Original subtitles

Love is like a butterfly, soft and gentle as the sky. The

multicolored moods of love are like a bad wind.

Love makes your heart feel strange inside. It flutters like soft winds in

flight. Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing.

It's impossible.

Tell the sun to leave the sky.

Oh, boy, all that pain.

Hey, Dad, could you cut down on the cabaret and concentrate with the rest?

We're not pushing our luck. It's just that we know as long as you're still

singing, you haven't got round to cleaning your teeth yet.

I like singing.

I don't do a lot of it because there's not a lot to sing about.

But today, in spite of the odds building up against me, I shall sing.

You will notice I did not slam the door.

I did not display agitation.

I did not... Whose bathrobe has he got on?

His. Yours.

Tell him to take it off. He has one of his own. I'm wearing his. Then where is

yours? Mum's wearing mine.

Where does that leave me?

Mum's negligee, I guess.

to be ashamed of.

Anatomically, we have a lot to thank you for.

Yeah, yeah, but he's naked here in this house. In this house?

I could always take him next door.

Rumpel, Freddy.

Rumpel, you haven't got any clothes on. Do you know that?

Yeah, that's okay. I know.

I hope it's only temporary and not a new trend.

There must be something wrong with me. I'm living in a world I don't

Yeah, great, isn't it?

the menu today. Adam's car's kind of expired.

Yes, all right. I'm doing nothing in particular.

Ria? Yes?

Have you nothing to say on the subject?

What subject?

The subject of Russell standing there naked.

Well, I hadn't thought about it.

Well, think about it.

Well, what can I say?

He's just the same as when he was little.

Except now he's big.

The nudity, Ben, only shocks me when it's my own.

And if you're thinking of retaliating by charging about this house with nothing

on, please don't. You'll only upset the cat.

I bet he's steaming at me tiles.

Going too fast for you, sir?

No, Thomas.

Life that's going too fast for me.

Life.

Where did you say this cafe was, sir? Hood Street.

And the name, sir?

The cafe.

That's what it's called.

Not a wildly inventive name, but the food makes up for it.

Are you married, Thomas? I forget.

I am, sir, yes. Two kids, son and a daughter, and a... And a bull terrier,

I remember.

Mine left me.

I'm sorry, sir?

My wife, she left.

Very regrettable, sir. Very regrettable.

No warning, no build -up.

Just a salad and a net.

Not salad myself, sir.

Just a salad, though. You know.

It breaks my heart to do this. Thank you for all those lovely years. Your socks

are in the airing cupboard, all that.

I thought it was a joke.

Then I noticed half the furniture was missing.

She left me the tortoise.

I don't know much about tortoises, sir.

They're not a lot of fun.

She ran off with my best friend.

Dangerous things, best friend, sir.

They've been meeting in my flat.

He'd been using my shower, my towel, my bathrobe, my... I should like to turn

left here, if you don't mind, sir.

Sorry.

Sorry. Thank you, sir.

I'll be 45 tomorrow.

An alarming experience, sir.

I did ten press -ups this morning.

Well, I managed the first one.

But I lower my stomach and imagine the rest.

Being 50 is even worse, sir.

Being 50 is rather like being the family car.

It's a well -polished body, but a clapped -out engine.

I don't have a family.

None to laugh over, none to cry over, sir.

None to spend your birthday with.

I'd like you not to do that, sir, if you don't mind.

Unless, of course, you're in the throes of a heart attack or you have been shot.

Just pull over, Thomas.

It's a friend's car. I'll be with you in a minute. I just want to leave her a

message.

You got something to say to us?

I... No.

I was just leaving a note. I mean, that's all.

It is my birthday tomorrow.

How about lunch?

That's really nice of you.

We're going to have to decline on the grounds that Mum said we should never

to strangers, you know.

It was a mistake.

It's OK.

It's OK.

It's nothing.

It's unimportant.

Sure. Sure.

I guess you'll just have to change your image, sunshine.

Hey, wasn't that the bloke who followed us the other day? Said he thought it was

a friend's car.

Dead right.

Do you suppose Mum's leading a double life?

Oh, no way.

Mum's problem is not only does she look good, she is good.

It sure is a problem.

Why do you like this kind of music?

Because it's men, all going on about the same thing, united in their opinion,

not a woman in sight.

I'd like to talk to you, but they make me feel outnumbered.

Switch it off, then.

What I have to say is a lot, but if I say a lot, you won't listen, so I'll

say a little bit of the lot.

I like it here, at night,

when the boys have gone out.

I like it when we're alone.

Hmm. So do I.

It's very easy to lose sight of what's important, isn't it?

It is, yes, indeed.

I mean, basically, we're the same two people, you and I, the same as before we

were married. The only difference is that now we have a family.

Intrusions, discussions.

Rows.

I'm trying to say that even before we always had this, a room.

There's a tea, a fire, teeth.

When the boys are out, we should take advantage of these moments, Ben.

Yes.

We should be romantic.

Try to get back to where we were.

Mrs. Wainwright, before I straightened her teeth.

Who's that?

Mrs. Wainwright after I straightened her teeth.

She looks much better.

What was I saying?

Something about being romantic, taking advantage of being alone and getting

to where we were.

I've already analysed it all. What you're trying to say is let's make love

the fatigue.

Well, you needn't be quite so clinical about it.

You sound like a surgeon.

I've examined your tonsils. We'll remove them tomorrow.

I know why you won't make love on the sofa.

Because of one little incident years ago.

It was not one little incident. It was a major catastrophe.

I'd forgotten that one of the boys had borrowed a key.

When I looked up, and found I was in the company of a pop singer, a drummer and

a lead guitarist.

Spontaneity packed its bags and fled.

We're never going to do anything outrageous again.

We're going to walk along that narrow little footpath with its notices saying,

don't tread here and don't tread there, trespassers will be assassinated.

They've gone to a party.

An all -night party.

Come on, then.

Let's go to bed.

Oh, I don't want to go to bed. I want to do something wild, something different.

We'll go to bed and do something wild, something different.

I ought to feel intriguing.

I want to pretend that we're meeting.

All right.

You go up to bed, and I'll go out to the garden and swarm up the drainpipe.

You're not understanding. You're deliberately not understanding.

I want to feel... I want to feel... intriguing.

I want to feel... illegal.

You mean you want to feel unmarried?

You caught this from Adam and Russell, didn't you?

They go plundering and pillaging through life. Suddenly the confines, the

respectability of marriage seems dull by comparison.

Yes, it's hard.

Watching them being young and running free.

When I was Adam's age, I was pregnant.

When I was Russell's age, I was pregnant again.

I spent the finest years of my life looking like a rugby ball.

Do you think I wouldn't love to be young and free?

Able to cram the lower part of my body into half a yard of denim.

Then why don't you?

Because I'm a bloody fool, that's why.

All that groping and giggling that goes on out there in the potting shed, do you

think I wouldn't love to be part of that?

No, those days are gone for us. Why?

Why are they gone?

Why can't we go to the potting shed? What is stopping us?

Dignity. A dignity forced upon us by time.

Besides, if I was going to do something as outrageous as that, I'd need a

month's notice and central heating installed.

I don't understand.

Last birthday, you were 47.

Now, just one year later, you're at least 90.

You're not jealous of your sons, are you? Of course I'm jealous.

Not the green -eyed, evil jealous, just the gentle, wish -I'd -been -born

-later, why -did -I -miss -it -all jealous.

Now, you.

I have to worry about you.

When you can't see it, brah, you're packed. Passion -proof lip gloss and

stuff you use on your face that's guaranteed to stay put through several

of rape.

I'm trying to tell you, I don't feel old.

I feel as if I'm at some sort of beginning.

I lie in bed at night, pleased.

Pleased about tomorrow.

But you just lie there, checking your pulse and being amazed that your heart's

still beating.

Oh, I have this electric excitement. excitement inside me and i want to share

with you but it's like throwing a ball for a tortoise and saying fetch it

might as well go to bed then

You know, Mrs. Wainwright, I could have sworn that something wild and different

was going to happen today.

What was it you wanted me to do again, sir?

Just knock on the door, and if a man answers... Her husband.

Her husband, yes. You simply say you're sorry you got to the wrong house.

Now, if she answers... His wife.

Yes, if his wife answers, you give her this note.

That's it. That's all. Mission over.

Do you think this is wise, sir?

Well, no, of course it isn't wise. It's stupid.

The wise thing to do would be to have lunch by myself tomorrow.

Surely there must be other people in your life with whom you can spend your

birthday. Hundreds, Thomas, hundreds.

Look, when you were young and someone offered you a big bag of sweets, did you

ever gaze inside and see just out of reach the one that you really wanted?

The one with the silver wrapping and the hazelnut in the middle?

But rather than the embarrassing struggle, you put your hand in the bag

pulled out the nearest one, the one with the orange -coloured putty in the

middle.

Well? Tomorrow, I'm 45.

The world is my bag of sweets.

And I'm going to have that embarrassing struggle.

I'm going to pull out of that bag the one with the silver wrapping.

I won't eat it, of course.

Just squash it a bit and put it back.

I don't realise, are you? I mean, it's only a meal.

The whole universe is full of men and women having meals together. Now, go on.

I would be glad, sir, if you don't mind, on my future late -night duties, to be

doing something a little more innocent.

Yes, it's all right. Go, go.

You coming up, then?

Yes,

please.

That's the legs.

This is hardly the correct thing to do,

is it, sir?

When people turn the light out, they're usually either going to bed or... But

it's only ten past ten.

Baby!

Come back to me my loving baby!

Oh, boy.

Either of those will do me. Just take your pick. I'll take Alison. She's got

style. I'll take Joanne. She's got boobs.

I get bored of those.

I mean, they're all right for a while, but I don't go for too much of them

around the house.

Certainly brighten up breakfast, though.

Just a minute. Just a minute.

Oh, hi, Mum.

That was a really nice meal you cooked us, by the way. Yes, and that's a really

nice mess you've left me, by the way.

Oh, well, we've got this phone call that we've got to make to this guy.

Russell!

Now, I know it's a well -worn speech delivered daily.

And I know that every time I make it, you threaten to leave home and have your

pictures in the have -you -seen -these -boys column. She's going to flip again.

I am not going to flip again.

I have never flipped. I do not know how to flip. I am unflippable.

The only time I am remotely in danger of flipping is when somebody mutters,

she's going to flip again!

Your girlfriend arrived this morning just as I had got up.

They arrived with the post and before the milk.

They loitered on the landing waiting for you to get up and completely unnerved

your father by telling him he had erotic eyebrows.

They ate all my food, drank all my coffee, then left me for dead in that

kitchen. Well?

Well, when you put it like that, they do sound pretty unattractive.

Hmm. Now, I don't mind the space in my cupboard where tomorrow's lunch was. And

I don't mind my sponge cake being referred to as Dunlopillow's Delight.

I don't even mind... Mum, as you don't mind about anything, we'll leave you to

it.

Now, don't panic.

Dishes are a fact of life.

Not a very interesting fact.

But nevertheless, a fact.

When you get married, your life takes on three extra dimensions.

You coped.

Instead of having a mess over there, you've got it over here.

Speak

of those

girls.

Filling this house with their thin thighs and their hardly used

faces.

Threatening my sons with their chests.

Oh, my God, those chests.

Mother Nature must have put a bit of overtime in on that lot.

And they're so aggressive.

I mean, there's no gentleness, no femininity.

When I was young, a woman with a deep, mysterious pool, a man had

to dip his toe in first, and then wade out carefully and

gently.

Now they just dive in. They don't even bother to put their swimming trunks on.

Oh, it's all so unsubtle and disgusting and degrading and...

I've got to...

I'm running out of ideas, Thomas.

And a wholemeal.

33p.

And a Scotch brown. No Scotch brown.

Any other sort of brown? Welsh? English?

Wheatmeal, wheat germ, high brown and rye.

Yes, please.

195.

You deliver to Mrs.

Parkinson, don't you? I seem to remember her saying... We deliver to three, Mrs.

Parkinson. Ah.

Well, this one, she's got a funny little... Well, she's got hair and

married, two pleasant sons, very pleasant husband, nice man, super guy,

friend. Radcliffe clothes.

Yes, that's it.

Well, I have this note, you see, and I'd like her to receive it before

lunchtime, and I was wondering... The orders are going out now.

Yes, fine.

Well, I'm in a hurry, you see, otherwise I'd take it round myself, but you know

how it is.

Yes.

So I'd be very grateful if you could put it in with her order.

I telephone her only... You're in a hurry?

Yes.

One ninety -five.

Ah.

Ah, well, um... I'll, uh... I'll just take a couple of bread roll.

Have a light, I think.

Morning,

Mrs. Parkinson.

I'm not in a good mood today, Stephen. I do not like... today, nor my likeness

like anybody who talks to me today. In fact, trying to pretend that it isn't

today.

That I am dead.

I'll put your order on the step then, Mrs. Parkinson.

And if you wish to avoid me on the way back, you can always leap over the fence

and go out through Mrs. Moore's gate.

This note is for you, Mrs. Patterson.

For me?

They asked me at the shop to give it to you.

They probably didn't know that you preferred to be dead today.

You know, on the face of it, you're a very pleasant young man, with good

But any moment now, you're going to sweep some poor, unsuspecting female off

feet and whip her up the aisle, and she'll end up like... like this.

I hope so, Mrs. Parkinson.

Ben, what's that?

A couple of my patients. I come to bury them in the garden.

What are you doing?

We're going out.

Out? Where out?

It's a secret.

Go on.

Get your bag and coat. That's all you need.

But Ben... No need to change.

Come as you are.

I look a sight.

I can't possibly go anywhere looking like this.

And there's Adam and Russell.

Adam and Russell are Ben.

Can't you tell me where we're going?

We're going to do something wild and exciting and different.

What are we going to do?

We're going to pretend that we're lovers.

That we're secret from the world, that we've got nowhere to go, nowhere to

not even the potting shed.

We're going to be young and uninhibited and illegal.

What's that?

A tent.

Thank you.