All language subtitles for 4The.Bletchley.Circle.San.Francisco.S01E04.Madhouse.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-NTb-eng

- Previously...
- The thing is...

- You're not coming back.
- What's there for me?

Iris, Hailey. Look at us.
The gang back together.

Charlotte, I was hoping you'd be
here. And there's Howard.

- We're going home.
- You're hurting me.

Charlotte told me she was going
to Monterey. Howard didn't know.

She was walking in the
wrong direction and got hit.

You think he murdered his wife?
Whatever you're up to I want in.

Charlotte was murdered
and we can prove it.

We got a tip from a neighbour
and arrested the husband.

Except Howard didn't do it.

That list of Charlotte's.

It was an account of jewellery
she stole from her friends,

mostly from Patricia.

- I am done being disrespected!
- Sweetie, put down the knife.

James?

Goodness gracious, you scared
the living daylights out of me.

What happened to your hand? Here.

Patricia gave me the boot.

Found out I'd been stepping out on her...

...with Charlotte.

Did Howard know?

Of course not. It was just a fling.

Patricia's been acting so strange lately.

The one minute she's on cloud nine, the
next, she's throwing crockery.

There's only so much a man can take.

Sounds like this was a lot.

Trust me, she's no angel.

I mean, she is the one who refused me,

and now look what's happened.

I love her, Lydia, you know I do.

I mean, I would never do
anything to hurt her.

- We should sound the alarm.
- And say what?

Charlotte was stealing from Patricia,

having an affair with
James and Patricia knew.

It's motive, plain and simple.

The build your case. Howard's
innocent, Patricia's guilty.

That's the problem.
Without Charlotte's list,

we haven't one shred of proof.

Then do what we always did.

Assemble the pieces we have,
fill the space in between.

But first, I'll finish packing.

Honey. It is still a few weeks
before I'm deployed.

You're gonna work yourself
into an early grave.

Hard work's good for the head.

Hay-bale, anyone tell you
not to eavesdrop?

I can't help it if you guys
are gonna have it out.

I have some leftover brisket.
Want me to fix you a plate?

No, I just need a word.

Try to stop her from
scrubbing off the wax.

It's chewing me up how Howard's
in jail for Charlotte's murder

while Patricia's home
tossing back martinis.

Clearly you're not alone in that.

I've got an idea. Let's hop it.

I gave my wife everything
she ever wanted,

not a worry in the world.

All she had to do was give me
a little gratitude now and then.

Sweetheart.

Thank goodness you're here.
James is in a bit of a fix.

He was sleeping with
Charlotte down the road

and the ife-way kicked
him to the erb-kay.

James?

- Rough time of it?
- She came at me with a knife, Kenny.

A knife, darling. Can you fathom it?

She was a raving mess,
a different person.

I had to leave for my own safety.

I'm gonna go talk to her.

Lydia? It's not for us to get involved.

No, no, no, that is a great idea.

Yeah, you go. You go, you talk her down.

Yeah, you tell her that I love her.

That this business with Charlotte
was all just a big mistake.

Kenneth? The ham needs
basting in 15 minutes.

Take the tin foil off
the scalloped potatoes too.

- Me?
- You'll manage. You're a clever man.

You're also a good friend, Ken.

So, are we gonna get
this Howard guy out or not?

We're working on it.
Patricia knew about the affair.

She may have confronted Charlotte.

Patricia easily could've driven
Charlotte's car back the night she died.

Hailey looked at Howard's odometer logs,

working up ideas about where
Charlotte's routine took her.

I'm thinking double life.

She wasn't on the up and
up with her whereabouts.

That could be why Charlotte's
Wednesday drives don't add up.

Look at the margin of error
on the odometer readings.

Lydia said that's when Charlotte
visited her mother.

We assumed she'd taken the scenic route.

- Then maybe we are looking at a detour.
- Something to do with the affair?

Or with Patricia and the stealing.

Let's narrow the variables,
hammer out theories.

And maybe there's enough

to take it to the police.

Patty, honey, James is over at
our house, crying his eyes out.

Says you tried to stab him...

My God!

You're dead.

Iris, it's for you.

Iris speaking.

- She's dead!
- Who is?

- Lydia...
- Marcus said you're there.

Iris, she's dead.

Lydia, take a breath.
You're not making sense.

Patricia's been murdered.
She was gunned down in her own bed!

I came in to check on her

and she was on her bed, with
a bullet through her heart.

- Everything's falling apart.
- Let's focus on the problem.

The problem is that Patty's dead!
And her husband James, he shot her!

She's gone. She's done, she's killed.

And I'm never gonna talk to her again.

Lydia, hang up the phone,
call the police,

then go straight home and tell
Kenneth what's happened.

I can't. The killer is at
my house right now.

He's drinking alone with my husband!

Hang up the phone, call the
police and wait in the street.

I knew you'd know what to do.

Sarge?

Patricia's been shot dead.

Does that mean we're wrong?

Could be a chain reaction?

Patricia kills her husband's mistress,

spurring him to kill her in revenge.

The suburbs. Our new Western Front.

And Lydia's shell-shocked in
the trenches.

You didn't come to bed last night.

I was waiting for Lydia to call.
She never did.

I didn't want to wake up the kids.

You'll get them fed?

Lydia's got her husband
to look out for her.

- You know the man. He's no help.
- Honey...

We need to get right before I ship out.

Tonight, you and me.
Dennis will look after Cady.

Cause I would like to see you smile
before they ship me off.

- I'm tired, Marcus.
- Hey.

All right, then.

Tonight.

Ladies, it's not a good time.

Lydia called last night, very upset.
Is she all right?

No. Not after she found Patricia.

- But she will be.
- What did you do with her?

She was off her head, hysterical.

I decided she'd visit
Ashbrook Asylum for a rest.

- You shipped your wife to a funny farm?
- Lydia is not insane.

She had a normal response
to seeing a friend dead.

She's a raving lunatic.

You don't know how I worked
to help her hide it.

She was trying to tell me something.

I'm telling you,
mind your own damn business.

I thought we'd pay
Detective Bryce a visit,

make sure his head's screwed on properly.

You mean put the screws to him?

He needs to know it's more complicated
than husband killing wife,

and we need anything he may know
about Patricia.

Well, in that suit, he'll buy
whatever you're selling.

I need to speak to someone.
I have valuable information.

I'm an expert cryptologist, worked
at the Presidio in the war,

cracking high-level codes.

I have important information.
Who here has clearance?

I don't know what you're talking about.

These are my credentials.

- See there?
- Rose?

There you are. Apologies, Nurse,
she's always barrelling off.

I was hoping we could talk to
someone who could help us.

Rose here is having another episode.

- Only family can authorise admissions.
- I'm all she's got!

We work at the same office.

She's been like this
going on two days now.

I've been covering for her
but I'm at my wits' end.

"Ruth". A plus-16 shift
using the Caesar cipher

means the characters add up to 29,
the tenth prime number,

the atomic number of copper. Are you
in weapons? What's your clearance?

Please, lady. Help a girl out.

I'll see if one of the doctors
has a moment. Have a seat.

Nice job, Sarge.

All we're asking is if you suspect
James Crawford of killing his wife.

All I'm saying, Miss Harcourt,

is that I can't discuss open cases.

How is it that you ladies

find yourselves tied up in
another Stateside murder?

We will tell all but you go first.

Have you arrested James Crawford?

I can't say.

Not now and not here.

What if it was elsewhere?

Like perhaps tonight over dinner?

- With Millie.
- Deal.

Absolutely not!

You've yet to prove you've
one iota of useful information.

James Crawford is not yet
in custody. Right?

- Why the hell not?
- We haven't tracked him down!

You lost him?

- A woman calls the police...
- She didn't call me!

People rarely stay put
waiting for the cops to arrive.

You're assuming
James is our prime suspect.

You really think Howard
Nolan is a killer,

- despite all evidence?
- What evidence?

Is James Crawford your
sole suspect or not?

Yes.

But that's all you get until you
hold up your end of the bargain.

She will.

I'll telephone you later for details.

You've just auctioned me off
to the lowest bidder.

- Lydia.
- Iris.

I can't believe Kenneth did this.
It's not so bad.

Lydia, we're on the trail
of Patricia's killer.

James was a bad boy.

He stepped out on his wife,
but he's not the killer.

But you were so certain he killed her.

- Wrong side of the bed.
- Wrong side?

James would have never shot his wife
where he slept. Bad luck.

Superstitions and stupidity, that man.

If James isn't the killer, who is?

I walked on water to get to her.

- Water? Lydia, what do you mean?
- It always was a fairy tale.

Shot with the family gun. Up in flames.

I told you to wait in the hallway.

- Sorry. Rose here wandered off.
- Rose?

Rose? Yes.

By any other name.
How would it smell, I wonder?

Delicious.

It's all there.

If you want the benefit of our
treatment, you must do it right.

You can't let just anyone in.

It just goes to show, even the
smoothest veneer can crack.

We've still got our wits, Sarge.

And it seems she's not entirely
without hers.

So she was trying to tell us something.

Why would I want a date
with Detective Bryce?

He can't even find the man
who killed her.

I may have.

We looked at detours that fit
what we knew of Charlotte.

Maybe where she went doesn't fit.

Look at the postcard. Redwood Park.

James's cover story for
the affair was a hunting trip.

A direct route from Charlotte's
house. The mileage adds up.

Could be where she went to meet James.

And if you're on the run from the
police, where better to hide?

Exactly.

But why flee if you're not the killer?

He may know who is.

Hello?

Hello, Iris. Are you up for a road trip?

Are you sure you trust Lydia's instincts?

Behind the fog, she's as bright as ever.

And certain that James didn't
kill Patricia.

Park ranger says they've got
six licensed hunting cabins.

Thought he saw car lights
at that one last night.

Innocent or guilty,
James is a cornered man.

We can't just waltz in there.

So, we tread carefully,
read the situation.

Test Lydia's theory.

You shouldn't have come here.
I'm not going to jail.

I can't.

We haven't told anyone you're here.

- We just want your help.
- My help?

- Dear Lord!
- James. I believe you're innocent.

But you're also running scared why?

No-one needs to know
that we saw you here.

Believe me, we're well
versed in keeping secrets.

Yeah?

Well, why don't you start right
now and shut your goddamn trap?

James, we can help you.

One more word and I swear I will do it.

So, you'd just kill us all?

Quiet! Now!

It seems you were wrong, Iris.
This is not the act of an innocent man.

No, I-I didn't kill anybody.

Then put down the gun or you
are as guilty as your wife.

- I'm not guilty!
- James! James, please.

Stop.

Patricia couldn't have
mowed down Charlotte.

She was innocent! I loved her!

- So, why run off?
- I saw the cops at my house.

I panicked.
I knew what they did to Howard.

It doesn't take a genius to
figure where the finger points.

Then stop acting like a guilty man.

I don't even know how she died.

She was shot through the heart.

Lydia saw the murder
weapon on the dresser.

She said it was a family gun.

The only family gun
is my grandfather's war pistol.

It's kept in the cabinet.

It makes no sense to use it
when I've got a 9mm by my bed.

Whoever killed Patricia didn't
know the 9mm was an option.

- That proves I'm innocent.
- Not altogether, but it helps.

You've got to help me face this.

- One condition. You turn yourself in.
- No chance. They'll never believe me.

We will do everything we can
to clear your name.

Innocent men don't run.

How do I know you can clear my name?

You don't, but we've
tracked you down twice.

We're the best you've got.

Now, take us through everything
that happened

between you and Patricia
before you left the house.

- So, we just leave him here?
- And trust he'll turn himself in.

- Thank you.
- You've done far more for me.

You'll be happy to hear
I'm keeping my date tonight.

Detective Bryce needs
to learn a thing or two.

I'll take a look through Lydia's
journal, see if I can make sense of it.

She was right about the gun,

so I'm convinced there's more
she's trying to tell us.

- I'd be happy to help.
- Thank you.

- But this sort of thing is...
- One-woman job.

I should probably have
a quiet night in anyway.

Isn't it one of your last nights here?

I'll take you around,

show you a taste of San
Francisco before you ship out.

I'm hardly dressed to hit the town.

For what I'm cooking up, you're perfect.

Not what I expected from you.

I'm full of surprises, Detective.

How about you call me Bill?

Rum and Coke for the gentleman.
Bourbon sour for the lady.

Nice to see you back, Millie.

It's your bourbon, Archie. Good stuff.

You two seem friendly.

Is Howard Williams still in custody?

Can't we have one drink without
you squeezing me for information?

No.

Until there's evidence the
murders are connected,

Howard stays behind bars.

How often do you come here?

And Patricia's murder, is James
Crawford still your only lead?

Now it's your turn.

How does a girl like you come to
know about a place like this?

You've no idea what kind of a girl I am.

Yeah? Let's see.

You grew up rich, went to
a high-end finishing school

where you were bored to tears.

Your crying continued when you
met the strait-laced suitors

your father kept pointing your way.

Except there's the thorny matter
of your inheritance.

You had to marry
one of those stuffed shirts.

Almost did, but no. You doubled
down. You told them, "Go to hell."

If that's what this family is
selling, you ain't buying.

And then, off on your own,
you travelled the world,

you made your own way.

And you did a bang-up job.

You've been paying attention.

That's what I do.

Which is why I'm asking you...

- No, Miss Harcourt, I'm tell...
- Millie.

Millie, then.

...I'm telling you,
leave this to the professionals.

I would, but James Crawford's
gonna turn himself in tonight

and I still need to convince you
he's innocent.

We found him hiding in the very cabin

where he and Charlotte Williams
were carrying on an affair.

James promised to turn himself in
tonight, all to clear his name.

You could have been killed.

Promise you'll listen to me
before we go our separate ways?

Hey, you save some room.

- Dinner. I'm just off to get ready.
- You forgot?

Marcus, I'm sorry.

Lydia gave me this today
and it's all a jumbled mess.

We found her at the asylum.

Kenneth sent her there like
she's a problem needing fixing.

Somewhere along the line,
they just... broke down.

That won't happen to us.

For one thing, you get rid of me
every once in a while.

I know you have to go, Marcus,
I just... don't want you to.

You know, Vietnam
is just an advisory committee.

I'm training soldiers, their
soldiers. It's not our war.

I'll be back in a month.

- It just never gets easier.
- I know.

How about I take Dennis and
Cadence to the movies?

The King And I. It's a new one.

Cadence won't stop talking
about how she wants to see

a pretty lady get wooed
by some handsome king.

All right, then. The King And I it is.

Prettiest view west of a prairie sunset.

Truly a sight!

What on earth are you doing?

- It's just what we're looking for.
- Mussels?

I know it doesn't look like much
but trust me on this one.

Quick, give me a hand.

Dig.

She's a beaut.

Jean McBrian.

We used to go digging for
razor clams back in Scotland.

Me, I was butchering and milking
before I hit double digits.

So, what now?

- We eat.
- Where?

What, you guys don't have
campfires in Scotland?

I'm telling you, Bill. It's
his grandfather's prized gun.

It's engraved with the family crest.

Just because he hadn't shot
the war pistol before

does not mean he wouldn't
use it to kill his wife.

Why would he break into a cabinet

when there's a perfectly good
gun underneath his bed?

A man with at least three guns!
What does that tell you?

He's a red-blooded American.

You didn't see the look on his face

when we told him his wife had
been shot through the heart.

You think that'll convince a jury?

He wants to turn himself in.
Surely it counts for something?

You'd make a great lawyer,

if you weren't busy playing
amateur detective.

Think I'm here because I read
too much Raymond Chandler?

- Why are you here?
- California.

It's the future.

I'd like to think
I might be a part of it.

Hardly.

Why rule it out?

Let's see.

Three dates in, I'll meet your
parents who find me stroppy,

but soon realise
you'll never do any better.

Six months in, I've a ring on my finger.

In three years, we'll flee to
the suburbs with two brats

and a third on the way,

filling the space between us

with powder-blue appliances
and creeping silences.

Anniversaries,
we'll manage a clumsy dance,

looking over our shoulders,
wondering what just happened.

Well...

- You got one thing wrong.
- What's that?

I'm a damn good dancer.

I'll be the judge of that.

Jean!

"I shared my matches with Patty Cakes.

Two are now three.
She's in on our secret.

Matches gave such a brilliant light.

I lit all my matches,
but transcendence evaded me.

I need more and light more every time."

Matches?

Hailey, this is delicious.

Cioppino. Legendary in San Francisco.

The secret is fresh basil.

The flavours are divine.

Much better than the salt
and pepper of back home.

- You OK?
- Yes.

Just can't seem to shake things off.

You were cool as a cucumber back there.

I'd have folded like a deckchair.

Somehow I doubt that.

Still...

...staring down a barrel...

...one can't help but ask if a
life's been led to the fullest.

I'm sorry it happened to you.

I'm still glad I came.

But you really want
to go back home, do you?

It's my life.

Sure it's not a rut?

Like those girls in the 'burbs,
bored stiff.

Cheating, stealing...
just to feel something.

I've seen quite enough excitement.

The hell you have.

One more thing you've gotta do
before you get out of Dodge.

What are you doing?

Come on!

- The water's great!
- It looks bloody cold!

It's damn flippin' freezing,

but after the numbness kicks
in, it's quite pleasant.

Come on!

You only live once, Jean!

Great music tonight, Archie.

If I knew you'd bring the heat,
I'd have cancelled the band.

- The what?
- The fuzz, the man, the police.

Don't tell me he's not a lawman.
I can read the signs,

the drink, the haircut, the shoes.

We've got a rule at the Big Bop. No cops.

Bill's a fine man, Archie.

They're all shady in this town.
Stick around, you'll find out.

- Great place you got here.
- Bill, meet Archie Hunter.

He likes to know his customers,
so I thought...

What's Iris doing here?

Excuse me.

Millie, I cracked the journal.
It's not what we thought.

Patricia wasn't murdered.
She killed herself.

At first I thought she was
counting days, five by five.

But she kept writing about matches.

- Keeping a tally?
- See this chart here?

How many she gave away
and how many were left.

And writing these awful notions of death,

wanting a glorious fire to consume her.

James said that Patricia
had been erratic lately.

But suicide is a bit of a leap,
don't you think?

I thought so too but then I found this.

The Little Match Girl And Other Stories.

What does Patricia have to do
with Hans Christian Andersen?

The little match girl had
visions of her dead grandmother.

To keep the visions alive, she
lit her matches one by one,

until finally, desperate
to hold onto the magic,

she lit them all.

Froze to death with a smile on her face.

And they call it a fairy tale?

Lydia talked about fires
and sharing her matches

with someone she called Patty Cakes.

I think she was sharing
with Charlotte too. Look here.

"Two are now three.
Charlotte is in the web."

Howard said Charlotte had been up
and down. Do you think...?

It's possible she died the same way.

So, what are the matches?

There's a key in there but for
the life of me I can't find it.

What happened?

Iris has cracked the journal.

It suggests that Patricia
took her own life.

She couldn't have shot herself.
There was no gun in her hand.

Could someone have moved it?

We don't have it all yet but
whatever claimed these ladies

may also be affecting Lydia.

At least she's safe at Ashbrook.

Where's Lydia?

I know this feeling,
a shiver behind the eyes.

I just can't quite see it all.

When we'd get stymied, we'd run a theory.

We'd fill in the gaps
with the most likely variables,

and consider new elements
at every inconsistency.

So, the theory on the table is suicide.

By our logic, not only did
the women kill themselves,

the deaths were disguised as murders.

That's dodgy at best.

- Who would cover up a suicide?
- Someone with something to hide.

Patricia was the latest victim, so
we start with her. What do we know?

She'd just found out about James's
affair with Charlotte.

She confronted him, it went badly.

So she sent him packing
across the street to Lydia's.

James had never seen her so upset.

Lydia was "walking on
water" when she saw Patricia.

If she drowned and her body was moved,

the carpet would have got soaked.

The shooter didn't know
which side she slept on.

Or that James kept a gun under the bed.

I have to admit it's plausible.

OK, so then what about Charlotte?

She was hit by her own car.

Which was then driven back
to her own garage.

Which could also have been a cover-up.

Maybe she was dead
before they even left the house.

James had just broken things off. He
told her at the country club.

No doubt she was
as distraught as Patricia.

Charlotte's gas tank was nearly empty.

That wouldn't work for Howard's
meticulous mile-keeping.

Unless the car was being idled
for quite some time.

Exhaust fumes are hard to see.
How would anyone have seen it?

There was a chill in the air last week.
It makes exhaust fumes visible.

If you are in business
to cover up suicides

and you come across a dead body in
a car, what do you do next?

Use what's readily available.

So the guy drives her out.

Straight down the nearest road,
far enough so no-one would see.

And he dumps her. But it's not enough.

It has to be airtight, a hit and run.

So, he does what he has to do,

with her car,
then he drives it back home.

What of Howard and the odometer?

It's business as usual for Howard.

He comes home after the car's
returned and tracks the miles,

same as always.

Without a clue of
what happened to his wife.

That may explain how, but why would
both women take their own lives?

And who would cover it up?

You ask me, James pushed
them both over the edge.

But first these women
had to be standing on one.

Lydia's journal indicates
her new state of mind

was sudden and all-consuming.

That doesn't just happen to
three smart women all at once.

Not without a trigger.

What are the matches?

I don't know, but next to it
look like chemical formulas.

Yes. For drugs.

- Pills!
- How do you get to pills?

If they were sharing medication,

they'd experience the same side effects.

"I shared my matches with Patty Cakes."

A kind of housewives' helper!

"Matches gave such a brilliant light."

But why use their chemical formulas?

Kenneth. Her husband's
in pharmaceuticals.

He told us about the tests they
run to get their approvals.

If that's true, he would be
the one to cover things up.

Of course, if he discovered
his pills led to suicide.

Whatever pushed them over the
edge could happen to Lydia.

We need to know that Lydia's safe.

Lydia, listen to me!

No. I can't take them, you can't make me.

Please, just one dose. It'll help!

Except that it doesn't!

- Now I'm back to myself.
- But this isn't you, darling.

You're in withdrawal.
I know the symptoms.

- Why didn't you warn me?
- I'm telling you now.

This is why you need to do as I say.

- Get away from her!
- Get out of this house!

If we leave, it'll be with your wife.

Iris, it's terrible. It's just terrible.

Lydia, the pills. Those are your matches.

My friends were struggling.
Life here, it's so rigid,

and just... there's no room
to feel anything but happy.

And if you're not...

you just don't fit.

But Kenneth, he said that the
pills were going to help.

And they did! Lydia, they did.

Until you try to stop,
and then God help you!

Charlotte and Patricia killed
themselves because of you.

They took pills they never should
have. Pills she gave them.

They went off the deep end and
you didn't want to get blamed.

I need some water.

- Honey...
- No, please, I...

These drugs, they're new.

We're still working out the bugs, but...

they have a wonderful power to
take what's broken in our world,

in our hearts, and fix it.

We'd just begun to discover
negative effects to withdrawal.

The labs are working to adjust
before the drug's released.

These were just for clinical trials.

You experimented on your wife?

It was doing her good! She said so!

So she shared them with her friends.

- It was a mistake.
- And instead of sounding the alarm,

you covered it up.

The whole trial would've been scrapped.

And they were doing her good.

You don't understand
how hard it's been for her.

The Crawfords have a new car,

the Trimbles summer in the Hamptons.

Do you think we own any of this outright?

One false move and this
house of cards collapses.

Lydia, please, it's not safe.

Don't.

The haze is lifting.

I can see now.

These feelings. They're not real.

It's just chemicals leaving your body.

You're telling me
that the guilt in my heart...

...the sour in my gut,
every breath that I take...

This isn't your fault.

I know what I have to do.

Kenneth won't accept what he did.

- But I will.
- Lydia.

The blame for these deaths...
they lie with Kenneth, not you.

I told them that they worked wonders.

Kenneth knew what these pills
did to you and your friends.

And he chose to protect himself.

Stay back!

Happiness is not a constant state.

To think that life is some
perfect journey is a folly.

So what?

You just give up?

I don't believe you don't want happiness.

I did once. I did.

But now I seek purpose.
And with purpose comes joy.

There's no joy left for me in this world.

I lost my friends.

And my husband is a scoundrel.

And I need these pills...

...these stupid crutches, just to stand.

I was there once myself after the war.

I'd discovered capabilities
that I'd never imagined.

Only after, I had to keep them secret

and bottle it all back up.

No-one could ever know
the truth of who I'd become

or all the great things I'd done.

But I knew.

I knew.

And I could rebuild my life...

...not despite what I'd achieved
at Bletchley but because of it.

And you have that inner strength
too, you do.

You can rebuild your life.
You can. You can do it.

Please.

Charlotte was in heavy
withdrawal from the medication.

She knew I gave them to Lydia...

and she'd taken to calling me
at all hours, begging for more.

You couldn't take home enough pills

for all three without drawing notice.

Then one night, I heard her car
running in that closed garage.

After that terrible night,

Patricia started calling me at work,

begging for pills, telling
me her life was unravelling.

So, I got some that night,
took them to her house.

But... I was too late.

And to hide the truth,
you had me locked up.

Lyddie... my love, please understand.

I never wanted to hurt anybody.

But you have, Kenneth.

You've hurt a lot of people.

That's beautiful.

It's a sad song, really...

at least for most of the world out there.

But not us.

We're lucky.

We sure are.

I am proud of all that you
have done, Iris.

Me too.

Although, I do worry.

Especially when I'm not around.

I know, but...

You just promise me...

that you will be careful.

I will.

Now... you...

...better give me something
to remember you by.

What's all this?

I telephoned London, the library.

Offered my resignation.

You're staying?

I'm not sure for how long.

Let's just say there's a
healthy dose of perspective

with having a gun to your head.

That's what it took!

Well, that and driving on
the wrong side of the road,

eating a bowl of fish stew,

stripping to my knickers, then
throwing myself in the Pacific.

You did what?

Baptised and reborn, my friend.

Sync: Stevo