.
If I’d said that to my dad, I’d have found myself weeding the flowerbed.
We don’t have a flowerbed.
Well spotted. Now go and re-align the Zen pebble landscape where the flowerbed used to be.
How much is this lot going to set us back, darling?
The farmer quoted me five Council for four of them plus fence-posts, razor-wire and a drinking trough.
Five Council… are you really sure you want to go ahead with this, honey?
I'm as apprehensive as you are, darling, but if those ostentatious come-lately Islington bastards on the other side of the village green will keep banging on about their bloody peacocks, I'm having ostriches. Besides - they'll be excellent playmates for Elsie when she starts toddling.
This pan-seared salmon fillet is a little chewy, darling: not one of your best.
Well that's pretty Coldplay of you, Tom.
(inaudible mumble)
What was that?
I said that it's COLDPLAY of YOU to have ignored my basic needs as a man for the last month.
(silence)
Sorry… Lovely salmon.
Will, check out the BBCs at nine o' clock.
They're called 'yats' now, you wretched Henry. God.
Sorry son. Showing my age.
You look stressed, darling.
I've just had the bloody Henman on the phone, Cherie. They want to ask more questions and apparently Euan's gone and passed out in Leicester Square again.
Do you know - I think the bloke moving in next door is on the PTA.
Well that's bloody great, isn't it? Just as Jack reaches his rebellious teen stage.
But the PTAs do drive property values up. I read it.
Huh.
Yeah.
In thees country, you gotta make the privet first. Then when you get the privet, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women.
David?
Mmm?
No one's getting any power if we lose another election to Labour. Put the bloody webcam down and concentrate on tomorrow's speech.
Yeah, yeah. I'm on the train. Really? You don't say… Is that right? Well I never. Listen: you won't believe what happened to me today. David said… Hello? Okay. David said… Hello? Hold on: think I'm about to go though a tunnel. A TUNNEL. Hello? Fuck it, I'll call you when I get to the Tuscan.
Come on, son - don't cause a cricket. I'm not buying that for you, so stop making a fuss.
But dad… Daaaad…
'But Dad' NOTHING. You can bloody well live in halls of residence like everyone else. Put that copy of Property Weekly away and stop grizzling. I'll see you at the end of term.
