(THEME MUSIC PLAYING) Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk.

(MOCKINGLY) Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut, tut.

You're "tutty," darling.

When Patsy comes in, I want you to treat her with a little bit of respect, alright?

Patsy: Click, flash, flash, click, flash, flash, flash, click, click, click, flash, flash, flash.

Guys, guys, guys!

Just give me a break, darlings, just give me a break, sweetie.

I have a life to lead!

Click, click, click.

This way, Patsy.

Fellows, fellows, fellows.

-Sweeties, darling, can you just leave me alone?

-(CAMERA SHUTTERS CLICKING) Click, click, click, flash, flash, flash, flash, flash.

Click, click, click.

Patsy.

Patsy.

Patsy.

(EXASPERATED SIGH) (INHALES AND EXHALES DEEPLY) -You alright, darling?

-(SIGHS) You're not letting this get to you, are you?

No, of course not.

-Little bit of Bolly?

-Yeah, just a smidge.

Oh!

-Are these today's?

-Yes, sweetie.

-Anything in them?

-Not much, darling, no.

"MP in drug-crazed sex romp shock with fash mag slag."

Oh!

Damn.

I know.

Well, there is that, thank you very much, sweetie.

Well, in fact, you're front page in most of them, darling, but it has only been a day, you know.

Oh.

I mean, who could still possibly be interested in reading all this?

His wife?

(BOTH SIGH) Listen, Saffy, I am the victim in this case.

I mean, he's just using me for publicity.

He's riding on my back to get his pathetic little face in the papers.

Exactly, sweetie.

Patsy's had the hassle and trauma.

She's been forced to leave her flat, darling.

Forced?

Even the cockroaches left that hole of their own accord.

(GRUNTS) They are trying to make out, darling, that Patsy is some kind of sex-crazed, morally corrupt, drunken high-class prostitute, darling.

Pretty accurate, so far.

Look at this.

"Four-Letter Patsy in MP sex row."

"Orgy of alcohol and sex near MP's home."

Ridiculous.

Those bastards, scum, -filth of the press, darling.

-Bastards!

Bastards!

Saffy: Well, make up your mind.

One minute they're scum, and the next, you're giving them lunch and pouring booze down their throats in the great name of PR.

Booze?

Booze, sweetie?

Booze, darling?

Is that what they call it down at the uni bar, booze, sweetie, is it?

Will you be popping in there, darling, after a hard day's lecture for some "half a pint of shandy" booze?

Some pork scracklings?

Oh, God.

Where was I?

Ugh!

"Illicit passion for MP's posh clothes mag gal pal."

Oh, God.

"Shocked wife of MP keeps silent."

Both: Bitch!

Patsy: Bitch.

"Queen furious..." That's not you.

Oh, well, heigh-ho.

Let them write what they want.

-Pfft.

-"Continued on page five..." I mean, I shall just rise above it.

I shan't let this thing affect me in... Bastard!

No, no, no!

Darling, what?

Quick, what, what, what?

Show, show, show, show, show.

-"Close sources--" -No, further, further.

-"...Patsy Stone..." (GASPS) -Yes.

"For..." "Forty seven."

(SCREAMS) -Darling.

-I'll sue!

Edina: We will sue.

Well, how old is she?

I'm 39!

And I'm an ovum.

-(SCREAMS) -We should sue, darling.

Patsy: It's just not fair!

(SCREAMS HYSTERICALLY) Another pig-ugly MP making a fool of himself with some scrawny old hooker, I see.

Old!

Old, old, old!

Nothing like a good old sex scandal.

Bit more exciting than the ones in my day.

God, what was it in your day?

"Woman shows ankle to chimney sweep shock"?

You know, in my day...

Your day?

Which century was that?

In my day, there was a sense of style about the whole thing, you know.

Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies, gorgeous little women who kept their mouths shut and just looked gorgeous and gave the whole thing an air of dignity.

You know, that's the way I shall play it, Eddy.

Not like these two-a-penny tarts of recent times, you know.

Kiss and tell, blurt it all out for the promise of a quick buck and instant fame.

Not me, sweetie, my lips are sealed.

You'll do HELLO!

magazine, though?

-Oh, yeah.

-Edina: Yeah.

Yeah, might as well do it in the comfort of your own home.

-(DOORBELL DINGS) -(GASPS) Eddy, Eddy, the people from HELLO!

are here.

(SIGHS) Hello.

That's right.

Antonia.

Oh, it's interesting.

Rustic.

Ethnic.

Would you like to follow me into my gracious drawing room?

Sweetie, darling, can you just stop that a minute and just come and help me here?

I can't unwrap all these things.

They're all objets from my shop, darling, so keep the price tags showing.

The woman from HELLO!

magazine is here, and I haven't finished decorating the room.

Why bother?

Because, sweetie, what you can't tell about a person by what they have chosen you should see on their coffee table isn't worth knicker elastic.

What do you think, darling?

Look, look, look.

What do you think?

It's an Eskimo papoose.

Huh?

Don't look like that, sweetie.

Any chance for a quick buck in the Arctic, they take the babies out and ship 'em down, I tell you.

Ugh.

You know, I think it's going to be really great if you move into halls.

I'm really, really enjoying it.

I mean, it takes a little while to get used to it.

You know, all the noise and everything.

Like other people coming and going all the time and other people's sound systems.

Hmm.

Sounds like home.

But you've gotta get used to it if you're moving in.

-Uh... -(MOUTHING) Moving in?

Would you like another Aqua Libra?

Um, I don't suppose you've got any low-alcohol cider, have you?

'Cause that's what everyone's drinking at the moment.

Um, well, no, actually, I don't drink.

Oh.

You should give it a try.

It's brilliant.

You know, last night, at a party, I drank a whole can.

Now, where am I?

I'm sorry?

Where am I here?

In my gracious drawing room.

No.

I mean, where is this?

Shepherd's Bush?

Holland Park!

Holland Park!

God!

Ow.

It's not the outskirts either.

It's not the edge of Holland Park.

This is the rich heartland of Holland Park here.

Alright?

Is the photographer here yet?

No, we never do photos on the same day.

Next week.

Ugh.

It's over a 70-foot drawing room, west-facing garden.

£1.5 million.

(SIGHS) Right.

Let's, um, kick off, shall we?

Is it important to have lovely things around you?

-Yes.

-Yes.

Is it a miracle that you are walking again?

It is a miracle that I can walk at all.

I bless the wonder of life and the newness of living.

-Edina: Ow.

-Jed might be around tomorrow night, as, um, he and I sort of hang out a bit, you know.

Catching up on lecture notes and that sort of thing.

-Ooh!

-No, nothing like that.

I know what you're thinking.

You may be sorely disappointed there.

Although the other night... he did get locked up in our part of the halls... Poor bastard.

And he did have to sleep on the floor in my room, but-- Only 'cause he couldn't chew through the restraints with his bare teeth, I should imagine.

You see, Jed's really, really lovely-- Honestly, can you just shut Titicaca here up for a second?

Sweetie, hold my hand.

(WINCES) (SCREAMS) Ohh, ta... Oh.

That's better, now, that's better.

Now listen, you.

I said you could go to university, darling.

I did not say you could move into the residential home.

I'm only thinking of moving into the halls of residence because it is easier for me, alright?

Easier for you.

Easier for you.

God, I can see the headline now, can't you, sweetie?

"Home alone mother left to fend for herself... "while good-time daughter shacks up student-style.

'I left her with a neighbor and friend', she said."

Oh, yes.

Oh, yes.

Oh, God, I can't... (MUMBLES, SIGHS) Help Mama, sweetie-e-e. Help Mama, darling.

(SCREAMS) And when will the baby be born?

Do you hope to have a big family?

Oh.

(LAUGHS) Of course, how stupid of me.

Those questions were transparently for a much younger woman.

And you're not Annabel Croft?

No, I'm Patsy Stone.

Stone... Oh.

Did your life change much after Basic Instinct?

Ja?

Bonjour, oui, oui, oui?

Just put me... (TRYING TO SPEAK GERMAN) Oh, God.

Four bloody languages and they can't specialize 'em.

Just put me through to Zermatt!

Zermatt!

Zer... Who are you calling?

My doctor, Philip, darling.

He's skiing in Switzerland.

(YELLING) Hello?

Hello, Philip?

Yes, it's Edina.

Hmm?

You know this foot of mine, darling?

Yeah, I've just bashed it on the doorframe, it's very painful.

Huh?

Huh?

Oh, God, he's just hit the grand slalom.

I can't hear him from wind noises.

-Patsy: Eddy... -Oh, Pats, darling, how did it go?

Do these work?

For how old, sweetie?

Oh, for 35?

You might need a few more for 35, I think, darling.

Well, how much more?

A bungee jump with the elastic tied to the back of your head should get that all back into shape.

Edina: Swoosh, swoosh.

Yes, yes, swoosh, swoosh...

Yes.

Swoosh, swoosh.

Yes, yes, ye-yeah, oh, oh... Operation... darling.

Hospital, yes.

(PANTS) Alright, alright.

Thank you.

(SIGHS) Did you catch that, darling?

I've gotta go to hospital.

Hospital, Eddy?

I'll come with you.

Edina: Alright.

God.

I'm gonna have to pack and order the ambulance and everything.

Why don't you take your car?

Because, sweetie, I do not pay huge insurance premiums so I can just drive myself to hospital, alright?

And not stay overnight, okay?

Come on, Pats.

Which one shall we go to?

Hmm?

Cromwell?

Heritage?

Champneys?

-Ooh, yeah.

They got a pool?

-Yeah.

-They got a pool?

-Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Ow, ow.

Don't just put me straight in, circle around a bit.

There's nothing worse than not being able to see the person being put into the ambulance.

Oi.

What about me?

I'm sick too, you know.

-Okay, okay, okay, here she comes.

-(SIREN WAILING) MP's tart in mercy dash.

(WAILING CONTINUES) -Reporter 1: Excuse me.

-Reporter 2: Oh, okay.

Reporter 3: This way, Patsy.

Smile.

That's nice.

Smile this way.

Patsy, how are you?

I'm fine, I'm just here with a sick friend.

Ten grand for the story, exclusive, know what I mean?

I regret to inform you that I've already given that exclusive to HELLO!

magazine.

-How long am I going to sit here, Patsy?

-Reporters: Patsy.

Patsy.

I'll send someone out to get you, sweetie.

-Reporter 1: Over here.

-Reporter 2: How long are you here for?

-Reporter 1: Over here.

-Reporter 3: Over here.

-Reporter 4: Turn round, Patsy.

-Reporter 5: Smile.

-Reporter 6: Patsy.

-Reporter 7: Patsy, nice smile.

-(OVERLAPPING CHATTER) -Excuse me, I'm the sick one.

Excuse me, I'm the sick one.

(MUSIC PLAYING ON TELEVISION) -No bloody minibar.

-Ugh!

That's hard to credit, isn't it, really?

Oh, let's not have the TV on, darling.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER ON TV) What is this, morning television?

No, sweetie, it's worse than that.

It's mid-morning bloody television, isn't it?

Patronizing women, castrated males and Welsh cartoons till people who like a gin and tonic get home at 6:30, darling.

Turn it off.

Gin and tonic, Eddy.

Ohh!

Gin and tonic, sweetie.

Mm-hmm-hmm.

You order it, sweetie.

I'm just gonna check out the bathroom.

Have you got any pain at the moment, dear?

Oh, yes, yes.

(LAUGHING) Mary!

Mary!

Come in here a minute and look at this.

Mother of God!

What is it?

You know, my daughter could get away with wearing something like this.

Yes, well, maybe she could get away with it, but I doubt very much if she'd be able to afford it.

Well, she's only three years old.

Ugh.

Look, just furnish us with the appropriate drugs and then leave the room, please.

For the laugh you've given us, it's the least we can do for you.

Now, how about some distalgesic?

Distalges... Distalge... Is that alright, Pats?

-Wash 'em down with brandy.

-Edina: Yeah.

I want a drip and a little heart bleep machine here, alright?

I've seen Casualty, I know what goes on.

Mary: Now, have you any pain?

No, but I'm still paying.

Have you got any of that stuff they use in Awakenings?

-L-Dopa.

-Patsy: L-Dopa, yes.

Two of those on the rocks, and give me some cigarettes.

Will that be Benson & Hedges or Marlboro?

Both.

And bring me the wine list.

-(WHISPERING) Hey.

Is that... -Nurse: Is it?

-Is that her?

-I believe so.

Yeah.

Hello, dear.

I thought I recognized you.

That's that old slag in the papers last week.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER ON TV) Yes, then there are these lovely recherché kilim slippers.

Lovely.

And chairs, I thought, might be quite interesting.

I've got a friend who's got a shop with some lovely chairs in it.

-Jocasta?

-Yes.

And she believes chairs are as important to civilization as a masterpiece.

Or something.

I wrote it down somewhere.

So we could print that up and do some lovely... photos.

(GROANING) (SIGHS) God, you'd think they'd send a doctor in by now, wouldn't you?

Huh?

I just might be dying here.

Wouldn't you, sweetie, huh?

Oi?

Darling?

Sweetie?

Visitor.

Visit, visit.

Ugh.

God, she's got two people with her.

Two.

Those aren't Patsy's friends, are they?

No, darling, they're from the magazine.

What's she having done?

Has she decided yet?

Must be hard to find a priority on a face like that.

Sweetie... She's having a little face peel and some eyelid rejuvenation, alright?

(SIGHS) Oh, God.

Don't you ever go off duty?

What do you want?

Oi.

More champagne.

-Oh.

Can mine be a buck's fizz?

-And some nibbles.

Is this your daughter?

Yes.

Well, maybe there's a God after all.

Mary!

Don't you dare.

Don't you dare.

Now look, I demand to see a doctor.

Mr. Simpson will be 'round in a minute.

Mr. Simpson.

Mr. Simpson.

I want a proper doctor in a white coat who's gonna take me seriously and give me some more painkillers now, alright?

-Right, Mrs., um... -Monsoon.

-I'll be operating on your, um... -Foot.

-Tomorrow morning.

-(SIGHS) Sweetie, hold my hand, darling, he could be the caretaker for all I know.

We could do this under local.

Not a very serious operation.

Be very quick.

Uh... uh... Local?

Local anesthetic?

Are you mad?

God, what is this, Eastern Europe?

You won't feel any pain.

(SIGHS) I might not be able to feel it, but I'll still be able to see it.

I'm not totally lacking in imagination, you know.

I want total sensory deprivation and backup drugs, alright?

Believe me, she's much happier unconscious.

-I'll see you tomorrow.

-Edina: Alright.

Nurse, I know I should see that lumpy breast woman now, but great friends of mine are having a drinks party.

(WHISPERING) Face lift.

Ah, it'll be a doddle.

Just grab her by the scalp, shake her up and down a bit and chop off the slack.

Tomorrow.

Oi, you.

Bitch nurse.

Don't you just keep me on the threshold of pain.

I want some more painkillers.

Look, I had two tiny little paraplegics or something in this cup over an hour ago.

And don't look at me like I'm mad, I know you've got Valium out there.

Have you tried this?

It's "a triple-acting alpha-hydroxy acid "natural complex to reactivate your skin, making you scientifically more beautiful."

Sounds good.

Hmm.

Dermatologist and ophthalmologist tested, nonallergen...

I don't know what this means, but it's forcing me to believe it.

Yes.

No, I think that's bloody rubbish, you know.

If you want a face peel, you want the full-strength sulfuric acid skin-stripper.

It's the total beauty experience.

Gnarled old oak trees have been wheeled into this hospital and gone out as saplings.

Look, it says in the brochure.

Breast enhancements, oh.

That's an operation.

Of course it's an operation.

Oh.

I thought it was just something to do with good lighting.

All this fuss they're making about implants these days.

Breasts have been blown out of all proportion.

I mean, who wouldn't put up with a not-entirely-unpleasant trickling sensation and a slight crystallization around the lower abdomen for that amount of cleavage, huh?

(CHUCKLES) -Oh, Magda.

-Hello, Pats.

How are ya?

Unlucky business with the MP.

Still, the HELLO!

thing should sort all that out.

Right, I better make this quick, I've got a lingerie opening and a feminine wash launch to get to by 6:00.

And all this with my extended working champagne lunch with Anouska bloody Hempel floating about here.

Right, this month I want articles about how lovely spending money is.

Expensive things are better, cosmetics are great.

I want money, money, money, spend, spend, spend.

I don't wanna see anymore photos of gormless skeletons with no brains, no makeup and no bloody --.

Promoting bored teenagers won't sell a Chanel suit.

-Nah, they're too thin.

-Too young.

Hmm.

If the models get any younger, Pats, they'll be chucking fetuses down the catwalk.

Right.

Right, we need new photos of everyone, staff, editors and writers to go at the front of the magazine.

Stupid bloody idea, but everybody's doing it.

Well, I'll get the HELLO!

chap to do a head and shoulders of me.

Good.

I blame the papers, myself.

They've started the trend.

Journos with egos.

Oh, I don't like 'em.

I mean, it's bad enough having to read most of the crap that's written without having to look at a photo of the bastard that wrote it.

Right, these are the shots I had done, I don't care what I look like, it's the attitude.

Oh, Magda, who did these?

Bailey, O'Neill and Lichfield, no crap.

It seems a pity to use just the one.

Couldn't we make a feature, "Our editor"?

Yes.

And then we could use all these lovely, um, photos.

And then each week do the same with all of us.

Yes.

Chairs.

Chairs might be nice.

-Are you going?

-Yes.

Home?

No, I'm going to the party at the halls.

Oh.

So you won't be here when I come 'round, then?

For the first time in my life, no.

Oh.

Look...

It's just for the room-warming.

Look, Mum, just don't be happy or pleased or anything.

Darling.

Low alcohol... (SIGHS, SNARLS) (SIGHS) Oh, God.

-You alright, Pats?

-Yeah, darling.

You?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Not nervous, are you, darling?

No, not a bit.

I can't wait.

The day after tomorrow, my life begins again.

Goodbye, ageing obscurity and HELLO!

magazine.

(SIGHS) It'll take more than two of those to knock... Did you take the pre-med?

She took everything we had.

-Oh.

-(MOUTHING) Oh, good.

-Come on.

-Edina: No, no.

-Don't be...Don't be silly.

-(OVERLAPPING CHATTER) -Don't be silly.

-Edina: I want them.

Doctor: Now, count to ten, slowly.

Edina: One... -Doctor: She's gone.

-Nurse: Praise the Lord.

(HEART THUMPING) Ah.

Edina, my dear.

You're awake.

It's sad news, I'm afraid.

The doctors say there is nothing they can do.

Brains is working on the formula, but he may not have enough time.

I'm very sorry.

Your friends and family are here.

(THUMPING CONTINUES) Patsy.

You're Mandy Rice-Davies.

Where's-where's Patsy?

No, sweetie, it's Patsy.

This is a dream.

-Edina: How do I look, Pats?

-Wonderful.

You never seem to age.

I've always been jealous of that.

(SIGHS) It's just bone structure, Pats.

My whole body just hangs off these cheekbones.

(VOICE BREAKING) Don't die, Eddy.

You're my touchstone, Eddy.

I think I should see my family now.

(THUMPING CONTINUES) Saff?

Saffy, darling.

-Sweetie, you wore the Lacroix.

-Yeah.

Yeah.

I'll always wear my Lacroix from now on when I'm in town, Ma.

Yeah, and I've decided not to go to university.

Edina: Oh, good.

I'll gonna bum around Europe, experimenting with drugs, wearing flared denim for as long as it's fashionable.

And then take a flat in Paris.

Just be a famous artist.

Edina: Yes, darling.

And people will know that I owe it all to you.

Thank you, darling.

I know we've had our little ups and downs, sweetie, but I had always... sort of love you, you know.

Is your father here, sweetie, is-is Justin here?

Papa's just here, Mama.

Edina: Justin... You can't die, you wonderful woman, you.

I won't let you.

-Tell me you're not gay.

-Justin: No, I'm not.

I used that as an excuse.

When we split up, I knew I'd never find another woman that could take your place.

I didn't want another woman.

I shall, of course, be sending a letter to this effect to all those bitch friends of yours who said, "I told you so."

And it will be in print, in the obituary in The Times, which they will print by mistake because I'm sure you're gonna pull through.

(EDINA SIGHS) Is my son here?

Is Serge here, my, my pride and joy?

Ma, he's taking weather readings in the Arctic.

Yes, I faxed the North Pole.

(LAUGHTER) (CHOKING, COUGHING) Oh, my God.

Where are the nurses?

Somebody must be doing something!

Hi, honey.

The doctors tried to stop me but I said, "You give that chick anything she needs."

I'm from Detroit and I don't mess around.

Now, what do you need, sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll?

Rock 'n' roll.

(PLAYING BASS NOTES OF CAN THE CAN) ♪ So make a stand for your man, honey ♪ ♪ Try to can the can ♪ ♪ Put your man in the can, honey ♪ ♪ Get him while you can ♪ Your mother is here.

Yes, Mummy's here, Eddy.

What's she doing here?

Ugh.

I was just passing, dear.

Goodness, you're looking young.

You hardly seem to have changed since you were a little girl.

You're not looking so bad yourself.

In fact, I thought you'd be a lot older.

It's my bone structure, dear.

Your whole body hangs off my cheekbones.

Saffy: Don't give up, please!

-♪ Come alive ♪ -♪ Yeah ♪ -♪ Come alive ♪ -♪ Yeah ♪ ♪ Down in Devil Gate Drive ♪ -♪ So come alive ♪ -♪ Yeah ♪ -♪ So come alive ♪ -♪ Yeah ♪ ♪ Down in Devil Gate, Down in Devil Gate... ♪ Get off, get off, get off, get off, off.

(MOANING) (GASPS) Mrs. Monsoon, how are you feeling?

(SIGHS) Oh, God.

What are you doing here?

Oh, I was visiting someone from my bridge club, dear.

Just down the corridor.

So I thought as I was passing I might -as well just look in.

-My foot, my foot.

I must see the scar.

Is that it?

-Huh?

-Yes.

Wasn't very much in the end.

Not even a toenail, in fact.

Well, what then?

Well, we, uh, we removed this.

It's an acupuncture needle.

Must have worked its way down.

But I've only ever had cranial acupuncture.

God.

How many organs has it harpooned on its way down there?

I've become a needle dumping ground.

Well, put a bandage on it at least, you.

God, where's Patsy?

(SIGHS) How fantastic.

Antonia: At her tasteful London home, which she decorated herself, I met the lovely, internationally renowned fashion editor, Patsy Stone.

Patsy: I love to collect things.

There's nothing I like better than shopping for knickknacks.

Antonia: Patsy nibbled a humble salad and sipped an Evian water.

Patsy: I like to maintain a healthy lifestyle.

Antonia: It's hard to believe that Patsy is 39 years old.

-She looks so young.

-Patsy: Thank you.

-Antonia: So young.

-Patsy: Thanks.

Antonia (ECHOING): Young... Wake up, Miss Stone.

The operation is over.

A complete success.

I'll just pop in to see poor old Patsy, dear.

I think I heard them wheel her back in.

Patsy?

It's only me.

May I come in?

Go in, Mrs. M. I think you're in for a very pleasant surprise.

(GASPING) (MOUTHS) Mrs. M?

(SCREAMS) -Sweetie!

-Oh, no!

Oh, God!

Oh, no!

(CLAMORING) Oh, Eddy!

Eddy!

Eddy!

Eddy!

-Get the doctor!

-Don't leave her here!

NHS!

NHS!

NHS!

(CLOSING THEME PLAYING) Never mind, darling.

(SIGHS) Heigh-ho, huh?

You're not crying, are you, darling?

No, sweetie, it's just this little wound under my eye won't heal.

(VOICE BREAKING) Little wound this side won't heal either.

(CRYING) Eddy!

(THEME MUSIC CONTINUES)