Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, Series 1

Wayne:
[Calling out to Barry] Thanks a lot, mate. I owe you one. [Barry revs his bike and rides off. He's delivered some McDonald's.] Here we go, love. The perfect TV dinner. All we need now is a TV.

Tracy:
I didn't know they had McDonald's in Germany.

Wayne:
Oh, yeah. They're everywhere, love. Today Germany, tomorrow the vorld! Right, that's eine Große Mac mit French fries, courtesy of Barry the Radish and his delivery bike.

Tracy:
Ta. Er... I hope I didn't upset him, calling him that.

Wayne:
[Getting a beer] Nah, you're all right, love. He's used to a lot worse.

Tracy:
Don't I get one?

Wayne:
What would your dad say, eh?

Tracy:
"Get stuck in, girl", I should think!

Wayne:
[Gives her the beer he just opened] Go on, then. Just the one, though, eh? [Goes to his locker and gets another beer.]

Tracy:
[Divvying up the food] I expect you think I'm a right prat, going on about that hotel. I just didn't twig that you all actually lived in here.

Wayne:
Er... no. We find it a bit hard to believe ourselves, love. [Pulls up a chair and sits backwards on it]

Tracy:
That was my mum's fault, see. She told me dad was over here having a whale of a time.

Wayne:
Oh? Now you know different, don't you? I mean, we go out for the odd drink and the occasional meal an' that, but it's only so's we can get out of this place, though.

Tracy:
[By this point now reclining on Wayne's bed] I, er... suppose you see a lot of girls.

Wayne:
[Pauses] No, not really. Just three or four a week, you know. I reckon it's the earring and the accent they go for. Well, it can't be anything else, can it?

Tracy:
Oh, I dunno. I think you're very attractive.

Wayne:
Yeah? Huh... I don't think you should be talking to your babysitter like that, Tracy.

Tracy:
Don't you fancy me, then?

Wayne:
Yeah, course I do. Er... it just so happens you're the daughter of a much valued workmate, and I'm under oath, ain't I, apart from the threat of castration, to, er, behave myself?

Tracy:
Nobody would know though, would they?

Wayne:
Look, Tracy, can we drop this, love?

Tracy:
[Innocently] Drop what?

Wayne:
This, er, Lolita act. [Gets up and takes his chair away]

Tracy:
It's not an act!

Wayne:
Of course it is. [Takes his food off the bed and puts it on the table] I know when a bird's for real or not. And your life is straight out of Tracie or My Guy or whatever you call them teenage magazines. [Tracy stares down at her food] What I'm trying to say is, love, is that you're a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl. I mean, you're not a raver, you're not a heavy drinker, or a foul-mouthed slagette. [Turns away from her, frustrated] So why come on like one? Now just eat your chips!

Tracy:
[Sobbing] 'Cos it helps get me noticed! My mum's too busy with the other kids to listen to me, and my dad's never around! What am I supposed to do? Grow up by myself?

Wayne:
[Turns back towards Tracy] Look, Tracy, none of us is here to get away from our families, you know. ...Well, Oz is. And there's Dennis's problem to a certain extent. But not Bomber! [Goes to the bed and sits next to Tracy and comforts her] He's doing it all for you, sweetheart. And... you can make it all worthwhile, couldn't you, by making him feel proud of you?

Tracy:
I know. I don't really want to hurt him. He's a great bloke. I suppose I just want to be sure he still cares about me.

Wayne:
Yeah, all right. [Gets up off the bed.] I don't think there's much doubt about that.

Bomber:
[Rushes into the hut] Tracy!

Tracy:
Dad!

Bomber:
Are you all right, love? [They hug. Wayne puts his jacket on. his babysitting job done.]

Wayne:
[To Tracy] Hey, now you tell your dad exactly what you told me, eh? [To both] And I'll see you down the bar for a quick lemonade, all right?

Bomber:
Thanks, Wayne.

Wayne:
Any time. [Leaves the hut. Bomber and Tracy hug again.]