Original subtitles

What'll I do when you are gone?

What do you want for breakfast?

Frosty for a quick sugar bath or all brown for a good clear out?

Neither. Garfield made me breakfast in bed.

Deviled kidneys.

Lovely.

I'm really worried about him, Cheryl. He's got to be up to something.

Oi, I was listening to that.

Up to what?

I don't know. He's just been too nice.

I can't even get this sort of treatment on Mother's Day.

What's the matter with you?

kids his age are out nicking cars or getting rat arsed every night.

You should be really pleased he makes a fuss of you.

No one else does.

It's just a bit sudden, that's all.

And turn that crap off.

What's the matter with Radio 1?

Besides the fact that it churns out remorseless techno pop for people with

discernible brain cells, nothing.

That's good, from the woman who once said her number one desert island diss

Una Paloma Blanca.

Because I like it.

It just brings back fond memories of the time Chris was dancing to it at that

disco in Margate.

Tripped himself up, spilt his lager over two rugby players and spent a week in

traction.

But I've changed, Trace. I want to broaden my horizons.

I want to learn more about proper music and culture and things.

Oh, of course.

Because you don't want to make a gunk of yourself in front of Colin again.

Honestly, Shell, even I know the Nutcracker Sweets are ballet and not a

two armchairs.

I was mucking about.

Oh, yeah.

Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to improve yourself.

I've met a bloke whose cultural horizons go beyond the Sunday sport.

I want to keep up with him. So what cultural treat has he got lined up for

tonight?

We're going to the King's Head.

What, having a quiz night, are they?

Can I come?

It's a fringe theatre, actually.

There's a new play by Keevan Bromwich.

Or was it Albion?

Keevan Bromwich?

Oh, did I hear you say Keevan Bromwich? How exciting.

Have you heard of him?

Her, actually.

She's a promising New Zealand dramatist whom critics are acclaiming as the

Antipodean Timberlake -Wertenbaker.

Never mind.

How do you know?

She was on Radio 4 starting the week with Melvin Bragg. Lucky cow.

Can I smell a full English breakfast?

Tracey's just had it in bed.

With whom?

On my own. You're a trollop, you are.

Speaking of trollop, Sharon, I brought you the Barchester Chronicles and

Fourth, the easy -listening symphony for the uninitiated.

And don't get egg yolk all over the books, please. Now, you were saying,

Tracy... I was saying, you might not mind having your bacon and eggs with

strange bloke. Over easy.

The only bloke who's getting in between my sheets is my Daryl. Do I really

admire you, Tracy? How long is it now?

She can't remember. It's been three years since she's seen it.

I don't understand about being faithful, Dawn. Can you imagine having to spend

the rest of your life with one man?

Well, actually, that's just what I have been imagining because I am thinking of

falling in love.

Leave it, Aya.

Who is the poor sod then?

His name is Emile.

He's French and he is to die for.

Looks like Gerard Dipperdure.

Soulful eyes, shaggy mane, big nose.

What's so great about a big conk then?

I know what they say.

Big nose. Big handkerchief.

So where did you find this frog then?

He's moved into the Weeping Willows, you know, the house across the road, with

the home -based carriage lamps and the manual garage doors.

What, and there's no Mrs. O'Meal about?

No woman at all. But he is, as yet, resistant to my wiles. Now, I have been

there several times, masquerading as the neighbourhood watch coordinator.

But he keeps giving me short shrift.

It's not like you to get anything short from a bloke, doll.

Still, maybe short shrift sort of balances out his big conk.

Thank you.

The thing I don't understand is why is Celia keeping this Ukrainian locked up

a spare bedroom?

And why is Vladimir submitting to this ordeal when she won't even let him touch

her? Even though they both start naked.

If I was to get a bloke star, there'd be no stopping me.

She won't let him touch her because she feels that way she's not being

unfaithful to her husband.

But I think we will wait for the second act to reveal the play's imagistic

methods and its symbolic potential.

I love it when you talk all clever.

You know who you remind me of?

Kenneth Branagh?

Inspector Morse.

I bet you love opera and you go round solving lots of crimes with a bloke

Louis. The only thing I've got in common with Morse is we both like beer. And

besides, he never seems to get off with a bird.

Well, there's no worries there.

Now can I ask you something?

Anything.

This is not easy for me.

Oh, God, here we go.

You don't want to see me again.

Whenever a bloke says this isn't easy for me, it's followed by, Sharon, I

like you, but I think we ought to stop seeing each other. Or, Sharon, I really

like you, but I think I'd better get dressed. My wife's expecting me home for

dinner. Sharon, cool it. I do want to see you, OK?

No, what I want to ask you is, can we use your house?

Well, of course we can.

The person realises I've got my own life to lead, as long as you don't make me

make too much noise.

No, no, no. When I say we, I don't mean you and me.

I mean we, the Met.

Eh? Well, it's like this.

One of my governors, Detective Inspector Dunford, wants to do a round -the

-clock surveillance of somebody in Brian Close.

Now, don't ask me who, because I haven't got a clue.

And as he knows that we go out together, he had me up in his office this morning

asking me to ask you if it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience to set up

your house.

You are joking.

Tracy wouldn't have police in Dallentrace.

She's always been really nice to me. She likes you.

She considers you an honorary human being.

I'm sorry, Cole.

You'll have to tell him now.

That's a bit of a worry.

Because he also added, if it was too much of an inconvenience, that you could

have the local Nick hassle you and your sister, and that would be an even worse

inconvenience.

Now, I said to him, I don't want to get involved.

And he said, you're involved with a villain's old lady.

Now, if you don't want that to spread about...

So rag.

I'm sorry, Cheryl.

It'll be all right.

I'll break it gently to Tracy.

I suppose he got your rat arse before he arsed you.

Not so. No, you look, Sharon.

I don't believe you sometimes.

You've done a lot of bloody stupid things in your time, but saying yes to

the old bill in my hair, under my roof, I'm... I'm lost for words.

No, you're not. You're doing just great.

I heard it's a detective inspector.

You may have forgotten it was only a detective inspector that put our

away. Did me a favour.

I know I'm expected to entertain this copper, be nice and civil to him, feed

him. Look, they don't want your whole house, Trace, just one room.

Oh, go on, Trace, please, for Colin.

Or Dunford will make his life a misery.

Look, I'm sorry, Shell, but it's not my problem.

Look, I only said yes because they're after a big villain.

I'm not sure, but Colin did imply it could be an international drugs dealer.

Drugs, huh? Are you sure?

Yeah. Could be that French bloke across the road, what Dorian fancies.

We don't know nothing about him, do we?

He could be the French Connection.

Drugs, that's different.

If there's one thing I hate more than coppers, it's drug dealers.

And this is a respectable name.

We've got a conservative MP, for God's sake.

I'm in Edmonton, yes.

Drugs were rife where you used to live.

I once got offered some coke in the lift of your old block. Gave the kid a good

smack.

Kid must have loved you.

Smack was expensive round Edmonton.

Don't say nothing in front of Garth, then.

Hi, Mum.

Hi, Michelle.

Blimey, Garth, where you been? You smell like the inside of a beer barrel.

It's a stag night.

Richard on my course is only getting married tomorrow, isn't he?

And he had this stag over in Epping Forest.

He had strippers, enough food to sink the Ark Royal. But no drugs.

What? I said, but no drugs.

Mum, no.

There were no drugs.

And even if there were been, I'd have had nothing to do with them.

The only thing I've ever had up my nose is Vic Synex.

OK?

OK. Night, Aunt Michelle.

Night, Mum.

Night, Garth.

You're a lucky girl, Trace.

He don't back for the other side. He don't get involved with gold diggers and

don't talk to trees.

What would the Queen give to have a son like him?

Good afternoon, madam.

Sorry we're a little late.

I ain't ordered nothing.

What's going on?

Oh, right, you're the filth.

I'm Detective Inspector Greg Dunford. This is my colleague, Constable

Wheatley. Do you want to see her warrant card?

No, it's all right. What's with all this fancy dress and all this gear and all?

You never know who might be snooping around.

I hear you have some very nosy neighbours.

One I can think of.

Yeah, well, if she did happen to be peeping through her curtains, all she'd

is John Lewis delivering a new dishwasher.

But enough small talk.

We need a bedroom that faith is front with en suite facilities.

I suppose you want a double bed and all.

This is important.

I'll take two sugars in my tea. Anything else?

Well, obviously you won't eat regular meals.

You're considered weakly as a vegan.

Sorry I asked.

Bloody vegans don't eat nothing.

Oh, what a crappy day.

Why is there a dishwasher box in the hall?

They're here.

Who's here?

Oh, the police.

And they came in disguise.

There's a dishwasher.

Not doing their tea, are you? I ain't got no choice, have I? They're not

to leave the room for a weekend. One of them's a vegan.

Got pointy ears, has he?

Right, I'm going for a shower.

Why? You don't smell that bad.

I'm going out with Colin tonight, all right.

All right, you can use my shower.

Why should I? I've got my own one.

No, you won't.

Eh? Well, they're in your room, aren't they?

What?

Because I needed a room that faced the right direction for spying.

Well, your space is the same way.

I ain't having them in my room. I didn't invite them round here. All right, all

right, forget the shower.

Where am I supposed to sleep?

In the attic room.

Scared of heights?

Well, in the box room.

I'm scared of boxes.

Come on, Trace, I want my room.

With my teddy bear collection in it. With my bed.

The room with my clothes in my wardrobe.

And my shower that if you don't know how to fiddle with just right, you get

scum. Who did?

time and I'm not collecting for Jewish charities.

What do you think I was doing?

Good thing I'm wearing all my rings on. Who knows what injuries I could have

sustained.

Why was the door locked?

How am I supposed to get in if the door's locked?

You've got the rules all wrong, door.

Me and Tracy live in this house, so we come and go through this door.

You live next door, so you come and go through the door that came with your

house. Please be one to stop the hang of it.

Tracy'll have a fit.

You know how stroppy she can get after a difficult visit.

What's so special about today's visit?

Nothing. Just might be a tough one, that's all.

Is it because there's something important she has to tell Daryl, or

important she isn't going to tell Daryl?

What are you on about, Dawn? Sharon, please, don't treat me like a cretin.

much gets past me.

Certainly not if he's got a hairy chest.

Last night, as I was coming home from a liaison dangereur, I saw her in the

window with a man.

It was me and Colin.

No, it wasn't. The woman went in at the waist.

I know who it was, Sharon.

OK, Dore, you got me.

There's two detectives upstairs from the Serious Strumpet Squad keeping an eye

on you, OK?

Very funny.

Right, now I'll tell you what I think, shall I?

Tracey isn't as innocent as she appears, is she? She was up there with a man,

wasn't she?

I think you'd better sit down, Dore.

I'm going to tell you something in complete confidence.

If I find out that you've told a soul, I'll murder you.

No, worse than that, I'll flambe your credit cards.

My word, this must be momentous.

Momentous is an understatement.

Now, I want it to go no further than these four walls, all right?

Cross your heart. I don't cross my heart, I'm Jewish.

What do you cross?

My cheques.

I'll teach them, I promise.

Tracy has a secret lover.

Well, that much I had worked out for myself.

But this is no ordinary secret lover.

More a sex puppet.

Their relationship is so fantastic, it makes even your sex life look mundane.

Impossible.

But there's so much you don't know about Tracy.

So many deep, dark secrets.

Well, go on.

He's a young Ukrainian sailor who jumped ship at Tilbury.

He hitched a ride with her. Something magical happened on the A13 and he's

up there ever since.

She's told him he's free to go, but he wants to be her sex slave.

The A13, you say?

So, every night, Tracy lets him out of the attic and into her room for just one

hour.

He takes off all his clothes.

She takes off all her clothes.

But she won't let him touch her.

That way she figures she's still being faithful to her Daryl.

Oh, I think I've said enough.

Enough. You can't stop now.

I want more.

People pay good money to his store. It's half as good as these on the 0898s, but

not for me, I might add.

This is a joke, isn't it?

My God.

Is he up there now?

Naked.

Probably oiling his torso, even as we... Thanks, Carol.

Didn't tell Daryl, and now I feel really deceitful.

Is he still up there?

I don't know. We haven't had a burglary, have we? No, I'm afraid it was me. I

was trying to get in and accidentally put a three -carat baguette through it.

You should watch what you're doing with your French salad sandwiches.

Are you planning to have it fixed? Naturally.

Is who still up there, Tracy?

I?

Oh, Garfield.

He was out on the drinks in the small hours.

Couldn't get him out of bed this morning.

He had an important lecture, too.

Ten things to do with Jerusalem artichokes.

Still, never mind.

Dorian can fill him in on eight of them.

Thanks, Captain Seychelles. I only ask who was upstairs, Tracy, because last

night I saw, silhouetted on your bedroom blind, a man and a woman.

A slim woman.

It was a little sod.

No wonder he was knackered. He weren't on the drink, he was on the job.

Told you before about smuggling his birds back here. No, it can't have been

Garth, because at half past eleven last night, your son was leaving Emile's

house. I saw him. But I also saw two people in the window. I know who it was,

Tracy. Sharon has told me.

What, Garth was coming out of the frog's house?

Yes. They came out together, shook hands, and then Emile gave Garth an

Didn't see what it was.

Does he speak any English, or are you learning Ukrainian?

Broke his neck, the two -faced little dopehead. You know what he was doing,

don't you?

Getting dope from him over there.

What? Oh, don't be silly, Emile's not a drug dealer.

I told you he was being too nice.

Breakfast in bed, flowers.

He wouldn't know Interflora from Inter Milan.

My garf's on drugs which he's been getting from over there and they've

his brain too.

I'm going to go and turn his room over and find out what he's been taking

the police do.

I've got one of my men in prison, I don't want two.

Well, perhaps you might get some kind of discount from British Rail.

He's found 50 quid in his pocket. Where did he get 50 quid from? Probably

selling his body on the street.

What? Well, he's about as likely as him being on drugs, isn't he? Well, of

course he ain't on drugs. He wouldn't have any money if he was on drugs, would

he? No, it's worse.

He ain't buying, he's selling.

Our French connection features have turned my dad into a drug dealer.

So he's a villain.

He's only following in his father's footsteps.

I think I'll go. My psychodrama's on a Friday.

Are you sure the words Ukrainian oiled torso and A13 mean nothing to you?

Look,

I'm really, really sorry, Shell.

I don't know what came over me, I swear.

You pushed me over the edge.

You're always hitting me.

I'm not.

I never hit you.

Dissected my spammy bra.

Thought it was enough room.

Hi, Mum. Hi, Aunty Shell.

Oh, do I sense some bad vibes here?

Don't talk all druggie in my house.

What? You heard.

What's going down, Aunty Shell? You will be if you don't mend your ways.

I'm going to ask you a question. I want you to tell me the truth.

I always tell the truth. Oh, yeah.

Like you don't take drugs.

I don't take drugs.

No, but you sell them. What?

I have been down your jacket and I found 50 quid. Now, that's got to have come

from somewhere.

You've got no right to do that.

Don't talk to me about right.

They'll be reading you your rights if you don't mend your ways.

Now, Dorian saw you come out of the frog's house last night and she saw him

you something.

She's jealous because she wanted him to give her something.

I want an explanation, Garth.

What is all this?

Do you deny that the garlic muncher gave you money?

Of course not.

Why, ain't it?

Ain't you got no shame?

About what?

About pushing dope.

What? Is that what you think?

It's great to know your mum trusts you, innit?

So how did you get the money?

The garlic muncher is, in fact, none other than Emile Barreau. Does that mean

anything to you?

No. I don't watch crime watch France, say.

Emile Barreau is one of the top chefs in the world, and he's recently moved to

England to open a country house hotel.

He also cooks for private functions, VIP.

With me so far?

Not a lot, no.

Well, I saw him at the French bakery last week.

Must be where Dorian got a carrot baguette.

And I recognised him from his celebrated cookbook.

So I plucked up my courage and asked him if I could watch him in his kitchen.

He said, no -one watches him in his kitchen, but if I was any good with a

knife, he'd let me dice some carrots for a private dinner party.

And that's where the 50 quid come from.

50 quid for chopping carrots?

I must be in the wrong game.

I'm really sorry, Garth. You see, Mum, most things have a simple explanation.

If only you asked.

Right. I'm going out now to get well and truly oiled with my mates, who trust

me.

I made a right balls up of that, didn't I?

Yep.

Have you ever thought of writing a book on how to handle wayward use?

Mind you, it comes to think of it, it's more Dorian's line, isn't it?

Look, it ain't easy doing it on your own. You could lend me some support

sometime. And risk another right -hanger.

And what was Dorian going on about well -oiled Ukrainians for?

Promise not to hit me.

No promises.

Well, she saw them upstairs, so I didn't want to tell her it was the old bill,

so I just said the first thing that came into my head.

Which was?

That you had a sex puppet stashed in the attic.

You're sick, you are.

Does she believe me?

How does that prove? We know she's sick.

Come to think of it, none of this aggro with Garfield would have happened if you

hadn't persuaded me to let Dempsey and Makepeace into my house.

Well, I've had enough. You can go up there now and tell them both to sling

hook. Go on.

I can't, Trace.

Can't do to police to sling their hook.

I'll get it.

It's Colin.

Oh, no. You haven't had burglaries, have you?

Not with two coppers on the primitive.

Yeah, well, they won't be here for much longer. Because Sharon's just on her way

up to tell him to sling their hook.

I can't, Trace.

Can't you tell him, Cole?

What? How can I? He's a D .I.

Look, I'm sorry, Trace. I mean, talk about bad career move.

Right, I will.

They're in there, only they said not to disturb them under any circumstances.

They're not doing anyone any harm, are they, Tracey? You can't just barge in,

Trace. They could be in the middle of a really delicate operation.

Excuse me.

Sorry to disturb you, but it's Mrs Stubbs. Only we found out he ain't in a

French connection.

So I expect you'll be wanting to get back to the station there.

Go away.

I want to do something big here.

Go away?

This is my house.

playing? Hide the truncheon?

So that little scrubber weren't even a policewoman?

No. And it seems Dunford's been having a bit on the side with her for about

three months now.

She works in John Lewis, lives in Gantill with her mum. And he's married

kids, the dirty sod.

The thing I don't understand is why do it in my bed?

When you can book into a sleazy hotel like normal people do.

Well, that's obvious, isn't it? They'd have to pay for an hotel.

They conned me into letting them stay here for nothing, and I had to make them

all that vegan food.

It's his wife I feel sorry for.

What?

That's rich coming from the woman that's tested more beds than Slumberland's

quality control department.

Anyway, Dunford knew Tracy could never say no to his little request.

So when Sharon gave me the nod, Dunford took a week's paid leave, told his

missus he was on a course in Huddersfield.

Why Huddersfield?

Does it matter?

Of course it matters.

She's never used a course in Huddersfield before, have you?

And then he dresses his girlfriend in a hired police uniform and the rest is

history. It's a brilliant ruse, provided, of course, the sheets aren't

nylon. But what I don't understand is, if they spent all their time in

delicto... What's that mean, then? Giving her one?

Did they bring all that expensive video equipment along?

Good point, though.

God, I hope it's not Betamax.

With all...