All language subtitles for waiting_for_god_s04e01_financial_difficulties

Here he comes. You got the arrow?
Standing by, number one.

You don't think this is a bit childish,
do you?

He called me a sweet old thing.

Not only passionising, but amazingly
inaccurate.

Shut your face and pass the shooter.

Now, marbles or ball bearings?

Acorns. Acorns?

You can't take an eye out with acorns.

Precisely.

I thought I was the old woman round
here.

No, I'm the old woman.

You're the old bat.

Here we go again.

Rats! Look what he's done.

Morning, Miss Trent.

I've got a flamethrower.

Come on.

Where are you going?

Well, he's got to come back down the
drive again.

Remember the great escape?

Of course I do.

When I was shorter, I was Steve McQueen.

We need a rope to stretch across the
drive.

Are you sure this is wise, Harvey?

It is essential, Jane.

The body is the vessel of the soul.

Are you?

No, I'm concerned about my body.

If I can turn this old bod into a
rippling sex machine, well, then I'll be

totally perfect person.

What about personality?

It's a good idea, Jane.

Try and order me some, will you?

And compassion and affection.

Do you want me to order those, too?

Well, who needs them?

Everybody needs compassion, Harvey.

If you don't care for someone...

You aren't really alive.

Yes, but I do care for someone, Jane.

Oh, really?

Yes, I care for someone very much.

Oh, gosh.

May I be so bold as to inquire who?

Well, me, of course.

Has postman Pat set off yet?

No, damn it.

Must be having a cuppa.

Get me down.

Since we've come this far.

Do you want to die right now?

Oh, filthy old goat.

Oh, God, what... What in God's name is
this?

My new toy just arrived.

What is it, a DIY enema kit?

It's a damp meter.

Well, what do you do with it?

It measures damp. That's why it's called
a damp meter.

Oh,

they could sell you anything, couldn't
they?

You even have a wooden bead car seat
cover.

So have a lot of other people.

Yes, but most of them have cars.

Oh, Tom.

You are the dumping ground for every
useless invention of the past 20 years.

I am not.

Have you still got that golf thing that
stamps your initials on your balls?

This is important.

It tells me where it's damp.

Well, I could tell you where it's damp.

It's damp in the sea, it's damp in the
rain, it's damp in the bloody bath.

Aha! What are you doing?

It's registering.

What? Damp.

You must have water on the knee.

Get away from me.

You know the cure for water on the knee?

Drainpipe trousers.

Ha! It's registering again.

You must have water on the brain.

You know the cure for water on the
brain?

A tap on the head.

A tap on the... I got those jokes out of
the beano. That's what I suggest you

put them back. Some seven -year -old
child is probably looking for them.

Ah, you've got no sense of humour.

I have a very good sense of humour, Tom,
which is why I don't like your pathetic

jokes. Oh, God, Tom.

You are becoming a deflated old lilo.

What is the matter with you?

You used to have a sort of bizarre
intellectual vigour, but nowadays you're

getting all wet, whimsical and fae.

Why don't you go and watch Bridge Over
the River Kwai again?

Restore your intellectual vigour.

Some chance with you around.

What did you say? Nothing.

No, no, no, come on, what did you say?
It doesn't matter.

Will you come back here at once?

That's what I mean.

You're always bossing me, steamrollering
me.

You're quite right.

I'm not a person in my own right any
more.

I've become your echo chamber.

An occasional voice of reason and
decency, but not much else.

And this is my fault?

No, I suppose not. It's just me.

Well, the whole Ballard family,
actually. They've all been a dreadful

time. Not a single member of my family
has ever done anything extraordinary,

discovered penicillin or landed on the
moon.

I would expect they're all fine,
upstanding, decent people.

No, they weren't. They were boring.

They're still boring.

And if Geoffrey had his way, he'll bore
us all into the... next century. On and

on. How very depressing.

I bet when the world ends, there'll be a
dreary ballad there saying, oh, look,

it's the end of the world and I haven't
returned my library book.

Tom, you're a kind man, a considerate
man. You're a good man.

I always wanted to be a bastard.

Flash Harry, a man in a shiny suit who
spoiled birdies. and sold orphans into

slavery.

Well, you did cheat at Domino's in 1953.

Still didn't win.

It's no good.

I'll always be the man the world's
forgot.

Nonsense. What was your name again?

And now I have creaky bones.

That's why I've got the damp meter.
Something creeps into my bones overnight

I wake up stiff as a board.

Tom, that's age. That's your midnight
visitor.

Been with me for years.

I'm going to check my wall.

Investment people.

What do these dirty little shysters
want?

Dear Miss Trent.

The receivers have written to us to
say...

Oh, my God.

How busy you are. This is a matter of
life or death.

Now, I will be on the 1027. Meet me at
the station.

We have some severe head -busting to do.

How is my baby?

Oh, good. Well, you bring her with you.

Got to be something worth living for.

Diana, it's 7 .3. Well, aren't you the
lucky chappy?

Well, that's twice what it should be.

Jolly good, but just remember, it's not
the size that counts.

The dam!

My room is so damp I could go surfing in
there.

I have to go up to town.

What about that rising dam?

Take a cold shower.

Oi, you, porter!

You deaf as well as idle?

You take my bag?

Madam, I'm not a porter.

I'm an admiral in Her Majesty's Royal
Navy.

Oh.

Well, I'm a taxpayer and you're a...
public servants, so pull out your

grab me bag, and we'll up anchor.

When royal arrival, you'll find a porter
outside.

Outside is where I want to go, you great
ninny. How much more am I going outside

to get someone to take me outside?

I'm very sorry, madam.

You're not half as sorry as you'll be
when I tell your royal personage that

abused and abandoned an old lady on the
platform of one of her majesty's

stations.

Come on, then.

At the double.

Quick, Mart.

Definitely the senior service.

You did it. Really?

Oh, there she is.

I don't believe it.

Hello, Officer.

Oh, get off, girl. What have you done to
your hair? You look like a bug brush.

Divey donkeys.

Oi, where's your...

Are you going to come with your great
-auntie? Yes, you are, darling. We're

going to go and see those naughty men
break their eddy -weddy.

Oh, God.

You're putting your luck, aren't you,
Basil? The last person Diana found in

seat got kneecapped. It's all right.

Diana's laying waste to London today.

Besides, she won't mind me. You see,
secretly, Diana has the hots for me.

Basil. Yes, she just lives for the day
when Big Bad Bass kicks her door down

takes her screaming to the heights of
animal ecstasy.

Take it easy, Basil.

Take it easy. Now, have your soup.

Hang on a minute.

What are you doing?

I'm getting a reading.

That's my soup. Get your nozzle out of
it.

8 .2.

You see, my room is almost as damp as
your soup.

What? My little nozzle never lies.

Nor does mine.

But I don't go round sticking it in
other people's soup.

Oh, Jane.

A word, if you please.

What is it, Tom?

There's something amiss.

It's Harvey.

He's at the hospital.

Oh, what's he doing there? Body
snatching?

He's had an accident.

His heart? His neck.

He was running down the drive, fit and
healthy one moment, and then flat on his

back.

Is he going to be all right?

Yes, I think so.

What of me, Tim?

Tell him I want to see him as soon as
possible.

He'll be back this afternoon.

I'm borrowing strength and you have to
have an appointment.

I'm on my way. You can't go in there.
No!

Excuse me, what do you think you're
doing?

Shut up and sit down. Where's the boss?
I beg your pardon? Where's this Malcolm

person? I'm Jane Malcolm.

Well, I don't want his wife.

I'm not his wife. There isn't a him.

What's this clotheshorse on about?

This is signed, Jane Malcolm.

She's Jay Malcolm.

It's a woman.

Well, it would appear so.

Do you have some problem dealing with a
woman?

Only when I'm intent upon physical
violence.

With men, I have no qualms about
stuffing my fingers up their noses as

the second knuckle.

With members of my own sex, I tend to be
a trifle old -fashioned.

My aunt is a real gentleman.

Would you care to sit down?

I want you to hit someone when you
can't. So stop your nonsense.

Could you explain all this?

It's pretty much as stated in the
letter.

Miss Trent invested the majority of her
savings in the Bartlett & Cairns

investment company.

And they've gone under.

They've suffered certain losses which
have necessitated them ceasing trading.

For how long?

We're the receivers.

You mean they've gone for good?

Yes. But there must be something left.

Oh, there is.

So my aunt gets her money back.

Well, there's a fairly well -defined
pecking order for the distribution of

bankrupt assets.

But surely a pensioner with no other
source of income will come top of the

Not quite.

The inland revenue always takes what's
owed them first.

Then the banks.

Then major creditors. And then... But
isn't there a government pension

protection scheme thingy? This was a
private scheme.

Better promised return, but a degree of
risk.

And how long will it be before she gets
her widow's mite?

About three years.

And how much will that be?

It's hard to say, but at a rough guess,
about 17p in the pound.

Do you mean to say Diana has no income?

Nothing.

I'm sorry.

Well, that's a bit... It's a bit tricky.

So... Just an old woman with no money.

It's just as well I've got you.

He's right, Harvey.

I got Lawrence over from the home care
centre and he agreed Dad has the veer

-rising damp.

I've even bought a snorkel and flippers.

It's an unacceptable health hazard for
my father, isn't it, Marion?

Oh. Oh.

Oh, absolutely.

I mean, the Sanderson, who also live in
the close, they had terrible damp. It

damn near killed their mother.

And... And maybe we're making a bit too
much of a fuss over this, Jerry. No,

we're not.

So, Harvey, what are you going to do?

You look different today.

You've had a haircut.

Harvey has had an accident.

Oh, I don't know.

Oh, it's not too bad.

I mean, there's not a lot one can do
with that sort of coarse gypsy hair.

Do you mind?

My hair was quaffed at Julian's by
Julian himself.

Can we stick to the point? My father's
damp.

All right, I'll get it fixed.

Take a few months, of course.

Insurance possesses and all that, and
then it'll be summer and the heat will

probably dry it out on its own, so I'll
get on to it next autumn.

How's about that?

I want another apartment.

No, I don't think so.

But I do think so. The residency
contract states that if there are

problems in the premises, then we have
to get another place provided by the

management. That's fine.

Who do we throw out into the snow?

There isn't any snow, Harvey.

I'm saying there are no single
apartments left.

Then I'll have a double. Me too.

What? No single apartments? Then you'll
have to put me in a double. I can't do

that. Why not? Because there are no
apartments available.

I'm sorry.

Oh, there is, Harvey.

The Bailey's. That's vacant.

Since they got divorced.

Divorced? At their age?

They wanted to wait until the children
were dead.

Thank you so much.

You're fired.

This isn't like you.

You don't understand, child.

It's just another battle.

No, it's too big.

How do you mean?

I'm tired, for God's sake.

I only fight battles apart from myself.
I fight for others. No risk to myself

win or lose. I can crusade just for the
hell of it. I can chew up the odd

council. I can dance on Harvey Bain's
head. It's all kid stuff.

But I can't take on this lot.

It'll take forever.

Legal wrangling. Ten years and then
nothing. I'm too old. I haven't the

And now I haven't got the money. The
bastards have ripped it all out from

me.

You could always come and live with me.

Right now, you are living in mortal fear
that I will say, OK, I'll come and live

with you. Oh, I'm not.

It'd be hell.

Living with me has always been hell.

I would hate to chuck our delicate
relationship down the lab like that.

So what are you going to do?

I don't know.

I want to go home.

I want to see Tom again.

If I were younger, I'd get a helicopter
and a machine gun, track the bastards

down and blow them all to hell.

I bet you would, Miss Trent. As it is,
I'd probably end up gibbering on a park

bench until they shoveled my remains
into a pauper's grave.

Feeling a bit down, are we, Miss Trent?
Oh, shut your face.

Come on there, you faithful bearers. We
must reach Kilimanjaro by sunset.

What's going on?

Ah, Mensah.

Juana Ballard is moving camp.

Witch Doctor Ndingu Bane say many lions
drink here at sunset.

We must hasten. That's my lung.

Faithful pal Hemingway is letting us use
his treehouse.

Hey, that's my chair.

Diana, don't upset the bearers. Hey, put
that sofa down.

Happily.

Now, Geoffrey, what have you got to tell
me?

Um, nothing, Diana.

All right, we'll try something simple.

What? What is Marion doing?

Morning tea.

What is going on?

Oh, all this, you mean? Yes, all this.

Maybe Dad should explain.

Oh, shut up!

Then Harvey got a bit difficult, so I
said...

The damper got into your place as well,
and if he didn't get us a new place,

you'd have to bunk up with him.

He thought of four things my way after
that.

I don't believe that this is happening.

I pop out for a day, I come back, I find
that all my furniture has been

kidnapped, and some SKP from Bawane
Junction is telling me that I'm moving

with him.

I thought you might be rather pleased.

Yes, well, you thought wrong, didn't
you?

Possibly. I usually think wrong. Well,
anyway, it is a matter of complete

embuggerance to me.

I am going to be leaving here.

Oh, really?

Yes. I'm tired of this place.

Itchy feet. Time to move on.

I see.

What about me?

What about you?

Where are you going to tell me? Well, I
don't know.

Only decided today.

Just thought I might have meant
something to you, that's all.

Well.

Oh, all right.

Yes. Yes, you do, but... Well, life
moves on, doesn't it? I mean, you can't

come to a dead top because some old
bloodhound is hanging around your back

peeing over your milk bottles.

A real tough old broad, aren't you?

Yes. Yes, I am. Where will you go?

Town. I really enjoyed myself in London
today.

I can still get about.

Not such a crock as I make out.

I shall probably find myself somewhere
closed in.

Go and see films, theatres.

Dig up old pals.

Diana. Hang out in journalist pubs.

Diana, I know.

What? I know.

What do you know?

I read the letter from the receivers.

I know your skint.

You bastard.

Oh, thank you. I'm a bastard at last.

I am outraged, appalled. Your behaviour
is disgraceful.

Wonderful. I'll be a bounder yet.

I'm not joking, Tom.

You have invaded my privacy to the
utmost degree.

I'll have your balls in the ringer for
this.

Would you just take your hands off me?

Take it easy.

Oh, ow, bloody ow.

Can you stand?

Of course I can stand.

Damn blasted sodding hip.

Should have had them both done.

I won't have anyone to catch you in
London.

Get lost.

You told me to take a firmer line on my
life, so I am. Well, hooray, go away.

You are going to move in with me.

Don't be ridiculous.

I mean you're going to share with me.

There are two bedrooms. I wasn't
suggesting any beastly behaviour, except

saints' days.

Forget it.

If Harvey hears you're broke, he'll have
you down at the knackers before you can

say a pot of glue.

I like living on my own. You can't
afford it. It's precisely the double

still has to be paid for. I can pay for
that on my own. No, I am not accepting

charity. It wouldn't be.

I will be keeping accounts.

You will be running up a bill which will
have to be paid around the year 2050 or

you're out on your ear.

What is the alternative?

See? There is no alternative.

I could kill myself.

Oh, come on.

Think logically.

Certainly not.

Logic has no place in decent argument.

See? You don't have any real objections.

You would be my landlord.

Well, that's my little bonus.

You'd have to pay your share in kind.

You'd be my love slave.

Get knotted.

All right.

We'll do a deal.

Try it for a month. A month? Then you
can kill yourself.

A short month.

Fine. Oh, I don't know.

Just let's go and have a look, shall we?

At our new home.

Home? Oh.

Come on.

Oh, God.

Come to this, has it?

After all those years of taking the
world by storm, being fated, being

sleeping with 17 world leaders, all
those campaigns, all those battles, all

those gin and tonics.

Leading photojournalist, ends life
shacked up with dog -eared old golf bag.

Quite lucky, I suppose.

Well, farewell, Units 5 and 6, our
little harbours in the sea of troubles

that is Fair Bay View.

We've spent many happy and eventful
years beneath your stone turrets, behind

your stout oak and drawbridge.

But now... But now, shut up!

But now it's time to shut up.

Marianne?

Yoo -hoo!

Marianne!

It's time to go home, dear.

Geoffrey? Marianne?

What the heck is going on? I mean, what
is this? Some sort of garden party?

Antonia, will you leave her alone? Then
you get up and get lazy baggage.

Ah, Tom.

Now, what is going on?

We are moving into winter quarters.

The bearers appear to be taking a
breather. Would you mind getting on with

The place looks so dumb.

Are they? What?

Is their thing really solid?

Ow!

Oh, glorious snafu!

What? I'm SNAFU.

Should I carry you over the threshold?

Just open the door.

Diana Trent, this is your life.