All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather s01e06 Substitute

What'll I do when you are far

away and I am blue?

What'll I do when I'm alone

with only dreams of you

that won't...

What do I do?

And somehow I felt unfulfilled, unlike
most of the people in her books.

So I asked Dorian, did she have anything
a bit more challenging? She said, what

did I fancy? I said, I didn't really
know. So she lent us this.

It's got a bit of everything in it.

A bit of Kafka, a bit of Jean -Paul
Sartre, a bit of Kant.

Oh, Kant.

Yes, yes.

Typical working -class attitude to
anything on paper that ain't covered in

and vinegar.

And you can't be enjoying it.

No, not exactly.

But it does broaden the mind.

I mean, an education gives you something
to talk about after, doesn't it?

Something besides, give the fag or I beg
for dry patch.

It don't matter what you read, you're
still common, ain't you?

No, just honest.

Being honest, I won't be needing this.
You can't do that. That's your visiting

order. I know.

I've been carting it around in me bag
for three weeks with no real intention

ever seeing Chris again.

But you can't just dump him. He's still
your husband.

You've got to save him through thick and
thin.

Take the rough with the smooth, share
the ups and the downs. The ins and the

outs and the okies and the kokies.

I'll take the mix, Sharon. What about
your marriage vans?

Trace, they were all in Greek.

Well, I know. I might have been agreeing
to buy all 24 volumes of the

Encyclopedia Britannica.

Anyway, I've been to see a brief.

Dorian recommended one. Dorian? You can
find more in Dorian than you can find in

me. Look, I just asked her as a friend.
I'm your sister.

Blood is meant to be thicker than water.

Yeah, well, they're thick.

And they're thick.

Oh, come on, Trace.

I've apologised enough. Nothing, I.

Blimey, I've eaten more dung than Mrs.
Thatcher's entire cabinet.

You're sick, all right.

Look, I told you.

I didn't mean you were sick when I said
you were sick.

I just meant that you can be so, so
blinkered.

Just because you think marriage is the
greatest invention since the pop -up

toaster doesn't mean I've got to stay
with that useless ponce the rest of my

life, does it?

Blimey. What?

I've just spotted this week's special
offer.

Where comes I never come home with
anything like that when I go shopping?

She never stops, does she?

Well, he's a bit of an outlaw, isn't he?

Tracy Stubbs.

Go and wash your eyes out with soap and
water.

Hi. So how's the reading going, Sharon?

Oh, not bad.

That Lord Byron was a bit of a gullible,
weren't he?

Which juice has been?

Oh, of course, where are my manners?

Answers on a postcard, please.

Yes, this is Pat Edwards.

Pat, this is, or rather these are, Tracy
and Sharon, my next -door neighbours.

Pleased to meet you.

Pat and I have just been looking at
houses together.

What? You don't mean... No, she doesn't.
I didn't know you were such a wind -up

artist, Dorian.

I'm just lodging with Marcus and Dorian
for a couple of weeks until I can find

some places to buy.

Pat's been working in Italy for three
years.

You're Patsy Edwards, aren't you?

I'm afraid so.

Patsy Edwards!

There was a big picture of him in the
News of the World yesterday.

You don't mean... No, no.

Not the best hung paper hanger in
Halifax.

Patsy Edwards lives on the sports page.

West Ham have just paid some Italian cub
nearly a million quid for him.

Nah.

Don't try to tell my Daryl you've moved
in next door. He's mad about West Ham.

Really? I can get you a couple of
tickets for the next home game.

You can be my guest.

I don't really think Daryl would be able
to come to your next home game.

I'll call the one after that.

There's someone else's guest at the
moment.

What, you see he plays on a Saturday?

Oh, right. Who's for?

Just an amateur side.

Yeah, Wormwood Scrubbers.

The last of yours is a real pig to iron.

All these frills.

Well, leave it if you can't do it.

Oh, I can do it. I just ate it. That's
all.

Anyway, why do we iron?

What?

Well, why do we?

It's just a social convention that says
clothes look better all smooth instead

of all crumbly.

Ever since you started reading that
book, you've been questioning

Why do we iron? Why do we clap when we
like something and boo when we don't and

not the other way round?

Why are we here? Oh, I figured out that
one.

It's because Chiswell's a dance -site
nicer than Edmonton Green.

Right, tell me how this stands.

Do you mind? I'm trying to whine here.
Just listen.

My darling Daryl... Shakespeare couldn't
have put it better.

Then I'll skip over the rest of the
first page because it's about a dream I

about him the other night.

Oh, no, go on, tell us. No. I'll do
that. No, I'm a priest and you're ready

minute. All right, read us the rest
then.

The other morning, it was so hot, the
milk turned on the doorstep.

I told Milky, and he changed it for a
strawberry yoghurt.

So that was all right.

You should have a column in Exchange and
March Race.

Then I go and say that I really miss
you, of course, and I'm dying to see

only you're visiting all Dresden arrived
yet. I suppose it's in the post, unless

you've gone off me. Joke.

Then there's a bit more personal stuff.

You told him about Dorian's Lodger?

Pepsi. I didn't think he'd be that
interested.

What? Don't give me all that.

Daryl's West End potty, you said so
yourself.

Yeah, but... You fancy him, don't you?

No. Oh, yes, you do.

You've got the ups for him. I mean, so
have I. Who wouldn't have?

Eula Patsy Edwards, Eula Patsy Edwards.

That's a lie.

What are you getting the ups for, then?

Yeah, you fancy him. You know you
shouldn't, you don't want to, but you

help yourself.

And it's plunged you into a tumble,
hasn't it?

A tumult.

Yes, a tumult.

Hang on, I've read it somewhere.

Yeah, yeah, tumult. A state of violent
and confused emotion.

Told you.

Tumult.

I preferred it when you were pig
ignorant.

Oh, postman.

I'll pass free.

Ooh.

I never knew she had such a vivid
imagination.

Oh, hello.

Please, miss, can I have my ball back?

He was playing golf in Dorian's garden.
Knocked his ball over our edge.

Oh, so you want me to go and get it for
you?

Leave you two young things alone for a
minute, eh?

She thinks she's funny.

It's all right, it'll wait. To tell the
truth, I did it on purpose.

Why? To get away from Dorian. Oh, what's
she done?

She came into the bathroom this morning
while I was taking a shower. Could have

been an innocent mistake.

That's what I thought, until she tried
to get in with me.

Her excuse was she hadn't got her
glasses on.

Should I wear glasses? I know.

I reckon Dorian's made more partners in
the last three days than I got from the

entire Intermilan team in three seasons.

So what can we do for you?

Well, Marcus is away on business today.

Won't be back till the small hours.

So you spotted Dorian going at her Barry
White CDs with the old Mr Sheen, did

you? Exactly.

You need a bottle, then? Aye.

Stick around, then. I don't mind.

Oh, she don't mind at all.

Very reasonable here.

Oh, that's a bit too half -baked,
doesn't it? Yeah, someone's got to help

find it.

Funny, really, isn't it?

You know, the whole idea of a happy hour
being that time when you can get more

sloshed for less dosh.

It sort of throws the spotlight on our
very concept of happiness.

You're a bit of a philosopher, aren't
you?

Dory and Linda are a book.

Tracy got the looks and I got the run.

Thank you very much.

It's really strange being back in
England after all that time.

Yeah, I've seen a bit of a letdown after
the old Dolce Vita.

I'd have thought a celebrity like you
would be up back to drink fellows every

night. Getting into a barney with that
blonde bloke who used to be on

Street, but they killed him off and now
no -one can remember his name.

Winning Chris?

Yeah, that's right.

What about mates? There must be loads of
people you want to look up. Not in

London. All my friends are in Ireland or
Milan or Sheffield Wednesday.

I don't know anyone in London except for
you two.

And Marcus and Dorian.

So Mr Macari's been very nice.

Oh, he's the little bloke down heaps of
place, isn't he?

Well, he's the manager of West Ham.

Oh, he's got two jobs.

He's winding you up, Patsy.

Oh, here we go. Time's all right. I
don't think much of yours, Trotty.

It is.

You are.

I said he was.

That's a five for you, Omid. Just on
this beer, Matt, right, Patsy?

You'll have a straight back in the first
division, won't you, Patsy? I hope so.

Yes!

Cheers, Patsy. Cheers, Pat.

Blimey, you may not know anyone, but
they all know you, don't they?

Oh, shall we? How's it going?

Blimey.

Patsy Edwards!

I didn't know you knew Patsy Edwards.

It's rude.

Oh, I'm full of surprises, aren't I?
Patsy Edwards.

They'll never believe this down at Depo.

Get you a drink, Patsy. Oh, no, thanks.
I've got to go.

Girls? Oh, I'll have another Miami Vice
as well.

Have you ever seen me?

Fill the plumber.

I've always wanted to fill the plumber.

I can't keep up with your love life.

I think you and me are going to turn
into a couple of gooseberries in a

You've got that look.

Fancy going for a walk trip?

I wouldn't be buying a bag of chips.

Drive a hard bargain.

He didn't even try and kiss you or
nothing.

No, he was a perfect gentleman.

Don't call that perfect.

What did you do?

We talked.

He didn't even try for a little bit of a
feel.

They aren't all animals.

We just chatted about this and that.

And the other?

Do you know when he was a kid in
Ireland, they didn't even have any shoes

wear?

Sometimes there was nothing to eat but
bread and marge, and then he was

Oh, I expect that to be a vitamin
deficiency.

I mean he was spotted by a coach from
Blackpool.

Better than being hit by a coach from
Blackpool.

Do you want me to stop?

Sorry, go on.

So Patsy played for Blackpool for a
couple of years, got transferred to

Sheffield Wednesday, met a local girl,
got married, but he didn't work out.

Limey, he did open up to you, didn't he?
Yeah, I suppose we just found it easy

to confide in each other.

So naturally you told him all about
Daryl being in the nick and that?

No, I just told him that Daryl's away a
lot.

Well, he'll take that as an invitation
to try it on. Oh, Patsy ain't like that,

shall he? Oh, of course he's like that.
He's a man, isn't he?

He certainly is.

But I'm in control, and I feel great
about it. For the first time since

been banged up, I've got a bit of a
social life.

I can go out with a good -looking bloke,
know he likes me, and nothing has to

happen. We can just be friends.

So you'll tell Daryl about it in the...
Oh, don't be stupid. He'd kill me.

I just hope you know what you're doing.

So what happens next?

Nothing happens next.

He's asked me to have dinner with him
tomorrow night, but I think it's better

we keep it nice and platonic.

Nothing below the waist, do you mean?

What is it?

What's the matter?

Trace, talk to me.

Has something happened to Daryl?

Oh, he ain't been carved up, has he?

Tracey, for God's sake!

Got someone else, shall?

No.

He's turned queer?

No, it's a woman.

They don't have women in the Nick Trace.

Outside. Her name's Juliet.

God knows how long he's been knocking
her off for.

What, and he's written to you to beg for
your forgiveness?

No. Well, can I see it then?

He must have put her letter in my
envelope.

What?

Stupid sod must have been writing to
both of us and got the envelopes mixed

My darling Juliet, I miss you and the
baby so much.

The baby?

Nah, there's got to be some sort of
explanation.

Oh, yeah, like what?

Well, I don't know.

If you could just go and talk to him.
Well, I can't sodding talk to him. He

ain't sent me a V .O., has he?

Probably sent it to this Juliet slag.
Hang on, hang on. She might not be a

She might not even know nothing about
you. Oh, shut up, Sharon. She's a slag.

I just can't believe it.

I mean, you and Daryl are so much in
love.

Was.

So what are you going to do?

I'm going to use your visiting order.

Trace, they said Sharon was here. I
know. I asked you if Sharon's visiting

day. Is she all right?

Yes. Then why hasn't she come?

She ain't been all written for weeks.

Didn't even send me a birthday card.

It's because she don't want to see you
no more.

But that ain't why I'm here.

But she's my wife. I'll miss her.

I'll love her.

Yeah, I'm sure.

Look, I ain't got much time. If one of
the screws recognise me, they'll chuck

out. Tell her she's got to give me
another chance.

All right. Now, what's going on with
Daryl and this Juliet?

Juliet?

Oh, he's joined a prison drama group, is
he?

You know what I mean. This birdie's got
tucked away.

Tracey, God's truth, I don't know
nothing.

I ain't even seen Daryl for weeks. We're
on different wings now.

Oh, don't give me that.

Juliet's from before you were nicked.

Some tart he's been knocking off. He's
had a baby with her.

Daryl never had no bird on him. Well...
Oh, you lying puss.

You're all the same. you men, ain't ya?

Trace? Look, if you happen to run into
Romeo, you can tell him his future ex

-wife called while he was out.

Trace?

Got a fake?

Are you sure Tracy wasn't making a plea
for Pat?

Oh, honest.

They just had a good old rabbit about
how he misses his wife and she misses

Daryl. Yes, but of course that was
before Daryl's bombshell arrived, wasn't

the poor girl?

I just can't believe it. I mean, what a
way to find her out.

Unless that's the way Tracy was meant to
find out.

What? How can you deliberately do
something you don't know you're doing?

maybe Daryl wanted to tell her, didn't
know how to, didn't have the courage to,

so his unconscious told her for him.

Really? So if you misaddress the letter,
it's never an accident?

So Freud contends.

Oh, that explains why I put the cheque
for the gas in the envelope for the

electric. No, that's not Freud, it's
fraud.

Well, did you speak to Chris?

Yeah, but he didn't say nothing.

He knows, though. Kept trying to change
the subject, talking any old rubbish,

like how much he misses you.

Tracy, is there anything, anything I can
do to help? There is.

You can tell Pat I'm on for tomorrow
night.

What? Well, he asked me out for dinner.
I wasn't sure, but now I am. Oh, don't

go mad, Tracy.

I know what I'm doing.

When Daryl was sent down, I made a
conscious decision, a vow, to keep

from him, to wait no matter what.

He was my first and he'd be my last.

Well, it hasn't been easy.

We had a, you know, a proper marriage.

You mean an active sex life?

Yes. The last few months have been
really tough.

I've been having these vivid, rude
dreams about Daryl. Can you remember any

details?

And now it turns out he's been having
rude dreams and all.

Only they ain't been about me.

How can I come in?

I'd like you to knock.

I'd like you to tie yourself up for a
blood fever.

This is new.

Yep, that's from it.

Are you wearing these stockings?

No, I'm going to rub a bank with them
later.

You'll regret all this, you know. You
reckon?

This letter came while you were out late
night shoplifting.

Do you mind?

Darling Tracy, I'm so sorry about my
last letter. I hope it didn't upset you

much. Upset? Can you believe it?

Please use this visiting order soon and
I'll explain everything.

What the hell is there to explain?

Oh, you've got to hear him out, Trace.
Why?

It'll only be some pathetic pack of
porkies about how he was working round

Juliet's house and she started plying
him a drink and complimented him on his

lovely little bum.

Well, the egg got a lovely little bang.

No getting away from it.

And then she started undressing to
reveal this unbelievably sexy black silk

underwear.

I just hope you know what you're doing,
Tracy.

I know exactly what I'm doing, Sharon.

So don't come home too early tonight,
eh?

Jim, Jim.

I'll call you later.

What's that?

Sambuca. Not in the kitchen.

Did ya?

You sure it's alright?

My mum warned me about Irishmen setting
lights and things.

When you ask me if I like Thai food, I
don't think you could come over here and

cook it for me.

Aye, well it shows what a cheapskate I
must be. No.

The best Italian I've ever ate.

Want to know something else?

You've done something for me no other
man has ever achieved.

Really? What?

Got my cappuccino machine for work.

Pat, you know what I told you about
Daryl? About him being in Saudi Arabia,

building the world's biggest
conservatory?

Yes. But it weren't exactly true.

He's... Well, he's not abroad.

Tracy, Dorian's told me everything.

Oh, she's got a mouth on her like
Blackwood Tunnel.

Everything. Everything.

What about it being in the nick and all?

Yes. And about this other woman.

I'm sorry, Trish. You must be going
through a really heavy time.

Yeah, you could say that.

Well, you want me to change the subject?

The Macari's thinking of playing with a
sweeper tomorrow.

When I told Dorian to tell you that I
was on good tonight, I really wanted

something to happen between us.

Crossed my mind too.

Look, what is it?

If you're thinking of going to bed with
another fudge in spite of your husband,

I don't think it's such a good idea.

Not with another fella.

With you, Pat.

I really liked you.

Shut up.

Uh, nothing, lad. I just thought I'd
better go before... Oh, before I get too

late. Big match tomorrow.

Handing the boss down.

Lies, I'm prone to groin strain.

What are we going to do, Sam?

I don't know.

We shall hide a map.

See, Tracy, you don't want to see me
again, I'll ask you.

I don't.

Well, that's it.

It's funny,

isn't it?

100 years ago, a great written writer
like Oscar Wilde could be sent to jail

have his whole life destroyed just for
being a woofster.

Today they'd probably have him filling
in for Wogan when he's on his holidays.

Just makes you think, that's all.

Well, don't make me think.

Well, it should.

It should make you think about the whole
concept of prison.

How it's first and foremost a form of
social control.

Nothing really to do with crime or
punishment at all. Well, I'm sorry, but

don't agree.

I think it's the ideal form of
punishment.

They're all cheated on me, now he's
locked up. Good.

Don't be so bloody vindictive, you.

It's only sex, for God's sake.

You've got a lovely home, a kid you both
adore.

You could still have a marvellous future
together.

When he gets there.

And just because a man listens to his
Willy Wonka instead of his conscience,

the first time in the history of the
world, mind you, you want to chuck it

down the pen.

In the words of Emily Jane Bronte,
you're out your bleeding tree.

Oh, you smell so good.

That's enough, Stubbs.

I've really missed you, Tracy.

Yes?

What is it?

We've got some serious talking to do,
Daryl.

Did you mean to send that letter or was
it just some horrible mistake?

Of course I meant to send it at the
time.

You what?

I realise now it was wrong. I mean, it
must have been a lousy thing to have for

your cornflakes.

I didn't want no cornflakes once I'd
read it. I wanted a bucket.

It's only a letter.

I was very depressed.

You've been depressed. I thought you'd
understand.

And it's not so easy to get tranks in
here.

Dope heroin crack, just nothing legal.

What's all this got to do with flushing
our life together down the bog?

How could you do it? Weren't we happy?

That's the point. It's because we was
happy.

What are you talking about?

The probation officer reckons it's a
very common reaction to a long sentence.

You get sent down and you think to
yourself, OK, I'll do me time, keep me

clean. Bird's just an occupational
hazard after all.

But then, suddenly, out of the blue,
this huge great wave of self -pity,

disgust, shame, it just crashes over
you, and you can't think, you can't get

of the way, and you don't want to see no
-one, you don't want to talk to no

-one. Daryl! That's why I wrote to say I
didn't want to see you. I just didn't

want you seeing me in that state. Now,
what's all this got to do with this

Juliet flag?

Who?

My darling Juliet, I miss you and the
baby so much.

Ah, sure right, innit?

Yeah, it's my writing, but it's not my
letter.

Look.

Prisoner Longstaff S, number 235331. Oh,
my God.

Why didn't you read it properly, you
silly tart? I couldn't, I was so upset.

I put it straight in my bag. This is the
first time I've looked at it since.

Then why is it in your writing and why
is it in my envelope?

It's in my writing because I wrote it
for a mate who's so dyslexic he thinks

he's in it for HBG.

And it's in your envelope.

Because some bastard screw on census
duty thought it would be allowed to

letters. Oh, Daryl, I'm so sorry.

You didn't think I had another bird
tucked away, did you? Well, I didn't

what to think.

Tracy, it was the thought of you and
Garthy waiting for me that helped me

struggle out of that pit of despair.

Don't let me down now, darling, please,
because so many prisoners' wives go off

with other men.

So you've sorted out your little
misunderstanding over that letter?

What?

could have got those letters mixed up.

There I was, diligently working through
the prisoner's mail. I suppose I might

have been distracted by the sound of
birdsong coming through my unbarred open

window. Take the shot, it's up. I'll get
you. No, you won't, because I'll even

catch you thinking about it. I'll have
your punishment before you can say my

wife's a slag.

You can't lay a finger on me, Stubbs.

See how she likes it.

Blimey, what are you doing here?

Never mind me. What are you doing here?

Well, I've got so... bored waiting for
you.

I thought I'd indulge in a spot of
political agitation.

Oh, no, Sal.

Now what have you done?

Man is born free, and everywhere he is
in chains.

Jean Jacques Rousseau.

Jean Jacques Rousseau? Oh, it don't
matter how you say it, you still can't

round writing lines from the Pink
Panther.

Rousseau? Not Clouseau, you silly tart.

Are you coming apart?

Have you ever read a book, Tracy? I've
read plenty, thank you very much,

I mean, apart from an Argyle. Oh, I've
heard it when you read your Jilly

Coopers. I suppose Henry Cooper's more
in your line. And what's next?

What do I do?