All language subtitles for Love Hurts s01e01 Crawling From The Wreckage.eng

Dear Hugh, now that you have seen both
your offspring through university, may I

remind you of a conversation we had on
the terrace of the George Sank in Paris?

Spring 1984, wasn't it?

Of course I love you, Tessa, and I
promise with all my heart that once Nick

Emma have finished their education, you
and I will be together forever.

Seven years of prevarication, evasion.

Snaps, suppers, sordid sex, forgotten
birthdays, lonely Christmases. And what

makes it worse is I hate self -pity, and
here I am, wallowing in it.

I should have known.

I've seen it happen often enough with
other people.

The long -term mistress gets dumped five
minutes after the wife when the lover

takes up with this year's model.

But when I'd heard you'd left Jennifer
for a 23 -year -old perfume salesgirl

from the Georgia counter and all those
accroding, you could have pulled a

Nitz, couldn't you?

Tessa, you shouldn't be writing this.

You shouldn't be dictating it to me, for
God's sake. Why not? Everyone knows I'm

the managing director's mistress.

Was Robert.

Where was I?

Now, please, you could have pulled at
half an hour. Right, right, right. Okay.

Under the circumstances, you won't be
surprised that I hereby give the

three months' notice.

The thought of having me hang around for
13 weeks is too embarrassing. You can

bribe me to go tomorrow.

I'm copying this letter to Marshall
Baumblatt in Atlanta, Georgia.

I think your boss should know how I feel
about my boss.

Rot in hell, et cetera, et cetera.

Not now, Malcolm. I'm in conference.

You can't.

Can't what?

Copy this to Marshall Baumblatt.

Keep the ball again.

I know.

Frankly, I think being born once should
be enough for anyone.

Well, go on. Type it up.

Malcolm. So glad you could make it.

My leaving party was turning into a bit
of an anticlimax.

You know how you could have avoided all
this unpleasantness, don't you?

You could have had an affair with me
instead.

Yes.

You just don't fancy me, fair enough.

But suppose we skipped the first few
sweaty, exciting months of the

and went straight on to the comfy,
boring bits.

Early to bed with a telegraph crossword,
hot milk, winciet, gym jams.

Sorry, Malcolm.

I'm renouncing relationships.

It eats into my drinking time.

Another bottle.

What?

Sorry.

No, no, no, absolutely not. You're not
driving. I'll get you a cab. Please,

Malcolm, it's okay.

I just want to go for a very long walk.

Evening, Miss Pickett. I forgot my keys.

Sorry. Mr. Mariner said you can't come
in here anymore.

What?

He said to say he'll send your things on
to you.

Sorry.

Yes. Oh, my God!

Piggott. Tessa Piggott.

You must have some record.

She telephoned me about 20 minutes ago.

Malcolm. Tessa.

Tess.

Careful, careful. Don't touch me.

You all right?

Yes, I'm fine.

Car, the writer.

Christ, no.

Malcolm, it's only a car.

I was 150 milligrams over the limit, so
I won't need a car soon, will I? Stupid

cow. No, you cared. Yes, you did.

Come on.

The end of a perfect day.

What do you think you're doing?

I'll sleep in here. You can have my bed.

Malcolm, why do you think I didn't want
to go home?

What?

I just want some warmth next to me
tonight.

Do you mind?

Do I mind?

Nothing will happen. I give you my word.

Scout's honour.

Look, I know you think I'm an overgrown
schoolboy. I'm sorry, Malcolm. I was

teething. You're a really nice person,
Malcolm.

You decent?

Depends who you ask. How about you?

Honest, decent and truthful.

Where did you find that?

Oh,

God, I'm sorry.

It's OK, Malcolm. It's your flat. I just
never thought... Look, it's very...

Thought what?

I don't know.

Look, it's very simple. I'm single. I'm
not gay. I haven't had a girlfriend for

three years. I don't fancy the idea of
going to a prostitute.

It's OK, Malcolm. You don't have to
justify yourself. Oh, please don't give

all that this exploits women rubbish.
That's all I ask. Men like looking at

women without any clothes on. It's
normal.

I refuse to feel guilty. I know I'd
rather be a porno model than working in

Tesco's at £2 .25 an hour.

Me too.

Oh, God, I'm making a complete ass of
myself.

I'll sleep in the other room. No!

No, please.

Sorry.

A -D -N -O -K -N -O. Come on.

Hello, Mum.

I thought you were collecting me from
the station.

Was I?

Oh, sorry, I completely forgot.

Oh, never mind, there are taxis, aren't
there?

Come on in, sir.

Lovely.

No sugar.

Daddy in.

It's me, Daddy.

Tessa!

Plumcake!

Come in, come in.

I'm sorry, Daddy, I didn't realise. Oh,
you don't mind, do you, Mrs de Groot?

Hello. Oh.

Did your mother remember to collect you?

Oh, she said she had a cold coming.

Bloody hypochondriac, that's her
trouble. She looks a little run down.

Well, you look splendid, Tess.

How's the wonderful world of high
finance?

Excuse me, Doctor.

Mrs de Groot, forgive me.

This is my daughter, Tessa.

I know.

We were in the same year at the grammar.

Well, not in the same class. You were in
Alpha. I was in Beta.

I used to be Deirdre Foster.

Of course!

You used to be school long jump
champion. How are you?

Is everything all right?

Mmm, lovely.

I don't know what I should do without
Marks and Spencer.

Anything but cook.

Are we joking?

No.

Honestly, it's fine.

You don't come home often enough.

She leads a very busy lifestyle.

Why didn't you drive up? Haven't you
still got the Alpha?

I had a little accident a couple of
weeks ago.

Had you been drinking?

Marjorie. No, I hadn't.

And what cook

-chill creation have you defrosted for
pudding?

I haven't defrosted anything.

It's ice cream.

Another job?

Of course.

More media relations? More corporate
image formation?

It pays very well.

I can see it's made you immensely happy.

What do you think I should do?

You've never asked my advice before.

Yes, I have.

Not since you were 14.

Do you really want my opinion?

Yes, I do.

I think it's time you did something
useful with your life.

This world isn't going to get better all
by itself.

What are you talking about?

Do you know that the Irish Sea is the
most nuclear -polluted stretch of waste

the world?

So?

I just thought you might be interested.

But this isn't the Irish Sea.

Hello. Can I speak to Diane Warburg,
please?

Tessa Piggott. We were at Oxford
together.

I think.

Yes. Yes, I'll hold.

Oh.

A charity?

Yes.

Diane says they're in the red and they
need someone with financial notes.

It'll take an enormous drop.

Probably. The advert said salary neg.

Yes, neg for negligible.

You'd be lucky to get more than 20k.

So you're right.

Who can live on 20k?

20 people get behind a lot less.

Name one.

Mrs Bridges.

Who? Your cleaning lady.

You know what I mean.

My cousin's a deputy head. He doesn't
get 19 ,000.

Anyway, the mortgage will be much lower
in the flat and I won't be running a

car. Do you intend telling them about
your impending drink -drive conviction?

Only if they ask.

I've spent almost all my working life in
marketing, media management, and

corporate relations, and those skills
can help carve out a bigger market share

for Seed. Market share.

Yeah, that's a very interesting way of
looking at things, Debra.

But, of course, the profit and loss
account is not the most important in the

voluntary sector. Well, we do need
someone to beef up the management side,

James. Exactly, James. If I couldn't
agree more.

So, what would you say is Seed's raison
d 'etre, Mrs. Zyganski?

After all, there are dozens of
organisations, Oxfam, Christian Aid. As

the public is concerned, they all carry
out the same sort of work.

So why another one?

Seed isn't competing with these other
agencies, Tessa.

Your targets are different, of course.

But how do you raise the money for the
projects you choose to support?

Well, if I can just come in here, Jeff.

Firstly, Tessa...

Seed is a very old charity. We used to
be known as the Imperial Fund for

Colonial Relief. We received the bulk of
our money from trust funds and the

bequest. Obviously, we're not going to
make much of an impact on third world

problems. I'm sorry to butt in, Joseph,
but through the chair, I'd like to hear

a little more about Tess's practical
experience in the development field.

Yes, well, I think that interests us
all, Jeff.

Now, you did a year's voluntary service
overseas after you went to Oxford, and

since then?

I accept I'm not an expert at the
technology and politics of development,

am an expert at media management.

I hadn't heard of Seed until I saw your
advert, and neither had 19 of the 20

people I stopped in the street outside
this building this morning. Like I'm

always saying, no one knows we exist.

They know we exist in Africa.

But that's not where your money comes
from, is it?

A bit barbaric, this, isn't it?

Sitting here while they talk about us
all.

Oh, I shouldn't worry about it.

How do you feel it went?

Jeff's a dance with my greatest fan.

Jeff's all right when you get a name.

Oh, so you... I'm Bob Pierce. I'm
currently the overseas director at Seed.

Jeff works for Global Relief. We
often... You're overseas director, and

applied for the... Bit of a tradition,
really.

Overseas director, then director.

Mind you, there's no saying they won't
go outside this time.

I'm sorry to keep you all waiting.

Could you just pop back in for a minute,
please?

Hello. All work and no play.

I thought someone had left their lights
on.

Us new girls have a lot of catching up
to do.

Especially us new girls from the city.

Anyway, what are you doing out so late?

Oh, I've been working too, and I had to
stop at the late night chemist to pick

up something for my youngest.

You're married?

Yeah.

Yeah, Mrs Simon -Friedman, as any
professionally unknown is Diane Warburg.

You know, I don't actually know what you
do.

Everyone always thought you were going
to be a professor.

No, I work far more on social hours,
mostly evenings and weekends.

Don't tell me you're a football referee.

Close, I'm a rabbi.

You're not.

Oh, I know I haven't got a long white
beard, but the North West London

synagogue's very progressive.

A rabbi?

Jesus Christ.

Yes, like him, only not so charismatic.

Look, I live your way. Do you want a
lift home, or have you got a car?

I'd love a lift.

So, how are you settling in?

Go again, Clarnet?

I'm hatching a little scheme.

Just might make my dreaded city friends
reach for their wallet.

How did I get in?

A bribe the doorman?

No, I mean, how are you? You look
wonderful.

So do you.

Promotion obviously suits you.

It's you in?

He's on the telephone.

Oh, wait.

He has appointments all day.

I don't.

My sweetheart, I need five more of these
and book me a table at the Caprice.

Mr. Mariner, do you think you could
spare me five minutes of your valuable

Marshal Van Black didn't say anything
about your sordid little secret.

No. I imagine you decided senior
executives were entitled to their

lives. Or perhaps I changed my mind
about sending him that letter.

Oh, God, not blackmail.

Ridiculously gauche. I don't want much,
Hugh.

I just thought you might like to help me
in my new job.

You know, a leg up rather than a leg
over.

Oh, God.

Oh, God, not tonight, please, God, not
tonight.

Oh, damn, damn, damn.

Not tonight, oh, God, not tonight,
please, God.

That triple A plumbers.

Look.

Hello. Hello, is this Mr. L .R. Jenkins?

How many years ago?

Three years ago.

There you are, Mr Carver.

And it's a damn good little business.

Hope you appreciate that.

Yeah, I do.

First thing tomorrow, I'm going to start
selling off all this pre -war crap.

Frankly, this place is a disgrace.

It's an old, respected business.

It's old anyway.

I don't have to sell it to you anyway.

Yes, you do. We completed this morning.

I don't think he remembers you, Frank.

Eh? He must.

You remember me, don't you, Ron? That
job in that big old house in Islington

when you made me work waist deep in a
freezing filthy cesspit.

No. Of course you do.

Frank Carver.

Used to be one of your apprentices back
in the dark ages.

Listen, I've had hundreds of apprentices
in my time and I've treated them all

like crap.

The point is, did it turn you into a
decent plumber?

No, that is not the point. The point...
Anyway, it's all yours now.

You can do what you like with it.

I'm off home.

I see him not remembering you after 33
years.

Shut it, Max.

Let's go and have a drink.

Leave it.

Let it ring.

That's what you do, isn't it? Of course.

That's why you work for me.

Hello? Thank God you're there.

I have an emergency. Damsel in distress.

That waste and stuff. Of course that's a
disaster.

We'll put it off and do it yourself with
a mechanical attitude of a subnormal

fraud. We didn't install this, love.

What do you mean?

Well, you said you bought this from us.

We don't stock this model.

You fibbed, didn't you?

No, no, yes, look, no, no, look, I was
desperate.

You were the only plumber who answered
the phone. I've got a reception in me

an hour.

All right.

Go and get dressed. I'll sort it out.

Oh, you don't happen to know where you
stopped cocking, I suppose.

I beg your pardon?

Half of the course.

Yes?

It's your knight in shining boiler suit.
Can I come in?

Yes, all right.

You look very nice.

Thank you.

That dress must have cost a packet.
Bruce Oldford, isn't it?

Yes.

How did you know?

Just know his style.

Well, seeing what you must have paid for
that, I shouldn't feel so guilty about

giving you this.

Ah! You have to be joking.

No. It's all itemised.

50 quid is the emergency call -out
charge, yeah? 40 quid is the fee per

part thereof, yeah?

30 quid is the fine for fibbing about
who installed that heap of plastic

garbage. And 15p is the cost of the
washer.

Plus VAT, that's £138 .17.

Shall we call it around £140?

No, let's call it a rip -off.

£50 call -out from Tufnel Park to Tufnel
Park. What did you come in, Concord?

Look, if you don't like it, I can give
you a flood back.

You're quite immoral.

No, it's not.

It's simply the beauty of capitalism at
work.

What was going through my mind when you
were wearing that dressing gown? Now,

that, I'll admit, was immoral.

Get out. All right, all right, no
offence.

Only, well, most plush birds, you see,
they like a little bit of the old

-class baddie nose.

Just piss off.

Very good.

The vernacular down to a T.

Working?

Beg your pardon?

Sorry.

Think you're in the game with him?

Go away.

Well, I've never had to pay for it
myself.

I'm sure it must have been like the
first day of Harrod's sale for you.

Queues around the block.

Minicab stood you up, is it?

It's a brilliant guess.

Want a lift?

Thank you, but I don't want to drive
down Park Lane in a rusty transit van.

Your price is probably turbocharged.

Compact display and laser lights and a
mattress in the back.

Mattress? Why didn't I think of that?

Please just disappear.

Minicab for figures?

Yeah. Sorry I'm late. I got lost.

I ordered an executive limo.

That's right.

Are you sure you don't want to live?

Thanks.

We

all

know that Africa is suffering yet
another devastating famine right now.

all given.

You gave at the office, you gave to Bob
Geldof, you wore a red nose, you

probably still have one stacked to your
car.

So why is there still starvation?

Well, famine relief is important, but
it's no long -term answer.

That's why Seed wants you, the platinum
cardholders of Great Britain, to invest

with us in the future.

Help us to stop the next famine and the
one after that.

Help us help people to help themselves.

And that's why we thought of serious
money.

We're very grateful to Richard Whitmore,
presenter of BBC Two's Green World, for

endorsing our campaign.

And he will be talking to us later.

But first, I'd like you to meet the man
who provided our bridge to the business

community.

My erstwhile colleague and very good
friend, Managing Director of Barnblatt

Hugh Mariner.

Thank you. Actually, serious money was
Tessa Piggott's brilliant idea. I only

became involved because I knew how much
I'd enjoy twisting arms throughout the

city in a good cause.

So, Tessa, please accept this cheque for
£100 ,000 as a down payment in an

ongoing relationship between the
business community and tea.

Great speech, darling. Very effective.

Who's your friend?

Carver. Frank Carver. Nice to meet you.
Diane Wahlberg. He's not my friend. He's

just a presumptuous plumber with a
Jaguar XJF.

V12.

Mr. Piggott, Mr. Whitmore, thank you.
Thanks very much.

You've got some sort of death wish.

Something mortal, love.

I'm too nervous to eat my food.

See the colour of your money.

What? It's all for charity.

£100 a ticket plus a voluntary donation.

Is that why you brought me up here?

I'll take a check.

It's all right.

Plus the voluntary donation.

When you say voluntary... I mean
compulsory. Yeah.

You don't mind if I take two under the
circumstances, do you?

This money is for a hole in the ground
from which people who can't afford

plumber's call -out charges get water.

Well, we're digging several hundred in
Africa.

We'll name one after you for an extra
500.

You're a real bloodsucker, you are.

I'll take that as a compliment coming
from a plumber.

What are you doing tomorrow night?

I don't know. Why?

Well, I just thought you might like to
have dinner. I happen to know this very

nice three -star restaurant.

That is just fractionally cheaper than
your sandwiches.

I don't think so, thank you.

Well, what about the weekend, then?

Saturday? Are you free Saturday?

No.

I've renounced men.

They're more trouble than they're worth,
which isn't much.

I think that's good night, thank.

But why did you let me bring you home?

Because you offered.

You have a very nice car. It was raining
and there was a queue for taxis.

Well, supposing I don't want to go?

Mr Carver, you aren't the sort of man
who would force himself on a woman who

isn't interested.

You think you know everything about men,
don't you? Not everything, but I've got

your number.

No, that's only my shop.

Now, my personal line... I've heard your
personal line and it's very

predictable. Good night, Frank.

How about a quick beer, Sunday
lunchtime?

All right.

I'll have a quick beer, Sunday
lunchtime. And while I'm drinking it,

of you. Good night, Frank.

Oh, oh!

Um, before you chuck me out... What?

Could I use your loop?

Bean, do you know what time it is?

I give up. What's the answer?

It's 1 .30.

I am 49 next birthday.

50. I am allowed out after dark.

Where were you?

At the new shop. Me and Max were stock
-taking.

I had an emergency call -out. At 6 o
'clock.

Who says?

I phoned Max.

With a woman, wasn't it? I can smell her
perfume.

That's me aftershave. Coco by Chanel.

All right.

I was with a bird. A woman.

We were just talking.

She's very interesting, actually. She
runs a big charity.

God, blimey, anybody think we were
married or something?

I do live here, don't I? Don't I deserve
a bit of consideration?

Yeah, of course you do.

We were meant to be going to see Rear
Window.

Oh, blimey.

I'm sorry. I forgot.

We'll go tomorrow.

It's finished tonight.

Honestly, Dad, Mum always said you were
unreliable and I used to defend you.

Well, I don't know what all the fuss is
about.

It's out on video.

So what's the score with your serious
money stunt?

75 ,000 so far.

So you see, my big business fat cat
friends are good for something.

I never said I didn't want their guilt
money.

Oh, by the way, Tessa, there's a little
problem with the Gambian craftware.

Maybe you could advise me.

Oh, well, er... Hello, Bob Pierce.

Yeah, who's calling?

It's your mother.

Oh, sorry.

Hello, Mum, how are you?

What picture of me in the mail?

No, he's nobody.

He's just a plumber.

I don't know what all the fuss is about,
Rollers. It's no fun to drive.

I'm dying for my pleasure, not yours.

I mean, try taking a corner in this at
70.

And to impress the impressionable.

Like the owners of Matlock Hall?

Well, it worked, didn't it?

One day's car hire, great investment.

Not every day you see a school come on
the open market.

It's all right for you.

I have to wear the fancy dress.

8 .30 tomorrow morning. Can I keep the
roller another day? Got a hot day

tonight. If she's that hot, the escort
will do.

Good evening, Mr Carver. Evening,
Malcolm.

Thank you.

How did it go?

Bought it.

1 .2 million.

Oh, Frank.

That's a steal.

Well, I don't know.

Who can put a price on education?

But we will put the fees up next term.

Any calls?

Plenty. But none from her.

It's your phone.

Do you want to bet?

How much?

4 % over base rate?

When was Barclays taken over by the
Mafia?

Two and a half points.

I'll tell you what.

I'll give you 25 % off a private
education for your kids.

Here's the tenner I owe you.

Must go, Alan. My young lady's on hold.

You sabotaged my loo, didn't you?

Oh, my God.

You rat think.

Look, I'm not interested in your corny
courtship routines. I want my flushback.

Just open it.

Oh, God.

Yeah, but you can call me Frank.

New port cock.

You see, I've got a shrewd suspicion
that some joker has bent your old one

out of shape.

Just fix it.

Oh, first we've got to discuss my fee.

You're what? Well, I've got to earn a
living.

Still. As you're a valued customer. I
know what's coming.

No, no, no, no. I don't want money.

No. You want a date.

Well, you've been wasting your time.
I've decided to become a virgin. I'd

pay you, thanks to all the fame.

You're no fun.

Hey, did you see that picture of us in
the Daily Mail?

My secretary reckons we make a lovely
couple.

I don't want to know.

Made a big impression on the Reverend
Wormwald as well.

Who?

The owner of Matlock Hall.

Established 1845.

Your old school?

No, my new one, actually.

I bought it this morning.

You bought a school?

I thought you were a plumber.

Well, you've got to have more than one
string to your bow, haven't you?

Of course.

The Reverend was a bit worried that he
might be selling his college to some

South London asset strip.

But when I showed him our photo, he
realised that my fiancée was a big noise

the charity game.

Look.

You're what?

Are you all right?

You've gone a funny colour.

Come into the kitchen. I'll make you a
nice cup of tea.

If you analyse it, the whole thing's
actually quite bizarre.

Yeah. Seems perfectly natural to me.

You're a teenager, perhaps, but you're
how old?

It's rude to ask a girl's age.

I'm 41.

Your turn.

48.

Old enough to know better.

Oh, look.

All I want to do is ask you out for
dinner or something.

But why?

Why are you interested in me?

Because you're a very attractive lady.

Yes, I know.

Look, there seems to be some
misunderstanding here. Let's recap.

You came to fix my bar.

Having been summoned out on fourth
pretenses.

You spent at least half your time trying
to look up the gap in my dressing gown.

Oh, you noticed?

And then you started this absurd pick
-up routine.

And to what end?

All right, all right.

Suppose we did go out together. And
suppose we had a reasonable time.

No doubt you'd expect the usual sexual
quid pro quo.

Oh, I love it when you talk dirty.

The only reason you're interested in me
is that I am not interested in you.

And your totally conventional male ego
is struggling to reassert itself.

There's nothing wrong with my ego.

No? Are you sure?

Seems pretty fragile to me if it can't
cope with the occasional rebuff.

Oh, so that's it then.

You know exactly what I'm thinking. You
know beyond any shadow of doubt that I'm

only interested in you as an object of
conquest.

Rather than because actually you're
quite an interesting bird.

Which casts a shadow over your ego, if
you ask me. All right, all right, all

right. There's only one way to settle
this.

Absolutely. Saturday, 8 o 'clock.

No, Sunday, 7 .30.

Why?

Why not?

I'm doing once for half one, OK?

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

You know, I've got to buy the boys a
drink after.

A drink?

I do sponsor the team.

Only because you're too old to get a
game otherwise.

You looking forward to tonight?

Yeah, of course.

When did I tell you?

Tell me what?

I bought the tickets weeks back.

You've forgotten, haven't you?

No.

Look, hang about. I'm your father. Come
to university in London, you said. Never

mind, you don't know anybody. I'll
always be around.

Well, normally I am, but... But what?

Come on, you're supposed to be good at
thinking on your feet.

It's that school deal.

There's something wrong with the head
lease.

Rubbish, Dad. Why don't you just admit
you've got some bird lined up?

Count them!

Hello?

Oh, hi.

They?

No, he's on Hackney Marshes playing
football, trying to recapture his lost

youth. Tessa.

Tessa. Can you tell him I can't make
tonight? Fine, I'll tell him.

Me? I'm his wife.

Hello? Hello?

That'll teach him.

Tessa! You're not stirring the bath, are
you?

Tessa!

Please leave your message after the
tone.

Gambia?

I said Langlands.

You have to understand, there are simple
solutions.

I'm not suggesting there are.

And then, of course, there's the
question of local commissions.

You mean bribes?

No.

Look, Miss Pigott, if you want to import
Gambian handicrafts, you have to pay

the merchants.

The merchants aren't supplying me. The
cooperatives are.

But the merchants don't like the
cooperatives.

Why can't we just bypass the merchant?

And cut out the middleman, I should say.
You can't cut out the middleman.

He's the one that makes the world go
round.

I'll take that, thank you.

I thought we had a dinner date.

Love hurts.

It can lead to crying.

Love hurts.

It can turn you upside down Oh, how love
hurts So if it's just

a game that you're playing You'd better
know that

Love hurts There's no doubt about it
Love

hurts But who can live without it? Oh,
how love hurts

So you'd better run and hide But
remember,

love hurts you just the same.

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