All language subtitles for goodnight_sweetheart_s02e10_dont_fence_me_in

Good night, sweetheart.

All my prayers are for you. Good night,

sweetheart. I'll be watching over you.

Tears and parting may make us alone.

But will the dawn a new day bring?

Is that you, Mrs Blot? I'm afraid I must
remain deaf to your blandishments.

No, my body is the temple of purity.

Even if you offer to reduce my rent...
Gary, it's me!

Oh.

Good morning. Oh, wasn't it... What's
wrong?

Oh, Gary.

This came this morning.

From Donald?

From the brewery. They want me out.

They say the tenancy agreement was with
Dad, and they've only been letting me

stay on pro tem. What does that mean,
Gary? Pro tem?

It's Latin. It means for the time being.

Well, what can't they blooming well say,
though? What am I going to do?

They've got a tenant lined up already,
apparently. He's been with the brewery

years. He just got bombed out. Even so,
they can't just fling you out. This is

they can.

And he's a man with a family. Maybe he's
more entitled.

What, more entitled than a woman whose
husband is incarcerated because he chose

to serve his queen?

Queen?

Oh, I mean, Kim.

Well, I mean, he's probably serving both
of them.

Well, I can hardly use Donald as an
excuse. Not the way things are now. It

wouldn't be right.

Well, no, but the Royal Oak's your pub.

You must write and tell them. Tell them
that place is your home. I can't.

I can't write.

Maybe you didn't realise.

Well, I mean, you can read. I assumed
you could write.

I mean, I don't know what words to use.

Oh, sorry. Well, OK, I'll write it.

Look, they're not going to throw you
out. Don't worry.

Well, you carry on. You sure you ain't
got a crystal ball?

Surely you'd have noticed.

I find it morally indefensible to evict
the orphan of a loyal tenant of the

brewery.

Especial.

Oh, bugger.

How was life, Steve?

Didn't hear you coming. What are you
doing?

Losing a wrestling match.

What's wrong with the computer? You
spent enough on it.

Well, yeah, but I saw this old
typewriter in a junk shop for a fiver

suddenly struck me.

Oh, that explains that you can cost.

No, what I mean is this used to be a
great manufacturing centre of the world.

What, Cricklewood?

No, Great Britain.

We made everything.

Cars, typewriters, sewing machines,
wirelesses, Meccano sets, everything.

And do you know what the lead story in
the papers was this morning? A Korean

company is opening in England because
our workers accept lower wages than the

ones in Seoul.

We're turning into a third world nation
and I'm making a spam.

You're making a mess.

And finally, building workers in the
East End today walked off site after a

ghostly figure suddenly materialised
from nowhere as they were excavating.

The workers claimed he was dressed in
World War II clothes, and when

responded by singing a chorus of
There'll be bluebirds over the white

nowhere before vanishing.

I hope you keep your spirits up tonight
too. Good evening.

You see, that's why we're turning into a
third world country, because building

workers will come up with any old excuse
to down through all of them and go up

to the boozer for the afternoon.

Well, you don't think there really could
have been a ghost? Oh, Gary, you're so

gullible. There's no such thing.

Oh, no, I just think we should keep an
open mind.

Oh, Gary.

Oh, Gary, that's like the brick duster.
You've got red dandruff.

Yeah, you would not believe the air
pollution in East Germany.

I do miss you, you know, when you go
away.

Oh, I miss you too.

But it's nice.

Gary! Because it's fun when I come home
again.

Oh, I'll go and get the dinner, Anne.
Yeah, all right.

Yvonne? Is that no new coat?

Yeah, new expensive coat.

Come on.

No, no, it's, um... It's nice.

Yes? Gary Compton.

Tower Hamlets Council Environmental
Safety Officer.

Now, I understand...

Been in the safety game long.

So what do you want?

To start with, I'm obliged to inspect
your toilet facilities.

We don't have any.

Yeah, that's what I was led to believe.

So what do your men do if they need to
relieve themselves?

They go up your office and take a dump
in your drawer. Any objection?

There's no need for that attitude.

I'm only trying to do my job.

Then you won't mind if I get on with
mine.

Who's who, then?

Ah, some officious pillock from the
council.

I don't know.

Oh, my God.

What? I just remember where I've seen
him before.

He's the bloody ghost.

You must use the force, Skywalker.

What's that, Red? Did you have a curry
last night?

What's the matter with him?

Well, as soon as his ear got better, he
developed this allergy to hamster.

Want a drink?

Yeah, love them.

Here, Phoebe, have you got a stamp? It's
just, uh, I've got my letter to the

brewery here, and it's red hot. It's
going to put the cat amongst the

can promise you. This is Banford. I'm a
busy man.

Sorry. Oh, Gary, this is George
Harrison.

No, isn't the hairs all wrong for a
stamp?

I beg your pardon?

Yes. Sorry, just a private joke.

Pleased to meet you, George.

What's your line of business?

Area manager for Hanbury Truman.

The brewery.

Oh, right. Well, I've got a letter here
for you.

And what brings you here, then, eh?

Can't wait to throw this poor girl out
on her ear?

Mr Spammo.

No, Sparrow.

I'm here because I'm concerned. I knew
Mrs Bamford's father personally, God

him. Eric and me were members of the
same lodge.

So when, unfortunately, my superior told
me how to put a new tenant in, well, I

came round to commiserate.

Yeah, you'd commiserate him when you
arrived.

There's got to be something you can do.

I mean, you must have another pub you
can put your bombed -out tenant into.

or two, but nothing like the Royal Oak.
And besides, it's against brewery policy

to give the tenancy to a woman. I mean,
the customers just don't like you. You

wouldn't say that if you knew the
rover's return.

All right.

I shall just have to appeal to your
superiors.

It won't do any good. I have complete
discretion in the running of my area.

Complete discretion as long as you don't
have to use your initiative, eh? That's

the ticket.

And is this the attitude that made this
country great?

Can you imagine Winston Churchill
evicting this trustworthy, hard -working

woman? Or the King? A man who has chosen
to stay in London and share the

privation of his subjects?

Why didn't you put any of this in your
letter?

Because the ribbon broke.

What you say has moved me, Mr Sparrow.

Sparrow.

Where do you find it, Mrs Bamford?

I know how hard it can be for a woman
alone.

My mother struggled to bring up seven
after her dad copped it in the Boer War.

But, Phoebe, you don't mind if I call
you Phoebe, do you?

No, of course not, Mr Harrison.

George, please.

You're only here on your own.

Oh, well, it can be sometimes.

My job's a bit on the lonesome side,
too.

Always on the road, sleeping in scruffy
hotels.

When I get home, it's not much better.

The war has played havoc on Mrs
Harrison's nerves, and on top of that,

she's got to the age where she's not
particularly interested in a healthy

married life.

That's my drift.

Of course, day after tomorrow, the old
helmet comes out again.

Back on duty at long last.

Back doing my bit to keep the home front
safe and secure whilst our brave lad

faced an implacable foe overseas.

Ah, so the year's finally better then,
eh?

Come again?

Looks like they might be sorting
something out after all.

I don't know.

I don't smell a rat, Reg.

Shouldn't do. I've fumigated and put
down bleach.

I think you'd better go.

I'll pop back on Wednesday afternoon.

You think it over, Phoebe. It could be a
mutually convenient arrangement.

Phoebe, what was all that about?

I don't want to talk about it, thank you
very much.

Phoebe? I'd leave her for a minute if I
was you, Pam.

But she's upset.

In my experience, when a woman's upset,
it's best to steer a wide bird for a

couple of hours.

Or weeks.

In your experience?

Excuse me, but aren't you the Reg
Deadman whose wife has romantically

soldiers, airmen and the merchant
mariners of all the friendly nations?

Not to mention the odd civilian.

Oh, just a word.

One eye, surgical boot. Did that stop
her?

But you don't want to hear my troubles.

No, I don't.

One day I will listen to your troubles,
Reg, I promise.

They make a great musical.

Don't tell me he tried it on.

He's got a nerve.

Do you know what he said?

He said this landlord over Silverton
doesn't even know about the Royal Oak

And if I play my cards right, there's no
reason why he should know.

OK, I'll write to the brewery. He'll be
out on his ears. It'll be my word

against his. He'll just deny it. It'll
be me out on the street.

No, don't worry.

Everything's... Gary!

Now, if you say it will be all right
just one more time, I shall hit you.

Look, you've got friends in high places,
contacts.

There must be something you can do.

Well, yeah.

Yeah, OK, don't worry. It'll be... Gary.

It'll be sorted out.

Come on in. What are you scared of?
Nothing worth nicking, is there?

I got a compressor.

It's a lot of use.

Oh, your bottle's gone.

I ain't scared of no ghost. I ain't
scared of no ghost.

Good evening.

to them? Oh, Yvonne, you were right the
other night. There's no such thing as

ghosts. Oh, I don't know. I like to
think I've got an open mind.

And what about those four kids they
interviewed?

Probably on glue.

Yeah, but they all gave the same
description.

They were sticking together.

Christmas cracker companies pay good
money for jokes like that, you know.

Sometimes as much as three pence.

So if you could sell, what, 5 ,000
jokes, you could replace that new jacket

ruined. Dry cleaners couldn't get the
ink off me. No, but for a tenner,

dye it black.

Hello. Yes, that's right.

Um, who shall I say is calling?

Mary Cunningham.

Uh, no, I'm sorry. She just popped out
to her phobia workshop.

Yeah, all right. Calm down.

Who is she, then? She's hysterical. Oh,
she's just some silly typist from the

office who's convinced Duncan Granger
from accounts of sexually harassing her.

Well, couldn't he be?

Well, he doesn't need to harass anyone.
He's drop -dead gorgeous.

Even I keep adding my expenses up wrong
and I hope he'll come and sit on my desk

for half an hour.

You know, even through his shapeless
Armani trousers, you can see he's got

thighs like Michelangelo or David.

Yeah, all right, all right.

No,

I'm sorry, she's gone. Can I take a
message?

Yeah.

Yeah, let me just make a note of this.

You're convinced that Mr Granger is
parked outside your flat watching you

and no one ever believes you.

You don't know which way to turn, and if
it goes on any longer, you're going to

take an overdose.

Come here.

Mary. No, of course I'm not phobic. You
don't want to listen to Gary. He's an

idiot. Oh, thank you. Bye.

Mary, I do believe you're very
distressed.

Look, if you say it's parked outside, of
course I believe you.

Why don't you come and see me first
thing in the morning?

I'll be there for you, Mary, I promise.

You are not alone.

No, I'm not referring to Mr Granger.

Now, promise you won't do anything
stupid.

everything's going to be all right, OK?

What did she say to convince you?

Oh, I don't believe her. She's barking.
I'm just humouring her.

I mean, why should someone like Duncan
bother with some mousy little typist

a squint?

What a sexist reaction.

I beg your pardon?

Well, just because this Duncan is a
hunk, you can't believe he could also be

sex pest.

And harassment isn't a sexual thing,
anyway. It's to do with power, with

terrorising the weak. You take it from
me.

And why should I... take it from you. I
am a trained personnel manager.

You're a former television repairman
scratching a living selling glossy

brochures. Oh, and I'm sure the
difference in our status will be a great

to you at the coroner's hearing.

What do you want me to do?

Oh, I don't know. I'm only a former
television repairman.

What, you really think she could be
telling the truth?

I suppose we could wire her up.

That's a bit drastic, isn't it?

It's not her fault, after all.

Narnie, plant a little tape recorder on
her.

So when he harasses her again, it can
play a loop that says, not tonight, I've

got a headache.

If he really tries it on, we've got some
hard evidence.

Yvonne, that is a brilliant idea. You
are amazing.

Outstanding. Why are you so happy?

No reason.

Oh, well, there's nothing else for it.

I don't know. I'm going to tell Gary,
though.

You're not giving in to Harrison's vile
demands.

No, of course not, Reg. I mean, joining
up, becoming a wife or something. At

least I'll get my bed and board taken
care of.

Hello? Worry not. Gary is here.

Gary, I've reached a decision.

I'm going to join up.

Join up what?

Reggie's mouth to his brain?

Reggie!

See?

I'm trying to be serious, Gary. What
else can I do?

Well? You could visit tomorrow's world
today.

Beg your pardon?

What's that?

A tape recorder.

Well, none the wiser.

Well, it's the latest secret American
technology.

Say something.

Eh? What do you mean, say something?
What do you want me to say?

Eh? What do you mean, say something?
What do you want me to say?

Oh, gods and little fishes.

Can I see that? Yeah, be careful.

American? It says here, made in Japan.

Well, yeah, I mean, that shows how
secret it is.

But the name is the giveaway if you can
break the code.

Sonny, see?

Stands for somewhere outside New York.

Very clever.

Very clever.

So when's lover boy Harrison coming in?

Any moment now. He said Wednesday
afternoon.

Does he know that Reg is in the police
force? No, he's only ever seen me in

Mufti. How could he guess?

Yeah, that's true. No -one would ever
guess.

Even in uniform, it's a bit touch and
go.

Here he comes now.

Look, play along with him. We'll have
every word on tape. OK.

Afternoon, Phoebe.

I must say, you're looking as debonair
as ever.

So, you've had time to sleep on my
suggestion.

I only wish I could have slept on it
with you.

Oh, you saw Spock's Mr Harrison.

George, please, I told you.

Well?

Well, of course, you're a...

A very attractive man, George. Thank
you, my dear.

And it is true it can get terribly
lonely for a girl on her own, but what

exactly is it you're suggesting?

Well, I thought I made myself clear.

Well, not really.

All you said was Mrs Harrison wasn't
interested in bedroom things. Now, for

I know, you could be asking my advice
about hard -to -dance bolsters.

Oh, you little tease.

I see we're going to get over this
famously.

Right, cards on the table.

I'll bring my pyjamas and shaving things
for popping two or three nights a week.

Obviously, I'll chip in with some
rations for breakfast.

Oh, see?

I've completely got the wrong end of the
stick.

You want to rent a room?

Don't. You know what I want.

Yes, but a girl likes to be held nicely.

All right.

I want you.

I want to sleep with you.

In exchange for letting me keep the
tenancy?

Yes, although I wouldn't have put it in
quite such brutal terms.

And if I don't sleep with you, I can't
keep the tenancy.

Yes, about the size of it, girl.

Gary, I think we've got enough.

Eh? You sure? Oh, yes.

What are you two up to? What's going on
here? Reg?

But if I don't sleep with you, I can't
keep the tenants asleep.

That's about the size of it, girl.

So, not only did he make lewd
suggestions, he actually exposed

I see nothing of the sort.

I'm afraid it's all on the tape.

That's about the size of it, girl.

Constable Dedman, I'm giving you this
for safekeeping. Mark it Exhibit A.

Oh, but you don't understand.

My home life is hell.

My wife doesn't understand me. Don't
talk to me about wives not understanding

people. That's no excuse for preying on
defenceless young ladies.

George Harrison, you are not obliged to
say anything.

Uh, Reg.

Reg, what are you doing?

I'm arresting him, of course.

You can't arrest him. You'll blow my
cover.

Oh, sorry.

All right, then, hop it. Can't you tell
Blackie? Yes, yes.

You won't say anything to the brewery,
will you?

Well, that depends.

If Phoebe keeps the tenancy.

Oh, and, uh...

Gets a couple of free barrels of beer a
week paid for by you personally.

But that's... Blackmail.

Constable! Would you call it blackmail,
Reg?

Sorry, son, my eardrum's flared up
again.

Oh, my hero, come here.

Oh, I'm never saying anything personal
to you anymore. I'll never know what

you've got in your pocket.

Well, no, but we could always nip up to
your flat and find out.

You cheeky monkey, you trying it on?

Yes.

I really love you, Gary.

Well done, son.

What? Talking out with that Harrison.

Oh.

She's like the daughter I never had,
that one.

Good to know she's in Claiborne, if
you'll pardon the expression.

Well, it's been a stretch.

Listen, son, I know it's difficult in
your line of business, but you will be

here Saturday, won't you?

What Saturday?

Phoebe's birthday.

I know she puts on a brave front, but
she'll be heartbroken if you don't make

it.

Saturday.

Yeah. Yeah, right.

I'm upstairs.

You all right?

Feeling up last night?

Yeah, I feel great.

Just fancied an early night.

Oh?

With my husband.

Come here, Gary.

Why? So I can give you a big kiss.

And why would you want to do that? Oh,
Gary, you were right about Mary

Cunningham and Duncan Granger. I mean,
what a creep, sitting on people's desks

and showing off his thighs.

Oh, right.

What happened?

Well, we might marry up and send her to
his office to take down dictation.

And that wasn't the only thing you
wanted her to take down?

Exactly. And Mr Littlejohn, the managing
director, called him into his office

and we played him the tape. Now, at
first, he pretended not to recognise his

voice. I mean, as if.

Suddenly, he didn't. It's like, aren't
they? So warm and mellifluous.

All right.

Well, and then he started to bluster.

He said, if you can't sit outside
someone's house and take the odd photo

in the garden, then what kind of a world
are we living in?

And Mr Little John said, the kind of
world in which you'd better start

for another job. And then he stormed
out, and then Mr Little John said to me,

well done, Yvonne, and I'll get a gold
star at my next performance review.

And that's when I decided on an early
night to thank you nicely.

And I've taken tomorrow morning off as
well, so we can catch up on some sleep.

Oh, er, yeah, I can't lie in tomorrow.
I've got this seriously important

breakfast meeting.

Oh, and I thought you might want to have
breakfast in bed.

Well, I'll just have a shower.

Two women, half a century apart, both
crazy for you.

You do not deserve this.

Oh, excuse me, madam. Would you be
interested in signing my petition?

It's against redeveloping this historic
part of London's old East End.

Stop it, Cor.

It's always been horrible.

Pull the old thing down, that's what I
say.

I'll put you down as a don't know then,
shall I?

Excuse me.

Oh, hello. What would you like to say?
Oh, sorry, I'm from the BBC.

I see.

And you're not allowed to have your own
opinion.

Under the present regime, it's not
advisable.

But that's not why I'm here.

Have you been doing this for long?

What, collecting names? No, it's the
first day.

So you haven't seen the ghost?

No, no, I haven't.

But I'm not surprised if restless
spirits have been interfered with.

Really? Gary, can I say something?

A lot of people around here died during
the Blitz. That's why we're campaigning

to have this building work stopped.

They could be disturbing unseen forces.

I see. Gary, I think that... Experts
will tell you it is asking for trouble.

They are digging up the unmarked graves
of victims of violence.

They're stirring up something dark,
something terrible.

You said experts.

What experts?

Stephen King.

Ah, I see.

Well, wait a minute.

Sorry, Ron, what were you going to say?

Only that you're making a prat of
yourself.

But even you've probably realised that.

Come on, I'll buy you a pint.

Or would you prefer a spirit?

What am I going to do, Ron?

I suppose we can't stop them building
here.

I'll never see Phoebe again.

A lot of people round here died during
the Blitz, and that is why we are

campaigning to stop this building work.

They could be disturbing unseen forces.

Is that enough, or would you like to see
it again in slow motion, or we can do

half -speed, quarter -speed, frame at a
time, black and white, all colour?

Yvonne... You said you had an important
breakfast meeting, and who should be on

the local news?

Yvonne... Why did you lie to me?

I didn't. I did have a breakfast
meeting.

Ron and I had bacon butties while we
were collating the signatures.

But why?

Why did you turn down a morning in bed
with me to annoy passers -by outside a

building site?

Have you seen what they're doing?

It's horrible. Another slice of London's
history condemned to the scrap heap. I

felt I had to do something.

Oh, but honestly, blethering on about
ghosts and spirits.

Well, somebody had to make a stand.

That's what I wanted you to do this
morning.

So do you think your pathetic
demonstration achieved anything?

No, not yet.

Oh, you're not going back?

I'm marked. It's Saturday tomorrow.

I mean, West Ham are playing at home and
their supporters will sign anything.

It's madness trying this in broad
daylight.

This way, with a bit of luck, security
guards will have dozed off.

Oh, no.

Where did they come from?

Huntington.

What?

Huntington, New York.

A mate of mine used to work for them.
What do we do now?

Go home and get back to bed.

No. We break in and find an alternate
route.

my opinion, if you're only going to
ignore it.

What are we looking for?

1941, of course.

Oh, no, that's not fair.

There should be a sign. Did you see a
sign saying, Guard dogs patrol this

Because I did not see a sign. Gary,
signs don't matter.

Get in an arse full of rottweiler
gnashes. That's what matters.

Hurry up!

Bloody hell!

Move over, Doctor Who.

Nothing ventured?

Be nice when it's finished, won't it?

Good morning, lady.

Any room for a refugee escaping from the
smell of Mrs Bloss's cooking?

You're up early.

I wanted to be the first to wish you
happy birthday. Happy birthday, Phoebe.

And?

Ta -da!

That is the smallest one I've ever seen.

Well, there is a war on, you know.

There you go.

All right, birthday girl.

Blow it out and make a wish.

What did you wish for?

What do you think?

I do miss you when you go away, Gary.

I know.

I wish I could be here all the time.
Hey, Gary, now, I've told you before.

I don't need any explanations.

I know you're not like that George
Harrison.

Whenever he's away from his wife for a
couple of nights, she knows what he's up

to.

How would she know?

Well, deep down inside, a woman always
knows.

Piece of cake?

I wish it was sleepy.

I only wish it was.

Good night, sweetheart Sleep will banish
sorrow

Good night, sweetheart Till we meet

tomorrow

We talk.