All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather s03e10 Cuckoo

I do when you abide.

You're up late.

Out on the rattle last night, was you?

There's only ten pound left in the
housekeeping drawer.

Yeah, I know. I've done the shopping.

How much did you spend?

Seventy quid.

Seventy quid?

Where do you go shopping? How red's food
all?

Seventy quid? What have we got? Boiling
the bag caviar and venison burgers, eh?

Monk salmon fish fingers this week, is
it?

That's what it costs, Trace. No, it
don't. Don't be daft. There's only two

us. Blimey, there's old families living
on less than that for a week all in.

silly. I just got a lot of stuff, that's
all.

Got a lot of eggs. A lot of veg.

What eggs did you get? Golden eagles.

I got a lot of stuff so it'll last.

Because I don't like going to the
supermarket.

Last time I was there I was stuck in a
queue that made the dole office look

the Marie Celeste.

And then the checkout girl puts her
hands up for tin of chestnut puree with

price on and starts ringing bells like
it's New Year's Eve.

I hate that. I hate it.

Life is on hold until Dilip Patel finds
out the price of 500 grams.

And he's just vanished up the
Californian corn chip hole, never to be

again.

Probably thought to himself, stuff this
for a game of shopkeepers and legs it

back to Bangladesh.

And I don't blame him.

Dilip Patel don't come from Bangladesh.
He's from Goa.

What? Well, actually, he's from Gidia
Park, but his family come from Goa.

How do you know?

Because I was stuck in that queue once
when they couldn't get the teal roll

in the machine.

Told me all about himself.

He's got two kids, drives a Nissan Sunny
with a graphic equaliser.

Is he married then?

Well, of course he's married. What do
you think, he had two kids all on his

He could be divorced.

What's his wife's name?

How should I know?

Look, we are not doing Dilip Patel
supermarket assistant, this is your

we?

What we're doing is, let's have a go at
Sharon for spending too much money.

I know what we're doing, Trace, and
you're well out of order.

Look, all this stuff costs money. It
ain't my fault.

Oh, no, Cheryl, I'm sorry.

It's just we're not going for our money
quick.

Are we?

Yes. We got the bill for the car
insurance yesterday, the central eating

had to have it serviced last week, and
the house insurance is due.

Honestly, I don't know how Daryl used to
manage it.

Of course you do, Trace.

It's to knock over banks.

It helps to treat with your
housekeeping, that does.

Because it don't help us.

I'm scared, Cheryl. I was all last night
trying to work out how long our money's

going to last us. You know, at the rate
that we're going through it.

What's the answer?

I don't know.

I've been so worried about money, I
hadn't bought a battery for me

I was going mental trying to work it out
of a pencil in me fingers.

Well, I'm no good at adding up since
everyone got calculators.

You were so good before.

I know.

Anyway, I've got me building site book
out, you know, to try and work it out.

And? Well, when I go to the building
site and they put it in the machine and

prints it all out, what's left at the
bottom.

Yes. And then they take it out and they
close it to push it under the glass.

Yes.

Well, I never look at it.

Because I'm frightened. You know what
I'm like, Shell.

Well, anyway, last night I made myself
look at it.

I mean, I came down here first to have a
few vodkas, you know, to get me bottle

up. Well, that's why I'm a bit off
today, because I'm a bit hungover.

And now there's no vodka left and we
can't afford to replace it.

Actually, I think I'll just get myself
an aspirin. Tracy!

What?

Tell me, I'm hanging on here.

Get to the point, how much have we got?

Oh, give us a ear.

Bloody hell.

Well, there's still a fair bit in here.

But nowhere near how much they should
be.

It ain't going to last long at this
rate. I think we're just going to have

work for a living.

Yeah, steady on, girl. No need to get
carried away.

I won't think of something.

Let's look at what we've got going out.

Well, there's one thing going out that
we don't need.

What's that? The rent on your place at
Edmonton.

Well, we don't have it, Trace. It's my
flat.

Yeah, but you live here.

I still need my own place, Trace. Not if
you live here, dear.

Well, you never go there. You don't like
nothing about it. But still, you shell

out for it every week. You're starved. I
don't shell out for it. I mean, when's

that Sam was paying rent? He made some
sort of cent.

Then now he's in Pentonville, you ain't
getting nothing and you're still paying

rent.

I ain't paying rent. The DSS are.

That's what I'm trying to tell you,
Tracey. Don't cost me nothing.

Well, is that legal?

Well, you can overdo all this legal
business, can't you?

Look, I ain't hurting anyone, am I?
They'd have to pay the rent anyway.

I like being here. You like having me
here.

And I'm not taking a job away from some
poor person with hundreds of kids and a

terrible mortgage that needs it
desperately.

Everyone's happy, isn't they?

You're all art, aren't you, Shell?

Yeah, I am, yeah.

And there was me thinking you was just a
lazy, selfish cow that was trying to

make some extra money.

It just shows you how wrong you can be,
doesn't it, Tracey? Yeah.

I wonder if the DSS would really
appreciate just how public -spirited you

Don't say that, Trace. I've got to go
there tomorrow.

Thank you very much. Goodbye.

Mrs Sharon Theodopoulopoulos.

Cubicle three, please.

Hello. Hello.

Have you done any work since you last
signed?

Oh, no.

You are available and looking for work?

Oh, yeah.

You just haven't been successful in
finding any.

Well, it's the recession, isn't it?

And then again, once people find out my
husband's in prison, they turn against

me.

You know, it's a terrible thing, but I
don't suppose I'll ever work again.

Tragic.

Phil, there it is.

Can't be gyro now.

And you're not cohabiting with anyone?

How do you mean?

You live alone at flat 37 Camelot House,
Edmonton?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

So, why do you collect your diary, then?

Why did we send it to you there?

Well, it's not safe.

You know, it might get nicked.

Oh, I see.

Well, if you'd just like to sign to that
effect.

Here, cheers.

Thank you very much.

I'd just like to wait a moment, please.

Mrs. Sharon Perpetua Theodopolopoulos.

Yes? I have reason to believe you have
made fraudulent statements in order to

gain pecuniary advantage from the
Department of Social Security.

You're not obliged to say anything, but
anything you do say may be used in

evidence.

social security scrounger, then?

No, I ain't. Uh -huh.

Well, all right, yeah, I suppose I am.
Well, I never knew that.

How interesting.

I really would like to know exactly how
it felt when they collared you.

What? When you first felt the dread hand
of the law on you, and you realised

that you were facing the horrors of a
trial, prison, and social disgrace.

Prison? Ain't that bad, doll?

Oh, I think it is.

You see, there's a big crackdown now on
social security fiddling, and quite

right too, if you ask me.

We didn't.

You must tell me all about it. It must
be dreadful to see your whole world fall

apart in front of you, to know that from
now on you will have a criminal record

and that you will never be trustworthy
again, no matter what you do.

And you have actually experienced this.

You see, in this book that I'm writing,
this is what happens to my heroine.

Pussy, go lightly.

So, I would really appreciate it if you
would tell me exactly what it's like.

What? She gets done for fiddling the
Social Security.

Oh, don't be silly, Tracy. Of course she
doesn't. She is charged with insider

dealing, defrauding the Bank of England
of £20 million, murdering her bisexual

lover and smuggling 800 kilos of cocaine
into Manhattan.

Of course, it's possible I have slightly
over -egged the pudding at this point,

but the basic feeling must be much the
same.

And of course, you know what it's like
queuing for a pittance in those awful,

smelly public assistance offices.

You see, I've been toying with the idea
of popping in a strand of gritty social

realism to try to reach the left -wing
audience as well as proper people.

So you could be a great help to me.

When did you start writing this book,
then, Dor?

Ever since I met Dominic Laszlo at one
of Marcus's parties.

He runs the Chigwell Writers' Group.

Dominic Laszlo?

Well, his real name's Kevin Pratt.

He just writes under the name of Dominic
Laszlo.

Can't think why.

So where else does this pussy go
lightly?

Well, she has a series of affairs with
well -muscled, well -endowed young men

who have highly developed sexual
techniques.

And who on earth are you going to ask
about them sort of experiences?

Those sections of the book I shall draw
on my imagination.

So.

What's it like to be prosecuted by the
Department of Social Security?

I ain't being prosecuted.

I don't know what happened.

They just said I weren't living at
Edmonton. Well, you don't. You live

Exactly. Yeah, but they don't know that,
do they?

Well, clearly they do.

Well, how did they find out?

Well, have you been to Edmonton lately?

No. Well, there you are.

There's probably a dreadful letter
there, threatening you with all manner

dire consequences, which they assume you
have ignored.

She's right, Shell.

You ought to go and check.

Yeah.

Will you come with us, Trace?

If I have to.

If there is a letter like that... Yeah?
Will you keep it for me?

You see, I would like to know exactly
what they say just before they prosecute

you.

If you don't knock it off, Dawn...

pussy going lightly is going to find out
exactly what it feels like to get a

smack in the mouth.

Stuff me. This is a bit strong, isn't
it?

Yeah.

Blimey, she don't write about nothing
else.

No.

It's good, isn't it?

Oh, no.

Oh, my God, what's she want to do that
for?

My Daryl never did nothing like that,
thank God.

She's wild, isn't she, Dorian?

Where'd she get all this from?

Don't be daft, Trace.

The woman's been researching this book
for the past 20 -odd years.

Do you reckon she'll sell this?

Well, I'd certainly buy a copy.

As if the vice squad ain't burnt them
all first.

Do you reckon this is based on real
people?

I wonder.

I wouldn't mind bumping into this
Tarquindi winter.

Because either one, she says, is well
-indared.

What do you mean, the one?

According to her, they all are.

I tell you, if this is based on fact
that Dorian Green's been a hell of a

luckier than I have... I'm half worried,
Trace.

About the Social Security.

Yeah.

I don't understand it.

Well, you ain't done nothing wrong, have
you?

No. So it's bound to get sorted out,
then.

There'll probably be some letter or
something when we get to Edmonton

Oh, no, there's another one.

Another what?

Another one like Tarquindi Winter.

bloke you were talking to at the
supermarket?

Are you sure his name's Philip Patel? Of
course I am.

He had his name on his badge, didn't he?

And he's married?

Yes, I already told you.

And two kids.

Why are you so interested?

No, it's just we got chatting when he
was packing me a carrier.

He asked me out.

He never.

Why wouldn't he?

People do ask me out, you know, now and
again.

I ain't a letter.

I thought you said he disappeared up the
California country pile. It's just

poetic cross -name, wasn't it?

Oh, I get it.

It's a different bloke. Of course it's
not a different bloke. How many Dilip

Patels are there?

That's four million.

It's like John Smith in India, isn't it?

It is the same bloke. He asked me out
and all.

Send it over here every week. Why can't
they send it to Chigwell?

Because then they'd say, I was living
with you, wasn't I?

That's what I keep saying.

Where's that music coming from?

That's not music.

It's motoring.

It is a note.

Oh, no.

Have they changed the locks?

No,

look. Google.

Hello, darlings.

And what can I do you for?

Who are you?

Cedric.

What are you doing here?

Squatting.

Well, you can squat off. This is my
flat.

Your flat?

Yes.

You chose this wallpaper then, did you?

Well, my husband, did you?

Blimey. You married a right plunker,
didn't you?

Well, yeah, I did, as a matter of fact.

What's that got to do with anything?
What are you doing in my flat?

I told you.

Squatting. Well, you can't. I live here.

No, you don't.

We've been here two months and there
were squatters here when we come.

Well, what happened to them?

Egbert asked them to leave.

They was very good about it.

Egbert?

Well, who else is here then?

Just me and Egbert.

Egbert's a transvestite.

Stella and Elvira sort of hang out here
and all.

You all named Theo Potter or something?

Yeah, why?

We had the social come round asking if
you lived here.

What did you tell them?

Told them I'd never heard of you.

Well, I hadn't.

You were social security scrounger then.

And how did you get your money?

I begged.

Begged? Yeah.

I beg people not to force me to hit
them.

I started small, you know, little
acorns.

Got any spare change, guv, I used to
say?

Now I say, give us a tenner, scumbag, or
I'll give you a right spanking.

My salary went up by 2 ,000 % overnight.

You want to talk inflationary wage
claims, you'll have a word with me.

And I hate people what punts off the
state.

Yeah? Well, we ate squatters.

These ladies was just leaving, Egbert.

Egbert?

What, you said he was a transvestite?

Probably his day off, Trace.

You can get squatters out these days,
you know.

Marcus has had to organise it for
clients before now.

Yeah, but it's all solicitors and courts
and paying for bailiffs and things.

I couldn't do all that.

Well, neither did Marcus.

He just paid a gang of thugs to thump
the crap out of you.

Oh, pardon my French.

He said it had to be cost effective.

Well, we can't do nothing like that.

Really? I would have thought you were
very well connected in the appropriate

circle.

What?

She thinks we know a lot of villains.

Well, we don't.

We're just the same as you as far as
that goes, Dor.

What on earth do you mean?

We didn't take that much interest in our
husband's work.

Oh, I see.

Well, it's the council who have to do
all this, not you.

Yeah, but then they'll find out I ain't
been living there.

And then they'll evict her. And then
they'll do me for claiming the rent off

them. And if I don't get rid of them,
they'll do me for cohabiting or

subletting. My word, you are in a
pickle, aren't you?

Trace, couldn't you ask your Daryl?

Don't he know someone?

Someone who?

You know, he's got the frighteners on
him.

Don't be daft, Shell. We ain't the
mafia.

We could serve time for pulling a trick
like that.

But if the... No, don't even think about
it. We are not criminals.

Well, Sharon seems well on the way to
becoming one.

These corn chips are absolutely
delicious.

Where did you get them?

I nicked them from Tesco.

I think they're in all day, sleeping.

Sleeping?

Yeah. Well, they're up all night playing
records and rehearsing for their album.

Their album?

They're musicians.

Well, then, why haven't they got a place
of their own?

Because they're very bad musicians.

Oh, God. You should hear the noise they
make.

They make the sex pistols sound like the
Academy of St. Martins in the fields.

That's an orchestra.

I've got a tape of them doing Vivaldi's
Four Seasons.

Oh, right.

And I got Beethoven's Pastoral, Mozart's
Orn Concerto, and the New World

Symphony. Oh, nice.

It was nice.

It reminds you of one long commercial
break.

You keep being reminded of low -fat
spread and toilet papers.

And there's one, you know. It's done
double glazing, loo cleaner, pot

and them nappies.

Where the baby's drier after he's done
the gym than he was before.

I could do with a pair of them.

There was only 50p each.

The tapes.

But I didn't pay nothing.

Yeah, about the squatters, Irene. Why
didn't you pay nothing?

I put her address.

I got them from the record club.

Send no money, it said.

My address?

Oh, don't worry. I didn't put your name.

Now, you see, the postman always gave me
your parcels when the place was empty

like. So I got a lot of stuff through
the post.

I just looked at the ads that said send
no money.

Yeah, look, about the squatters, Irene.

Oh, they're terrible.

None of us don't get no sleep at all.

None. Ever.

That's why I jumped at the chance of
staying here for a month.

A month?

No, I said a week, Irene.

Did you?

Oh. Well, have you asked them to be
quiet?

Yes, we all have.

Asked them nicely.

Hundreds of times.

They're nutcases.

They chop up firewood all for the night
and all.

But I ain't got a fireplace.

I know.

It's worrying.

Makes you wonder what they're chopping
up.

All right, Cheryl, you win. We'll ask
Daryl.

No, it's all right, Trace. I don't want
to get your Daryl into trouble.

We'll ask Chris.

You can get rid of him.

You have a word with Batty Harold and he
pops round to see them. They'll soon

see things your way, don't worry.

What do you mean, pops round to see
them?

At 3 .30 in the morning with a few of
his mates.

Is he called Batty because he's nuts?

No, he is nuts.

He's a raving lunatic.

He's called Batty because he likes to
bat people.

Or the baseball bat.

Whenever he has to deal with any
opposition, he always says, I'll open

batting.

You leave it to me.

But he might seriously hurt someone.

Well, not if you tell him first.

Harold's one of the nicest people I
know.

You never do any dubiation unless you
actually ask for it.

So then, what do you want?

Full work, so just duff him up a bit?

No duffing up. Just get him out.

Oh.

Well, it seems a shame when you're
paying for it not to have a full

I mean, it is included.

You know.

He's a real gentler now, Harold.

It'd kick the shit out of anyone, no
extra joy.

He likes to give good value.

Look, it's bad enough having to deal
with thugs without encouraging extra

violence. Oh.

Well, you've got to do something, doll.

People don't scare that easy.

All right, he can smash a few things up,
but nothing else.

Remember, some of them are women.

Oh, don't worry, don't worry.

Harold ain't like that.

He ain't the slightest bit sexist. He'll
thump anyone.

They'll be taken care of as well.

Chris, we are not communicating here.

Just give me his number, I'll have a
word with him.

Don't be daft.

You mustn't have any contact with him,
that's the whole point.

Oh, dear me.

No, no, no, you leave it to me, I know
what I'm doing.

God, blimey.

If I left it to you, you could end up in
prison.

What's a mogul?

It's a businessman, isn't it?

It says here, descended from a mogul
prince.

Oh, that's an Indian bloke.

Oh.

Oh, there's a surprising thing.

What? This mogul bloke... Yeah?

Well, he's got one thing in common
with... Tarquindi Winter!

Yes!

Hang on.

What?

Bloody hell.

She who once had had a prince as a sex
slave, had ridden two hounds with dukes,

and eaten at the tables of kings, was
now reduced to a squalid council flat in

Camelot Tower, Edmonton.

Pussy wept through bitter tears, and
through blurred eyes saw the fat cockney

girl...

at her with her coarse peasant features.

Who does she think she is, eh? Coarse
peasant features?

She'll have coarse bloody features when
I've finished with her, won't she?

Well, you don't know it's you.

Of course it's me.

She's put my slut in a dress down here,
for God's sake.

I'll kill her.

Horrified at being

to this revolting creature.

She says, Dorian Green is meat.

History is what that snobby cow is.

She has breathed her last of Chigwell
air. Take it from me.

Hello?

Oh, hello, Irene.

Get home all right, then.

Are you sure?

Well, that's great.

No, it's all right, Ira. You leave it to
me.

Yeah. Ta -ra.

The squatters are gone.

Eh? The police were investigating the
stream of mail order, Thess, and they'd

all left it.

We've got to go round there pronto.

What, this time of night?

Yes. We've got to get one of them 24
-hour key people to change the locks,

it secure.

Oh, God, this is great.

I ain't got me car show. I never paid
the insurance. I was hoping to save

It's okay, Trace.

I know someone who owes me a favour.

Hello, Dorian.

Yeah, I know it's late. Look, it's the
revolting Fat Cockney here with the

course peasant features.

Yes, sorry to horrify you by being on
the same phone line as you, but...

you have got a God -given chance to
avoid being severely dafted up the next

I see you.

Is it based on real life, then, Dawn?

Well, of course, Dawn. In a way. I mean,
I do improve things here and there, you

know. Oh, yeah? We know how you improve
things. Don't worry.

Is your latest boyfriend in it?

Well, in a way.

Who's her latest boyfriend?

Didn't know she had one myself until
just then.

Is it Tar Queen'sy Winter? Oh, no.

Tar Queen's Luke, innit? Well, thought
of.

So, who's your latest bloke, then? No
one you know.

What's he do?

He's in merchandising.

I know who it is. Do you?

The mogul prince.

That's right, yeah.

Are you going out for mogul prince
store? Well, not exactly. I said I do

things. He's a high -caste Indian.

What's his name?

Delete Patel.

What?

Nothing, nothing, darling, nothing.

Oh, God, this is great.

I've got my flat back.

Social can't prove I don't live here
now. They can't touch me for anything.

Yeah, and not only that, but we can get
our money back off of Betty Harold. We

don't need him now.

Oh, that reminds me.

We'd better cancel him. Don't want him
coming round, do we?

I'm not sure when...