The Last of the Blonde Bombshells

[Betty the Bandleader has just reminded the band that there's to be no drinking on stage to which the alcoholic Dinah replies:
]

Dinah:
Sorry, babe, this is not negotiable. Drunk I can't play a note, sober I can't play a note but there's a part in the middle where I play like a goddamn angel.

[Elizabeth's children have found out that she's busking on the streets]

Edward:
Doesn't it strike you that what you're doing is a bit... well... degrading?

Elizabeth:
Well you try it. Last week we had a request from a tourist for the Japanese national anthem. That's unique that is. So we gave him 'One fine day' from Madame Butterfly and a joke about Pearl Harbor.

Elizabeth:
You live here?

Patrick:
Yes, it's what they call a "grace and favour" residence. My father had the grace to die and did me the favour of leaving it to me.

Patrick:
What are you collecting for?

Annie:
[who is a member of the Salvation Army] The poor, the sick and the dispossessed. You don't qualify.

[Elizabeth's granddaughter, Joanna, is listening to an early rehearsal of the reunited Blonde Bombshells]

Joanna:
I can see why the Germans bombed you.

Elizabeth:
I hate those stories that begin with a funeral, but I'm afraid this one begins the day we buried George. Not that we buried him. In the interests of the environment we had him incinerated.

Elizabeth:
What do you know about the war? The 1939-45 one?

Joanna:
We beat Germany one nil?

Evelyn:
Any news on Gwen?

Dinah:
If she doesn't show, we'll kill her. You'll see to it, right babe?

Betty:
There's a fellow comes in the bar, he's in that line of work.

Elizabeth:
Oh shut your face. Go to Scotland and come back with a trumpet player.

[Patrick enters the pub carrying a huge bunch of flowers]

Elizabeth:
Here's my lift.

Patricia:
Mum! Who's he?

Elizabeth:
My fancy man.

[At the crematorium, according to the late George's wishes the song 'Magic Moments' is played]

Patricia:
Are you alright?

Elizabeth:
As well as can be expected.

Patricia:
If you want to cry, go ahead.

Elizabeth:
I just hate this f***ing tune.

Dinah:
I married well, and frequently.

Elizabeth:
Our sole purpose is to get the band back together.

Gwen:
You got a gig?

Patrick:
Posters go up next month.

Gwen:
What is it?

Elizabeth:
Well, it's my granddaughter's school dance.

Gwen:
A school dance? I never played school dances even when I was at school.

Gwen:
I have sung for my supper for half a lifetime, and I've done it all without rehearsal.

Joanna:
So you were the only man in the band?

Patrick:
Just me and all those chicks.

Elizabeth:
Oh do you mind? I'm not and never have been a chick.

Joanna:
How did you get the job?

Patrick:
Well, they couldn't find a girl who played the drums. I had a quiet word with Betty the Bandleader, two pairs of nylon stockings and the job was mine.

Elizabeth:
Also he was on the run.

Patrick:
Also I was on the run.

Patrick:
How did you get here?

Elizabeth:
Overnight sleeper. Central heating and a roof.

Patrick:
Does that mean I'm forgiven?

Elizabeth:
Absolutely not. But we need a trumpet player and I couldn't trust you to deliver one. I wouldn't trust you to deliver a bottle of milk.

Elizabeth:
Joanna, I need your advice.

Joanna:
I'll try...

Elizabeth:
What's the best way to show respect for the dead?

Joanna:
That's easy... you go on living.

Elizabeth:
I remember playing in the Metropole Ballroom. Mares eat oats and does eat oats. And knowing that at any moment a large bomb could fall on my head and blow us all to hell and back.