All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather s08e03 The Maids Of Ongar

No.

You silly cow, I nearly dropped it.
Nearly dropped it in at the pawnbrokers

along with the other three.

You'd think I was going to pawn them.

Weren't you?

No.

I was taking them to Sotheby's.

I don't suppose the fact that they ain't
yours would have stopped you?

They are mine.

Well, yours and mine.

Family heirloom. Come on, Trace, be
reasonable.

You want to make a go at this cleaning
business, don't you?

Mate -a -bonger was my idea, if you
remember rightly.

My idea?

No, it wasn't. It can't have been.

And why not?

Because it involves careful planning,
determination and hard work.

They are not things you're good at.

What you're good at is eating and lying
down.

Excuse me?

I was under the doctor.

I was allergic.

If you was allergic, you'd want to lie
down.

Put them on a light down with a deep pan
American hot, large chips, curry sauce

and a frozen Mars bar.

They were on my diet sheet.

I was just mixing and matching.

Anyway, it was comfort eating.

Not for any one damn wind it wasn't.

Anyway, these are Aunt Sylvie's. Put
them away.

They're not going under the hammer.

We never use them.

They've been in a cupboard since Aunt
Sylvie passed on.

She kept them in a cupboard.

Probably never even had their bottoms
wet.

More than can be said for some.

Your point?

Sentimental value.

Sharon, some families have an old
painting or a bit of a sculpture.

Some have a silver service. Some have a
wash name you write on when the flat

comes down.

We've got a set of genuine Victorian
goblets and they're not going to the

room. You see genuine Victorian goblets?

I see industrial polishers.

I see a small fleet of bagless vacs.

Why do they call them goblets? Do people
use their... No.

You're just bitter.

Now, give us a sit here.

No, we need the money. Come on. No. Give
me it.

Anyway, we ain't going to raise the kind
of money we need, flogging off domestic

bits and pieces, not unless the previous
owners have left a Rembrandt in the

attic.

How would they get a piano up there?

They're very tasteful.

What on earth did they happen to be in
your possession?

Do you like them, Dawn? We've got four.

Well, I'm more of a fast -on -to
-beneath person, Sharon. Surely you can

that.

Back on what?

Twenty pounds glass.

They're not glass. It's their goblets.

Fifty.

As someone who thinks that Chippendale
Draws is another name for a posing

you are the last person to judge them.

Thirty. Last offer.

They're not for sale.

And you've got no pride.

That lot of youse pride is when you get
to the checkout with a trolley full of

gear and they go to swipe your card and
it says no chance and some bloke in a

nylon shirt wheels off your trolley and
you're running after him shouting, could

I just have the always and the tandoori
selection?

I think I'll put these somewhere safe.

31. 35.

32 and a half.

You're going to get through 12 strong
lagers in an evening. I'll have a bottle

bank put in the garden.

Brown glass, green glass, clear glass,
lazy mare's empties.

Dustpan, brush, now.

And mine the glass is.

Goblet.

There's something wrong, Tracy. I can
see it in your expression.

It's a sort of...

I'm a middle -aged mother -to -be with
no visible means of support and a

who can't stay out of jail sort of
expression. Quite common, really.

So's the ageing type with crow's feet
who failed the pencil test look.

And my husband left me for a woman that
owns a blender and shops at C &A, look.

Sharon's right, though. I mean, we're
never going to get the maids of Ongar

shaking and vacuuming without a cash
flow. Well, how much do you need?

Oh, I'm right, am I?

Well, that's good to hear.

A moment ago, I was a heartless, lager
-swilling cow who wanted to put memory

lane up for development.

What's the ballpark figure? You are a
heartless, lager -swilling cow, but we

need an injection of capital.

How big an injection? So where's it
coming from?

Well, I... You expect me to stand on a
corner in fishnets and lorix swinging me

handbags? Kate, you're not interested.
Forget I ever made you the offer. No,

thanks. I don't fancy going to buy a
turbocharged floor buffer with a

wheelbarrow full of small change.

What offer?

Door! Door! Door!

What offer? How much?

How much do you need?

Lots. How much have you got?

Well, I've just come into a small amount
of money and I'm looking for a suitable

investment.

How small?

Not that small.

Well, go on. On the big side of small.

Biggish.

Quite big.

Is it legit?

I resent that.

Every penny I ever spent came to me by
hard work.

Every penny you ever spent you got by
being married to Marcus. Exactly. Hard

work.

So where did this nest egg come from?

Well, before I left Chigwell, I took
some of Marcus's documents to be

photocopied.

Lots of documents, actually.

Everything I could lay my hands on.

I found an offshore account I hadn't
spotted before.

So the money's not legit, then?

I didn't nick it. You didn't nick it.
She didn't nick it. It's legit.

How much?

Enough to cover the Maids of Ongo with a
little leftover for essentials.

Armani, De Beers, the Maldives. She
hasn't nicked it yet, but she's going to

nick it.

A woman on her own has to take her
chances. My back is against the wall.

A familiar position.

Anyway, Marcus wants me to have it.

He said, I realise I am the erring
party.

I have deceived you for years.

with someone from planet Draylon.

Take the money. Empty the account.

It's yours.

No, he didn't.

No, he didn't. He accused me of serial
infidelity.

Serial? Make the archers look like
newsflash.

Still, it was generous of him.

Well, yes and no. I threatened to send
an anonymous letter to the Inland

Revenue.

So how much were you thinking of,
Dorian?

And what sort of interest rate?

A loan.

No, I wasn't thinking of a loan, Tracy.

I was thinking more of a direct
involvement.

Bucket of suds and a stiff brush.

Part of you are down and around the
knees with a smile on her face.

No, many have.

I was thinking more Maids of Ongar, PLC,
Chief Exec, Dee Green.

You're joking.

You want the profit without any of the
graft.

Whose money is it?

I am looking for an investment
opportunity, not a job as a skivvy.

There are others who wouldn't sneer at
the offer of a cash injection. You need

figurehead. If I remember rightly, a
figurehead hangs off the front end of a

boat showing a frothy bit.

Not quite the image we're looking for.

Tracy, what others do?

I mean a little frock shop.

Design a sample.

Ethnic jewellery as a sideline.

Potential gold mine. Hainaut Parade,
eager for a sponsor.

And about, we haven't said no, have we,
Tracy?

Yes. No.

You're looking a gift horse in the
mouth.

Nothing personal, Dorian.

What's the matter, Tracy? My money not
good enough for you? It's not the money,

Dor. It's you.

We want to run our business our way. No
interfering.

What makes you think I would interfere?

Dorian, there are only two things you're
famous for. And the second one is

poking your nose in.

It was a genuine suggestion made in the
spirit of friendship.

If you choose to reject it, my response
can only be to withdraw the offer while

maintaining a civilised and tolerant
attitude.

You made a big mistake, Tracy.

Rule number one when you're totally...
and someone offers to lend you money,

not to get on their bristles.

Do you really want Dorian for our boss?

Well, since you ask, I'd sooner be Noel
Edmonds' sex slave.

It was a good offer, Trace.

Where else are we going to go for the
money?

We're a small business. We need a start
-up loan.

Where does anyone else go to get money?

We'll go to the bank.

OK.

Hello?

to make an appointment with your small
businesses manager.

Stubbs. Ms.

Yeah, okay, that'll be fine.

Thank you.

Tracy Stubbs and Sharon
Theodopoulopoulos.

Theo.

Yes. Doppo.

Yes.

Loppo.

Yes. Doz.

Ms.

No, not Theodopoulopoulos, Ms.

Yeah, okay then.

Right. See you then. Bye.

I'm ready.

Have a seat.

I'm Martin Mann.

Which muzz are you?

Stubbs. So you're Muzz Theodopolopoulos.

Yes, that's right.

And how can I help you?

We've had a vision, Mr Mann.

It's a vision of two women with
ambition, assertiveness... And a bloody

tub of carpet shampoo.

We'll do houses. We'll do hoffices.

We'll do banks.

We'll offer competitive rates.

We'll pay our workers a fair wage. We'll
cut corners.

We'll plough the profits back.

We'll give the best service.

Because we are determined to make it
work, Mr Man.

We just need a helping hand. A leg over.

We also need some dosh.

Mr Mann.

We're not asking you to speculate.

We're not asking you to take a risk.

This is a sure thing, Mr Mann.

A small business that one day will be a
big business.

A stake in the future.

We're not asking for a bed of roses.

We're just asking you to give us a
chance.

What do you say, Mr Mann?

Well, as you know, we're a listening
bank that likes to say yes.

Great. Oh, we like to say yes to new
ideas, yes to enterprising people, yes

initiatives. Oh, fabulous.

However, I'm afraid it's our policy
always to say no to the wives of men who

into our bank waving a sawn -off shotgun
and yelling, hand over the money, you

rat -faced bastard.

I was that rat -faced boss.

I take it that's a no, Mr Mann.

I'm not asking her, you ask her.

It was you that stuck your fingers up at
her money.

I was being cautious.

Cautious.

Slapping the face with a wet fish, I'd
say.

Poking the eye with a sharp stick, I'd
say.

Cutting your nose? Yeah, I think we get
the picture.

You'll have to apologise.

Apologise, grovel, beg, roll over and
show her you're washing.

And what are you going to do when she's
around morning, noon and night, telling

her they had to run our business?

Rough guess.

Tell her to shut her gob.

Look, Dorian, I might have been a bit...
Tracy, you'll have to speak up a

little. The noise of the machine is
drowning you out.

She says she's sorry if she was rude,
and we'd both like to take advantage of

your kind offer.

Partnership basis? Partnership basis.

Full consultation rights? Full
consultation rights. Name on the

Partnership basis, full consultation
rights, name on the notepaper. And no

bloody interfering.

Thanks for the offer.

maze of hunger would be a worthwhile
investment.

I've just received a very interesting
and well thought out prospectus from

sample this.

Remember the little dress shop I
mentioned?

Could be any old rubbish.

It could be my second cousin's daughter
Crystal and her friend who used to cut

for Vivian Westwood.

So you know our store?

Precisely.

I think I need some convincing evidence.

After all, it won't be just my money
I'll be bringing to the venture. No,

Marcus's. It would be a certain touch of
class with my background.

My standing, my... How shall I put it?

My accent.

Well, you'd be clearing away the Royal
Worcester and putting smoked salmon into

cling film.

Not standing up to your ankles in sweet
sherry and coronation chicken.

Come on, Dore.

We were wrong. We need you.

Your cash, our labour, joint management.
What do you say?

I say impress me.

I say, make me believe.

I say, maybe tomorrow afternoon, 3 .30
at the Millstream Hotel.

I say, shut the door on the way out.

This hotel, isn't this where Dora had
some bloke or another?

Probably. Yeah, she pulled the catering
manager.

Got the full silver service.

Apparently the staff had to wear formal
dress the whole time.

Did they?

She said he had a stiff dickie.

Come on then.

Sammy tells me we're not just here for
afternoon tea and scoops.

Oh, punctual. Good start.

This is Peter, a friend of mine. He is
the ultimate opinion.

Yeah?

So tell us then, Peter, how did she do
on a scale of one to two?

Opinion about what, Dore?

Here is the test, and here is the judge.

Get this cleaned up to Peter's
professional satisfaction and I will

maids of Ongar is a worthwhile
investment.

This has got to be joking.

Your cash, our labour.

Isn't that what you said?

Right. Well, I've got some shopping to
do.

Interesting little place called Sample
This.

Peter and I will be back at six o 'clock
to check on your work.

Come on, Peter.

I'll buy you a drink.

For old time's sake.

You'll need these.

Security ID.

And this.

Checklist. Tables, chairs, cutlery,
glasses.

And et cetera.

No.

No chance.

She's only doing this out of spite.

It's humiliating.

You're right. She is.

Well, what do you suggest we do? Leg it
and tell her to shove her money?

Definitely. Oh,

you've changed your tune. Who was it
made me apologise?

This is different, Trace. This is a
major league piss take.

You was right and I was wrong.

We need Dorian. Without her investment,
we're up the creek no paddle.

A hole in the boat and a shoal of
piranha fish licking their chops.

I want to make a go of this show.

I've had enough of no money, no job,
pinching from this one to pay that one.

But we can do this.

I want a bit of independence, a bit of
self -respect.

If she does that, I'll chin her.

Come on, let's get going.

I'll have to leave you to it, Dorian.

Sorry, I'm getting ready for a
publisher's sales conference.

Drunken brawls, bed hopping, possible
drugs raid.

Have a drink on the house. OK, thanks.

Peter, it was fun while it lasted.

It was, Dorian.

Thanks. And things are OK for you now,
are they?

Yeah, fine.

The fact is, I've just got engaged.

Oh, that's great.

Who to? Oh, you don't know her. She's,
you know, someone my own age.

Dorian, I didn't mean... No.

Well, I hope she's nice to you.

You deserve it.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Are you partially sighted or something?

Charming.

You won't need all this. It's all
supplied.

A banqueting suite, too.

Banqueting suite? Now, love, we're here
to do the kitchens. You're him indoors.

Yeah, that's us.

Banqueting suite, too. First, kitchen,
second.

Oh, you mean.

Is there a problem, Mrs.

Featherstone? Mrs. Featherstone. Paul?

I'm the deputy catering manager. My
colleague here, Mrs.

Gupta.

I spoke to your people earlier today.

It's on the job sheet.

Banqueting suite two, a priority.

Must be finished by... Five -thirty.

Five -thirty.

It's another cock -up, lads.

Banqueting suite two it is.

Whore.

That's how you say it.

Aunt Shelby's goblet. What have you got
them out again for?

We're celebrating.

It's a bit early. to celebrate if you
want my opinion.

I don't.

We're getting sloshed on free champagne.

Don't have to be a special occasion.

It's thieving.

It's paid for. The staff would have had
her.

Suits us though, doesn't it?

What does?

Drinking champagne.

I mean, we'll be the bosses, won't we?

You won't be able to go charring in your
condition.

Yeah, we'll have to hire a workforce.

Stands to reason.

And what will your excuse be?

Executive delegation, Chase.

That's where my talents lie.

It's like we've just done, isn't it?

It's called job targeting.

Well, I hope they'd finish before Dorian
got back.

Dor said six.

We told them our five.

Now, allowing for the fact there was
four of them to two of us, and allowing

the fact that Dorian's never been
shopping and got back on time, I reckon

walk in here with a great big grin on
her face and say how impressed she was.

Well, I'm impressed.

Told you.

Everything after scratch was it done.

Peter gave it an A1 rating. Well, I must
say, I can't disagree with that.

Spick and span?

Absolutely. Right as ninepins?
Definitely.

Clean as a new pin.

No doubt about it.

I bet it came as a surprise, your ex
passing as A1.

So, come on, Dore.

Equal partners. Oh, you've seen what we
can do. I have, Sharon.

I saw the banqueting hall before.

I saw the banqueting hall after.

I saw a gleam on the tables and a
sparkle on the glassware.

I saw the carpets shampooed and
hoovered.

I saw a hunky little man in a boiler
suit who asked me if I was happy.

I gave him a brief resume of my recent
emotional ups and downs, but I don't

think that's what he wanted to know.

He wanted to know if I was happy with
the job that he and his fellow workers

done on the banqueting hall.

And would the manager be happy?

And Mrs Featherstone.

Oh, pardon?

Let me explain, Dor.

Go on, then.

There is a perfectly simple explanation.

I have got an explanation.

And it is perfectly simple.

Yes?

I'll explain, Dore.

We conned those blokes into doing it,
nicked half a dozen bottles of

then shut our phone.

So now you know what you can do with
your money, don't you?

Yes, I do, Tracy.

Invested in the Maids of Anger.

But we pulled a flanker.

Initiative, Sharon. Very impressive.

We offloaded the job and scarpered.

Conservation of resources.

We stole the champagne.

Low cunning.

The most important attribute to the
successful businessman I knew. I could

on you for that.

How did you smuggle it out, by the way?

Think Spider -Man.

So what's the deal, doll?

Partners?

Partners.

Partners.

So what about the little frock shop?

Did sound more your sort of thing, doll.
I mean, I've never really thought of

you as a plunger and a damp squeegee.

No comment.

No, I decided it was an unattractive
proposition.

They were focusing more on the older end
of the market.

Sounds right up your street door.

Street door!

Right, well, we'll have to recruit some
help and find some permanent cleaning

staff. We'll scour the neighbourhood.

a job sent at first thing Monday
morning. No need. I've already placed an

How have you?

Wanted. Workers, male or female, must be
capable and willing.

Ain't good at cleaning door.

Then there's the hardware.

Oh, I love that word.

That. Polishes, sponges, mops, marigold.
I know a wearer. That'll do us a really

good deal.

I've got a catalogue.

Special discount for new businesses,
which we're not yet.

A business, I mean. All in hand. My
accountant is forming a limited company

us. I've had the cards printed.

I told you, she's taken over already.

What's this picture at the top?

That's our new logo.

Crossed Hoover nozzles.

Oh, that's a relief.

What's happened to my mop and bucket
design?

Too down market, Tracy.

Directors. Dorian Green, Tracy Stubbs,
Sharon Fiatopoulopoulos.

Alphabetical order, Sharon. It's
democratic.

Two crossed over nozzles looking like
willies.

That ain't down market, is it?

Theodopilopidas. F.

F comes before G.

I love my mop and bucket design.

Well, at least your name ain't last, is
it? Oh, shut up, you two.

We're going to make a great team. Your
organisational skills, my flair and good

taste, and Sharon's ability to
communicate with the most stupid members

workforce.

So...

A toast.

The Maids of Ongar.

The Maids of Ongar.