All language subtitles for Albatross [2011] [Web-DL] [1080p].en

¶ ¶

¶ Ooh ¶

¶ Ooh ¶

¶ Ooh ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ If you can't make me happy ¶

¶ Gonna walk away the blame ¶

¶ ¶

¶ If you can't make me happy ¶

¶ Gonna walk away the shame ¶

¶ ¶

¶ See, I got my cuts
and bruises ¶

¶ Ah-ooh ¶

¶ Gonna walk away the pain ¶

¶ Ah-ooh ¶

¶ And if you can't
make me happy ¶

¶ Ah-ooh ¶

¶ Gonna walk away again ¶

¶ ¶

Oh, you are up.

I'm taking Posy to an audition,

so you're manning the front desk
this morning.

Can I not? I'm revising.
Is Dad not around?

Your dad's writing.

You can revise on the desk.

You have to give
people keys, Beth.

Won't be any different
to up here.

Come on.

Take your hair down

and make yourself
a bit more presentable

¶ Why don't you see ¶

¶ What you're doing to me? ¶

Police! Run!

¶ Why won't you go? ¶

¶ Leave me walking alone ¶

Hey!

¶ Why won't you go? ¶

¶ If you can't ¶

¶ Make me ¶

¶ Happy ¶

¶ ¶

Mmm, did you bring coffee?

Yes, thanks.

I'm taking Posy to an audition,

so you're gonna have to get
your own lunch as well.

There's some nice
turkey ham in the fridge.

Which?

Which what?

No, which is it, turkey or ham?

It's turkey ham.

That's what it is, turkey ham.

Why do they call it turkey ham

when it's only got turkey in it?

It's from flying bloody pigs,
that's what,

like your next bestseller.

¶ Why won't you see ¶

¶ What you're doing to me? ¶

¶ Why won't you go? ¶

¶ Leave me walking alone ¶

¶ Why won't you go? ¶

¶ ¶

Was everything all right?
Did you sleep okay?

No, I didn't.

All those bloody Seagulls
squawking since sunrise.

They kind of come with the sea.

Wasn't like that in the book.

It was a peaceful retreat
in the book.

¶ ¶

You're lucky
I'm not coming in...

to talk to your mother
and father.

Well, good luck with that
if you change your mind.

Um...

is this actually your house?

Yeah.

¶ ¶

Hmm.
I'm late, aren't I?

You've missed breakfast,
I'm afraid.

Which room are you in?

All of them, unfortunately.

I'm the new cleaner.

Right, yeah.

I'm Beth Fischer.

Oh, charmed.

Serena.

Nice to meet you, Serena.

Can I just take your surname
for the key log?

Yeah, um,

it's spelled M-O-L-I-N-A.

Great.

So you know you don't need to do

the attic room on the top floor,
just the guestrooms.

This is Edna, our other cleaner.

She'll show you around.

How do you say your surname,
just so I don't get it wrong?

Molina.

Molina.

Mm-hmm, yeah.

Serena Molina the cleaner.

Meant to be.

Right, um, so Edna's
just down there.

EW.

Yeah, in deep.
Oh.

You don't need to clean here.

Are you sure?

Looks pretty dirty
from where I'm standing.

Filthy, actually.

Fuck.

Is that your dad then?

The pervert you keep locked away
in the attic?

So you've read the book then?

No.

It's a little
lightweight for me.

Any good?

Really brilliant.

What's he doing here then?

He lives here.

No, I mean he's German,
isn't he?

So What's he doing in this
culture vacuum?

Well, I imagine he's asking
himself the same question...

now that
he's got Writer's block.

My name's not Serena Molina,
by the way.

Did you not realize
I was joking?

Oh.

I thought the joke was on you.

Emelia... Conan Doyle.

And, yes, I am related
to the Sherlock Holmes author.

Wow.

That's great.

Anyway...

I'd better go.
Got to skooch.

Bye.

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

She wants to do it,
so why can't she?

Because she will-

Because she will have
to come out of school

if the rehearsals
are during the day.

She is six years old, Jonathan.

What's she going to miss, eh?

What's she going to miss?

Oh, I don't know.

Just the unimportant stuff!

Reading! Writing!

A lot of bloody good
those things have done you,

parked up here
fiddling with your asshole,

and it's the rest of us-
do not turn away!

It is the rest of us
who are running around,

trying to make money
out of this godforsaken house

to make ends meet.

It's a professional engagement

she's been offered,
and she wants to do it.

Does she really want to?

Yes, look at her!

Or is it just you trying to
make up for your own failures?

Oh, well, I can only bow

to your superior knowledge
of failure.

You are the Grand Poobah of it.

You are so fucking childish.

It takes years to write
a great novel.

And it takes you just as long
to write a shit one.

Go away, Mum!

I'm revising!

Oh.

Sorry, I didn't realize
you were here.

I'd say the same goes
for this lot.

You caught the show then?

This is my
get-out-of-jail card.

And, uh...
is that your sex hat?

Look, I don't have long.

I just stopped by
to give you this.

You had a book on fairies
by your bed.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, it was my little sister's.

But that's lovely.
Thanks.

Anyway, I should get going.

You should come for dinner,

tonight, as a thank-you
for the book.

Seriously?
With your family?

Yeah.

That would be amazing.

Great, so do you need
to call your mum to check?

I would, but she's a bit dead.

Oh.
Sorry.

It's okay.

It's not very fair
for you to take the blame.

She did kill herself.

But thanks anyway.

Fucking useless asshole.

Come on, Posy, get in the car.

We need to get going
if we're gonna really

fuck your father off.

You said a bad word!

Nice!

Bye.

Bye.

Have you got any ID?

Yeah, definitely me.

No.
Are you 18?

Yes.

Can you prove it?

There.

Are these not the breasts
of an 'I 8-year-old?

That'll be ??2_99, please.

I can't believe we're stooping
to the hired help...

for friendships now, Beth.

What's going on?

Your daughters invited
the bloody cleaner for dinner.

Which one?

Well, I assume it's
the '17-year-old.

Please tell me it's not Edna,

the bearded pensioner.

Sorry.

I came in through
the private entrance.

I didn't know which one
I should use.

Oh, hey.

Hello, Mrs. Fischer.

Thank you so much
for inviting me.

This is for you.

Oh, thank you.

Are you old enough
to drink Wine?

Yes...

in Denmark and restricted parts
of Europe.

Oh, have you met my dad, Emelia?

No, I don't think we've
actually been introduced.

Beth, can you come
and finish up the plates?

Hi, I'm Jonathan Fischer.

Hmm.

I hope you've washed that hand
before I shake it, Mr. Fischer.

Emelia.
Hi.

Lovely to meet you
properly, Emelia.

Conan Doyle.
Emelia Conan Doyle.

Yes, I am related to
the Sherlock Holmes author.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?

Oh.

I've read all his work.

So I'll get you a drink.
Wine?

You can have a glass of wine
with dinner, can't you?

White, huh?

That's what you girls prefer,
white?

So tell me about
the cliff house.

I want to know everything.

Hmm.

There's not much to tell.

I came over here
to go to Cambridge.

Saw a beautiful young actress
in a touring play...

and whisked her
away to the cliff house,

just for the weekend.

Wrote the book
in ignorance at 22,

struck gold,

and now it hangs around my neck,

taunting me with its success.

Yeah, I meant the house,

like the actual building.

Is it Victorian?

No, Edwardian, actually.

I'm joking.

I'd love to know about the book.

Are you applying
to university, Emelia?

I'm sure Beth told you
she's applying to Oxford.

Um, I'm not actually
going to uni.

Are you at the
University of Life, Emelia?

Yes.

Mum says that's what
dossers say.

Hmm.

Actually, um, I'm also
writing a novel.

Are you?
That's cool.

Yeah, but, um, got quite a lot
to live up to, though,

as you can imagine.

I mean, you can't exactly
go looking under "Conan Doyle"

and come up with some
airport read...

called Dirty Bitch, can you?

That's exactly
what I should have done.

Nothing to me,
all this university education.

What a shame
you didn't realize that...

before you wrote
Mental Interiors.

You might still have
a publisher.

You should take it on board,
Mr. Fischer.

"It is with bad sentiments
that one makes good novels".

That's Aldous Huxley,
Mrs. Fischer.

Who does this belong to?

It's not mine.
It's Emelia's.

Well, where is Emelia?

What are you doing?

Was having a break.

Don't be smart.
Get in.

Emelia!

Emelia!

Fuck you very much.

What?
I said, "Thank you."

Like, I just sang it.

¶ Thank you ¶

Hi.

What are you doing here?

Certainly not waitressing,
if that's what you're thinking.

Hello, Pokey.

It's Posy!

I know.

Sit in my section.

I'll move someone.

How's your novel going?

Oh, well, you know.

Posy, would you like
a milkshake?

Yes.

I'd like to have-

Uh, ladies first.

I'll be back in a moment
to take your order.

Excuse me?

I am a vegetarian.

That isn't something
to boast about.

Mmm, thank you!

I need a spoon.

So what can I do for you?

Actually,
I was just thinking-

You know, if you get that
down on paper,

it's called writing.

You can have that lesson on me.

Actually, I was thinking
I might be able...

to do something for you.

Seriously.

I could teach you
creative writing...

if you're struggling.

Just you and me writing?

Yes.

Sounds fun.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Oh, Annie, you scared
the wits out of me.

Granny, it's Emelia.

Not Annie.

Mum's dead, remember?

Don't stay up too late now,
will you?

There's school tomorrow.

Granny, it's only 4:00,
and it's Sunday tomorrow.

And I'm working as well,

to tide me over for a bit.

Yes, yes.

Of course.

Basically, yeah, I go like,

"So who's your sexual fantasy?"
Yeah?

And instead of saying like,
you know, Pamela Anderson

or something,
he goes, "A mermaid."

I was like, "A mermaid?"

That is half fish you want
to shag, you sick fuck."

He goes, "Yeah"

Pretty much is
with most girls, innit?"

I think my granny's dying.

All right.

When my granny died, yeah,

my brother, little Tommy, yeah,

starts singing,
"Burn, baby, burn,"

as she's going in the oven.

Fucking priceless,
calling my nan "baby"

Babe?

Babe?

Well, I... I haven't actually
acted professionally...

for a few years now, no.

Um, I was in a really
popular coffee commercial.

Um, I used to be Joa Saunders.

I'm the one who married...

the novelist
Jonathan A. Fischer.

So, um, I was just calling
because I'm looking...

for new representation.

Right.

Yeah.

Yes, all right, I will.

I'll, um-I'll call back
when I'm in something.

Thanks.

Morning, Mrs. Fischer.

How's it hanging?

You're late.

And I want to have a word
with you.

What are you doing with things
that are left in the rooms?

Oh, well, uh...

The bed, I'm making.

The carpet, I've...

I've been walking on that.

And the curtains,

recently I've taken
to swinging on them.

Is that okay?

I mean the things that people
leave behind accidentally.

Are you stealing them?

No.

I haven't found anything
that's been left behind.

What's been left behind?

Well, the man who vacated
room three on Tuesday...

couldn't find his teeth.

Are you actually accusing me
of stealing

a set of old man's false teeth?

What did you think I was going
to do with them?

These not look like mine?

I know that you live
with your grandparents.

Yes, and they both
have their own teeth.

If things get left behind,

they come down
to the lost property box.

I know.

I read the memo.

It was... fascinating

You should have been the writer
in the family.

Emelia,

you are this close
to getting fired.

Come in.

Hi.

Give me one minute.

Let me just finish
what I am doing here.

Sit down.

Sorry about that.

A moment of inspiration
can be lost in far less time

if you don't indulge it.

But I... caught it.

So hello.

Did you just fake that?

No.

Yes.

So Where's your Work?

I didn't bring anything with me.

I understand if
you're not ready to show me...

what you have written so far.

Wherever you've been,
I went there first.

I'm not sure I'd own up to that.

So can you at least tell me
what your novel's about?

Do you have anything to drink?

No.

Can't you just go downstairs?

I mean, there must be something
downstairs.

So you haven't told your family
about our lessons then.

No, I haven't.

Hmm.

I do have a story actually.

It's about a naughty pixie.

Emelia, come on,
this isn't school.

Good, because I got expelled
from school.

I really wouldn't let your
daughter anywhere near me.

She's 17.

That's old enough to know
your own mind.

Is this a lesson on subtext,
Mr. Fischer?

Okay, let's start with text
and subtext then.

I suppose that's something.

And please don't call me
Mr. Fischer.

It makes me feel old.

I don't want to eat it!

I don't like it!

You haven't even tried it.

Come on, you have to eat some.

No, she doesn't.

You don't have to eat it,
Posy darling.

Beth, don't force-feed her.

You would have made me eat it.

Well, We've learned
from our mistakes.

How's the book going?

Hello?

Emelia!

Can I go out for the evening?

Well, it's a school night.

Yeah, but I'm on study leave.

Technically,
it's a school night.

You can go out.

Be back by 10:00.

Great.

Show some fucking backbone,
you total tool.

Don't start, Joa!

You'd slept with half
of Basingstoke by her age.

Lucky fucking Basingstoke!

Wow, look at that.

Wow.
That's amazing.

Boy, I wish I had a camera.

Take a picture on your phone.

I wish I had a phone.

Anyway, we should grab
what we can...

before they realize
it's wrecked here.

Oh.

Huge men's T-shirts.

Not as good as these.

Women's shoes.

Oh, those are revolting!

Look at the size of them!

Why is everything so massive?

Here, you should have this.

We can't actually take them.

They might belong to someone.

No, you can claim it,
provided notice is given...

so the rightful owner
has a chance to come forward.

¶ ¶

We are taking all your
stuff, okay?

We're having the big T-shirts
and the shoes, all right?

Is that all right with you?

¶ ¶

Ha-ha!

Aah!

¶ ¶

What's that?

It's a joint.

Do you want some?

No, thanks.

Where on Earth do you get
hard drugs from?

Are you for real, Pollyanna?

Can I try it?

Yeah.

It's just a rollie, though.

I just wanted to see your face.

How come you're not doing
your A-levels?

Surely you want to get out
of here like everyone else.

My dad thinks
you're really clever.

I was doing A-levels.

I was at The Holy Family,
but I got kicked out.

I'm quite pleased actually.

'Cause my mum always said
that being a Conan Doyle

made you special,
and now I get to skip

all that
religious indoctrination

and do something proper.

Did your dad really say that?

What else did he say?

Nothing.

I hope you don't mind me asking,
but what happened to your mum?

She jumped off the flyover
at Shoreham...

'cause my dad didn't love her.

That didn't kill her, though.

She squeaked around
in a wheelchair...

for a couple years after that.

And then when he didn't
come back and save her,

she overdosed on sleeping pills.

Why didn't he come back?

Where is he?

Dead... disabled, divorced.

Fuck knows.

God, Emelia, that's awful.

So is this what your book's
gonna be about?

No.

It's about bestiality.

Emelia?

Do you want to come up
to Oxford with me?

For my interview?

We could go
for a couple of days.

Stay over.

I'll pay.

What, and hang out
with a load of geeks?

Fuck that.

I'd rather chew off
my own arm...

and club myself to death
with it.

Uh, sorry.

I was looking for Beth.

Yeah, I can see that.

Looking... long and... hard.

What, is that quits now?

Oh, that's right.

Go back to your
procrast-urbating

I'm done with my answers.

Are you?

No.

Stop cheating.

How can you write like that?

Well...

I found these miraculous...

clawlike appendages
at the end of my arms,

and they were ideal
for clutching blunt instruments...

such as this, a pencil.

I meant, wouldn't it just be
easier to use your laptop?

I'd be lost without mine.

I don't have a laptop.

I come from
a no-parent family.

We spend most of our money
on gravestones

Ah.

I'm sorry.

Maybe you could use
Posy's computer.

Maybe I could.

I forgive you.

Your shoes are massive.

There you are.

Yep, here I am.

What are you doing here?

I thought you'd finished
for the day.

Um, I was wondering
about Oxford.

Um, and I wondered
if the offer still stands...

for me to come with you.

I thought you said
you didn't want to come.

Of course I want to come.

You don't have to.

I don't mind.
I'm not bothered.

I want to come.

Well, the offer's still there.

I'd love you to come.

Wicked.
Cup of tea?

Yeah, great.

What's that?

It's a doggie bag, Granny.

Is it Bonnie's food?

No, Granny, um...

doggie bag, as in leftovers.

Bonnie's dead, remember?

Bonnie's dead?

- Bonnie's dead!
- Yes, yes.

Well, well, when?

Why didn't somebody tell me?

Oh, Annie...

Why didn't you tell me?

Why didn't somebody tell me?

What are you doing?

Nothing.

The usual, boring.

I was wondering...

if you would like to go
out to dinner.

I can't, darling.

I've got tons to do.

Oh, come on.

It's Friday night.

I'm onto something here.

Really, I...
I can't just stop now.

Fine.
Starve then.

You're not going
to need that today.

Um...

You're going on afield trip.

Hmm, what about the Shrew?

She's in London with Posy
for an audition, so... let's go.

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ Are you following me ¶

¶ Or am I following you? ¶

¶ Tell me, how do you do ¶

¶ What you do ¶

Come with me.

¶ 'Cause the truth is ¶

¶ I never thought two ¶

So where are we going?

You'll see.

¶ Could ever come ¶

¶ Close as we do ¶

¶ ¶

You are very quiet.

Have I bored you to death?

No... the opposite.

It's just...

My dad was never around
to talk to about him...

Arthur.

All I have are a collection
of his books my mum gave me.

That's your experience, Emelia.

That's you.

And it's your experiences
that shape you as a writer.

When I wrote The Cliff House,
it was me.

It ripped everything I had
from my soul.

It devoured me.

And it's left me with nothing.

But, fuck, it was good.

Even if you do say so yourself.

¶ If I could bottle you up
in an essence or two ¶

¶ I would sip you forever
and never need you ¶

¶ 'Cause I howl at the moon
and the sun and the sea ¶

¶ But I wish I could tell
what this spell is on me ¶

¶ And I don't know how you do
what you do ¶

¶ But Shakespeare has nothing
on words like you do ¶

¶ Don't know how you do
what you do ¶

¶ Please do it to me ¶

Thank you.

That was one of the best days
of my life.

There was no one at the desk
when we got in,

so we helped ourselves
to our key...

only to find that the room
wasn't cleaned.

It's not on.

No, it's not,

but I left my husband
manning the fort today,

and you know what men are like.

No.

In the book,
the rooms are clean.

Look.

Here and, uh, here

and here.

"The room sparkles."

It says it.

Where have you been?

Meeting a new editor.

I'm Jonathan Fischer,
the author.

Hi...

Actually, the room
was sparkling...

with energy and atmosphere.

Yeah, right, yeah, of course.

The room is through here,

if you would like to take
your Wife for a tour.

Yeah.
Lovely.

Let's go.

Come on, Margaret.
Bring the cagoules

Jonathan,

how could you not have noticed
that that bloody girl...

didn't turn up?

Oh...
didn't she turn up?

You said, "bloody"

Bethany!

¶ ¶

¶ Oh, yeah ¶

¶Ooh¶

¶ Mr. Big Stuff I

¶ Who do you think you are? ¶

¶ Mr. Big Stuff I

¶ You're never gonna get
my love ¶

¶ Now because you wear
all those fancy clothes ¶

¶ Oh, yeah ¶

¶ And have a big, fine car,
oh, yes, you do, now ¶

¶ Do you think I can afford
to give you my love? ¶

¶ Oh, yeah ¶

¶ You think you're higher
than every star above? ¶

¶ Mr. Big Stuff I

Dad?

Have you seen Emelia?

No, isn't she here?

And why ask me?

I only asked if you'd seen her.

She just didn't show up
for work this morning.

That's all.

Hmm...

Oh, thank God.

I thought I was going
to be arrested.

Why?
What have you done?

Oh.

Well, I am 17.

Unless there's some strange
local bylaw I don't know about,

and kissing's
been deemed illegal.

Well, anyway, got other things
to Worry about today,

starting with a showdown with
the Shrew 'cause of you.

Why, what-what's going on?

What's she said?

All right, keep your Wig on.

It's about yesterday.

Somebody was supposed
to cover for me.

You're not very good at this,
are you?

Are you coming to Posy's party?

It's a P party, but...

Um...

So she can come as a princess.

You can come as... a pervert.

Or a... pedophile.

Finish your food, Posy.

Emelia said
to give peas a chance.

I love Emelia.

She's great, isn't she, Dad?

Yes.

Yes, she's great.

So can she come
to Posy's party on Saturday?

- No.
- Of course she can come.

What on Earth are you
talking about?

It's bad enough
that Beth's decided...

she's going up to Oxford
with her.

It's not like she's
one of our kids.

Of course she can come
to Posy's party.

I'm finished.

Fine, get down.

Can I watch Sex and the City?

Thanks, Dad.

¶ ¶

¶ Aw, unh! ¶

¶ Hoo! ¶

¶ ¶

Where do you want me
to put this?

Oh, just there, anywhere.

It's fine.

¶ ¶

¶ Unh! ¶

¶ ¶

Hey!

Hello, Peter.

Why are you wearing
that massive coat?

To stash this.

And I'd have felt self-conscious
on the bus wearing this.

Oh, my God, you look amazing.

¶ ¶

¶ Aww, unh! ¶

Bethany.

Better go and help my mum

before she has
a nervous breakdown.

Wait here.

¶Ooh!¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

Hiya.

Hi.

¶ ¶

Ooh!

You look unbelievable.

Um, is that appropriate
behavior for a man of the cloth?

I can't help it.

Oh, well, it's not
the sexiest of outfits.

Was Piglet taken?

¶ Aw, unh! ¶

¶ Hoo! ¶

¶ Uno, dos, tres ¶

¶ Quatro, cinco, seis ¶

¶ Siete, ocho ¶

¶ Aw, unh! ¶

I'll go out first.

Don't come until I'm out
and away, okay?

I won't come at all
after that performance.

Joa.

What were you doing in there?

I spilled fromage frais
on my ecclesiastical smock.

Where's Beth?

Definitely not
in the cleaning cupboard.

That's for sure.

Fuck.

You stop right there,
young lady.

What's going on?

I have just found,

in your underage daughter's
bedroom,

this...
at a children's party.

You are weeks away
from your exams,

and you've started
drinking alcohol?

You still have to work.

Keep it together, Beth.

Oh, who bloody cares?

You want to be a dropout too,
do you?

Like that ghastly girl that
you've been hanging around with?

Emelia is amazing.

You're just too...

bloody stupid to see it.

While you are living
under our roof...

and you are only 17,

Bethany, you will live
by our rules.

Tell her, Jonathan.

I mean, it's hardly
a terrible crime, Joe.

It's Beth
we are talking about...

Her idea of rebellion is staying
up late for News at 10:00.

Shouldn't we just be grateful
that she's showing some spark...

for the first time in her life?

In fact, I applaud that
she's being more like Emelia.

At least she's getting
some spirit about her.

Gobsmacking

Utterly gobsmacking

Parent of the year award.

On, thank God.

I actually thought I was gonna
have to go with my mum.

Well, don't worry.

I'm ready.

Come on.

What do you think
he meant by "staircase"?

Seriously?

Can't recognize stairs?

Don't think you'll get in here.

Don't say that.

Ah, hello.
Staircase 12.

Ah.

Oh, my God.

I have never seen so many
ugly men in all my life.

I mean, look at them.

Looks like they wear
their brains on the outside.

Obviously, I chose
The Queen's College...

because of a lifelong
fascination

with the Jacobean playwright
Thomas Middleton.

I assume you know why all of
the colleges are built in quads?

Is it so that geeks
only have to look at each other...

when they open the curtains
in the morning?

And what are you hoping to read?

Wasn't it to keep
the gownies safe from attack...

from the townies?

Good girl.

I do like a lady
who does her homework.

Bet he fucking does.

And so when he asked me
how I knew,

I said, "Well, sir,
as Sherlock Holmes always said",

Elementary, my dear Watson".

It was quite funny, 'cause his
name was also Watson, you see.

Holmes never said that.

I'll think you'll find
that he did in his books,

but I Wouldn't expect you
to have managed to squeeze in

much Conan Doyle
during your romp

around the chick-lit bucket
at Asda.

And I think if you'd
actually read Conan Doyle,

you'd find out
that you're wrong.

In 1892, he used the words,

"it was very superficial,
my dear Watson,"

and in the following year,
he said simply, "Elementary".

He never, ever
said them together,

you fuck-trumpet.

Emelia, I am trying
to get a place here.

- Yeah, but he was
a pompous twat.

All right, sorry.

Come on, We'll go out
for a drink.

Ugh, shared showers are rancid.

I swear there was a pubic hair
doll in the plughole.

Ah, look at you, hot patootie.

I look ridiculous.

No, you don't.

I just don't want to
be embarrassing.

You're not embarrassing.

I'm not your mum.

Doesn't bother me what you wear.

Wear what you want.
You look amazing.

- To Oxford.
- Oxford.

Shall we have another?

Interview's not until Friday.

Yes.

Tell you what.

Let's get them
to get us another.

All right.
Come on then.

My sister and I were wondering
if you'd like to buy us...

a couple of pints... of wine.

We're sisters.

Yeah, she said.

Go on then.

¶ Yeah ¶

¶ Pick up that sound ¶

¶ Yeah ¶

¶ Pick up that sound ¶

¶ Yeah ¶

¶ Pick up that sound ¶

¶ Pick up that sound ¶

¶ They did it again ¶

¶ They did it again ¶

¶ They did it again ¶

¶ Yeah ¶

¶ Pick up that sound ¶

¶ Pick up that sound ¶

¶ They did it again ¶

¶ They did it again ¶

¶ They did it again ¶

Emelia.

Mmm?

Mmm...

How did this happen?

Just stick your fingers
down your throat.

Honestly, you'll be fine.
I do it all the time.

Oi!
Can't you read?

Get off of that grass!

What are you doing?

I'm going to do it for you.

What?

The interview.

It's been moved to today,
but it's fine.

I'm going to do
the interview for you, as you.

Today?

How do I look?

It's today?
When today?

Well, there was a notice
stuck to the door.

It said 2:00, but...

it'll be fine.

I can bluff this for you.

Don't be ridiculous.

Come on, pass me my notes.

Come on.

It's all right.
Don't panic.

¶ ¶

¶ Who gives a fuck
about an Oxford comma? ¶

¶ I've seen those
English dramas too ¶

¶ They're cruel ¶

¶ So if there's any other way
to spell the word ¶

¶ it's fine with me, with me ¶

Bye.

So hoW'd it go?

Touch and go on all fronts.

I did offer, though.
Can you imagine?

I know.
It was a stupid suggestion.

You know absolutely nothing
about medicine.

I dunno, I've taken some
drugs in my time.

Why am I not surprised?

But you did it, Beth.

I mean, you just went
right ahead and did it.

You look absolutely
ridiculous, by the way.

¶ Who gives a fuck
about an Oxford climber? ¶

¶ I climbed to Dharamsala too ¶

¶ I did ¶

¶ I met the highest lama ¶

¶ His accent sounded fine
to me ¶

Where did you get
that book from?

Oh, I borrowed it
from one of the rooms.

Do you know there's one
in every drawer?

You don't have
to be embarrassed.

I do know what it's like,
you know.

I mean, my great-grandfather is
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Don't know why you keep
going on about it.

I mean, unless you're actually
Arthur Conan Doyle,

it's just a pointless hindrance,
isn't it?

My dad's
Jonathan A. Fischer.

So what?

Hello, darling.

Come on, give me a hug.

Emelia, are you coming back
for dinner?

Um, no, thanks, Mr. Fischer.

I've got to get back home.

But I'll see you on Monday.

Okay, see you then.

Bye.

She ate it all.

She's not doing too badly.

What are you doing, Emelia?

I'm eating my dinner,
same as you.

Surely you can't find
fault in that.

No, I mean with your life.

What are you going
to do with yourself?

What do you mean?
I'm writing a book.

I'm a Conan Doyle.

It's in my blood,
for goodness' sake.

And I'm really good at it.

Emelia... life is not
a fairy tale.

What is that supposed to mean?

Look, I'm just saying,

it's not all
that's in your blood.

Don't... waste your life
like your mother did.

Don't cut yourself off because
of some fantasy you have.

It's too late to start
with me now...

just 'cause your own
daughter killed herself.

Where have you been?

No.

No?

No what?

That's not the answer
to that question.

No, I'm not into you any more.

All right.

Bye then.

Babe?

"In my younger
and more vulnerable years,

"my father gave me some advice
that I've been turning over...

in my mind ever since."

it's an odd first line,

given the absence
of a father character.

It's good.

It's very good.

Don't worry.
A little overwritten.

Sometimes you get very confused
by the use of a simile.

There's something there.

You seem very distracted.

Is it that you can't take
criticism?

Jonathan...

Dad?

Come on.

Hurry.

Can you sign this, please?

What is it?

Parental consent
for my Leavers' Ball.

Do I have to do this now?

That's a bit
of a lifeless outfit.

Well, it's obviously
reflecting my personality.

She didn't make it.

She's gone.

Are you going to dress up
for the school ball?

Wear something special?

Beth?

What's wrong?

Nothing.

I know What's Wrong.

Beth thinks you love Emelia
more than her.

You wish Emelia
was your daughter.

What was I fucking thinking?

Hey.

Hey.

Just wondered if you fancied
a cup of tea?

Oh, I can't.

Got to get back, unfortunately.

My bloody mother.

Are you all right?

My granny died.

When?

Why didn't you call me?

I'm so sorry.

Excuse me, has your room
been cleaned?

Not yet. Yours?

I heard the lady on the desk
moaning about the cleaner

not showing up for work.

What about that pretty one?

If only we were
20 years younger, eh?

Hello.

How are you?

There's been a lot
to sort out, but I'm fine.

You look bloody awful, though.
What's up?

- I've just been sick
every morning this week.

I think it's just a bug.

But isn't that morning sickness?

Can't be, can it?

We used a condom.

Don't worry.
I'll get you a test.

Emelia?

Can you come up, please?

Emelia, I...

There's something-
- Jonathan-

I'm sorry.
I just want...

I can't write.
I can't do it.

Of course you can.

I quite often think of a quote
by Tolstoy.

"In a writer, there
must always be two people,

the writer and the critic."

When I was writing
The Cliff House-

For God's sake,
get over The Cliff House.

What do you mean by that?

You haven't lived
a bloody day since, have you?

I mean, what else have you
achieved in the last 20 years?

I've read your other work,

and it sure ain't Tolstoy.

Unless it's the sequel,
Bore and Cease.

What's this?

Nothing.

What was that?

That better not be what
I thought it was, young lady.

"What's this?
What's that?"

What's it got to do
with you, anyway?

It's got everything
to do with me.

You think you're pregnant?

I'm not pregnant.
It's negative.

So why don't you just fuck off!

Had your head so far
up your own ass,

you can't have seen
daylight in years.

Do you even know that you
questioned The Great Gatsby?

You idiot.

You told Truman Capote
he need not to be so obvious...

with his metaphors.

What on Earth
are you talking about?

Half of the stuff I gave you
as samples weren't even mine.

I just copied them
from books by my bed.

Why are you being so cruel
and childish?

Because I am a child.

I'm best friends
with your daughter,

in case you hadn't noticed.

Emelia, you don't need
to do this.

I can't do this
to Beth any more.

And I hate you
for being able to.

It's all right.

It's going to be all right.

You're okay.

Thank fuck.

Come on.

Get your things together.
We're going out.

Okay.

Let's go out.

Let me put some makeup on
my big, fat, swollen face.

Did you know that Beth
is now having sex?

Did you?

Well, she is, so maybe you can
think about that next time

before you celebrate her
for getting sloshed.

I mean, look at the mess
she is in

because of that stupid girl.

You're just so selfish.

You lock yourself away up here

as if you're curing cancer

instead of churning out
a potboiler once a decade.

You think buying this house
is just your entire contribution

to this family done, don't you?

That's your bit done, isn't it?

I've been sleeping with Emelia.

You have got to be joking.

Shall we get going, then?

Fat fucking father you are.

You've been fucking the maid?

If you want to put it
that way, um, yes, I have.

I am going to throw up.

Shall we head out, then?

Let's head out.

So while I've been bringing up
the kids and running this house...

and this business has been
hanging around my neck...

draining every last morsel
of energy I've got left,

you have been up here...

fucking our daughter's
best friend!

I'm leaving you.

Although, um,
I'll be keeping the house,

so technically,

you'll actually be leaving me.

Beth...

I want you gone by morning.

You can clear all of this out.

Want you to take it with you.

I thought you were my friend.

I am, Beth.

I am.

Not you, you fucking idiot.

Look, Mummy, I'm Emelia!

See, my dad's right.

I can't get anything
through my thick skull.

Beth?
Beth?

Beth, I need to talk to you.

Beth, I'm sorry.

I didn't mean for it to happen,

any of it, I just...

I want us to be friends again.

We can't be friends, Emelia.

You're a liar.

No, I'm not.

You... you know everything now.

You must know why I had to lie.

I did a bad thing.

I'm not talking about that.

Your name may not be
Serena Molina,

but it certainly isn't
Conan Doyle either.

What?

Do you actually believe
your name is Conan Doyle?

Grandpa,
can I ask you a question?

Yeah.

Was my father the grandson
of Arthur Conan Doyle?

Well, his name was Doyle.

Was it Conan Doyle?

Was he related to the author?

Your mother did a lot of things
for the right reasons...

and a lot of things
for the wrong reasons.

Your father's name was Doyle.

But...

it wasn't Conan Doyle.

Me and your granny felt
it would have crushed you

to take it away from you
after your mum died.

It seemed... another cruelty.

We knew how much
it meant to you.

This just means
that the foundation...

that my life's built on
is based on lies.

My ambition to be a writer
is based on a lie.

I need to rewrite myself.

But you can.

You're a great writer anyway,

without all that nonsense.

You can't push everybody away,
Emelia.

Your mother Wanted you so much.

She can't have wanted me
that much.

She jumped off a bridge
onto a main road.

Millie, she was ill.

Her mind wasn't right.

But she'd be so proud of how
clever you've made yourself.

Because of him, without him,

what does it matter?

It's just a name, Emelia.

It's just an albatross
around your neck, really,

but you just can't see that yet.

You're still special, you know.

Special bloody needs,
thanks to her.

- You'll stop being angry
with her one day.

And with yourself.

You're a writer.

But if you change your mind...

and want to go
to college instead,

there's money, you know.

I don't need anything
but to upgrade my tea bags

every once in a while.

Well, don't go bloody mad.

I want some kind of inheritance.

Daddy!

Hello, my darling.

Are you coming home?

No, I'm not.

I'm just here to drive my
Oxford undergrad to college.

Hi.

Hi.

Thank you for letting me
drive you.

Hi, hello.

Hi.

How are you?

Good.

Hear you got a job.

Yes, I'm teaching
creative writing.

Oh. Huh.

Let's go.

Come on, then.

Grab something.

Yes.

Hi, um... can I get this
printed on A-4 and bound?

Yep, no problem.

Just take a seat.

¶ ¶

¶ We've all been changed ¶

¶ From what we were ¶

¶ Our broken hearts ¶

¶ Left smashed on the floor ¶

¶ I can't believe you ¶

¶ If I can't hear you ¶

¶ I can't believe you ¶

¶ If I can't hear you ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ We've all been changed ¶

¶ From what we were ¶

¶ Our broken hearts ¶

¶ Smashed on the floor ¶

¶ We've all been changed ¶

¶ From what we were ¶

¶ Our broken hearts ¶

¶ Smashed on the floor ¶

¶ Someone turn me 'round ¶

¶ Can I start this again? ¶

¶ Now someone turn us 'round ¶

¶ Can we start this again? ¶

¶ We've all been changed ¶

¶ From what we were ¶

¶ Our broken hearts ¶

¶ Left smashed on the floor ¶

¶ I can't believe you ¶

¶ If I can't hear you ¶

¶ I can't believe you ¶

¶ If I can't hear you ¶

¶ I never wondered
now the world kept turning ¶

¶ Till the middle of my world
came crashing in ¶

¶ Then I got to wondering how
I never got to wondering ¶

¶ Way back then ¶

¶ ¶

¶ And you see these walls that
wrap themselves around me ¶

¶ They made me promise that
I'd never let you in ¶

¶ And at night when I say
it's just the way ¶

¶ it's always been ¶

¶ So I wish you well ¶

¶ Yes, I wish you well ¶

¶ Yes, I wish you well ¶

¶ Oh, I wish you well ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ I wonder what you know
when you are happy ¶

¶ And I wonder,
do you ever know I hurt? ¶

¶ 'Cause all my tears,
well, they have roots ¶

¶ And they keep growing
in your dirt ¶

¶ Ah-ah ¶

¶ Oh, I wish you well ¶

¶ Oh, I wish you well ¶

¶ ¶

¶ Well, I wish you well ¶

¶ Yes, I wish you well ¶

¶ Oh, I wish you well ¶

¶ Yes, I wish you well ¶

¶ ¶