Original subtitles

One day he was my husband, the next he belonged to you.

How can anyone be allergic to water?

You don't eat!

All women think their husbands are cheating on them.

- How could you?! - Sam!

I love her. Help me sort this out.

No, I'm not going to help you, because you don't deserve me.

And you certainly don't deserve her.

Do you love her? - Yes. Very much so.

I'm going to sort this out.

Dad?

Where is he?

Offal.

Hearts and lungs and guts. Prime cuts and gristle.

And that's it.

I know every clove of garlic has a soul.

Even artichokes have hearts.

But me?

I'm not so sure.

My very own little meat fridge.

The light really does go out when you close the door.

They say death comes to us all.

But what they don't tell you is that nobody just leaves.

No. We all leave traces, echoes.

And trouble. Lots of trouble.

One lie can ruin a thousand truths

and the truth is, I loved Sam.

But Gina is never going to tell her.

She always had a flexible relationship with the truth

and if she didn't like it, she simply ignored it.

Believe me, it's one hell of a skill.

You have to tell her.

I just don't see how it's relevant.

If you don't want to do it face to face,

maybe you should just text her?

That's what the young people are doing now.

"By the way, your dead husband still loved you," smiley face.

You should try this.

- I'm not hungry. - You said that yesterday.

OK, I'm still not hungry.

I thought we were getting somewhere with this?

Where is somewhere? Morbid obesity?

Something. Somewhere is something.

I want you to eat something.

I'm not hungry.

My father has just died. I'm in mourning.

Bullshit.

How dare you.

How dare you say something like that to me!

That is shit, Teresa, and you know it!

You've been starving yourself like this for a year now.

It's not healthy and it's not right and it's not normal.

You are not normal!

At least I'm not a liar.

Right. Fine. You win.

OK, I'll take her a lasagne and I'll tell her.

Will that make you happy?

Nothing will ever make me happy.

But I still think you should tell Sam the truth.

Er, and here's your keys. You're in our bridal suite.

I think it's a lovely anniversary present.

- So romantic. - 40 years!

Does it seem like 40 years since we were last here, Jan?

Honestly? It feels longer.

Well, it's never too late for a second honeymoon.

Dan will show you to your room.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

Advice to the living.

Be careful what you leave behind,

because they're gonna see it.

I should never have written that damn letter.

It's right here. Exactly what he wants.

A funeral in the Sicilian tradition,

- and you're doing a eulogy. - What?

"Michael Vincent to give the formal address."

But an open coffin? Are we sure this is genuine?

He was raised in the Church of England

specifically to prevent any of this religious nonsense.

It's Leo's handwriting.

And the wake! It's more like a banquet.

Fegato di vitello alla Milanese? Porchetta Ariccia?

I don't see why I should have to do a eulogy!

Is that not what the vicar does?

The whole thing is ridiculous. And look how he addressed it.

"My darling wife".

Like he was hedging his bloody bets!

- Where are you going? - Out!

But we agreed that you would stay with Mimi.

- She's fine. - No, no, no, you said that...

Oh, let the boy go.

I'm quite capable of quietly dying of grief

while he masturbates to death in front of the Xbox.

See? Practically normal service.

Has he spoken to you?

- About any of this? - He seems fine.

That's what worries me.

He'll come to you when he's ready.

Morning, boss.

Made a real mess of that, didn't you?

Yeah, sorry about that.

So?

Erm... Yeah, I'm OK.

Sure you are.

They want me to do a speech... at his funeral.

Right. You shitting yourself?

No.

Er...yes.

Dad wanted me to do it.

Well, I guess that means you better do it.

What if I really, really don't want to?

That's the problem with becoming a man.

You've gotta do a lot of stuff you don't want to.

Putting down the toilet seat, eating salad, getting married.

How's your mum? Have you talked to her?

Sort of.

No, you should.

Listening. That's another one, by the way.

Ah, it's a funny thing, death. I mean, we've all got it coming,

but it always happens to someone else. Until it doesn't.

It's a consolo.

Everyone cooks for the grieving family.

- It's a Sicilian tradition. - Like blowing up judges?

It looks amazing. But we're fine. Honestly.

Well, everyone has to eat, especially at a time like this.

And obviously we've got to talk about a few things.

Did Leo mention anything to you?

About his funeral?

Not specifically.

I suspect he regarded himself

as above the inconvenience of actually dying.

It seems not.

He left this.

Porchetta Ariccia. Rognoni trifolati.

Ah... Well, you know what this is?

This menu is our history. Leo and me.

These are the dishes that made our name.

My family recipes. This menu is our marriage.

I think it's ridiculous!

But this is what he wanted, his last request.

Perhaps he should have thought about that

before he slept with his ex-wife.

So you're refusing to carry out his last wishes,

despite the fact they're here in black and white?

Leo will have a perfectly respectable funeral.

As his wife, it's my duty to see to that.

But that's all.

Can you believe she wanted to just ignore it?

- Well, obviously. - His dying wishes!

So you knew about this?

Dad had mentioned before he wanted the full Godfather?

Well, not specifically. But he was a passionate man.

He loved the tradition, the theatre...

The infidelity.

- So, how did the other bit go? - What other bit?

The whole "he wanted you back" business.

The reason you went there in the first place.

Oh, right, yeah, fine.

Yeah, she seemed really pleased.

Pleased?

Well, you know, not pleased. She...

Relieved. You know, better. You know what I mean.

I was wrong and you were right. It helped her a lot.

And you, dear? How are you coping?

- I'm fine. - That's what I thought.

You forget I've been through all this before.

When my George died, it was like an army on manoeuvres.

There's no time to think.

But...the moment comes, soon enough.

And when it does, you find me.

- Hi. - Hi.

It's weird, isn't it?

All this.

It's not just weird, it's fucking weird.

So, how's Gina?

Cooking.

I swear, if they dropped a bomb, she'd be stirring risotto.

How's yours?

Erm... I don't really know what she thinks.

She doesn't really talk to me.

Sounds like heaven. Do you want to swap?

You'd have to live with a mad woman,

but at least you won't go hungry.

Oh, God, I'm so sorry!

I just heard. Are you all right?

Er... Yeah. Yeah, I think so.

I'm so sorry.

Does this mean you're an orphan?

Er, well, I suppose so, yeah.

- How do you feel? - I feel alone.

You're not alone.

Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?

Bye.

Every man remembers the first time.

No, not that. The first time it doesn't work.

Dying is easy compared to that.

In fact...it's so fine,

it's almost better than if we had...you know...

Maybe we should just...like, talk?

I need to go.

A Sicilian funeral? Mm.

It seems a little unusual.

I thought Leo was Church of England?

Not that he ever attended.

He was a very religious man,

but his relationship with God was very personal and unique.

I can see that.

An open coffin? You Catholics are so macabre.

- But can you help us? - Honestly?

The Anglican church is nothing if not flexible.

It'll be my honour to help in any way I possibly can.

My sincere condolences, Sam.

Gina and I were just discussing funeral arrangements.

You've invited the entire village?

That is the tradition.

The community pays its respects

and the family repay them with a feast

celebrating the life of the deceased.

And, of course,

a suit needs to be delivered to the funeral directors.

- A suit? - Yeah. Black is traditional.

I don't want to have this conversation now.

It's just I really think someone else would be better.

He asked you. It's not an option.

Yeah, I know, but... I reckon he thought

I was going to be older when he died.

So I'd be better at public speaking.

You think I want to do all this? Any of it?

You think I want to go crawling to that bitch Gina Benelli

so she can cook up some bullshit meal

and have everyone fawning over her?

Have to stand there, smile and make conversation

with a village full of people who've always hated my guts?

This is not all about you.

You are 18. Grow the fuck up.

Oh, shit.

First, the body comes home.

Next, the church service.

Finally, the wake itself.

A feast fit to send any man to heaven.

He really wanted all this?

Well, Leo loved the tradition.

And the whole idea of being the centre of attention.

I think it's creepy:

just everyone just staring down at a dead person.

It's just a body, it's not the person you loved.

Here.

Thanks.

You really shouldn't smoke.

I know.

- So why do you do it? - Dunno.

Tried the vaping thing,

but the lack of lingering death never really worked for me.

- I think my dad was the same. - Leo didn't smoke.

He didn't do a lot of things, officially.

Bastard!

He made me give up when we first met.

Wrinkles. That was his main concern.

"It gives you a mouth like a cat's arse."

That's a direct quote.

So, who hates her the most right now?

I don't hate her.

It's just ... If it was anyone else...

I thought it was Suzy, the new manager.

The younger model. The midlife crisis woman.

Buy a Ferrari, screw the help.

But instead, darling Daddy fucked the old Fiat

in the back of the garage.

He went back to her.

So what does that make me?

The blip.

20 years of marriage, and what is it really?

A bloody blip.

She didn't tell you, did she?

Tell me what?

Mummy dearest. He ditched her.

Right after you found out.

Told her it was all a huge mistake.

He said that?

He came to the cottage.

Begged her to persuade you to take him back.

Right before... you know.

- Why are you telling me this? - Because it's the truth.

I've always been a big fan of honesty.

I think I'm unique in this family.

Thank you.

- Want some? - Deodorant?

Hides the smell better than anything else.

Dad gave it to me.

Another of his little secrets.

- Thanks. - You're welcome.

Off out?

- We have some leaflets. - No need.

Got it all planned. Electronically, no less.

Siri. She who must be obeyed.

- Got us on a strict timetable. - Down to the last second.

Mussolini had nothing on her.

Some people spend their life thinking about death.

I never really gave it the time of day.

But funerals? That's another matter.

Not many people get to look down on their own.

I've got a front row seat.

This is gonna be good!

Well, I'm ready.

I hope the good Lord doesn't object

to me switching sides like this.

She'd be a damn fool if She did.

I think you're safe from lightning bolts.

You'd be surprised.

Do you really think that God is a woman?

Yeah, of course I do. Don't you?

You can talk to me, you know, if it would help.

I can pass on any messages.

Well, tell Her that I'm busy right now,

but we can catch up when this is all over.

No problem.

I mean, obviously, it's a tragedy.

Obviously.

No-one is talking about the economic impact.

But as council leader, it's my responsibility

to look to the future.

There are jobs at stake. Leo Vincent was our brand.

It looks like you'll need to get a new one, then.

Can't we just wait until teatime? I said no.

Such a difficult age.

No rum and raisin.

So I made an executive decision and went for mint choc chip.

Hm, then I shall just have to suffer.

- OK? - I'm fine.

I should stop saying that.

You're British. Fine is a spinal reflex.

Erm...I have something for you.

No, take it. Just in case.

No. No, no, I-I can't do it.

It's simple. Just imagine them all naked.

- Oh, what, in church? - Especially in church.

OK. OK.

So, why don't you do it?

Because, in a patriarchal society,

the first-born son always takes pride of place.

I thought you would have figured that out by now.

Stark naked.

My father always...

My-my father always...

My-my fath... My father...erm...

Stark naked!

Oh.

Oh, fuck erm...

S-sorry.

All right, Michael, go and sit down.

No mother should bury her son.

The very idea is an affront to decency, against God.

And yet here I am.

Leo was my only child.

I loved him very much.

All of you knew my son, and some of you loved him, too.

But I am the one who held him in my arms when he was born...

..and held his hand when he crossed his first busy street.

And I let him weep on my shoulder

when his foolish 16-year-old heart was broken.

All of that was mine... and mine alone.

Some of you may believe that age diminishes those feelings.

I stand here to tell you... it doesn't.

Thank you.

Happiness

* Happiness, happiness

* The greatest gift that I possess...

That was always my favourite song.

My mother bought me the single for my birthday.

I'd asked for The Rolling Stones.

She always knew what was good for me.

* I'm the luckiest human in the human race

* I've got no silver and I've got no gold

* But I've got happiness in my soul

* Happiness to me is an ocean tide

* A sunset fading on a mountainside...

Nobody minded. Honestly.

I did.

I'll be back in a minute.

Sam. Please.

Leo came to see me.

He wanted me to help him talk to you.

Told me that he regretted everything and that hurt me,

because I could see in his eyes that he meant every single word.

I asked him to choose and he chose you.

- He wanted you. - I know.

Teresa told me.

She thought I deserved the truth.

And, in fact, I think we both do.

After I found the letter, I checked Leo's will.

He left everything to me.

Well, I didn't expect anything.

- What about Teresa? - It's mine.

And I've decided to sell.

The cottages, the house, the Penrose.

All of it.

The wake.

Porchetta Ariccia.

The speciality of a small village just north of Roma.

You take a suckling pig, gut and debone it.

Stuff it with garlic, rosemary and fennel.

Slow roast it over a wood fire.

It's quite the finest morsel

you've ever put between your lips.

Next!

When the Dukes of Modena

wanted to intimidate their rivals,

they didn't need swords or muskets.

They simply invited them to dinner.

The expense, the luxury, the sheer indulgence,

that was real power.

- Girls! Girls!

What is this supposed to be?

Granita di limone.

It cleans the palate apparently.

Oh, it's disgusting! It's like toilet cleaner.

Or at least what I imagine toilet cleaner would taste like.

Yes, thank you.

Apparently Jenny Burton was drinking it for an entire month!

Before they finally put her into a home.

Are you OK?

Yes!

You need to lighten up. You're a rich man, baby.

Me, I'm just a pay-as-you-go girl dreaming of a contract.

Yeah, well, I don't care about his money, do I?

Funny, that's what all the rich kids say.

You really think you're smart, don't you?

Look. Hell of a turnout.

And you know why, right?

Full bellies and full wallets.

They loved our darling Daddy, because he made them rich.

They all did.

If the rumours are true, then we have a problem.

This hotel, it's a big part of the community.

What I'm saying is,

we mustn't let a personal tragedy

mushroom into an economic one.

Don't you think?

I think that you are a disgusting little man

with a very tiny penis.

That's the grief talking.

You know what she's like.

I mean, it doesn't mean I don't feel sorry for her...

You're pissed, Clyde.

The truth is... Sam has never fitted in here.

Never really been part of what I like to call the real community.

That's not to say that I think she's an actual gold digger,

but pound to a penny she's back to London

with her ill-gotten gains before you can...

Are you talking about my mother?

He's talking complete shit. Let's get you home.

No, no, no, no, no, no. Not until he apologises.

I respect your grief, young man...

..but I've got the right to voice a sincerely held...

..opinion.

For Christ's sake, come here!

Aargh!

Leave him alone.

Now fuck off.

- You know, I'm OK. - You're bleeding.

- Hold still. - Ow!

No. He was your husband.

I don't think it's quite that simple, do you?

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The proof of the pudding is under the crust.

Time to go home.

This is the last will and testament of Leo Philip Vincent.

I have confirmed that the will is legal and final.

It states that Samantha Vincent

is the main beneficiary of the estate.

I have consolidated all the figures.

I'm afraid the task was rather complex,

as there were certain irregularities in the accounts.

What kind of irregularities?

Well, while on the surface...

the various companies and trusts seemed healthy,

on closer inspection

certain significant losses and outstanding debts

had been concealed.

In short, there is no estate.

All there is are debts.

Substantial ones.

- Hi. - Er... Hi.

- Is that...? - Yeah.

Any reason why you brought our dad along?

It's what we used to do, when I was a kid, every Sunday.

Well, at least until the business thing went crazy.

We could talk about fish, or we could talk about nothing.

So... I chose fish.

You're using our father as bait?

Yeah, well, he made millions feeding fish to people,

I think it's only right that they get to eat

what's left of him.

- So, what did we just scatter? - Half a disposable barbecue.

Yeah.

- Oh, you've got one! - Yeah, OK, get the net.

- Got it. Pull it harder. - Get the net.

- What net? - The net's right there.

- Listen. No, stop for a bit! - Pull it!

- Get the net...

- What are you doing?

You pulled too hard.

I needed the net.

Shit. Sorry.

Erm, I'm sorry.

However...

there is a silver lining, if only a small one.

It seemed that as a tax avoidance strategy,

the Penrose Hotel had been placed in Miss Benelli's name.

Several years ago.

As such, it's not part of the estate.

Congratulations, Miss Benelli, you own this hotel.

In fact, you always have done.

I'm afraid, in situations like this,

it's my duty to inform the authorities

as to the extent of the irregularities.

I imagine they'll want to talk to you, Mrs Vincent.

But I knew nothing about this.

I think, in the end, Doddy said it best.

"To me, this world is a wonderful place.

I'm the happiest human in the human race.

I've got no silver and I've got no gold,

but I've got happiness in my soul."

I never understood what made Gina truly happy,

but the Penrose played a part in it.

Well, she's got it all now.

Maybe she's got what she deserves.

But will she get her just deserts?

All this time and I owned it. It's mine.

I had a life, I had a career and I just gave it all up.

- We kissed each other. - You kissed me!

You realise Dr King's wedding is still booked for this weekend?

Gina, I don't like you.

You are unbelievable!

We need to talk.

- Please don't do this! - I'm sorry. It's gone too far.

I'm her mother!

I'm not gonna let her get away with it.

It'll be our little secret.

No more secrets, OK?