Original subtitles

What will I do when you are gone?

Sharon, I've just had the most gorgeous man reading my meter.

Tom Cruise's eyes.

Will Carling's smile.

Kevin Costner's bum.

Honestly, they do put them in some dark places.

Oh, I don't know, though.

Hello.

Again. Don't you ever stop.

Only to get my breath back.

Honestly, she's got a one -track mind.

Nothing a cold shower won't cure.

I've always had a soft spot for men in uniform.

And out of uniform and all, I shouldn't wonder.

See you. Cheers.

A bientot.

Oh, look at that rear.

Like two peaches inside a handkerchief.

Yeah, you can't beat an ice bum.

Chris may have been a complete washout as a human being, but he had a great

little butt on him.

Marcus thinks his is spreading, but I told him size isn't everything.

Trace, is that you?

No, it's Santa Claus.

Maddy, we're coming down chimneys.

All right, all right, you sarky mare.

I ain't being sarky. I've come bearing gifts. Oh, what are we celebrating?

Probably just clinched Maidstone Prison's Stoppiest Wife of the Year

I ain't been to Maidstone, clever cluck. Yes, you have.

Where else would you be in your best gear?

Oh, to meet a man, of course.

That's your answer to everything, isn't it, Dor?

A man.

Well, that or a box of Belgian truffles and the latest Jilly Cooper.

Perhaps Dorian's right for a change.

Tracy, you dark horse.

Well, why else would I have bought this champagne?

I knew this would happen.

You've met another fella and you've fallen in love and he's moving in here

you won't want me around anymore.

I'll end up in Cardboard City.

Or else you'll move... Move in with him, I'll have to pay the mortgage on this

place and I'll go bankrupt and I'll still end up in cardboard.

What a job, you lemon.

You mean I won't have to move out?

The man I met is the sales manager of Leckham's Commercial Offset Printers and

I'm now his secretary.

Temporary for now, but you never know.

What about my bookkeeping, Sharon?

Congratulations, Tracy. I'm dead proud of you, Tracy. What about your

bookkeeping? Well, if you've got a job, who's going to do the cafeca? Sharon!

I will, on a Sunday morning like I always do.

Now say something nice or you'll get this bottle of bubbly right up your

column.

Congratulations, Trace. I'm dead proud of you.

So, what's this sales manager like?

Grey quilted shoes and a Bobby Charlton hairdo?

His name's Bill Steele and he's late thirties and he looks a bit like that

newsreader with the twinkly eyes.

Moira Stewart?

Michael Pratt, you burk.

I mean Burke, you prat.

I've always liked Michael Burke.

He talks about the recession with such humanity.

So you'll be having this twinkly -eyed boss of yours up behind the filing

cabinets before you can say, take a letter, Miss Stubbs. You always have to

lower the tone, don't you?

Only if Dorian don't get there first.

He's married, I'm married.

He's the boss, I'm the secretary.

All right, now let's party.

Green fingers too, eh?

I reckon you laughed at me too. I was trying to go faggins in it.

Is there no end to your talent?

Well, I did forget to cancel your meeting with George Bannerman last week.

Yeah, but I got two grand order out of it, didn't I, eh?

What a pair, eh?

Better get on with that report if you want it for tomorrow.

So, how are you settling in?

Terrific. I'm really grateful to you for taking me on when you could have had

some Kylie clone straight out of college.

I've had it with brainless bimbos in lycra mini skirts that leave nothing to

imagination. I know. Some of the skirts my Garth's girlfriends wear. I've got

air bands wider.

Oh, God.

I've turned into me mother.

Arthur, you're lying about your son's age. I'm not honest.

He's 18, next birthday.

Oh, you had him when you were seven. Now, which is it?

I always thought at 18 I'd be working as a PA up west, sharing a flat with an

air hostess and driving down King's Road in a sports car.

Not washing out nappies under a cold tap in Tottenham.

My garth did put the muckers on my career, which is why it's great to have

now. And it's great to have you here. I like a woman who's been around and knows

how to handle a bloke like me.

The Hargreaves order.

Frank wants your valued opinion.

Got to have someone else who's paid the wrong side this morning, Sheila.

Listen, Anne and I are going up to Fedley's lunchtime if you fancy coming.

can't. I've got to finish this report.

Tracey's very conscientious. I can spell that for you if you need to look it up

in her dictionary.

Don't bother.

We don't get much call for long words on reception.

Blimey. Who's rattled her cage?

Steer well clear of that one, Tracey. She's not known as Sheila Blige for

nothing.

Trace, I'm on tenterhooks. I ain't been so excited since I last watched paint

dry.

Here I come.

Do you reckon it's OK?

I mean, they said I could take it back if it clashed with the bride's outfit.

What bride's outfit?

Oh, you know what I'm like. I can't take something back unless I make up this

big story as to why it might be unsuitable.

Unsuitable? Boom, boom!

Look, just do what I do.

Say you bought it for someone and they died.

Look, I know it's a bit extravagant blowing my first wage packet on some new

gear, but I need some proper work clothes.

It's no skin off my nose what you do with your dosh.

You, er... So you spend it. Well, what about the skirt?

What about it? You don't think it's too short, do you? I don't want the world

and his wife getting an eyeful of my jacksie.

I've seen you wear a lot shorter.

Remember that dress you bought to see the Osmonds at Wembley? You could have

corrupted little Jimmy every time you crossed your arms.

It's just I don't want to look like a brainless bimbo.

You won't.

You're too old.

What do you reckon?

I reckon it's a Blair's trace.

Yeah, yeah, definitely.

It's the two sleeves and the buttons.

It'll go with the suit, which it will as long as I don't take the jacket off.

Well, I can't, can I? Well, I suppose I could if I put one of those cami things

or a slip underneath it.

What is your problem?

It's a bit see -through.

I meant, what's with the Mavis Riley impersonation?

It's just cologne.

I only wanted your opinion.

Yeah, me.

last week had, and I quote, about as much style as a colourblind bag lady.

I just wanted to be sure I looked business -like.

Watching L .A. Law every week don't exactly prepare you for a palm of the

printers. Look, you've got a great little figure, so flunky.

And what if your blazer's a bit see -through?

Your bra ain't grey and held together with blue tack like mine.

So stick a stock in it.

Not your bra, your gob.

Tracey's with his lordship.

Does she know you're here?

No. Thought I'd surprise her.

All right, is he, this Bill bloke?

Oh, terrific.

If you like your fellas with permanent hardware.

So, what are you doing here? Thought I'd catch a lift home.

You all right, Tracey?

I'm fine.

Just pleased to see you.

This is my Sharon. I mean, this is my sister.

It's my pleasure.

I bet it is.

Your sister's turning out to be the best secretary I've ever had.

How many of you have?

I promised I'd give Sharon a lift to the doctors, didn't I, Cheryl?

Oh, the doctors, yeah, that's right.

It's my eyes, you see.

Sometimes I can't see what's going on.

And other times it all becomes crystal clear.

And what he did then?

He was explaining the difference between offset printing and desktop publishing.

And we all know what he likes to do on top of desks.

And then he showed me this brochure as an example.

And tell Dorian what kind of brochure it was.

I wonder if Perry Mason might just let the witness speak for himself.

Objection overruled. It was naughty underwear and sex toys and stuff.

Did it have my appointment to Dorian Green on the cover?

I have never ordered intimate appliances from a brochure in my life.

They're gifts from admirers.

And I just said, haven't they done it nice? Meaning the printing.

Only he thought I meant what they were selling.

And he had her there for half an hour.

Asking her what kind of knickers she wears.

And has she ever done it in a stationary cupboard?

You'd have loved it.

He did what?

You heard.

You're getting off on all this, aren't you?

This I simply cannot tolerate. This is intolerable.

Oh, Janet Regan must be too tight.

The woman snapped.

How dare he sexually harass an employee like that?

Dorian, you're such an hypocrite.

No, Sharon, I'm a feminist.

Oh, and Norman LeMond's good at sum.

What about that gas man last week? He was all over him like a rash.

Well, that was different. That was reciprocated.

Cobblers! That was a bit of harm.

This badinage to bring a smile to the face.

And a buzz to the loins.

The men I harass, I mean flirt with, are all willing. I wouldn't do it if they

weren't. Tell that to the gardener. You wouldn't let out your potting shade.

No, mutual attraction is one thing.

Unwanted advances from someone exploiting a position of power is a

matter altogether.

So what do I do?

You're only a temp.

Kick him in the goalies and sling your hook.

She's speaking out of her rear end.

OK, Miss Burn Your Bra, what do you suggest?

Well, I suggest that slinging your hook is an admission of guilt.

But I ain't done nothing, and we really need the money.

Precisely. Plus, it'll be a victory for that skunk of a boss if you do leave.

And he'll whip out his brochure at the next temp and the next and the next.

So what's your plan?

Paint his private fluorescent pink?

Publicly expose him in Lakeside Shopping Centre?

It's a thought, isn't it?

It's only a bit of office fun and I don't mind.

And I'd like to do that job permanently.

So would you please keep your big noses out of my business? I don't need you two

interfering in my life.

She does.

So what's new your side of the barbed wire?

Garfield's got a thing about a girl called Melody.

Sharon's got a thing about chocolate chip ice cream.

And I've got a job.

She ain't pregnant, is she?

Melody. No, Sharon. I mean, craving weird food all the time. That's a stint,

Sharon's been pregnant since 1960.

So what's his new job, then?

Temporary secretary.

Who to?

The sales manager of a printer's in Palmer's Green.

Oh.

Well, what's he like, this sales manager?

Yuppie, I suppose.

Beryl, yuppies don't exist no more. It's all Essex men and classless societies

now.

Hit the go, innit?

My era finally arrives and I spend it at Her Majesty's pleasure.

His name's Bill and he's youngish and nice -looking and if you don't want me

work for him because he might fancy me, well, not that he does, but if he did,

then I'd understand.

Why do you say that?

Because I know how jealous you get.

And I don't fancy him or nothing, but if you didn't want me to work for a nice

-looking bloke like him while you're banged up in here, then I'd have to

your wishes, wouldn't I?

Don't be daft. I'm dead proud of you.

Are you?

Yeah. I look at you.

You couldn't change a plug before I got nicked.

Now you're running a home, you're bringing up Garfield.

Now you're holding down a job.

And I've changed too, Tracy.

I'm not going to let myself get jealous of every bloke you meet out there.

It hurts you and it plays havoc with my digestion.

Mind you, that could be the trickle tart that's over there.

So you don't want me to give up the job? You know I would if you said so.

Of course not. You stick at it, girl.

There's no substitute for hands -on experience.

Dinner is served.

Can't have you working late without showing you how grateful I am.

Velma and Louise.

Terrific.

What's it about, anyway?

It's about two women throwing off the shackles of male oppression and taking

the road in search of sanctuary, in search of themselves.

Don't you get nothing with Patrick Swayze in it?

No, we've seen them all 12 times.

In fact, they won't let me hide dirty dancing anymore. I've worn it out.

Don't you reckon we should wait for Tracy?

No. She knows the main feature starts at 7 .30.

She's obviously got something far more exciting to do than to be a couch potato

with us.

It's a bit heavy on the garlic, isn't it?

Still, as long as we're both eating it.

Oh, go on, it's open now.

Blokes are like wine bottles, you know, Tracy.

Uncaulk them, and you've just got to carry on till they're finished.

I'd better go, I'm expected.

What, by that miserable -looking sister of yours?

I'll tell you, love, you've got the looks and the brains in your family.

It's very nice of you and everything, but she'll have my dinner ready.

Wouldn't hurt her to miss a meal or two.

Besides, I was thinking we might make a night of it.

What do you mean?

Why don't we let Latimer's flexible friend treat us to coffee and brandies

the moat house?

I shouldn't drink and drive.

No problem. I can book us a room if we need to sleep it off.

Besides, it's going to be a while before you check into a three -star hotel

again with your Derek.

Daryl. Daryl, sorry.

Hey, I'm not passing any moral judgments here. I mean, he's done the crime, he's

doing the time, but, well, he hasn't been under your duvet for a few years,

he? And I bet no one else has either.

Am I right or am I right?

Let your hair down.

Live it up a bit. You deserve it, love.

Besides, if you want this job permanent, we ought to get to know each other

better. Make sure we don't rub up against each other.

In the workplace, of course.

I just remembered, your wife rang this afternoon to say could you pick up some

pampers on your way home.

I think she's got some herself by now. Very resourceful, Maureen.

Well, you have to be when your husband works late so often.

Very trusting and all, poor Claire.

Don't you worry yourself about her.

She gets on with her life.

You know, the kids, her pottery classes, um, her pottery classes, and I get on

with mine.

OK. So I play away once in a while. But why saddle a wonderful woman like her

with the knowledge that she doesn't satisfy me physically, you see? I'm very

sensitive like that.

Ain't you just?

So... What do you say?

I'll say some other time, eh?

Pizza's given me headache.

I bet I'm allergic to the anchovies. Or it could be the olives. Although Sharon

reckons it's the melted cheese, cos Welsh rabbits never agreed with me.

Begging for it.

What a film, eh?

It was my story.

It was all about me.

No, it weren't.

The only similarity between you and Thelma is that you both checked out the

contents of some young bloke's Levi's.

He was a cracker, weren't he?

Reminded me of Luke.

Shall we hang on to it an extra day, so Tracy can see it?

Yeah, might just jolt her into doing something about that toe rag she works

And male chauvinist pigs might fly.

I mean, what is it with Trace?

I love her and everything, but sometimes she can be a right gunk.

Well, if she won't do anything about Bill, perhaps we should.

We could always do what Thelma and Louise did.

What, drive off a cliff?

Blow up his car, like they did to that dirty trucker.

Sharon, this is Chigwell, not the Badlands of Dakota.

We could plaster Palmer's green with posters telling women what a scumbag he

And pay astronomical libel damages for the pleasure. That would really hurt

wouldn't it?

What are we going to do?

Trace should be enjoying this job.

Instead, she leaves her every morning looking like she's a Milda Marxist

shoeshine girl.

Perhaps we should respect her wishes. It's her problem, not ours.

Trace! You've just missed a blinding video.

We can watch it again if you want.

I don't want to watch no stupid video. I'm going to bed.

How much Semtex does it take to blow up the average car?

Will you stop it, Sal?

I ain't doing nothing.

Except wondering if I couldn't just manage another slice of toast.

Hint, hint.

You know what you're doing.

What?

Chewing me mouth open?

Getting Marge in the marmalade?

You're telling me to sing the hook at Latimer's?

I ain't said a word.

You don't have to. Your body language has just given me an earful.

Well, perhaps me and my body agree on this one.

I mean, look at you. Yeah? What?

When you started this job, you was happy. You was confident.

You dressed nice.

Now you look like me.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Yes, you do.

You're dressing all frumpy because you think it's your fault that Bill can't

keep his privates private.

You think wearing a baggy jumper and trousers will put him off?

Well, it won't, Trace.

Blokes like Phil wouldn't be put off if he was wrapped head to toe in cooking

foil.

In fact, I bet it'd turn him on.

Well, what else can I do? He thinks no means yes.

He probably thinks nap off and die means yes, yes, yes.

I know you.

You ain't going to do anything, are you? I will, shall.

In me own time.

I will.

Well, let me fight me own battle.

What? Like... Pamela Jenkins in the brownies when she kept pulling your hair

calling you rat's tails.

Well, I would have sorted her out if you hadn't got there first.

You'd have told us. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never

hurt me.

It was my punch up the bracket what sorted her out.

And got us kicked out the brownies. Right.

So the winner on two counts, weren't it?

Look, you can't let him walk all over your train.

Who says I will?

I do.

Feeling yourself again?

Yes, thanks.

I could feel yourself with you sometime.

You see, Tracy, what makes me a good sales manager is I've picked my target

I go for it.

And I don't let up till I've got it.

Now, if you want this job permanent, you'd better understand that.

Oh, I understand, all right.

So you won't mind working late again tonight?

Area managers in reception for you.

Thank you, Sheila.

You're looking particularly lovely today.

See you later, Tracy.

That's it.

I've had it.

Anne, it's Tracy.

He's just gone. Are you ready?

OK.

You coming?

Oh, I'd love to.

But I've got to sort all this lot out by two.

So that's Bill.

That's Bill.

Doesn't look a bit like Michael Burke.

But he's about to get his clammy claws into some other poor cow.

This following door.

And as I'm sure you've seen from our sales figures, Latimans are one of the

successful companies in the group. Actually, they're third from bottom, but

who's counting?

I never knew throwing off the shackles of male oppression could be such fun.

They'll relue you to be proud of us.

And, of course, I really think we're going to come into our own during the

financial year.

Do you? Why's that?

Gut instinct, Mrs Dawson.

Or may I call you Vanessa?

It's Valerie.

And no, you can't.

And, of course, once we're through the recession, we can... Tracy, what are you

doing here? Oh, I had to come. It's urgent.

Sorry, I'm Demoreen.

Demoreen's fine.

I've told her you'll be... working late.

What about it?

What about what?

Oh, don't come all innocent with me.

Am I right so too?

You've got Latin Miss Credit card and you've been dying to get inside my

knickers for weeks.

Is it then bed springs?

I don't know what's got into her.

Tracy, go back to the office right now.

What? Do it on the desk, you mean?

Oh, yeah.

He was always trying to get me to do it on the desk when I was a secretary.

But I wouldn't oblige, so he had me transferred to dispatch.

We could always do it in the warehouse.

What, a threesome? Yeah.

You sure you're up to it, Bill? Me and all.

You did promise, Bill Pet.

And me.

Hey, don't you forget that dirty brochure you're always bringing in here.

Well, come on then, Bill.

Women are like open wine bottles.

You get us going and there's just no stopping us.

Women. They're all mad, aren't they?

Present company accept it, of course.

Shell, you'll never guess what.

What? Bill apologised this afternoon for sexually harassing me. And Sheila, and

Anne, and half a dozen other women at Latinmouth.

And ten minutes later, he was out on his ear.

Yee -haw!

The area manager was only having lunch with him to talk about redundancies.

So when she heard what a scumbag he was, he was out on his ear.

Of course, I've got the elbow too, but I'm dead proud of myself for the way I

handled it.

The way we handled it?

What's it got to do with you?

We told him how women react to male shackles.

You mess with us, we mess with you.

With three tons of ultimate.

Do what?

Who do you think it was that filled his motor with steam? That was you.

That was us, weren't it, partner?

You idiots.

whoopsie on the upholstery, whoopsie in the stereo.

She was furious.

You didn't trust me, did you, Shell? It was Pamela Jenkins and the Brownies all

over again.

Who's Pamela Jen... Tell me later.

I said I'd thought Bill out and I did.

Yes, good for you, Trace.

So why didn't you believe me?

Well, it was Thelma and Louise.

They inspired us to come to your aid.

Who are they?

Look, we did it for you, Trace.

We didn't enjoy a minute of it, did we, Dawn?

Not even a microsecond.

Well, you can tell that to the police.

Well, you didn't think Miss Dawson would give you two dozen red roses for

ruining her car, did you?

She's called in the police? Of course.

And they've got loads of witnesses.

You reckoned you could sort out my problem.

Now you can sort out your own, partner.

Well, think of something, Sharon.

If you can give us a criminal record, I'd rather die.

I'm thinking, I'm thinking.

And? And?

I've heard Mexico's nice at this time of year.