She peeped out to see Eric in costume with his guitar in
place, as he sang a few bars of Jerusalem, singing "and did those
teeth"
instead of how it was supposed to go, then spoke, introducing the skit.
The next bit was Johnny and Gray in the art gallery nattering on,
Johnny being Janet and Gray being Marge.
Janet: 'Allo, Marge!
Marge:
Oh hello, Janet, how are you love?
Janet:
Fancy seeing you! How's little Ralph?
Marge:
Oh, don't ask me! He's been nothing but trouble all morning. Stop it
Ralph! (she slaps at unseen infant) Stop it!
Janet:
Same as my Kevin.
Marge:
Really?
Janet:
Nothing but trouble ... leave it alone! He's just been in the
Florentine Room and smeared tomato ketchup all over Raphael's Baby
Jesus. (shouting off sharply) Put that Baroque masterpiece
down!
Marge:
Well, we've just come from the Courtauld and Ralph smashed every
exhibit but one in the Danish Contemporary Sculpture Exhibition.
Janet:
Just like my Kevin. Show him an exhibition of early eighteenth-century
Dresden Pottery and he goes berserk. No, I said no, and I meant no! (smacks
unseen infant again)
This morning we were viewing the early Flemish Masters of the
Renaissance and Mannerist Schools, when he gets out his black aerosol
and squirts Vermeer's Lady At A Window!
Marge:
Still it's not as bad as spitting is it?
Janet:
(firmly) No, well Kevin knows (slaps the infant) that if
he spits at a painting I'll never take him to all exhibition again.
Marge:
Ralph used to spit - he could hit a Van Gogh at thirty yards. But he
knows now it's wrong - don't you Ralph? (she looks down) Ralph!
Stop it Stop it Stop chewing that Turner! You are ... (she
disappears from shot) You are a naughty, naughty, vicious little
boy. (smack; she comes back into shot holding a copy of Turner's
Fighting Temeraire in a lovely gilt frame but all tattered) Oh,
look at that! The Fighting Temeraire - ruined! What shall I do?
Janet:
(taking control) Now don't do a thing with it love, just put it
in the bin over there.
Marge:
Really?
Janet:
Yes take my word for it, Marge. Kevin's eaten most of the early
nineteenth-century British landscape artists, and I've learnt not to
worry. As a matter of fact, I feel a bit peckish myself. (she
breaks a bit off the Turner) Yes...
(Marge
also tastes a bit.)
Marge:
I never used to like Turner.
Janet:
(swallowing) No ... I don't know much about art, but I know what
I like.
Julia
snickered to herself, remembering Gray snickering at how funny it would
be to eat the painting, which wasn't a real painting at all just a
great big cookie to look like one.
She saw Mike's bit coming up next, so Julia prepared herself,
costume all set, water pitcher in hand. TJ motioned her on, and she
walked on to the part of the set where Mike was, setting the pitcher
down.
"Watteau,
dear?" she said.
"What a terrible joke," said Mike, real venom in his voice.
"But it's my only line," said Julia, eyes huge.
He got up, seeming as if he'd wanted to rip her to shreds, then said;
"All right! All right! But you didn't have to say it! You could have
kept quiet for a change."
Julia let her low lip tremble, tears pricking at her eyes.
"Oh, that's typical," raged Mike. " Talk, talk, talk. Natter, natter,
natter!"
Julia backed away, running off camera. She
scurried to Carol, who handed her the dress she was to wear, and
whispered; "Quick switch, girl, Eric's going on, then your snogging
bit."
"Oh! Right!"
She
ducked into a dressing room, slipping off her costume, sliding on the
black dress, taking her hair down, then scurrying back to her mark to
go on.
She
listened as Eric sang; "Bring me my arrows of desire ... Bring me my
spear oh clouds unfold ... Bring me my chariot of fire..."
Look out darling, here I come, she thought.
The camera switched to Gray as the Colonel for only a second.
As Eric sang, Carol motioned for her to go, and Julia appeared on
camera behind him, coming around to Eric's left. He glanced up to see
her, eyes widening, as she snuggled down beside of him, and began
nuzzling his neck.
"Well,
now we'd like to alter the mood a little, " he said, Julia felt him
tremble. "We'd like to bring you something for Mum and Dad, Annie and
Roger, Mazaran and Louie and all of Versailles, it's a little number,
called England's Mountain's Green. Hope you like it."
Julia'd
been pulling at the buttons of the white shirt Eric was wearing,
meanwhile, and almost felt like a different person, touching him,
kissing on him.
She
felt his heart beating really really fast, almost as fast as her own,
as he restarted the song one last time, and she went in for the kill on
the left side of his neck.
Got
close, really really close, and when he got near the end, she slowly
slid her tongue about a couple of inches across his neck, Eric
trembling underneath her.
Got you now love... she thought.
When the cameras and focus were off them, he reached for her face,
kissing her deeply.
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