All language subtitles for Birds of a Feather s11e03 Guess Whos Coming to Essex.eng

What'll I do when you are far

away and I am blue?

What'll I do when I'm alone?

I must be your biggest fan.

Oh, they all say that.

And I want to thank you for changing my
life.

Oh, bless.

For without you, I would never have
known Simon and Dominic. Ooh, a

Filthy animals.

My beautiful twin boys.

Oh, bless.

Born nine months to the night of your
one... This wonderful memoir rekindled

marital flame.

In a very real way, you are their
godmother.

I don't know why anyone would assume
that I've been the least bit interested

their mewling, puking offspring.

Because everyone loves baby.

Well, not I.

Babies are dull and boring.

They've got no conversation.

They can't walk.

The doubly incontinent.

So will you be if you don't get off that
thing.

It's not a thing.

It's a state -of -the -art mini -tramp.

Yeah, well, it takes one to know one.

Dear Mrs Green, I know this is a letter

you may have been hoping or dreading to
receive.

What's all that about, then?

Nothing.

Just... Some sad, deluded eccentric.

Write it to yourself now, Doc.

That is personal. Yes, I know.

Writing this has been painful and
difficult.

Probably got arthritis.

Nevertheless, deep in my heart, I
believe you would want to meet me, the

daughter you gave up for adoption 50
years ago.

a nutter.

It's not true, is it, door?

None of your business.

Either of you.

Well, there's a turn -up for the book.

You can't stay up there forever, door.

Tell her we won't judge her, Trace. We
won't judge you, door.

Oh,

All these years, she's kept this secret
from us.

And us, we're only friends.

You don't get it, do you?

Not as often as I'd like, no.

I mean, all these years, she's had to
deny the most important event in her

Poor car.

Oh, she's made her bed.

She's got a lie in it.

Maybe it weren't a bed.

Maybe it was the back seat of a Ford
Sierra.

Or a B &Q car park.

No, that was you.

Just as long as you're not judging me.

What were you doing up there?

Colour -coding my underwear.

Really?

Of course not, Tracey. That would take
days.

You are going to write back to her,
aren't you?

Certainly not. That is a chapter of my
life that is and will remain closed.

Now, there's a stack of fan mail.

You can't just ignore this, door.

Don't see why not.

Well, you know what they say, better out
than in. If she thought of that, she

wouldn't have got pregnant.

But you might have grandchildren, door.

Great -grandchildren? Yes.

Thank you, Sharon. I get the point.

Great -great -grandchildren.

Oh, for God's sake.

You're not going to let this drop, are
you?

No.

Come on, door.

Spill the beans.

Ooze the daddy.

I met Lionel when I was 17.

What, Lionel Blair?

Lionel Bart?

Lionel Ritchie?

Forget it.

Sorry, Dor, we'll listen, promise.

He was a year older than me.

Handsome, obviously.

Intelligent, funny.

He had a place at Cambridge.

His own flat.

Cambridge University.

Oh. All that summer we were inseparable,
but it wasn't to be.

Why wasn't it meant to be?

He came from a very religious family.

Oh, you mean with a furry hat and a
curly, whirly sideburn?

No, I mean his father was the Bishop of
Wilsdon.

He wasn't Jewish then.

So we had to break it off.

Then I discovered that I was, well, you
know.

So I had to term off school with
glandular fever.

Stress -related, was it?

And then I gave her up.

Oh, right.

Oh, door.

No, it was fine.

Easy.

Really straightforward.

And you never regretted it? Look, Tracy,
I've always been very fond of you.

Oh, and you, Sharon.

But it was a long time ago.

It was very painful for me. And I would
like just this once for you to respect

my privacy.

So you don't really hate kids, then?

Look, I'll do a deal.

You drop the subject, and I'll take you
out for a night of overpriced alco

-pops.

You know me so well.

Did you win, love?

No. Did you draw?

No. Lost, then?

Well done.

If you're interested, the Chigwell
players are looking for a Prince

their panto.

Little sod.

Kids, eh?

Who'd have them?

much when you come home, Travis, but...
Yeah, don't ask for much either.

Sorry. But I do expect people to knock
before they just barge in. It's only

manners. Manners?

What's manners about coming home and
dumping your smelly football kit in my

kitchen? And I'm not people.

I'm your mother. Yeah, don't I know it?
Look, you're on my case 24 -7.

Can I maybe have some privacy now?

Please?

Can't understand what's got into Travis.

He's a teenager.

It's a phase.

Well, Garth, you didn't have no phases.
How would you know? You sent him to

boarding school and you had yours
adopted.

I'm not going into that, Trace.

Sorry to bother you, ladies, but could
you keep an eye on Holly for a sec? And

if I don't get to the toilet, I'll
explode. Oh, yeah, of course. Give her

Oh, look.

Oh, hello.

We don't want mums exploding in
molotovs, do we, eh?

Oh, isn't she a cutie, doll? Look at
her. I suppose so. Do you like that kind

thing?

Oh, hold on.

Either I'm getting a text or this sofa
is vibrating.

Hang on a minute.

I'll get the red.

Cheers.

Good one.

Who's a pretty girl, then?

No, doll.

They're spudgies.

Someone please take this.

If you like.

She looks like the child catcher in
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Oh, is that scary old witchy poo
frightened you? Come here.

How can you be so heartless? She
dribbled on my Alice by temperly.

I'm talking about your long -lost
daughter.

She's desperate to meet you. Because she
needs closure.

And how would you know?

Because me and Tracy were adopted.

Were you?

You haven't forgotten I'm a busy woman.

We searched eye and eye for our mum and
dad. Never found them. And it's left a

huge gaping hole that no amount of two
-for -one cocktails can ever fill.

And that's exactly what your daughter's
going through.

Rubbish. I'll tell you why she suddenly
got in touch with me after all these

years.

Because she found out that I am Foxy
Cohen.

She waited until I became a best
-selling author, until she could be sure

was worth the bother.

She's a gold digger.

Impure and simple.

Right.

I need another drink.

Thought she was on to us then for a sec.

Me too.

Any luck?

No, not even your folly could melt that
ice excuse for an art.

Still, it was worth a try, eh?

Thanks, Teresa.

Well, any time you want to borrow her,
just ask.

Because motherhood's doing my head in.

Cheers.

So, I suppose that's that, then.

Suppose.

Unless... No.

How do you know what I was going to say?

Because I can read you like a book.

A kid's book with a very obvious plot.

Read my lips. You are not writing to
Naomi pretending to be Dorian, right?

Trace... It's none of our business.

Trace, if we're... And that's final.

I can't understand how Travis gets
through so many pairs of sock socks.

Nobody irons socks, Trace.

Has to.

He's got very sensitive feet.

You can take over if you like. I'd love
to, but I'm reading my book.

I'm trying to improve myself.

God knows there's room for it.

What are you reading, then?

Oliver Twist.

Please, sir, I want some more.

I love that film. When did they turn it
into a book?

Now, the book came first, Trace. Are you
sure?

It was written hundreds of years.

A searing insight into the issues of
abandonment and adoption.

And it's as relevant today as it was the
day it was published.

What's going on?

You having it off with the postman?

Not even Dorian could do it that quick.

you know, Sharon.

I don't have to tell you everything.

Perhaps your cuppa.

You're a rubbish liar.

I'm not lying.

No, you're changing the subject.

And you're rubbish at that and all.

Oh, my God.

I know what you've done. How could you,
Trace? I couldn't help it.

But why?

Because I'm a mother too.

And I know that deep down, Dorian would
be really glad that I wrote to her

daughter pretending to be her.

wrote to her daughter.

You just said you knew what I'd done.

I was bluffing.

After you telling me not to.

You hypocrite. I know, I know, but...
What if Dorian really doesn't want to

her daughter?

Suppose she isn't just pretending to be
a cold, heartless bitch.

She's still called Naomi.

I called her Naomi.

Normally they change the name.

I haven't slept for three nights.

I tried not to think about it, but I've
got to confront this. I've got to write

back to her.

No need.

I wrote to her.

What?

It's all right.

She pretended she was you.

How dare you?

Now she'll think I'm a semi -literate
c***. Comprehensive school dropouts!

Why don't you see for yourself?

Wait.

What? Here.

What is it?

Your football kit that I've spent all
morning ironing for you. I know you've

a game coming up.

Yeah, a home game.

This is my away kit.

Right. That's it.

And he's died of Naomi? Not yet.

What are you doing?

Mending Travis's football kit.

You do too much for that boy. Not for
much longer.

Blimey, who's died?

How do I look?

Nice. Dignified.

Just like a mummy should look.

I thought I could smell embalming fluid.

See, if I had to meet my daughter, at
least I wanted to see the real me.

And I think this is what the real me
looks like.

Where's my football kit?

Here. And I've done you a sandwich and a
nice lexuma for half -time.

You should have called me. I'll be late
now. Not if you hurry.

Have a nice time with your little pals.

When did he become so uncouth?

It's just something us mummies have to
put up with.

He'll get over it.

So will Sharon one day. Oh.

LAUGHTER Right, listen up.

Now, last year, we gave Desmond Tutu
Academy a right good idea, didn't we?

Yeah! Right, right. Now, this season has
been an influx of Romanian immigrants

into Loughton, and Desmond Tutu's got
themselves a new striker.

A fella called Com...

Stanton Neskew.

He's had 15 goals in nine matches.

Johnson, I want you to start when I do,
all right? You're Shimon's boss.

Let's get out of here, then!

Oi, oi, oi, oi, oi, oi, oi!

We've got a problem here.

It's cold outside, sir.

You know, the grounds rock hard. Don't
give me that stuff.

Man up.

helping. Did I? Sure, I'd remember.

Oh. What are you making?

I made egg mayo, tuna mayo and cheese
and pickle mayo.

I didn't do any ham just in case this
Naomi turns out to be Jewish.

Of course Naomi's Jewish.

If Dorian's Jewish, then she's Jewish.

Not that it'll bother Dor.

She eats ham, bacon, pork.

She'll put anything in her mouth.

Ridiculous, isn't it?

All my life I wanted nothing to do with
her. Most of the time she never even

crossed my mind.

And look at me.

Now I'm worried she won't turn up.

You have been happy with Naomi in your
life, haven't you, Dawn? Of course I

have. Perfectly happy.

I'm a world -famous writer with a string
of lovers.

Fabulous wardrobe.

More handbags than Harrods.

If I never meet her, how will I know if
she's happy?

Or if she takes after me?

They broke the mould when they made you
do.

Come into the kitchen, eh?

If she's coming, she'll get here, and if
she doesn't... Well, life goes on, eh?

Maybe her car broke down.

Maybe her train was delayed.

Maybe... Maybe she doesn't want to meet
me after all.

I don't see why you can't just write to
her again.

Well, I didn't write to her the first
time, did I, Tracy?

Besides, I'm not a stalker.

If Naomi doesn't want to meet me, it's
her loss.

Look,

look, Travis is on YouTube.

Did you know Travis was cross -dressing?

done to him. He'll be scarred for life.

How was your football?

Tough game?

One of those hard no frills that they...
Sorry, Mum.

You'll have to speak up.

Aunty Sharon's a bit mutton.

Sorry, Mum.

I'm going to go do my homework.

What have I done now? Not until you
empty the dishwasher.

Of course.

Sorry.

This was on the doorstep.

It's for you, doll.

I wonder what it is.

Must be those incontinence pads you
ordered.

My letters.

To Naomi's father.

Lionel? Where did this come from?

There's a note.

Dear Dorian...

Please forgive me if I don't feel ready
to meet you yet.

Until I do, I'd like you to have these
letters because Lionel never forgot you.

You see, at the age of three, I was
adopted by a lovely couple, Ursula and

husband Lionel, my biological father.

He went back for her?

Ursula passed away a few years ago.

I can't read this show.

Ursula passed away a few years ago.

Daddy died last month and he only told
me about you on his

deathbed.

Travis.

Daddy's last wish was that I should be
reconciled with you, my birth mother.

So until I feel ready to take the next
step, please think of me as your

affectionate daughter, Naomi.

Oh, don't cry, you silly mare.

She called herself your affectionate
daughter.

What more could you want? No, you don't
understand.

I'm happy.

Look.

She does take after me.

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