Original subtitles

What will I do when you are gone?

Sharon. I desperately need your help.

I need you to tell Marcus that you and I were at the cinema last Saturday.

What did we go and see?

Well, I was going to tell him we went to see Babe, but I didn't want you to be

offended by a film about a talking pig.

We went to see...

brave heart instead.

Which is more me anyway, as you can see right up Mel Gibson's kilt during the

disembowelment scene.

All right, Dawn.

Oh, yes. Hello, Tracy.

Just filling Sharon in on my marvellously complicated love life with

Oh, you'll have to give me some tips.

Daryl's out in seven days.

Not forgetting your amorous little Greek, Sharon.

I bet you can't wait to move into somewhere more suitable.

Like an abandoned packing crate.

I don't need all this stuff. I've got enough on me plate.

Yes, I can hear that, Sharon.

What is that you're slurping?

Oysters in a white wine sauce.

Oi, they're Daryl's. They're his aphrodisiac.

What? You know, to get him going.

Stopping him will be the problem.

When he gets home, he'll be at you like a dog at a frisbee.

I just want things to be romantic when he gets out. It's got to be perfect.

Oh, it will be, Tracy.

Beluga caviar eaten on a bed of roses.

Unlike poor Sharon, who can only look forward to a date -expired tarama salata

and second -hand bedding.

Did you come round here with the sole purpose of winding me up? No.

Stuffed little booners.

Well, you picked the wrong day and the wrong woman. OK, OK, let's not discuss

your future.

We'll leave that to whichever Labour council is forced to rehouse you. Now,

let's talk.

About what you are going to tell Marcus.

I am sick and tired of lying for you, Dorian.

It's like an adulterous answer service here.

Right, well, we might as well get Bob Hoskins to advertise it.

Yeah, it's good to pork.

What's a little white lie between friends?

Newsflash, I am not on this planet just to cover up for you.

I don't know what you mean.

Yes, you do.

You're a user.

You use people.

Even when you pretend to do something thoughtful, there's always some sneaky

little ulterior motive.

That's a lie.

What about the time I got you membership for the tennis club? You'd never have

got in without me.

She's right, Dore. You only did it so we'd vote for you in their election.

But, Sharon, I helped you sell your little cafe, didn't I?

Only because you wanted to get your hands on the commission so you could go

holiday.

I may be a bit slow, Dore.

But I know a user when I see one.

All right, Cheryl, calm down.

No, Trace. I might not get another chance to say this.

Our lives are about to be turned upside down with the boys coming out.

And all Vampirella here can think about is using me to lie for her.

Again. It'd be lovely if just for once you walked through that door wanting to

help. Some act of kindness that somehow didn't benefit you. But it won't happen,

will it, door? And do you know why?

even for you. I'm sorry, Trace. It had to be said.

I haven't got the time for Dorian's garbage.

I'm dreading the boys coming out.

I know Daryl's going to treat me like something the cat did in the corner.

For God's sake, stop whinging.

I ain't whinging.

I'm too knackered to whinge. You are, you're whinging.

No, I'm not.

Most nights I've barely got the strength to have a bath and slap on the roca

cream before I nod off in front of Michael Fish.

Whinge, whinge, whinge, whinge, whinge.

Well, it's all right for you, isn't it?

got something to look forward to.

What have I got to look forward to?

Chris.

I know he ain't exactly Brad Pitt.

More cesspit.

Where am I going, Trace?

A new whiff, eh?

You won't want a gooseberry like me around when Dale gets home, will you?

Oh, you're right, I won't.

Oh, thanks a lot.

That's why you're going to need all the friends you can get, including Dorian.

You are joking.

is a leech with a manicure.

She bleeds me dry, Trace.

Did have a go, though, didn't I?

You are a user.

Really good.

I think I'm going to pop a couple of lean cuisines in the microwave. Do you

one?

Garfield's taking me to that Nutratoria, Tessa Pepe's.

Isn't that Italian for toilet?

So, what's the little so -and -so battering you up for now, then?

You have got a very suspicious mind. We are just enjoying a lovely evening out

together.

Give him a kiss from his auntie, Sharon.

And you have an Italian sausage on me.

I won't. I think Dorian's already had a chunk out of every Italian sausage

there.

Mrs. Green, is your daughter Dorian in?

Dora?

It's me, Babe, the talking pig.

I was out of order earlier.

The truth hurts, Sharon.

And you were spot on.

Was I?

I know I'm selfish, Sharon.

I've always been selfish.

But the thing is, when Daryl comes home and you have to leave, who am I going to

have to rely on?

I don't mind lying to Marcus. The point is, you were right, Sharon.

But I'm going to change.

I really am.

I mean, I may still have sex with virtual strangers for the time being.

But I am going to be a little more considerate.

But we may not see much of each other in the future, Sharon.

I mean, quite frankly, I can't see myself getting a filthy cab to Hackney

to visit you in a council flat.

It's not that I'm a snob. I mean, I...

No, I just couldn't go. I just couldn't. I mean, the thought just... Yeah, all

right, calm down, doll.

No council flats around here. I mean, it's the thought of just mingling with

great unwashed.

Cashing their gyros and driving their Ford Cortinas.

I am just not a kebab and karaoke girl.

So, before you leave the luxury of Brian Close, I have decided to give you a

day out.

On me.

A gift with no strings attached.

Something sophisticated.

One last sip from the cup of class before you go back to gargling from the

chipped mug of poverty.

Oh, I feel so much better now.

Right. I'm going to make you a delicious cup of char.

That is what you people call it, isn't it?

Have a nice time.

You were right about Garfield, the little sod.

Ha -ha.

My uncanny powers of the mind triumph again.

What did he want?

He didn't want anything. He wanted to tell me something.

He's got his girlfriend pregnant.

No.

He wants to have his nipples pierced.

No.

He wants her to have her nipples pierced.

This is not university challenge. This is my son we're discussing and you'll

never get in a million years.

He got drunk with a load of mates, got arrested, and his court appearance is on

Thursday.

He already told you?

Of course he told me.

Then why didn't you tell me?

Why am I always the last to know everything in this house?

And this is how Daryl started, and I ain't having him going down the same

No big deal, Trace.

A bunch of lads get drunk on a stag night, get caught, tie in the groom,

naked.

To a sheep.

Outside Romford.

And that ain't a big deal?

Course it ain't.

If that Damien Hurst did it, they'd call it art.

But he'll get a criminal record.

He'll probably just get a caution.

But did he also tell you that one of his mates went one better and nicked a car

radio?

No. What for?

So he could tie it to the sheep.

He reckoned the music might calm it down a bit.

Yeah, but that ain't Garth's fault, is it?

I mean, he was just an innocent bystander.

Rat arse, but innocent.

But they all got arrested.

I can't believe it.

I finally got Daryl coming home and there's a good chance he'll pass Garthie

his way in.

Well, he's made his bed. He'll have to lie in it.

That reminds me. Have you apologised to Dorian? Did she forgive you?

Worse. She wants to be my best... Friend.

Me having a go at her has made her realise how selfish she is.

Now she wants to make up for the last seven years by treating me to a lovely

out.

I think I'd rather eat ground glass.

At least she's trying.

But the trouble is, Dorian is naturally selfish.

I mean, she can't help it.

Her idea of being unselfish is to drag me along to something that only she

possibly enjoy.

Like a...

Toxiel Farm, where you can have all the radishes you can eat.

Or the opera.

Or, God forbid, both.

You never know, Shell.

You've never been to the opera. You might enjoy it.

If I want to hear some beefy bird warbling Italian, I can listen to myself

the bath doing the Cornetto act.

No, Trace.

If it ain't a trip round Cadbury World, I ain't going.

No sheep to terrorise today, Garth?

Never mind, you can always set fire to a passing police officer.

Mum, you're overreacting.

Am I?

Look, you of all people should know where this kind of thing can end up.

you learn anything from your father?

Well, as it happens, no. He was never around.

Look, you're being ridiculous if you're comparing armed robbery to getting a bit

leery on a stag night.

Who said stag night?

That phrase has such resonance.

Garth had gone and got himself arrested for drunken disorderly.

Oh, Garth is first arrest. You must be so proud.

Shall I go get my camera?

This is a Kodak moment.

Dorian, this is serious.

Then one of his stupid mates went and nicked a radio and now they've all been

charged. Well, why don't you phone the police and tell them the culprit's name?

Yeah, well, that's what I'm going to do.

Tracy, are you all right?

I can't believe I'm hearing this.

Your father wouldn't be able to hold his head up in free association if he'd

heard you say that.

Say what?

That you're going to grass up a mate.

For years we've been the only house in Brian Close that's refused to watch

Watch on principle.

And you're willing to throw all that away?

Mum, that is silly.

No, it's not silly, Garth. It's a way of life. So, by your rule, if you saw

someone you knew drink a bottle of vodka, get into his car and then

mow down a bus... you, you couldn't possibly grass them because it's not

allowed.

That's a tough one.

We'll have to discuss it with Sharon when she gets back.

Anyway, that's the end of it. You're not grassing. But Mum, I'll get a criminal

record. You should have thought that before you traumatised that poor sheep.

You're not making this very easy for me. I'm not discussing it no more and

that's the end of it.

And what do you want? Someone to lie to your old man as usual?

I'm beginning to feel like Sharon.

No, Tracy.

Nothing like that.

Now, you know I promised Sharon a wonderful day out. Well, it is all

for Wednesday.

First of all, a limo will pick us up at 7am and whisk us off to the most

fabulous health farm in the country.

Health farm. She'll love it.

The Snaresbrook Centre for Stress, Strength and Shape.

It's perfect.

Sharon will thank me for it. Oh, yes. You know how Sharon likes to deprive

herself of life's little luxuries.

I've booked her into the pelvic special.

The thick, oily mud is smoothed all over the torso and solidifies.

And then a tall Swede slaps you about a bit with a strand of salty seaweed.

Why, ain't they got a pillow?

Don't be silly, Tracy. We'll be meditating.

But the best bit, at seven o 'clock... The taxi whisks us off to Covent Garden

for a night at the opera.

She'll love it. She'll be speechless.

Of course

I'll be there.

Bye.

Sharon, what is it? Are you all right?

I've just had some bad news.

Oh, no, I'd better sit down.

A school friend of mine's died.

I've only just heard.

Oh, no.

Who is it?

A girl I used to hang around with in the third year.

Louise Cathcart?

No, Trace, not Louise Cathcart.

Caroline Jones?

No, not her, Trace.

Melanie?

No,

Trace, Trace, not Melanie. It was a secret friend. You didn't really know

I've got to go and have a lie down. I'm so upset.

I need to get something new for the funeral on Wednesday.

It's you, I thought the story was over.

I've got to walk around with a face like a flapped arse till Wednesday.

This is my last week of peace before Chris gets out and I ain't spending it

her. You should go to the opera. What else are you going to be doing on

Wednesday?

Funny you should ask.

Morning, cancelled due to the likelihood of not getting up.

Afternoon, sit in bed with crisps and videos.

Have a leisurely bath while eating various pastries.

How's John McGough?

Don't ask.

He said he'd think about what I said.

I've got a feeling that posh door's warped him, turned him into a grass.

All that money and for what? A weasel with an accent.

Don't worry, Trace. I'll speak to him tomorrow.

Oh, hello,

door. I'm still so upset.

I don't think I'll be able to keep together on Wednesday.

That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Sharon.

I don't know if Tracy had mentioned anything, but, well, I had planned a

day out for us on Wednesday.

Oh, no, Dore.

Oh, what a shame.

I've got to pay my respects, though. You do understand.

Oh, of course I do. What sort of friend would I be if I didn't understand?

I'm just not like that anymore.

Oh, I'll get my own cup, shall I, Tracy?

Spooky, isn't it, Tracy?

It's like that film Invasion of the Body Snatchers, where evil pods take over

other people's identities.

Of course, in this case, it's an evil pod that's been taken over by a nice

person.

You moan when she's nasty, you moan when she's nice, she can't win.

Why don't you try being nice to her for a change?

Oh, I don't think I could, Trace.

I think I'm probably way too nice already.

That's why I have to pretend to be a sarky, ignorant bitch, so that people

take advantage of my charitable nature.

You seem to be a little more cheerful now, Sharon. Two sugars, please.

I'm glad you got over the initial shock of Guffer's death.

Gripador?

It was gripper.

I don't want to talk about it. I'll get upset again.

No, I know, Sharon.

And I decided there was something I could do for you.

Stay there. I've got something to show you. I bet she's been out and bought you

something expensive, you know, to cheer you up.

Might be some nice jewellery or some posh scent.

For you, Sharon.

For the funeral.

Oh, door. It's lovely.

Yes, well, it should be.

It was made from three Amanda Wakely originals.

You see, Sharon, I realise that the day out I had planned for us was really just

an excuse for me to go to a health farm, which I knew you would have hated.

I didn't plan a day out for you, I planned a day out for me.

And I was just going to assist you tag along.

You're being too hard on yourself, Dore. That must have cost a fortune.

Sharon?

Oh, yeah, I'm grateful, Dore.

Honest, I am.

I'll be the classiest bird at the funeral.

The classiest pair of birds at the funeral.

I'm going with you.

We've got three possible funerals.

There's Helen Pilkington Smythe, run over by a milk float in Sneersbrook.

She's 38, which would be right, but the surname's a bit posh, isn't it?

Dorian might get suspicious.

In our school, having one name was considered flesh.

Sharon, we shouldn't be doing this. It's wrong.

It's an emergency.

Oh, it's more in O 'Hara. Fell off a seesaw in Victoria Park.

O 'Hara's Irish, isn't it?

Means there'll be coatsloads of brothers and sisters I'll be expected to know.

And slightly narked at having a complete pair of strangers turn up.

Or we've got Kerry Young.

Lived just down the road. 38, local.

Seems like Kerry could be our corpse of the week.

You're sick, do you know that?

Look, why don't you just tell Dorian the truth and offer to go to the opera as

an apology?

What, and they'll catch me out as a lying tow rag?

You are a lying tow rag.

Yeah, but I don't want her to know that, do I?

It's your funeral.

And I'll cry if I want to.

What are you doing, Sharon?

I'm trying to get my fulsome yet erotic breasts into this thudding outfit.

It's like trying to squeeze a marrow into a Japanese condom.

Healthy girl, the La Croix, but could you please show a little more respect?

Anyway, haven't you got a minimiser?

What's a minimiser?

I cannot believe a woman of your proportion is unfamiliar with a

It's the opposite of a wonder bra.

Instead of pushing you up... and together it flattens down the larger

convenience and comfort.

Home -delivered pizza is for convenience and comfort.

I like my breasts the way God intended.

God must have had a lie down after he constructed that particular pair.

Firstly, Dore, you are meant to be here to support me in my hour of need.

And secondly, at least my breasts are in the same place they were ten years ago.

You know your trouble, Sharon. You are passive -aggressive. No, daughter, I'm

aggressive -aggressive.

Now, can we put the lid on the bitching just for today?

We're going to be burying poor Gripper in a couple of hours.

Where's Mum?

I've got to sort this court case business out. She's doing a pool

some lottery winners.

They want it in the shape of Anthea Turner.

Oh, there's the taxi. Don't be long.

Listen, Garth, don't worry about your mum.

She's a bit over the top because your old man's coming out.

I don't want to upset Mum. It's just that I'm not as familiar with criminal

etiquette as you two.

I mean, yeah, he's a mate and everything, but Mum would rather I risk

prison than just tell the truth.

Look, Garth, your mum feels that the police took your dad away.

Deep down, she still believes he's innocent.

This coming so close to his release date means she's a bit wound up, that's all.

You're going to have to sort it out, Garth. It's your problem.

Sharon!

God knows I've got enough of me own.

there to go via a drive -through Burger King.

Was it really necessary to write your phone number in lipstick on that cab

driver's partition?

I didn't say it was your husband's funeral.

Well, I just wanted to let him know that I was available.

Well, here we are.

Brick of last stop.

Now, Nathan, look about your sordid childhood, Sharon.

What was this friend of yours really like?

Oh, you know, kept herself to herself.

Quiet, really.

How lovely of you to come for carrying.

He would have been absolutely over the moon.

He?

He was a she the last time we did PE together.

It was 20 years ago, Dor.

I hope she got bored.

Free world?

Did this Kerry have a nickname?

Gripper, for instance.

No, I don't think so, love.

But I've known a few grippers in my time.

You have absolutely no idea who any of these people are, do you, Sharon?

No, Dawn.

And you don't know the deceased either, do you, Sharon?

No, Dawn.

In fact, we are intruding.

At the funeral of a complete stranger.

Because you could not bear to spend the day with me.

Yes, darling.

Oh, well.

Cheer up, Sharon.

It means we've got time for the magic flute.

It's the new version. Five and a half hours.

And then before that, we'll make it to the beauty parlor.

A little light lunch, a couple of lettuce leaves, a bowl of lentil soup.

You can have a bikini wax and we'll try and get rid of your moustache.

How'd it go?

Hello, gorgeous.

Never mind gorgeous. What are you going to do? This court case is in the

morning. No, it's not. I'm free as a bird.

What? You haven't grafted on him? No.

David went round the police station himself and came clean.

Yeah? How'd he change his mind then?

Well... I appealed to his sense of honour, his decency, reminded him how

we've been friends.

Yeah? Yeah, and when that didn't work, I went round his flat and beat the living

crap out of him.

seven and a half hours of this, and now it's your turn.