All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather s03e06 The Lost Weekend

I think I've seen this.

Have you?

No, perhaps I haven't.

Yes, I have. I remember. Remember now,
it's him.

Who?

Why would a toupee?

What about him?

He's the murderer.

There hasn't been a murder.

No, not yet, but he kills her.

That's right.

They can't work out how he did it,
because he puts the body in his

refrigeration van, which confuses the
forensic blokes.

He gets cast on alibis. Really good,
this.

Sorry, Trance. Don't mention it.

I didn't think. I was really looking
forward to that.

We can still watch it.

What's the point?

Now we know who done it, what he done
before he done it, how he nearly gets

with it, that he's walking around with a
rug on his head.

Are you sure that's a toupee?

Of course it is.

They all love them.

You can always tell with American
actors.

Their hair gradually gets thicker with
age.

LAUGHTER

What's on the other side?

Oh, football.

Nothing else?

Cozy fan tootie.

Well, there you are. You like ballet.

It's an opera, stupid.

And what do you mean I like ballet? I
don't like ballet.

We watched a Nutcracker last week.

Yeah, only because you was glued to that
bowl as the bloke in the blue tights

said.

That's the only reason we watched it and
I know what sort of Nutcracker you had

in mind.

Must be something else on.

Documentary about alfalfa growing in
Bolivia.

BBC Two, is it?

Hmm.

I'll go to bed with my book.

Yeah.

That's all either of us seems to go to
bed with these days.

My word, he is a lucky fellow.

Well, let's rent a video, then.

Yeah, OK. I'll get it. Do you mind?

No, of course not.

What do you want?

Nothing too violent.

No, OK.

And don't get nothing too sexy.

Makes me feel lonely.

Well, shall I get a comedy, then?

Nah, I don't fancy a comedy.

Well, what else is left, Trace?

No sex, no violence, no laughs.

What do you want?

Adventures of a Costa Canton?

Well, a nice murder, you know.

I thought you didn't want nothing
violent.

Well, I don't mind a murder.

You know, one sort of family murder.

Where you just have to look away once
and you're OK for the rest of the film.

It's sitting there watching people thump
seven kinds of crap out of each other.

I can't... All that blood and crunchy
noises.

Right, OK. So it's one non -violent
domestic murder.

No sex.

No laughs.

Oh, I'm getting the tin of oval tea and
I think we've run out.

Eh? Well, the Europa's over next to the
video shop.

Oh, yeah.

And a packet of Abbey Crunch.

I fancy a biscuit.

I'll tell you something, Trace.

This life in the fast lane's too much
for me.

When you're a young lady, use lots of
mascara.

And when you're a slightly older lady,
use lots more mascara.

We'll draw the curtains then. Let's see
it properly.

We never had the curtains drawn just now
and we was watching LA Weeks. We'll

never pay for that.

What are you doing?

Might as well be comfortable.

All set now, are we?

Shall I just nip out with some popcorn
and Keora?

Yeah, shall I grope you in the dark bits
and chuck paper at the back of your

head, eh?

Just all the lines out there, just after
the actors all the way through, just to

make you feel like you're down a
multiplex.

No need for sarcasm, thank you very
much.

Right.

Actually, there is one thing.

What?

I think I'd better go now before the
lights go down.

It

just

doesn't seem fair.

The poor chap doesn't stand a chance.

Hello, Chigwell Massage Parlour. All
tables catered for. Fiona speaking. How

I help you?

Well, I knew it was you.

My husband, little one, even as we
speak, is helping himself to large

of buck's fizz on a departing 747. How
are you?

What?

Oh, I see.

No, no, I quite understand.

Yes, yes, another time.

No, no, it's all right, really. I'm just
glad you phoned me now. I was just

about to start getting ready.

What's that smell?

I can't smell nothing.

Well, turn it on, then.

I've turned it on. You must be able to
smell it. It's horrible.

Well, nothing's happening.

It takes a minute, doesn't it? Have a
bit of patience.

What is that whiff?

I'll get it.

Hello, door.

Been cleaning behind the cooker, have
you?

I have been strut up.

Who's you going out with?

Prince Philip?

What you do?

What you up to?

Auditioning for dynasty?

Just because I happen not to slop around
in worn -out C &A special offers, I see

no reason for all this sarcasm.

I was going out if it happens.

But an unexpected change of plan has
left me at a loose end.

Well, you've struck lucky ears, or...
We've just opened a fresh tin of oval

And we're about to throw an happy crunch
party.

Who was the guy like with?

There's a dreadful smell in this room. I
mean, more than usual.

That's what I just said.

What do you mean, more than usual?

It was a sort of joke.

I feel like being rude to someone.

Is that why you've come round here?

What was that?

Dunno.

Oh, God, blimey. What?

The video's smoking.

Oh, unplug it, then. You unplug it. It's
your video.

Oh, yeah.

Oh.

Oh, it slugs a lot.

Oh, God, the video's done in there.

Now we can't watch the film.

Everything's going wrong tonight. You're
telling me.

Haven't tasted this for years. What's it
like?

It's horrible.

The milk's gone off.

So what are you two doing this weekend,
then?

Well, we ain't made up our minds,
really.

We toyed with the idea of slipping off
to Mustique or going to Paris for some

high fashion gear.

We're just giving the staff the weekend
off and having a quiet time at home with

a couple of toy boys.

We're the absolute pits at making
decisions.

We ain't doing nothing.

Well, neither am I now, and Marcus is
away. What a waste.

Can we watch the film on your video,
Dore? Oh, yeah, come on, Dore.

Why don't we go away?

I? What do you mean?

What I say.

Have a weekend away.

It's only Thursday today.

We could go to the travel agent in the
morning, find a late booking, and we

could be off on a jaunt this time
tomorrow.

Where to?

Well, anywhere.

It doesn't matter.

Just a couple of days. Be fun.

Tourists? What do you think?

Weekend in Paris?

Couple of days in Venice?

My passport's run out.

It'll cost a bit, Dore. Well, all right.
Somewhere in this country, then.

It'll be my treat.

Marcus did a very big deal last month.
He won't even notice.

Oh, we could go on one of those activity
weekends. I've been reading about them.

Are you sure, Dore?

Absolutely certain, Tracy.

After all, one must do one bit for the
poor.

Where shall we go, then?

What's the weather going to be like?

Hello. Now, here's the picture for
tomorrow and the weekend.

And we see the north -south divide in
all its meteorological glory. Down here

the south are wind and rain and misery,
I'm afraid.

Umbrellas and galoshes all round. While
here in the north, lots and lots.

Of hot sunshine, factor 15, and bikini
is the order of the day. Oh, God.

What?

We're obviously going to have to go oop
to north.

All those dreadful people with peroxide
hair and their teeth in glasses saying

gradeley and champion.

You are such a snob, Dorian.

I do what I can.

I just hate all those northerners.

You're all so plain -speaking, down -to
-earth, warm -hearted and genuine.

I don't know how I can stand it.

I like being to be natural.

Straight up and down, shifty, snobby
people who do you down as soon as look

you. You know where you are with people
like that.

Well, what are we going to do then?

An activity weekend.

You know, something like bird -watching,
tennis, bridge, wine -tasting perhaps.

I don't want to do that sort of thing.
And nor do I particularly. We'll find

something we do want to do.

We'll go to the agent tomorrow for a
late booking.

Let's see what they've got in here for
you, doll.

No, there ain't one.

Ain't what?

A toy boy tasting.

This video recorder, how long you had
it?

Dunno, it's not mine.

Well, whatever you do, don't chuck it
out.

Eh? No, because I reckon the science
museum will be interested in this.

Can you fix it?

Fix it?

Well, that all depends on the parts, you
see.

First, I thought this was a valve type.

You can still get them.

Valves. But I reckon this one's
clockwork.

Those big brass horns, you don't get
them anymore.

I was only joking.

I know.

That's what I'm fooling about.

Right, it's an old one.

Yes, you said that.

Look, the bloke who owns this house was
the first to have everything.

That'll explain it.

Probably got it in to record the
coronation.

Look, I don't want to seem to be rude,
but do you think we could cut the

Paramount City audition and get to the
point?

What we have here is a non -functioning
video.

Very likely it came out of Fred
Flintstone's cave.

Very probably most of the moving parts
are made of wood.

But can you get it working again,
please?

Well, I'll have a look.

Thanks a bunch.

And if you could manage...

Hello?

Hello, Trice.

No.

No. No.

No. N -O. No.

I am not going rock climbing.

Don't be daft.

I haven't got the gear, the figure or
the bottle. for it.

And I don't want to do it anyway.

Look, why can't we just go somewhere and
get waited on and have big meals and

get rat arsed of an evening?

That's my idea of an activity weekend.

Barring the other activity that doesn't
seem to be on offer these days.

Trace?

Trace, you're going mental.

You are losing your grip on reality.

Whitewater canoeing is not something you
do for an activity weekend.

Look, I'll tell you what the activity
would be if we did that.

Drowning, that's what it would be.

Come to the Welsh Valleys for an idyllic
weekend's drowning.

Fill your lungs with clear mountain
spring water.

That's not a holiday.

That's a package suicide tour.

I'm going on. I'm going on because I
suddenly seem to be surrounded by

Look, these things are for your regular
fruitcakes that take their lives in

their hand all the time.

It ain't all to tears, you know. It's
not a water slide.

We are talking death and maiming here.

Anyway, what's the story inside?

She needs the kiss of life when she
cracks a nail.

Trace, this white water canoeing, have
they shown you pictures of it?

They have, yeah?

Right, now don't tell me.

The fellas in the pictures, they
wouldn't by any remote chance be rugged,

handsome blokes in their early twenties
with tiny bums and muscular legs, would

they?

It's just a wild guess, Trace. I don't
know what made me think it.

Anything else?

Oh, yeah?

No, I quite fancy that.

Pony trekking sounds good.

Quite small ponies, are they? Not too
tall?

No, I don't like heights, do I?

All right, let's do the pony trekking.

Yeah. Try, Trace. Bye.

You going pony trekking?

Looks like it, yes.

I had an aunt who once went pony
trekking.

Did she? Yeah. She fell off.

Did she?

Yeah. Flipped into a ravine and got
killed by a whitewater canoeist.

I can fix this.

Are you being serious now?

I am. Amazing, isn't it? In fact, this
one's so old, I can actually repair it.

Look, beggars can't be choosers. There
are three vacancies and it's all in.

Well, I'm going.

Hang gliding.

It's very difficult, three of us at the
last minute. We don't have a lot of

choice. It came down to weightlifting.

Hang gliding or fun with trigonometry?

I'd love to learn more about
trigonometry.

What are you on about? You don't even
know what it is.

Course I do.

It's like geometry, only brainier. Look,
could we expend less time on irrelevant

discussion? We are not having fun with
trigonometry.

Better than trying to have fun with a
broken neck.

I am not going up in a hang glider.

What's the wind up me just thinking
about it? Oh, you'll be all right,

They've got these big training machines
now and you get all strapped in and got

the instructor. Just the two of you
together.

Do you?

Oh, don't you start, Dorian. It's not
one of those sort of weekends.

I only said do you.

Yeah, but the look on your face when you
said it and I came over all telepathic.

All of a sudden I could see you and this
hunky instructor with his strong arms

and his manly smile and you going on at
him about how long he can keep it up.

to pony trekking.

Turned out it was fully booked. As I
said, it's not easy at the last minute.

We only got hang gliding because a few
people dropped out. Exactly!

Oh, come on, shall we? We're only young
ones.

And if we go hang gliding, we'll never
be old at all.

But it must be the most incredible
experience.

Please, shall we?

Oh, all right.

But don't blame me when we're all in
hospital.

We won't, don't worry.

Right, we'll go back to the agent and
book it.

You have to take a few risks in life,
Sharon, or you'll never get anything.

Nothing to it, Cheryl.

Don't suppose they go up more than a
mile or so?

When they crash, it'll just be a matter
of seconds before you're cat food.

Oh, I can't do it.

I'm gliding.

I'm a sonar fly to the moon.

Tracey. Hello, Trace.

Look, I can't do it.

You and Dorian go. I'll stay here.

I've just been thinking. I'll go mental
on the course, but Ben won't grab us.

Who's in hospital? What do you mean?

What happened?

Where? Which hospital?

Is she all right?

Yeah, all right, I'll see you there.

Tell our trace.

Well, what happened was, we was walking
down King Street and there was all these

horrible men on a building site, leering
and yelling at all the girls going by.

So Madam here says we had to cross over,
you know, to be near them, like.

Well, of course, there's all this mud
and wooden balls and stuff. So she goes

arse over tit.

Was she wearing high heels?

There's guys that play football.

Anyway, I knew it was serious when this
hunky builder come over to see if he

could help, and she was only quite nice
to him.

Blimey. I am here, as a matter of fact,
you know.

I may have suffered physical injuries,
but I am quite capable of contributing

the conversation.

You haven't actually got to talk across
me like this. She was panicking. She was

in a terrible state.

Because of her injury?

No, because she was terrified they were
going to take her to a national health

hospital. She kept talking, I'm a booper
person, I've got insurance.

I want the private ward with the colour
telly and the smiling doctors. Not the

wards full of common people in C &A's
clothes.

I did not, Tracy.

You did?

I did not. I would never say telly.

Coloured television with satellite dish
and Nikon digital stereo I may have

mentioned. But there are some words one
just doesn't use.

Like awesome, serviette and valance.

Well, what did I say was wrong with you
then?

I've got contusions on my gluteal
maxima.

Oh, my God.

It means she's bruised her bum.

How do you know?

I talked to the doctor.

I said you was me, aren't I?

You didn't.

I did?

Oh, no.

Did you make an effort to speak
properly, or do they now think I've got

-class people in my family?

It's all right, Zor.

What I actually said was we was just
mates.

Thank heavens for that.

I said we met down the DSS.

When I helped you fill in the forms for
the second -hand cookie you needed.

Being as though you'd never learnt to
read and write proper.

You will go to hell, you will.

And I would be very much obliged if,
just while you are here, you could avoid

saying things like, art the back,
meaning in the garden, and all that up

apples and peaches stuff you go in for.

I mean, if you could just tone down the
cups of rosy and minced tart department,

I'd be very grateful.

I do not want people thinking I'm
related to Doc Cotton.

What's minced tart?

Well, ears, isn't it?

Mints, pies, eyes, you daft cow.

So,

that dishy medic's going to be giving
your netherwath names a checking over,

he, Dor?

Looks like you're luxing. I suppose it
is.

I could kick myself, though.

Why? I'm wearing Marks and Spencer's
knickers.

No, I mean top -of -the -range silk, you
know, with the high -cut legs.

But I have just bought half a dozen
Christian Dior cami knicks.

with see -through sections.

I came with them, hair's breadth of
wearing them. My hand hovered over them.

I thought at the last minute, no, save
it for an occasion.

Just my luck.

That's a shame, isn't it?

Well, never mind. It won't be round for
an hour or so. I could nip home and get

them for you, if you like.

Oh, would you, Tracy?

Well, I could get you, darling.

Bloody hell, you think I'm going to...
all that weight so you can flash a poncy

designer gusset for some medic?

You must be off your trolley.

Cammy Nicks don't have gussets. That's
half their charm.

So how long are you going to be in here
for then?

Don't know.

The doctor wants to keep me in overnight
for observation.

Well, I don't think much of your
chances.

He seems much keener on observing that
nurse with the big frutteny bits.

What are frutteny bits?

More like sixpenny bits in our case.

Oh, friends, have you asked me? Lucky
cow. No, no, no. You can have too much

a good time. Oh, will you two stop all
that?

Sorry, Dor.

Sorry, Trace.

What are you saying sorry to me for?

You're about to find out.

What are you on about?

Just done a mince tart.

Yeah, I'll have you have that.

What was all that about?

Just doing my bit for the poor, Trace.
How much did you give her?

A couple of quid. A couple of quid?

But you never give to beggars. You
always say that they get more than we

Yeah, well, I was killing two birds with
one stone, weren't I?

How do you mean?

I told her that there was a lonely lady
in that hospital that never got no

visitors. And she'd give her a couple of
quid more.

Oh, shall you never?

Well, it takes Dory and Snotty Green to
be ashamed of their best friends,

doesn't it?

I had a word yesterday with your
daughter.

Daughter?

Sharon.

Sharon is not my daughter.

Do you know, I thought it was odd.

I should think so.

There's no resemblance at all.

That woman is only a year or so younger
than I am.

Oh, yes, of course. I'm so sorry.

Well, I mean a few years, you know.

I'm not trying to pretend.

No, no.

Ten years.

Yes.

Ish.

I really am sorry.

So she's no relation at all, then?

She's my cleaning lady.

She and her sister Tracy run my house
for me. I see.

It's a tragic story, actually.

Their husbands are both in jail.

They were left destitute.

They needed some sort of security, so I
thought.

Ah, yes.

I mean, one must do what one can in life
at a disadvantage.

Quite so.

They're very vulgar, low -class girls.

But they have good hearts.

And one mustn't be prejudiced in this
classless age.

Hello, Mrs Green.

We're so pleased you're going to be all
right.

Doctor says you can come home today.

We've got the place lovely for you.

We've done all the beds, cleaned all the
rooms, black -leaded the range, swept

the chimneys, everything.

And it's an honour to do the work for
your mum and no mistake.

While you've been in here, it's brought
it home to us, all what we owe you.

Just how lucky we are to have our jobs.

Seeing as how we'd never get nothing
better, not common.

Valkyrie girls like what we are.

Um, if you'll excuse me, I'll, uh...
I'll see you before you go, Mrs Green.

um, thank you, Doctor.

You were eavesdropping. We listened at
the door, yes.

But we'd just like to say how grateful
we are to you for taking us in when we

was left in such...

Tragic circumstances.

Well, don't think I'm about to
apologise.

Telling that man I was your mother, you
should be shot.

God knows what they think of me in this
hospital.

I mean, quite apart from thinking that
I'm your mother, this appalling tramp

woman came to see me just after you
left. Wouldn't leave me alone.

Oh, I see.

That was your doing too, was it, you
revolting little cop?

Calm down.

Your gluttonous watch names are in no
state to get excited.

You just lie there quietly, Mum.

It's not just the not being able to go
away at all.

Are you sure they said that?

We could have done something, couldn't
we? They wouldn't even countenance my

having fun with trigonometry, never mind
hang gliding.

And they gave me these tablets, I can't
even have a little drink.

You've got ovaltine, ain't you?

Well, what are we going to do then?

We could watch that film now.

Should have gone back yesterday.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, what a weekend.

48 hours ago, I was all set to spend it
in a blaze of romantic bliss.

Sparkling champagne, glittering
theatres, gourmet food, long nights of

toyed with by a handsome young lover.

Here I am with two vulgar cockneys, a
bruised bum and a couple of oval teeth.

Have a nabby crunch, doll.

Hank, I've seen this film.

Have you?

Oh, yes.

He's the one. Kills his wife and his
boss and gets away with it. It's quite

good, actually.

Oh.

Sorry.