All language subtitles for goodnight_sweetheart_s05e02_london_pride

Good night, sweet heart.

All my prayers are for you.

Good night, sweet heart.

I'll be watching over you.

Tears and parting may make us alone.

But with the dawn, a new day is born.

Mrs Gregg? Four and ninepence for liver?

Ah, it's on account of the German
submarines.

I said ox liver, not cod liver.

On the bright side, I'm about to receive
some venison from Windsor Great Park

following a motor car collision between
a stag and a royal equerry, one of whom

had too much pork with his dinner. Put
you down for a haunt, shall I? Oh, would

you? The general loves his haunt.

Well, I'll bid you good day.

Yes, good day.

I don't believe I've had the pleasure.

I should hope not. I'm a married woman.

I simply meant I hadn't seen you in my
shop before.

Oh, well, we just moved up this way.

Ever so nice, isn't it? With all the
trees.

Makes you want to get a dog, doesn't it?

I already have a dog.

Lovely tiles.

Pardon me for asking, but why does no
-one seem to pay here?

There's all my clientele are account
customers, of course.

Of course.

Well... I was wondering if I could, you
know, if it wouldn't be too much

trouble, be an account customer too.

Well, it's feasible.

This venison you were talking about.

Er, no, most of it's already spoken for.

I wouldn't want an old orange.

Half an orange would be heady for us.

Yes, may I ask for whom the meat is
required?

Yours truly, of course.

No, no, I mean who is your employer?

I don't have an employer.

It's a baby in that pram, not a bag of
coal.

Me and my Gary have just moved into
Cornwall Mansion.

Ah, I didn't know they had a new porter.
What happened to old George?

Porter?

My Gary's not a porter, he's... I'm not
a liberty to say one. He's not a

blooming porter.

We have just bought the first floor flat
for cash.

Ah.

On closer consideration, I don't think I
can accommodate any more customers at

the moment.

On account of the German submarine?

Yes, quite.

Not good enough for you, am I?

Don't want the likes of me chewing your
gristle, eh?

May I remind you, there's a war on. I
know there's a blinking war on my

husband's, innit?

Well, I'm off.

And you can stick your haunch up your
Harris.

I... Ow!

Hi, honey, I'm home.

Oh.

What's the matter?

I've had it up to here today.

Oh, who's a lucky girl, then?

What are you talking about?

Oh, nothing. Just a bit of harmless
innuendo.

And what does that mean?

Why does everyone want to make me feel
stupid?

I don't.

What's wrong?

Well, first, I try to sign on with this
butcher.

Treats me like a ton of condemned horse
meat.

Then I take Michael for a walk round
Green Park.

One of those newly old nannies with
their uniforms and posh prams says

eyes are too close together.

Oh, well, of course they aren't.

Everyone says he's got his father's eyes
and my eyes aren't too close together,

are they?

Well... Well, of course they're not.

No, I knew they weren't.

Gimlet, gimlet eyes, that's what I've
got.

Watchful, steady, secret agent's eyes.

Eyes that miss nothing.

I wish you wouldn't leave these toys
lying around all over the place.

Now you're saying I can't even tidy
properly.

I don't like living up west no more,
Gary.

I knew where I was at the Royal Oak.

In Stepney, people think I'm posh. They
make you feel so common. You are not

common. Yes, I am. And I sound common.
You don't. Not to me.

But look, if it's that important to you,
why don't I teach you how to speak

better? Better?

You just said you didn't think I sound
common. Oh, I can't win. Phoebe, I love

your voice.

When I said better, I didn't mean
better. I just meant... Well, more like

way other people speak in this part of
London.

You mean elocution lessons?

Well, something like that.

I don't know.

When I was at school, there was this
girl, Maisie Jackson.

Her dad worked in an office, so they
thought they were better than the rest

us.

She took elocution lessons.

And we used to bash her up.

Not a particularly pleasant story.

I know.

So, are you teaching me how to speak
proper?

Ah, proper -ly.

And who says you can speak proper -ly?

Well, excuse me, I have been trained to
fit into any stratum of society.

I can be as posh as you like.

Ah, good afternoon, Lady Kilnard. I must
say, you looked absolutely spiffing at

the King's Garden party.

Oh, I can do cockney?

Go on, laugh at that, lady, say. Where
did you get that tit for?

I can even do German.

You refuse to answer my questions.

That's just putting it on, though.

I'd want lessons from someone who was
really classy.

Oh, thanks very much.

I suppose we could always ask Mr Coward
upstairs.

You don't think Noel Coward would have
the time to teach a like than me?

Yeah, he's not that busy. Quite often
bump into him in the lift.

He's there with some young chap or
other.

I know.

I think he might be running a boys' club
up there.

I suppose there's no harm in asking.

Who's that?

That'll be Reg.

Reg?

Supplies! Ah, I like your lovely
supplies.

See, Chinese as well.

Thanks, Reg.

I hate making a fool of myself in
Fortnum and Mason's.

You're a good gent.

Oh, I don't mind fetching a few errands.

Coppers don't have to pay on the buses.

Oh, I like coming up west.

Usually I only come up on me birthday.

You know, for a nice look in the shop
windows.

Oh, you sophisticated devil.

Oh, birthday then Christmas.

Gee, and I've had a lovely father
Christmas in Selfridges before the war.

Used to kick you on his knee, pat you on
the head, ask you if you'd been a good

boy. Oh, I used to really love seeing
Santa.

I'm surprised you stopped going.

Oh, I didn't want to.

Only Sergeant Wilkins said I was
bringing a police force into disrepute.

You're a tonic, Ray. I know.

Wincarnis is my middle name.

Is it really?

No. Not really.

It's a sort of joke.

Oh, got you.

Point of fact, I've got lots of middle
names.

Oh, that's nice.

Eleven, to be exact.

Why? Oh, don't ask him.

You see, my dad was a fanatical Spurs
supporter, and 1901 they beat Sheffield

United 3 -1 in a cup final. So, when I
was born, nine months to the day

Having been conceived in a post -cup
final outburst of marital passion, eh?

Do you know, that never occurred to me
before.

Anyhow, since you asked... I don't think
we did.

My name in full is Clawley, he was in
goal, Errant, Tate... Anyone fancy a cup

of tea? Jones, Hughes, Morris... And a
biscuit?

Smith, Cameron, Brown, Copeland, Kerwin,
Didman.

That's very original, Reg. Thank you.

Now, the sharper -witted amongst you may
have noticed that the name Reginald

does not appear in my full moniker. To
be honest, my attention started to

during the midfield.

You see, when me dad sobered up, Mum
said, you can't expect the poor kid to

through life called Clawley. I wouldn't
call a dog Clawley, said Mum. Well, as

fate would have it, we did have a dog.

Island Cross Terrier.

Why was he cross?

No, I don't mean... Well, luckily, the
dog was called

Ridge. So I took his name and he had
mine.

They'd all come out right as night,
Princey.

Except he never came when you called
him.

Have I told you this story before?

Did you see Yvonne last night?

No, I was with Mel Coward. I mean, on
the telly.

Well, she's always on the telly. Those
cable lifestyle channels have to fill up

with something.

No, I mean on the proper telly.

Well, Channel 5, anyway.

I sent it for you.

What did she say?

I've no idea. I was watching a
challenging documentary on BBC One.

I thoughtfully wound that forward to the
right place. Oh, right.

On Breaking Out, Breaking In is Yvonne
Sparrow.

Now, Yvonne, barely two years ago, you
were a redundant personnel officer.

Personnel director, Esther.

Suffering from depression.

Today, you're a millionaireess,
nationally famed for having set up the

Boy Cosmetic Company.

And amongst your clients, you've got
Baby Spice, Chelsea Clinton, Yasser

It's been some years.

How did it all begin?

Well, as you said, Esther, I was feeling
very low. I'd lost my job and a baby.

But there was one man who really
believed in me.

Someone who told me that I could do it,
Esther. That I only had to believe in

myself. She's right, Esther. That's what
I said.

Are you talking about your partner?

Yes, I am, Esther.

Without Clive Lezouche, I don't think I
would have approached him.

Clive's backed me all the way. And he's
always been on hand to give me a damn

good... A damn good...

A damn good what?

Ron, what's happening? The tape's
rewinding. I'm sorry, I thought it was a

longer tape. I recorded it on the end of
Liverpool Wrexham.

What? Coca -Cola Cup.

There was penalties, extra time, public
failure, pitching break. I'm sorry.

Well, I don't need to hear any more, do
I? I can guess what Clive gave Yvonne. A

damn good fee and two.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

You think not?

No!

They'd never let us say that on Channel
5.

I love controversy on these chat shows.

I bet that was her way of telling me she
doesn't need me anymore.

She knew that even if I didn't see the
interview, that would get back to me

somehow or other. Gary, you're
overreacting.

OK, it's a bit of a downer when your
wife humiliates you on national

but Prince Andrew managed to keep
smiling through.

No, she's almost forgotten I exist.

She's got her business, she's got her
celebrity friends, she's got Clive's

stupid ponytail azush.

I never knew his full name.

God, you know, all these years, I have
tried to juggle two lives.

All these years, I have strived...
Striven, surely.

Striven? Striven to keep two women
happy.

All these years, I've been knackering
myself. They should strike a medal.

You know, if I had any sense, I would
just slip quietly out of Yvonne's life.

Then I could give Phoebe and Michael all
the attention they deserve.

But you tried staying in the past
before. You hated it.

Yeah, well, that was the East End.
Mayfair's different.

What about me?

I'm a lonely bachelor. You're my best
friend.

I'm sorry, mate, but your wife hasn't
just announced on Channel 5 that she's

screwing Clive Lezouche.

To 3 .8 % of the population, I'm a
laughingstock.

Or we could steal a meter off the
swimming pool and have both.

Yeah.

Could you complete the following phrase,
please? Clive was always on hand to

give me a damn good... Excuse me a
moment, Ram.

Ram? Which boyfriend are you talking to
now?

He's an architect. His family are from
Bangalore.

Oh. Now, about my study. Could we build
in a video conference facility before

the oak panelling goes on?

Yeah. Oh, get that, would you, Gary?

At least you're looking for a blonde
kleptomaniac businesswoman after a

raid on the Cricklewood branch of Dixon.

Hello?

No, Clive, she's not.

She's decided to give it all up and
enter a convent. Thank you. Bye -bye.

Can I get back to you on that one, Ram?

OK, bye.

So what's all this?

This is our new house, Gary. At least it
will be.

What new house? You said you don't want
to move. Oh, that was Tuesday times.

Wingard Charius has moved on. Look at
the new development.

Seven bedrooms, an acre of garden, only
700k.

A mere 700 ,000. Well, that's petty
cash.

Gary, we can afford it.

Then where do I fit in?

You fit in there. That's your satellite
TV viewing room.

You fit in there. That's your snooker
room and bar.

And you fit in there. That's the
swimming pool and fitness complex.

Do I fit in there?

The guest cloakroom.

Right there. The master bedroom.

Gary, what the hell are you talking
about?

I'm talking about your Channel 5
interview. The way you were singing

praises. Well, of course I was. I owe
him everything.

Oh, I see.

So when you said Clive gives me a
damn... Oh, Gary, I cannot remember

single detail of every interview.

Those TV shows are like marital sex.

They last a few minutes, there's nothing
in it for you, and they're finished

just as they start getting interesting.

Oh, that'll be my limo.

Where are you going?

Brazil, I told you.

Brazil? Yes, Brazil, where the nuts come
from.

It's only for the weekend.

All right, well, have a lovely time,
live.

Oh, don't be so childish.

Well, you certainly put her in a place,
Gary.

Better, better, but I want to hear
rounded vowels and crisp consonants. How

brown cow.

How now, brown cow.

How now, Noel Coward. How's she doing?

Your utterly attractive wife has got a
very good ear.

Well, just the one.

Now,

let's try something a little more
ambitious.

Oh, I know a good one.

I'm not a pheasant plucker, I'm a
pheasant plucker's son, and I'm only

pheasants till the pheasant plucker
comes.

I'm... I'm not a... I'm not a...
Terribly amusing. I must teach that one

king. Just knock her out to speak, old
plummy. Neither was Eliza Doolittle, yet

she conquered all.

Who?

Eliza Doolittle, the heroine of George
Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion.

I knew... she rang a bell. Do you know,
a few years back, Gary turned Pygmalion

into a musical.

Really?

Well, I'm sure Noel doesn't want to hear
about my amateur efforts.

Amateur? He was only going to do it on
Broadway until the war come along.

It came along, dear. Came along.

He used to caught me by singing songs
out of it that were lovely. My favourite

one was...

I have often walked down this street
before, but the pavement always stayed

beneath my feet before.

All at once have I... Lovely, dear.

Charming, charming.

You have a delightful voice, my dear.

Get it?

I never realised you were so enormously
endowed with talent.

Do you have a publisher?

Well, I used to, in America.

I keep telling him he should get one
here.

But I've sworn not to return to my
musical career until we've crushed

his hideous crew.

An honourable attitude.

Very well, Phoebe, on with the motley.
Now, try and get your tongue around

I'd far rather lather father than have
father lather me because when father

lathers, he lathers rather free.

I'd far rather lather father than... No,
no, no, no, no, no, no. I'd far rather

lather father... I'd far rather lather
father... Good.

Don't have father, lather me. No, no,
no.

Rather, lather.

Rather, lather. Rather.

I've always wanted a 1928 Lord Nelson.

And in mint condition, too.

Well, wish fulfilment is our business,
Mr Hornby.

So... Which one?

I'll have the lot.

Oh, right.

Good idea. Well, I'll just top that lot
up.

I've got a calculator.

Oh, no, no, no. None of those newfangled
post -war gadgets in here, if you don't

mind.

Right, that comes to... I'm afraid
that's £1 ,275.

Shall we just call it £1 ,200 for cash?

It's a deal. Right.

Look at that. 1 ,200 in reddies. Told
you this place was a goldmine.

It's probably using you to launder drugs
money.

So, how was Brazil?

Same as usual.

What are you doing slumming it in
Whitechapel? I'm on my way to the

house for the Woman of the Year dinner.

What, dressed like that?

Don't be silly.

Stella McCartney's meeting me there with
a new frock.

It's a bit short notice.

I've got a darts match tonight.

That's all right. You're not invited.

Taking Clive, are you?

No men are invited, Gary. It's ladies
only.

Well, that's sexist. Now you know how it
feels.

Oh, so that's why you came round, is it?
To tell me I can't come with you? Look,

Yvonne, I think things have gone far
enough.

I can't stop. Paolo's on a double
yellow. What I came to say is that

party after the dinner and you're
invited to that.

Oh, smashing, yeah.

Me, you and 99 other overachieving ball
breakers, no thanks.

See you just now.

It's at Cherie's place.

Cherie? Do we know a Cherie?

Cherie Blair.

Cherie Blair?

You mean number ten?

Yeah, Tony said it would be right for us
to have a few mates round.

I'll leave your name on the gate.

Yeah, but hold on, hold on. Oh, do you
want to wish me luck?

No, I've still got a bone to pick with
you about that TV interview. Complete

phrase, please. Clive gives me a damn
good... Well, if that's how you feel,

frankly, I'm insulted.

Yeah, I suppose he isn't that much to
look at.

Insulted by your lack of faith?

Well, I have found time in my busy
schedule to get a hold of that tape. And

you'll find that what I actually said
about Clive is that he gives me a damn

good kick up the backside whenever I'm
feeling sorry for myself.

It's just a pity you haven't got anyone
to administer a dose of Doc Martens to

yourself, pitying buttocks.

Hello. Shh.

I've just got him to sleep.

Oh, sorry.

Where's Phoebe?

Apparently, she's frying your tea.

Hello, darling. Sit down and I'll mix
your cocktail.

Bye, George. I think she's got it.

Oh, Gary, you look knackered.

She's almost got it.

Your son is sleeping like a top.

What? Well, you certainly seem to have
the knack.

Well, I do have a plethora of got
children, you know.

you never thought of getting married?

Well, how could I?

Well, no, I suppose not.

I mean, so many women adore me, how
could I disappoint all but one of them?

Oh, right, yes, see, fine.

Still, that way they're all as happy as
Larry.

Yes, but is Larry really happy?

Well, you know him, no? What do you
think?

Well, it's terribly hard to tell. You
see, he's the most striking actor of our

era, married to Vivien Leigh, the most
glamorous woman in the world, and yet...

But second most glamorous after Phoebe.

Oh, you stop the ape -er.

I hate the ape -er, my dear. Don't think
of the H.

Talking of Laurence Olivier, I was
thinking, he's gone back on the stage,

he? And no -one's writing a new film,
even though the war isn't over.

A patriotic picture, dear, to boost
morale.

Exactly.

So what are you getting at?

Well, the war effort doesn't only mean
fighting.

It's about keeping up people's morale.

You write lovely songs, Gary. People
shouldn't be deprived of them just

of Hitler.

Yeah, but, Phoebe... I just think you
should play one of your numbers.

See what Noel thinks.

Noel doesn't want to hear one of my
silly songs.

No, no, no, I'm all ears.

That's just the way you slick your hair
back.

Sorry.

Go on, Gary.

Go on.

All right.

I think I should tell you the songs I've
been writing recently, they're not the

happy, frothy ditties of the pre -war
era.

No, no, no matter. Play on.

Um... Hmm.

I was happy in the haze of a drunken
hour But heaven knows I'm

miserable now I was looking for a job
and then I found a job

But heaven knows I'm miserable now In my

life Sorry,

that was terrible, wasn't it?

No, no, no, no, no. It's unusual.

I really must be going. Phoebe, darling,
it's been a pleasure, as always.

Gary, let me give you a tidbit of advice
from an old theatrical.

Don't give up your day job.

Gary, how... Could you?

Sometimes I don't think you want to be a
famous songwriter.

Phoebe...

I'm

a loser.

I'm a loser.

And I'm not what I appear to be.

Come to the party, Gary Sparrow. Your
invitation, sir?

Um, I don't have one. I mean, my wife
had one. She said she'd leave my name on

the door.

This is Downing Street, sir.

Not the Ministry of Sound.

You mean there's a difference?

No, listen, you've heard of Yvonne
Sparrow.

She's the founder of Nature Boy Healthy
Cosmetic.

Of course I've heard of her.

I swear by her after dark macadamia nut
body scrub.

Right, well, I'm Gary Sparrow, her
husband.

Look, my name's there on the clipboard.

Nice try.

But everyone knows she's married to that
hippie -looking chap with the pony

tail.

And you won't let me in?

I thought he was going to be working all
night.

Yeah, so did I.

Between you and me, and don't tell a
soul, there was supposed to be a special

briefing at Downing Street tonight.

Only Mr Churchill forgot to leave my
name on the gate.

Gate? What gate?

Well, you know, the big rook... Door,
sorry.

Doesn't matter.

Much rather spend the evening with a
posh lady like you.

Oh, one's just saying that. No, one
means it.

I suppose we ought to go to bed.

Oh, and tomorrow, what do you say we
teach that butcher a damn good lesson?

Gary, darling, language, please.

I'm sure the general will enjoy this.

Morning,

sir. Madam.

Morning, my man.

Oh, it's you.

You've got a nerve showing your face in
here after what you said about my

gristle. Is that the haunch of venison
you were expecting from Windsor Great

Park?

I've told you, it's all spoken for. Now
I suggest you take your ration coupons

elsewhere. See, darling?

I told you he was contravening Rule 47B
of the Emergency Butchery Act.

Now, look, I... Who are you?

Gary Sparrow, Ministry of Food.

I'm afraid I will have to impound your
venison.

It could be brought up in court.

Especially if it's not cooked properly.

Now, look, I mean, there's nothing wrong
with me selling this venison. The King

wouldn't mind.

I'm not here because of the venison.

I'm here because you refused to register
my wife as a customer.

simply because she was posing as a
member of the lower orders.

Posing? Quite. My husband had received
several complaints about your

unpatriotically superior attitude to
people of humble origin.

So, I was asked to come and test you
out. And frankly, you were snobbish,

unpleasant and patronising.

Now, the only reason I'm not taking
official action against you is because

very good friend, Mr Noel Coward, spoke
up for you.

He particularly esteems your Cumberland
sausage.

I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.

I shall be keeping an eagle eye on you
as long as rationing continues.

You can consider this an official
reprimand.

Yes, yeah, thank you, thank you.

Come, my dear.

Just a moment, my dear.

What about the rest of that illicit
venison?

Why, yes.

We'll have to confiscate it all.

Ah, yes, yes, of course I understand.

Norbert!

Good job we bought the prune.

Good night, sweetheart.

Sleep will banish sorrow.

Good night, sweetheart.

Till we meet tomorrow.

Dream then fold you.

In memory I'll fold you.

Good night, sweetheart.