All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather S10E02 1080p WEB DL H264 BTN_track3_[eng]

# What'll I do

# When you

# Are far away

# And I am blue?

# What'll I do?

# When I'm alone

# With only dreams of you

# That won't come true

# What'll I do? #

(PHONE RINGS)

(RINGING CONTINUES)

Yeah? No, it ain't Tracey, it's her
sister.

Yep, fire away.

You what?

You dirty toerag.

(DISTANT DOOR SLAMS)
Yeah, I will tell her.

And then I'll tell the old bill. You
were sitting there three hours ago.

And you'd better not call back, you
slimeball.

Who was that? Some sleazebag

going on about how much he'll pay you

if you service his massive pump.

Nerve of the perv. Eugh.

That's Mr Bolland, my best customer.

Bolland? I thought he said Bell-

Sharon.

I told you I'm doing telesales.

Yeah, I know. But I didn't know it
was phone sex.

Why don't you ever listen? It's a
plumbing supplies company.

One of us has got to earn a living.
I've got a job.

I thought you weren't going back to
World of Quid.

I mean waiting on Dorien hand and
foot.

For no money. What do you mean no
money? She's bunging us 500 a week.

No, she's bunging you 500 a week.

I'm just her unpaid slave.

In fact, you are infringing my human
rights.

I could take you to a tribunial.

Well, before you do that you can
take yourself down the shop.

I forgot Dorien's Ivory Soap Flakes.

What about my coffee? You ain't got
time for that.

I'll go on strike. No-one'd notice.

Er, may I look at this one, please?

Oh.

It's £1,500.

We do have a few more affordable
items at the back of the shop.

Allow me to explain.

I am an internationally-acclaimed
bestselling author. You work in a
shop.

I have accounts on 5th Avenue, Bond
Street and the Avenue Montaigne.

You've obviously been dressed by
George of Asda.

While I would warn you appearances
can be deceptive,

you are exactly the snot-nosed Essex
princess

I suspected you were when I came in.

Door.

Hmph.

Oi!

What were you doing in Chigwell's
ponciest bag shop?

They charge you a hundred quid just
to look down their noses at you.

I'll go in there now and again, just
to frighten the life out of them

But you, lady, are on a strict
budget.

Until your copyright contract
thingy's been sorted out.

I am painfully aware of that,
Sharon.

How the flighty have fallen.

Nothing wrong with a bit of Primarni
though. What'd you get?

Do you mind? Taxi!

Oi! You can't waste dosh on a cab.

We'll get a bus. I have not been on a
bus since I left

the Barbra Streisand High School for
go-getting Jewish girls.

Well, it's time you got reacquainted
then.

We'll go to the newsagent, get you an
Oyster.

Newsagents sell seafood now?

You have no idea, have you?

Tracey, I need to speak to you now.

What's so bleedin' urgent? One of my
breakfast eggs was too runny

and the other was hard. How does she
do that?

It weren't easy.

I'll mention it to my staff. Sharon,
sort it.

Now, leave me alone. I've got work
to do.

That lingerie is pure Italian silk.

You are washing it with Ivory Soap
Flakes, as I asked. Of course.

Cillit Bang?

It was the closest I could get.

I should never have trusted my
delicates to Chigwell's answer to
Edward Scissorhands.

Right, rinse them out, hang them up,

attend to my ironing and then come
and clean my en suite.

You're having a laugh, in't you?
Listen, lady -

When I agreed to pay Tracey a
handsome rent to stay here instead
of a hotel

she promised me civility and
service.

Does what you're about to say fit in
with that?

Thought not.

And that includes hand gestures.

Anyone seen my order book?

I'm going to swing for her, Trace.

She's only got me handwashing her
pants.

At least she's wearing 'em now.
She's taking liberties.

She's got me fetching, ironing,
cleaning - Tough.

She's paying our rent. End of. Let
me get on with my telesales.

I'm warning you. If she calls me from
the toilet and asks me to wipe her...
Sharon.

..you'll be the one pulling her face
out of the U-bend.

MAN: Go on.

Go on! No!

Aww! Hooray!

You all right, Mum? Yeah, fine.

It's a lovely day. Why don't you
take Poppy to Legoland or something?

Nanny Tracey would take you but
she's too busy working.

Thing is, Mum, we're broke. Maybe
you should think about getting a
job.

I'm getting my massage business up
and running.

I've registered with a catering
agency. Once word gets round I'll be
swamped.

I've got an idea. Why don't I cook
us all my speciality for lunch?

Oh, yum! Have you got any smoked pig
cheeks?

Oh, no, what a shame. Sharon just
used the last of it in a fry-up.

I'll make beans on toast after I've
finished these calls. Thanks, Mum.

Er, Trace. Are these supposed to be
crotchless?

Or have I been rubbing too hard?

Ow. Ow!

Oww!

Where did you learn to massage,
Guantanamo Bay?

Don't expect a repeat booking.

Shame. I do a discount for OAPs.

That bathroom is spotless.

You can see your face in that bidet.
Or anything else you might want to
look at.

And why have you got four different
types of make-up remover?

I just rub my face in the pillow.

This house is like Piccadilly Circus
in the rush hour. Tell me about it.

And would somebody please have a
word with Poppy?

There was a pair of skates outside
my door. If I had tripped on them I
could have broken my neck.

It weren't Poppy who left them there.

Thing is, Dor, I'm not really
earning and the bills are stacking
up.

Spare me the domestic drama. Would
you like an advance on your rent?

Please. If you could get them to
transfer it now.

No offence, I love having you all
here. It's just - I get it, Tracey.
It's fine.

Yes, hello. Dorien Green.

Date of birth? 1876.

Is she paying you for her massage?
Damn straight she is.

Bet she tries to rook me though. She
moaned all the way through it.

Said it was like being manhandled by
the Turkish wrestling squad.

And she'd know.

It wasn't no walk in the park for
me. She's all skin and gristle.

It's like putting your hands on a
half-starved chicken.

But that can't be right.

Let me speak to someone in authority
immediately.

There must be more than that in
there.

What about my other account?

FoxyCohen1, brackets, Handbags and
Frocks, close brackets.

Oh, I see.

(LAUGHS WEAKLY)

Did they transfer the money OK? Not
yet. Computer glitch.

So why has all the colour drained
from your face?

Maybe one of her facelifts is
leaking.

They're just saying that there isn't
as much in there as I thought.

But it's wrong. You're skint, ain't
you?

No, I'm not. It's a mistake.

Let's all go out for lunch. My
treat. She's in denial.

Shall I slap her? That's if
someone's hysterical. You say
tomato... No!

You said you'd pay me £500 a week.

I thought I could. It turns out my
solicitor's keeping it all as a
retainer.

That's left me right up the creek.
How am I supposed to pay the bills?

Let me slap her, Trace. No.

What is going to become of me?

Oh, my God. I'll have to go on
benefits.

Huh. You'll be out of luck, love.

The golden years have gone. You've
got to have half a lung and 14
dependents

before you can even get a milk token
now.

We kept telling you not to spend but
you carried on buying new clothes.

Well, it's only Primark. I don't
know what you bought in there but it
weren't this.

Stella bleedin' McCartney.

Oh, my God, how many clothes have
you got?

Unbelievable.

Designer.

Slapper.

How many black skirts do you need?

You ain't going to be kitting out the
army wives choir.

It's a compulsion.

Nice things validate me. I'll
validate you in a minute.

If you can't afford it then you're
not staying here.

No, please, Tracey, don't throw me
out. Sharon, get the bin bags.

Oh, cheer up, Dor.

You've got a face like Wayne Rooney
chewing a thistle.

There must be another way. We can't
sell all my beautiful clothes.

Have you found a couple of grand in
your knickers?

Of course I haven't. Then they're
going.

Where exactly are we headed?

Chelsea? Camden Market?

Haven't you told her?

Told me what?

Here we go. No!

Here, look at that.

What's happening? Dealers.

They're trying to get their hands on
your goods.

Been a long time since anyone said
that.

Get away. Get away.

Get away.

Get away.

Arghhh!

Grab 'em while you can, girls. This
is a one-off liquidation sale.

Due to a very old concern facing
financial ruin.

That's a Donna Karan exclusive. Have
you washed your hands?

Excuse me? He's an ex-drag queen.

He's flogging all his gear and
finding it hard to let go.

How much is this? £250.

40 quid. And I'll throw in a scarf.

That's from Liberty's. I suppose I
could put that on my dog.

You have no idea how appropriate that
is.

Thanks, lovely, cheers. These people
are philistines.

They wouldn't know class if it
crawled in their ear and shouted
Chanel.

Would these suit me? No, you'd look
like a pig in ballet pumps. Put them
down.

Stop putting the punters off or I'll
lock you in the car.

They're not having my Stella
McCartney. If you don't want to end
up

in Boots doorway wrapped in
cardboard, sit down and shut your
gob.

Mum, it's that sort off TOWIE.

She's not a 'sort', she's a girl.

Here, Shal, it's that sort off
TOWIE. Oh, yeah!

Excuse me, you're er...you're you,
in't you?

Yeah, but keep it quiet. I'm trying
to keep a low profile.

Yeah, yeah, course. But you're
blending right in.

I really love these D&G knock-offs.

How dare you? They are genuine and
original.

Yeah, course they are, babe(!)

Oh, my God. I love those shoes.

What, these? No.

These? No.

Those. No!

These are my favourite Manolo
Blahnik's.

Hold her down, Trace.

All my lovely clothes...gone.

Look on the bright side. You got a
new pair of trainers out of it.

Well, they're new to you, anyway.

I'll tell you what did go like
hotcakes, your Herpes handbags.

Hermes.

Whatever. So, how much did we make?

Nearly £1,287.

Ooh. We'd have made double that if
we'd sold them through a specialist
outlet.

I ain't got time for that. I've got
bills to pay.

Right, I've worked out that you owe
me £1,150

which means that I owe you £136.90.

There you go.

Give me that.

I'll tell you what, Dor. When it gets
dark

you get a different sort of bloke who
comes here with his car.

You come back then and you could
double that.

All right, Dor? Fine.

Do you want a cup of tea? Yeah, that
would be lovely.

That'll be £1.50.

You don't want to run up debts you
can't pay for.

Only joking, Dor.

I'll put the kettle on, eh? I am so
glad my mother isn't here to see me
like this.

Be upset, would she? No, she'd be
delighted.

She always said I'd end up with
nothing and she just loved being
right.

Well, if you're looking down,
Mother,

or more likely up, congratulations.

Cheer up, Dor.

You just have to get yourself into a
different mindset.

Say goodbye Dolce & Gabbana

and hello shoplifting.

I know you mean well, Sharon, but
you really have no idea how I feel.

My wardrobe has been so severely
decimated

that I'm reduced to wearing last
season's Donna Karan

with a Dior skirt circa 2010.

Oh, poor you.

And tomorrow's headline will say,

'Pensioner found strangled with her
own Gucci belt.

And not this year's Gucci belt.'

Garth, Marcie, lounge, now.

What's going on? I'm putting my foot
down. Sit.

You are all living in my house and
I'm the only one with a job.

While it's very nice having you
here, I ain't a branch of Help the
Homeless.

So you all need to get out and get
some money.

Well, I've got £130 from the car
boot sale.

You owe me for that massage. I'm
earning, Trace. And Garth's got a
job.

Jamie Oliver got in touch? Not
exactly.

The French one on the corner?
Raymond Le Roux? Michel Le Blanc.

No, Seedy McCrusty's. You know, that
sandwich chain.

It's temporary, all right? Just till
word gets round.

Oh, never mind, love. From little
acorns big mountains do grow.

Well done. Right, that just leaves
you two.

I suppose I could always go back to
World of Quid.

I thought you'd chucked it in. Well,
I haven't left officially.

They probably just think I'm round
the back having a crafty fag.

Anyway, I'm writing my new book.
That'll take ages to come out and be
a load of codswallop when it does.

Never become a literary agent,
Tracey.

I'm talking about a proper job. For
me, what?

Let's think about what qualities
you've got. You're manipulative.

You're selfish. You're cunning.
Maybe something in public
relations.

You've never done a proper day's
work.

There's only place that'd employ
you.

Welcome to World of Quid.

Harrods for poor people.

Sharon.

Best not make eye contact with the
punters, Dor.

They're all a bit rough.

Most mornings even I feel like Pippa
Middleton.

Mind you, you want to see the rubbish
they get through the doors at 99p
Heaven.

What's that?

That's Winnie. She pops in for a
cuppa since the council closed down
the day centre.

Obviously we don't have a dress code.

Eugh, this is a nightmare.

No, Dor, this is the real world.

Your Kirsty Allsopp, artisan bread,

Harvey Nicks lifestyle - that's the
illusion.

It's not a world I want to stay in
for a second longer.

Sorry, I don't want to work here.

No-one does. But, like you, we don't
have an option.

The general manager's waiting in the
office.

Word of warning. Flashing your gusset
at him won't do you no favours.

He's married, to a dentist...called
Cyril.

Go on.

You don't want one of them.

A woman brought one back yesterday.

She said when she lit it it went up
like a Roman candle.

Took her eyebrows off. Shouldn't you
take them off the shelf?

I just work here.

How long will this interview take? I
need to know if she's earning

so I know if I can go to Lidl or
Waitrose.

I really hope she gets it.

Then she'll be the newbie.

It'll be my chance to make her life a
misery for a change.

Don't you think she knows that?
She'll nause it up on purpose.

Well, if she does you chuck her out
of the en suite, right? Definitely.

What you grinning at? You're not
having it, I am.

You can share the boxroom with
Dorien.

Trace, I'd rather eat vegetables.

Here she comes and she's smiling,
which means she didn't get it.

Well? We got on like a house on
fire.

Apparently we went to the same
university.

50 years apart.

So you got the job then? No.

I knew it. When I told him about my
degree

he said I was far too overqualified.
Did you have to mention your
degree?

Couldn't you have made out you was a
penniless old codger desperate for a
job?

Oh, hang on a minute, that's the
truth, innit?

Oh, don't worry. Iceland are looking
for cleaners.

If I could finish.

We talked about my degree and the
two-year business studies course I
took in night school.

And he was very impressed by the
fact

that I have a detailed knowledge of
balance sheets and company accounts.

Have you? I was married for 27 years
to an accountant with erectile
dysfunction.

What else do you think we got up to
in bed?

I don't like how this is shaping up.
I bet you don't.

The bad news is your store manager

has been let go due to gross
incompetence.

Apparently hiring you was the last
straw.

The good news is...

they've offered his job to me.

But you turned it down, right?

You don't really want to work here,
remember?

Not as a till-operating,
shelf-stacking drone like you.

But as an executive

charged with whipping this store and
its staff into shape -

that's a challenge I couldn't
resist.

I'll hand in my notice. Oh, yeah? You
do and you can find somewhere else
to live.

So, Sharon, you can start by getting
rid of Winnie.

This isn't a branch of Age UK.

Then you can sweep up the garden
section.

Then you can clean out whatever it
is that's blocking up the staff
toilet.

It looks suspiciously like one of
yours.

(CHUCKLES) This is going to be such
fun.

Fair enough, Dor. And to welcome you
to World of Quid

I'd like to present you with this
scented candle.

Think of me when you light it.

(EXPLOSION)
DORIEN: Argh!

What was that noise?

I didn't hear anything.

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