All language subtitles for Strathblair s01e06 Visitations.eng

Have I got to?

Yes, you have.

Can you not go? No.

I've got far too much to do here.

What's wrong?

You're not scared of a wee old woman in
her eighties, are you?

Any chance of some breakfast this
morning?

I thought I heard something just now.

I thought there was somebody else here.

You're not going to go all fee on me,
are you? Not when I'm dying of hunger.

Honestly, as if I haven't got enough to
do, I'm getting the place ready for Pam

and Freddie.

There must be a taxi service somewhere.

I rather think there isn't, you know.

I said, do you have to know how we can
get to... Horrybeg.

Horrybeg.

Go in the back, I saved you.

wrong with your breakfast?

No, no, it looks very good.

I'm assuming there's no ground glass in
it.

Not this time.

Come on, Jenny, talk to me, please.

Throwing away money that we don't have
at the Ralph?

Are we disgusted? We're fighting with
Umberto outside that wretched pub!

Typical of Jennifer.

You feeling better?

I'm off.

You're not even going to be here when
they're alive.

Well, I can't. Those fences up in the
hill won't mend themselves.

Anyway, they're your friends. It's you
they want to see.

Especially Freddy.

What do you mean?

You know.

We went around together when we were
children, that's all.

We were in the pony club together.

Better go and see to those fences.

You should laugh.

Never missed a show yet, and I'm not
starting now.

And how was your journey?

What are you hanging about for?

I went and put my case up in my room.

Please, Umberto.

Why did he not go back to Italy when the
other eye -ties did?

Because he works for me, that's why.

Because somebody somewhere's forgotten
his existence, you mean.

Your cousin Jamie would give his eye
teeth for a job like that once.

Instead, he's got to go labouring in the
town.

Jamie would be glad to work here, you
know.

Aye, maybe he would, Auntie Isabel.

Maybe he would.

And don't think I haven't noticed that
you're still smoking.

This is when you left Wiltshire far
behind.

Just thought I'd look in and say welcome
to Corrybeg. How are you?

Busy.

Hello, Pamela.

Will you have some tea?

I'll take one with me. I'm short of just
one stall.

Well, Alec, you certainly won't be
troubled by neighbours around here, will

Don't you be too sure.

Yes, a better place like this is an
absolute hotbed of family feuds.

Blood vendettas.

There's this old boy up the hill called
Macrae.

His grandson moved in with him recently
and they can't stand the sight of one

another. You only have to mention young
Robert to Macrae and he positively

growls.

Isn't that just the accent around these
parts?

I'll just go and get on with the fences.

What was that old chap? I think he was
just growling, Freddie.

Please don't be touchy.

They are my oldest friends.

And they won't be here forever.

I'm sorry.

I know.

And I'm sorry too.

Bad timing.

There's a woman.

See?

Aye, and she's a strong woman.

But she's carrying a burden that's too
heavy for her.

Aye, that must be me, all right.

Oh, it is you.

But my, oh, my.

Who have we here?

Who am I supposed to be looking at?

That blob?

That blob is the man in your life.

God forbid.

Oh, there's no two ways about it.

There's a man on the horizon.

Aye, and that's where they always stay,
too.

So tell me, who is this tall, dark
stranger, Auntie Isabel?

Who is he?

He could even be a foreigner.

Oh, goody! I'm going to marry a pygmy
from darkest Africa.

When you've quite finished, Euphemia.

The other person that fits that
description is, of course, that useless

of yours.

Oh, aye.

You mention it, so you do.

Tell me, is what the gossips and the
fishwife say about you and him the

or is it not?

You tell me, Auntie Isabel.

You're the one with the second sight.

He is a rather good -looking chap.

What did you say you'd entered him for?

Island pony section.

Go on.

It's for working ponies, really.

But I think he's got a real chance. It
depends on the others.

There might not be too much competition
in a small place like this.

Do you mind if I ask you a question?

Go ahead.

I hope you won't be offended.

You're not going to insult my beautiful
pony.

Don't you listen.

Well, not to put too fine a point on it,
how long do you think you'll be able to

stand it here?

I'm sorry.

It's just not quite the way you
described it when we were at home.

Or maybe it is. Maybe I got the wrong
impression.

I never imagined anywhere could be so
remote, so isolated.

I mean, yes, it's quite splendid in its
way, but... I know.

Don't you ever feel a little cut off?

Days on is raining.

And the sky's like lead.

And there isn't another soul to be seen
for miles.

I wonder what possessed me.

Give it time.

It'll work out.

I'm sure it will.

I want it to.

Change isn't easy.

Look at me and Freddy.

I literally keep forgetting I'm married
to him.

How's that working out?

Oh, Freddy's a sweetheart.

But he's such a twit sometimes, it's
infuriating.

But then you know.

It needs two people.

That ought to do it.

Thanks, Umberto.

No problem.

No hard feelings.

No hard feelings.

Well, my jaw aches for a week.

Sempre amici.

Sempre amici.

What brings you up here?

I'm in a run. It's training for the hill
race.

Plus I'm trying to get out of the way of
the old witch.

Pimi's great auntie. She's visiting and
she's an old witch.

Well, they're not the only one with
visitors they could do without.

You'll ruin that pastry.

He'll kill it stone dead.

Bad feelings when you're cooking go into
the food, spoil the taste.

And how come your cakes win all the
prizes?

What's put you in such a mood, may I
ask?

Nothing, Auntie Isabel, nothing. Was it
me mentioning the gossip about you and

the Orriman?

If so, I'm sorry.

But all I told you was the truth.

They say he's your fancy man.

Let them say whatever they like. I'm not
bothered.

No? Then why are you in such a temper?

Ah, well, I suppose it's just your age.

This is just like being back in the pony
club, isn't it?

Do you remember that time I came off in
that ditch full of mud?

It wasn't just mud.

You stank to high heaven all the way
home.

Do you remember that time we took the
ponies to that hospital fate?

People kept giving us money.

We were naughty keeping it. I'm sure
they meant it to go to the hospital

We were just a pair of thieves.

Have you got a hoof pick?

Somewhere.

Who's there?

Is anybody there?

Who are you talking to?

What?

Can't you hear it?

Hear what?

The sound.

It's like someone crying, a woman.

I can't hear anything.

Every time I come in here, I hear it.

I feel sort of sadness.

Didn't you hear that?

No, I didn't. Where's the hoof pick?

like a walk.

Mm -hmm.

When you go then?

Will you not come too?

No, I've got plenty to get on with here.

Ah, well.

Maybe I'll not bother then.

All right, you win.

I can't stand it when you look at me
like that.

Do you want to go anywhere in
particular?

Well, maybe down towards Corrie Bay. Oh,
aye. So you can give the new tenants

the once -over, eh?

Maybe. I'm surprised at you.

How many eggs?

Um... Take three eggs.

Good God.

Haven't they heard of rationing?

Only three?

Well, they're probably stingy.

Well, you may die of boredom round here,
but you'll certainly be a well -fed

corpse.

Oh, dear.

I think five may make it a bit gooey.

Probably.

Still, too late now.

Yes, too late now.

Personally, I've always felt I wasn't
put on this earth to make cake.

This is all part of the job description,
is it?

Farmer's wife bakes cakes, enters them
in contests at the local show.

Yes.

Well, sort of the done thing.

The WRI, like women who join in.

The WRI?

God, Jennifer, how can you stand it?

It's not that bad.

It's like a grown -up version of the
Pony Club, really.

Rubbish. The Pony Club was about having
fun, not about comparing wretched sponge

cakes. Well, they do lots of other
things.

Are these two members of the grown -up
pony club or the local coven?

Spectacular views you have here.

Aye.

Mind you, it must get terribly lonely
for poor old Jenny.

No, I don't think so.

I think it does.

Jenny's very gregarious.

Always has been since I've known her.

And I met her when she was ten or so.

You made it really lovely in there,
Jennifer.

Doesn't shanty a spell?

Well, not my taste.

But anything had to be an improvement.

This place was no better than a sheep
flank a year ago. What, the right cosy

place now?

Apart from the spooky noises in the
cowshed.

What's that?

Don't be silly.

Jennifer thinks she can hear someone
crying whenever she goes into that barn.

Sure, it's just my imagination.

This is where you've been hidden since?

Yes.

Brilliant, isn't it?

When do your friends leave?

Tuesday.

Nice, isn't it?

It's an antique.

I thought I might clean it up and hang
it somewhere.

Well, we'd best be off.

Maybe we should have told her. No.

Not right now.

Not when she's expecting.

Now's not the time.

Clyde's got her.

Oh, what's this then?

I'm putting it into the show.

I only wish I was making it for one of
my own kith and kin.

You, for example.

Well, why not?

Or are you going to go on living in sin
with that eye tie?

Well, well, well.

Talk of the devil and he'll appear.

Everybody hungry?

I'll say.

The air around here certainly gives you
an appetite.

Can you bring that?

Isn't that lovely of them?

Your very good health.

So, what happens at this show, then?

Lots of things.

There are classes for cattle and sheep.
I wouldn't have thought they had a lot

to learn.

I'm not to get pleased.

Shut up, Freddie.

And then there's Highland dancing and
games and farm produce.

Baking. She's been baking all afternoon,
would you believe it?

Heaven forbid.

I remember some appalling things you
baked once years ago. What were they

supposed to be?

Rock cakes.

The aptly named rock cakes.

You're going to kill the man.

Thank you.

Dear Lord, for what we are about to
receive, make us truly thankful.

Miserable. Thinner though we may be.

Amen. My God, what a hypocrite.

Are you talking to me?

All that palaver about making the sign
of the cross and there's your plate

heaped with meat.

What am I supposed to eat? Grass?

Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but had I
heard that those of Catholic persuasion

never eat meat on a Friday.

Is it a Friday today?

Aye, it is.

He's got special dispensation, haven't
you?

Eh? Ah, yes, I have got special
dispensation.

From whom? The Pope?

No, Father McConnell.

Very nice man.

And for what reason has he given you
this special dispensation?

For the hillbilly.

Come on.

Eat up, your food will get cold.

Not hanging anymore.

Now, come on.

You need to keep your strength up.

For his fornication tonight, no doubt.

What did you say?

Never you mind.

Auntie Isabel was just making a wee
joke.

Though not a very funny one, I have to
say.

What on earth is this?

The best... Polished shoe competition.

Ah, that's for me.

Not many people can polish a shoe the
way I can.

Boarding school and the army and all
that.

Why don't you go in for the hill race?

The hill race?

What would I have to do?

Just run up a hill and down the other
side. Easy.

What's the catch?

There isn't one.

Do you think I should? It's up to you,
my sweet.

You don't have to, Freddie.

It's quite some hill we're talking
about. It's more like a mountain.

Well, I'm pretty fit, I think.

Yes, I'm game. Why not?

Well, I'd say we were in with a chance.

Right. I'll go and put my hat on.

Don't you come near this table or touch
anything with your dirty mitts.

Am I allowed to look?

Well, I suppose I can't stop you.

Did you say something to him better just
now?

Me? No.

Well, he doesn't look in a very good
mood.

It's because he's a foreigner.

They're like that.

Temperamental.

I feel like I've died and woken up in
hell.

Are you asking for sympathy?

Can I expect any?

Certainly not.

You behaved appallingly last night,
drinking twice as much wine as anybody

and then goading Freddie into entering
the hill race.

I'm sorry.

Do you still love me?

Not getting off that easily, Mr.
Ritchie.

I wonder if this hill race is such a
good idea.

Well, why not?

You used to be a runner, didn't you?

Well, more of a sprinter.

Well, if you don't want to do it, don't
do it.

Yes, but I'd feel such an awful fool
saying I'd changed my mind.

It's up to you, Freddie, my sweet.

He is looking so smart.

Pretty as a picture.

Just going to walk off with first
-prisiness.

Stranger things have happened.

Congratulations, Valerie.

See, he does it again.

Does he always win?

Because no one knows more about sheep
than he does.

An announcement for all competitors in
the beef cattle section.

Please bring your beast to the judging
area as soon as possible.

Competitors in the beef cattle section.

Oh, look, how sweet.

If you have a little girl, maybe she'll
do that one day.

I say, who's that?

Andrew Mingy, the laird's son.

Is he spoken for?

No, but you are.

I told you, I keep forgetting.

We'll just let that cross for a wee
half.

Oh no, Freddy!

Not a drink before you run in the race.
Just a quick one. I'd like a chance to

talk to Major Mingus.

Major Mingus?

My wife, Pamela. Major Mingus. How do
you do?

Seems he and I have something in common.

That then caused during the war.

Brilliant. What was that?

Intelligence.

Intelligence? Yes.

Didn't have the brains for anything
else.

I saw exactly.

Well, look, come on. Quick snifter. I
can't play along. I'm stewarding a

pony pastor.

Pam, keep judging.

Be honest now.

He didn't look quite that bad this
morning.

Not quite.

I think I'm going to die of
embarrassment.

I suspect he's been deliberately
sabotaged.

It's her.

She's put a hex on your cake.

And as so often in previous years, I'm
pleased to announce... that the first

prize has been taken by that well -known
character, Miss Isabel Robertson.

Well done, Miss Robertson.

Black magic, I'd say.

Oh, what's wrong?

You're not upset at not winning, are
you? I know.

I just feel as though sometimes I'm not
very good at anything. You put in our

many eggs.

I know.

I got carried away.

Anyway, you're young.

Young girls like you shouldn't be too
bothered about baking or winning prizes.

You leave that to the old ones like me,
there'll be precious little else to live

for.

You never considered staying in after
the war?

Oh, I considered it, but no.

Up for a duller life. Don't want to pack
up and go overseas at the drop of a

hat. Especially not now.

What career, you mean? No.

The lovely wife. Wouldn't be fair to
her.

She's Mrs. Ritchie's oldest friend, I
believe.

Yes, yes, that's right.

Another alley?

What about you, Frederick?

I shouldn't. Not if I'm actually going
to do this rash thing.

The hill race.

Oh, oh, go on. One for the van.

Can I have your attention, please?

We've a wee lad here.

His name's Hamish. Aye. And he's a bit
upset... So, folks, if you're looking

Hamish, he's being well cared for at the
police tent.

And that's just next door to the scouts.
Thank well.

And what might you want?

Just what I say.

Glad you won again.

Well, this chap has always done me
proud.

And all that coat -breaking stuff,
remember?

Yeah. I still can't look at the Times
Crossword without trying to decipher any

information. Gentlemen taking part in
the hill race.

Please make yourselves known to the
stewards.

Just to remind you that the working
horse section will be judged shortly in

main ring.

Oh, God, that one's terribly handsome.

Rubbish. I've had a good look at him. He
looked a bit fickle -hopped to me.

He looked very good to me. I didn't say
he wasn't. I just said he isn't perfect

either.

Either?

A final call for competitors in the hill
race.

To the start, please, gentlemen.
Freddie!

Freddie!

There you are. I thought you'd forgotten
about me. Oh, as if I would.

Silly Billy.

On your mark.

Cool thing.

Well, what are you waiting for?

Judging in the working horse section is
underway at the main ring.

And this will be followed by the men's
tug -of -war.

Good luck.

Can you

see?

Her eyes hadn't let me once wear it.

Can't I see much either?

Well?

Bert has gone great guns.

If he keeps this up, he'll win the race
for sure.

Well, you can stand here missing
everything that's going on if you want.

Start to take a walk around.

I don't know about you, but the suspense
is killing me.

Change these two, would you?

Special prize. This is the first time
Mrs. Richards can do this.

Oh, I'm sorry, Lappy.

It's just a wee thing common. He'll make
a grand horse on the cross, but it's

hardly she'll be.

And just watch that bit. It might be all
right for a pony club, but it's no use

in looking harnessed. And better luck
next time.

Thank you.

Well, she's got a fourth prize.

Sure.

Fourth prize is... Fourth prize.

Ladies and gentlemen, the hill race
runners are in sight again and on their

home. But you've a decision to make, I'm
afraid.

Because at the same time, the men's tug
-of -war final will be decided in the

main ring.

Who's winning?

I don't know.

Certainly isn't Freddie.

In fact, I can't even see him.

So, no more stewarding for you?

No. All finished.

Done my duty.

I hope Mrs Ritchie wasn't too
disappointed.

Well, if I'd been judging, I'd have
placed them in exactly the same order.

You know about these things, then, do
you?

I know a bit about horses, yes.

Not so sure when it comes to men,
though.

I think Freddy would be a bit of a long
shot for Cheltenham.

Right, boys, up rope!

Keep the strain!

And who?

what you put me in mind of?

Your mother.

I remember her and I at the school
together.

Run.

She was like a hare.

Nobody could catch her.

Not even the boys.

You knew my mother?

Oh, aye.

We were best friends.

The hill race is finished and the
results are as follows.

Just make the cake, eh?

So, all that hearing about in the hills
paid off then?

One thing to thank the old witch for,
eh? You didn't happen to see my husband

your travel, did you?

Easy, devils!

That wasn't too bad then, was it?

Having visitors?

No, it was fine.

It'd be just as nice, though, when it's
just the three of us.

Rona. The spirit that's been haunting
you, her name was Rona

Hepburn.

Do you remember me, Rona?

Yes, Spell Robertson.

If you mind me, all right.

Now, don't worry.

Spirits mean no harm.

Just a pest where they cannae find their
way through to the other side.

Who was she, this Rona? A poor soul that
worked here 60 years ago.

She used to milk the cows for the
tenant, a man they called Ferguson.

Aye, poor, poor Rona.

Why do you keep saying that?

Well, some of us never find a resting
place in this life.

We aye want to be elsewhere.

Rona was like that.

Wasn't exciting enough for her here.

So one day she just upped and went to
Edinburgh.

Not a word of warning.

Left the beast standing in the field,
lolling to be milked for Ferguson to

when he came down off the hill that
evening.

Aye, you were a bad girl, Rona.

Three years later she was back.

Just as suddenly.

But whatever happened to her when she
was away, she wasn't right in the head

when she came back.

Do you mean she went mad?

Ah.

But harmless.

She went about saying that she was
secretly married to an Earl.

and that he'd be sending for her soon,
and then she would live in a palace.

But she had to wait, because the Earls
family were plotting against her.

Now, nobody's sure of the truth, but it
seems that when she was in Edinburgh,

she was in service to a rich family, and
then the son got her pregnant.

The family put her out in the streets.

Awful.

It was common practice then.

Some call them the good old days, but I
don't.

And I bet you don't either, eh, Rona?

Ben the Ben was born dead, so she didn't
even have that.

She had nothing.

But Ferguson took pity on her and gave
her back her old job.

Thank heaven somebody was good to her.

There were one or two of us.

But not enough, eh, Rona?

Not enough to heal the hurt in you.

Well, five years passed.

Rona's Earl never sent for her, of
course.

So she tended the beast by day and cried
herself to sleep at night.

Until one day, Ferguson came down off
the hill and what did he find?

The cattle.

Glowing in the field, unmelted and
unattended, just as it had been the day

Rona ran away to Edinburgh.

And had she run away?

Aye.

For good.

She hanged herself with one of the beams
up yonder. Oh!

Rona, I've come to help you.

Trust me now. No.

Stop him for he hears.

Take the strength you need.

And depart in peace.

So it won't be long before I join you.

Go.

Now.

to stay here.

This house hates me. It'll drive me mad
as it did her.

The house did nothing.

It was people that drove Rona to kill
herself.

The house is only trying to tell you its
secrets. And you don't tell your

secrets to somebody you hate, do you?

You tell them to somebody you've begun
to trust.

So don't you betray that trust by
running away.

Because you've felt like it sometimes,
haven't you?

Sometimes. Well, don't.

There are great things in store for you
here.

You'll see.

Now, are you going to give me a cup of
tea or not?

Yes, of course.

I hope I can find you a biscuit or
something.

Pamela and Freddie have eaten us out of
house and home.

It was like a descent to the local.

You could aye offer me a piece of your
cake.

I gave it to Monty, actually.

He quite enjoyed it.

No accounting for tasty.

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