All language subtitles for tales_of_the_unexpected_s04e14_bosom_friends

Who is it?

Mr. Deacon. You can't come in, Mr.
Deacon. I'm not decent.

You want me to shut the door to all the
other tenants here?

Give the mess.

I haven't had a minute all day.

Where is it?

Well, I had hoped.

I'm telling you, if I don't get a tutor,
you're out.

Two weeks, you old... Are you
threatening me? I'm telling you, and

plenty of ways I can get you out. My
dear man.

Now, look, Mrs Atkins... But, Mr Deegan,
aren't you forgetting the fire escape?

Of course, it doesn't affect me down
here, but I do pass the housing

whenever I go to the post office.

I could pop in, remind them you were
meant to have it installed last March at

the latest.

It's criminal to put your tenants at
risk. You old witch!

They asked me how I could bear to be
alone.

Another doubled influence.

Satsang with Mooji

And I forgot her birthday. She'll think
I'm dead.

Dearest Nell, doesn't time fly?

Yeah? May I speak to Mrs. Emma Adkins,
please?

Oh, no.

What? I'll have to go down. Hang on.

Funny.

Emma said it was a private hotel in its
own grounds.

Mrs. Adkins?

She's the caretaker.

75, 22, 34, electricity 62.

She's on her way. Oh, thank you.

£159 .34.

Phone? For me?

What a surprise.

Hello?

Emma?

Nell! Nell Bridges.

Nell! I'm so sorry. What must you have
thought for getting your birthday?

Thank goodness you put your new
telephone number in your letter.

Anyway, many, many happy returns, dear
Emma. And how are you?

Oh... I'm fine, dear.

Flourishing. That's marvellous. Because
I've been thinking, Emma. I've had an

idea. I can't explain on the telephone,
but look, why don't you come down for

the weekend next Saturday?

Weekend? I'd love to, Nell.

What idea?

Oh, um, just a thought.

You haven't changed a bit.

No, you?

It's incredible, really.

I know. How many years? Oh, it mustn't
count.

I was never any good at songs.

Oh, yes, it is rather loud.

Oh, thank you very much.

Oh, I decided to leave London anyway,
dear, even before you fell.

Don't think I'm jumping the gun, dear.
I'm not, not a bit, no.

But when you said, why not come down for
the weekend and have a look round, I

thought, well... I can always find
somewhere near to

Darling Nell.

My dearest old school job.

Could I really stay till Tuesday?

Of course.

I mean, you don't feel bulldozed, do
you? You mustn't. I'd hate you to. Of

course you are. I hope you die.

Do you remember how we've always been
there? Well, we... We've always died.

Look, some of my early doubts are up
already.

You always adored flowers, didn't you?

Even if it doesn't suit us to share your
lovely home.

And after all, it may not, dear.

No strings attached.

I don't think either of us should feel
bound either way, do you?

Yet.

The fact is, the older one gets, the
more one treasures one's privacy, don't

find? Oh, quite.

I wouldn't intrude at all, dear.

Elder Flower.

Elder Berry.

And as you said, it is quite self
-contained, isn't it, up there?

Oh, yes.

But I thought you liked your private
hotel. Oh, I did, but then again, a

isn't a home, is it?

No, but... What were you thinking of
charging?

Well, you may not like it.

I mean, it's very different from London
down here. Oh, I'm sure I shall. One

grows out of big cities, I find.

We'll look.

May we?

I'm so excited.

Oh, really? Silly me.

Don't you speak too much.

Benjamin Bath, you're here.

No, don't show me. Don't show you?

I knew, I knew it.

Too tantalizing, dear. I know I can't
afford it.

It is quite... It's self -contained.

You could let this for at least 25
pounds a week. I couldn't run to that.

Let's go down.

But 25 pounds must be less than a hotel.

Oh, it is, but that's why I must draw my
horns in, Nell. I've been rather

extravagant since Henry died.

Oh, dear.

What a pity.

I might run to 18 pounds.

But 20 is basic, really, Anne.

The rates are low.

Perhaps I could get some babysitting
locally.

Perhaps. No, do say, Nell. I mean, I'll
understand.

If you don't want me. No, no, dear, it
isn't that. No, just horrid, horrid

money. The fact is, you're out of my
range now, Nell.

Well, I suppose 18 pounds would help.

The idea of a stranger.

No, Nell. You must be realistic.

You won't know I'm here, Nell. I
promise.

Well, I think I could babysit Mr.

Brown, but it depends on Nell.

I don't drive, you see.

I'll run you back.

You'll run me back if I can find my way
to you.

Oh, she's at work. I'll ring her, then
ring you.

Bye.

I'm sorry, Emma. We must talk about it
later. I have to finish these accounts.

But I must telephone Mr. Brown. He needs
to know if I can babysit tonight.

I'm sorry. I can't talk about it now.

Have you borrowed my cheese?

I had six ounces of cheddar.

Did I?

Oh, yes.

Sorry, dear. I meant to say I had a
thing for lunch.

You haven't had your sherry? No. I put
it out specially, dear, knowing you'd be

tired. You can't manage this week
either.

You put out my sherry for me last week,
Emma, when you couldn't pay me the rent.

It's getting to be a bit of a habit.

Must have been Mr. Brown.

No, producer.

It's Mr. Brown. May I speak to Mrs.
Atkins? Hold on.

You were right. It's about the
babysitting. He'll run me back. But I

run you there.

Yes. Well, I'd earn five pounds, dear.
All for you.

Hello. You there?

Hello. Yes.

Yes.

Look. If you want Mrs. Adkins to
babysit, you can pick her up yourself.

running anybody anywhere.

No. What will he think? He'll think what
he likes.

It's too bad, Emma.

I have the cheese, then no rent.

Nonsense.

Hello? You shouldn't have knocked there.
Up here.

I'll just switch the light off.

I'm Mr.

Brown. Oh, you've come for Emma. She's
up there. I'm not. I'm here. Don't you

bother, Nell. You go on in.

You're steady now.

A bit shaky.

More haste, less speed.

Quite a landlady you've got. Oh, she's
lovely, really. I don't think of her as

my landlady. We were bosom friends at
school.

I know I owe you six weeks in all, dear,
but I told you I have a little savings

account with the Building Society, and
I'll go there on Monday and get some

money out.

Henry said I should never break into my
own capital, but... I've written you a

letter, Emma.

Written to me? Why did you write?

I'm afraid I've had to give you notice
to leave.

Notice?

But you're my oldest friend.

I've told you I shall take the money out
of my savings.

Look, if you do have to give Mr. Brown
my sherry, you might at least bring back

the glasses.

I went upstairs today to fetch them, and
I found your savings book lying on the

table beside them, stamped, account
cancelled.

They made a mistake.

Are you sure?

Or was it you who made the mistake?

I... I did have an account.

But then I kept on dipping. You know, I
had to.

And then he closed it.

Oh, no.

What must you think of me?

So badly off.

And no one else to turn to.

Please, no.

Give me one more chance.

I'm sorry. It's all been a terrible
mistake. I ought to have known I valued

privacy. It wouldn't be so bad if you
could pay your way.

I do my best.

You sick, my fool.

You pull up my mouth so that they won't
increase next year.

Only sick makes rent.

Do you realize, or do you? I don't
believe you do.

I don't like saying it, but I can. Are
you evicting me, dear? I am asking you

a civilized person to go, that fool.
Drag my things into the... It isn't a

street. It's a garden. No, this isn't
like you, Nell. It really isn't. It is a

toilet. No, you're kind and generous.

Let me make you a cup of tea.

And we'll talk it over sensibly.

And if we decide I'm to go, I should go.

Nicely. Not like this. Not at the
moment.

After all, you asked me to stay. I did
warn you it might be too much for me.

I knew, as a matter of fact, that once I
agreed to stay, the onus would be on

you.

The law being what it is, the rent act,
the right of tenants.

I mean, you can't throw your tenants out
of the right of tenants. You're quoting

the law.

I don't really understand about these
things, but Mr. Brown does.

Oh, you, dear. My earnings.

I know it isn't much, but... Well, there
you are.

The widow's mite.

Now, I've been thinking. I know I can't
contribute as I should, but suppose,

only suppose, dear, I were to move down
here into your storage room. Then we

could let my top part and share the
proceeds.

In return, I'd be thought of well.

You know, you're housekeeper, really.

And that would give us both a bit more
income, wouldn't it?

And you wouldn't have to do the horrid
washing up.

Oh, and there's another thing.

That staircase, it really is rather
dangerous, you know.

Mr. Brown says... Good night, Emma.

Sorry.

Yes.

I expect you've got one of your
headaches.

It started in junior school, I remember.

Good night.

Such a horrid night.

Telephone, telephone for me at this time
of night. Hurry up, long distance.

Gosh!

Well, we don't think she'll walk again.

Really?

Wheelchair, possibly.

After a long time in bed, of course.

Quiet.

Mrs. Atkins?

Mrs. Atkins, a visitor for you.

Mrs. Atkins?

Dodie, dear.

Miss Bridges?

Speaking. Oh, this is the Mayday
Hospital.

Mrs. Adkins asked us to call you.

As her only living relative, she would
like you to visit her.

Relative?

I'm not a relative.

She keeps asking for you.

Oh.

Very well.

Yes.

Here she is, Mrs. Atkins.

Oh, dear.

Emma. I expected you here every day when
I was unconscious.

Three weeks.

The bills are enormous. I don't know
what we're going to do.

The bills?

But this is National Health. No, this is
a private ward. My first treatment was

free, but not now, not here.

That's why I needed to see you.

Surely you're entitled to free treatment
under the National Health Service. No,

Mr Brown insisted I be treated in a
private ward.

He said it was the least I deserved.

He's very legal -minded.

Is he then to be up to him to pay?

Apparently not.

He says that as my landlady, you should
have had those stairs made safe, you

see, and it's up to your house insurance
to pay.

Accidents do third parties. He thinks
it's a clear -cut case.

But... I haven't got third -party
insurance, Emma, so it won't work.

I thought.

I said to Mr. Brown I didn't think you
had that sort of insurance.

It's going to take about a year to put
me right.

You mustn't worry.

What I do is sue you, dear.

Nothing personal, Nell. Just an illegal
thing to get the money. You do see.

Sue me?

Don't be absurd. What can you mean? It's
quite normal in such cases, he says.

But I've nothing, do you hear? Nothing.

But of course you've got something,
Nell, dear.

Well, you just try. You just try. Your
cottage for a start.

There's no mortgage on that, is there?

And your car.

And your annuity for when you retire.

I won't listen to you.

But you must.

It's only fair.

You must help.

Or else look after me for the rest of my
life.

One or the other.

Because you knew those stairs were
dangerous, didn't you? Didn't you, Nell?

In fact, I've sometimes wondered if you
didn't help them along a little.

Push. Not it loud.

I haven't wondered it loud.

I could.

I shan't.

It's just one of those nasty little
thoughts I sometimes get when I'm alone.

No. None of that matters.

Not even the insurance.

Horrid.

No.

Just so long as you look after me. We'll
be together, Mel. For always.

Bosom friends.

Sharing our every secret.

Oh, no.

No.

You mean yes, dear?

Yes?