All language subtitles for Shining Vale S01E03

Terry, watch out!

There was a little girl!

This is Pat Phelps.

She bought the
big house on Elm.

Is something wrong
with the house?

It is a treasure.

No basement, but the attic
has plenty of storage.

Kam read the page
that I wrote in the attic

which
I don't even remember writing.

She was a complete alcoholic.

Sober for over 16 years.

My kids ignore me.

When do you wear a cross?

I'm allowed to
have spirituality!

- Hi, is Gaynor around?

Seems our children
have developed a friendship.

Pat's seeing ghosts.

One ghost.
It's a '50s housewife.

She keeps popping up
in my dreams.

Good news, Patricia.

You're not crazy.

Oh, my God.
What the hell!

Come on, you bitch.

- What's up?
- Nothing, nothing.

I'm just admiring your

toddler-trapped-under-a-Toyota-
like strength

and our newly-gouged floors.

I know you don't wanna
hear this, but we have a ghost

and I'm pretty sure
she lives in this closet.

Oh.

Gaynor, I'm sorry
to freak you out.

- I'm cool.
- Okay, okay.

Let's--let's assume
we do have a ghost, Pat.

And let's say that that ghost
lives right there

in this closet.

Do you really think
that this armoire situation

is the best way
to keep her from haunting us?

- Don't condescend.
- Mm.

The armoire
is a stopgap measure.

Great.

Ghost problem solved.

Let's have breakfast.

I just wanted a quiet place
so I can get some privacy.

Leave me alone.

I think the ghost
was jerking off.

I wasn't expecting you
until tomorrow.

Oh, go ahead, Terry.
It was your idea.

Okay.

When we moved
into the house, I feel--

I'm still seeing the ghost,

and Terry doesn't
believe me, so.

I'm sorry.
Were you done?

No, it was just a breath
between two sentences.

- This is the '50s housewife?
- Mm-hmm.

I know you thought she would go
away with more antidepressants,

but I'm seeing her
even more now.

And I'm hearing music coming
from the closet, which--

Terry just
completely dismisses it.

I don't get the satisfaction
of dismissing it.

I can't see it.

That's because
you're never home.

I am bouncing around the house

stuck on page one
of my fucking book,

and you're off in the city
doing who knows what.

You know what.
I have a job.

I work and I'm often in
the city prepping with Kathéryn.

Kathéryn.

Do you hear that, Dr Berg?
That can't be healthy.

Every time I mention
my coworker's name,

she parrots it.

What? I just like the way you
say Kathéryn versus Pat.

My firm is pitching
to manage the pension

of the New York Archdiocese.

It's a gigantic deal.

And they paired me
with an expert.

- Kathéryn is--
- Kathéryn.

Pat, she's not some tasty
piece of ass.

She's your age.

Can we just sit with that
for a moment?

Let's put a pin in Kathryn
and get back to your ghost.

I'm wondering if she's
a projection of the part of you

that is trapped at home.

the Pat who's
a repressed housewife.

What?
What's, ""?

No, it's not an insult.

It's just you don't cook
and you don't clean.

You don't act repressed.

- I'm plenty fucking repressed.
- Mm.

Let's--let's get back on point.

You think I'm schizophrenic.

I- I swear if I get one more
crazy diagnosis,

I'm gonna go nuts.

Let's avoid the word "crazy."

It's not uncommon for a writer

to create an alter ego
to unlock creativity.

So you mean
like a ghostwriter?

Let's say she's your muse.

She's obviously been
stoking your imagination.

Try engaging her.

Hmm.
Okay.

In the meantime,
here's a scrip

for anti-anxiety medication
just for the week.

Not another one.

Just take the Clonazepam.

I've--I've been
with you 15 minutes.

Even my plants are nervous.

Oh, my God. I'm so sorry.

Oh, hi, Ryan.

Hey. Wow. Gaynor.
What's up?

Uh, not much.

I'm just thinking about

your share at Chastity Club
last week.

How you almost jerked off
to that Snapchat.

- That was powerful.
- Oh, well, I was talking--

I was talking about making
a Chastity Club Facebook page.

Still really powerful.

And your share about

how you had sex
with your upstairs neighbor.

Was a joke.

Obviously, I'm just trying
to get a rise out of the group.

Well, it worked.
Three people left.

Shit--shoot.
Sorry.

Uh, so hey,
uh, what are you doing later?

Uh, not much.

Praying. Praying probably.

You wanna come over for dinner?

You guys do that?
Hells yeah.

- Um...

I'll see you later
for a home-cooked meal.

Yeah.

- Hey, Mrs. Phelps.
- Hi, Guy.

Give me a few minutes
and I'll--I'll get this filled.

Okay.
I'll just be right over here.

You don't care.
Okay.

Hi, hi!

Holy shit, Robyn.

Are we okay?

Yeah, we're fine.

Oh, a-actually, is there
something you forgot to mention

about the house you sold us?

Of course,
she has stories to tell.

Every life leaves a mark.

Secrets and old clocks

and broken lockets,
and hidden staircases.

Those are just
Nancy Drew titles.

- Are they?
- Uh-huh.

You are so well-read.

Is the house
fucking haunted or not?

Mrs. Phelps.

Looks like your medicine
is ready.

Yeah, it's for my allergies.

They don't have that
many plants in Brooklyn.

I have your Clonazepam.

Oh, great.
I'll take it from here.

This is a Class Four
psychotropic.

You understand possible side
effects include hallucinations?

Yup.

- Sleepwalking.
- Got it.

- Blackouts.
- No problem.

- Memory loss.
- Copy that.

- Disorientation.
- Yep. No driving.

No heavy machinery.
Bye.

No pressure,
just a billion-dollar portfolio.

I know I'm not allowed
to say this, but normally,

if we were pitching men,
I would put Kathryn out front.

But given the audience,
we'll go with the altar boy.

I don't know why either of us
would find that offensive.

Take the compliment.

You're the smartest woman I know
who looks like you.

Mm-hmm.

- Anyway, what do I say?
- Crush it.

There you go. All right.
Don't fuck up, guys.

I know I'm not supposed
to say this,

but he can be an ass.

Oh, I think
you're allowed to say that.

Hey, babe.

Yes, I'm in a meeting.

Yeah. Yes, it's with Terry.

Okay, bye.

That Blake?

Apparently,
I talk about you a lot.

Yeah, Pat says
the same thing about you.

So...should we do it?

Go over the presentation.

Yes, abso--
Yes, we shall.

We shall do it.

It's weird. It's not here.

Okay, I've got five hours
before the kids come home.

One page, no distractions.

No.

What to write?
Okay.

- Mm.

God, that's good.

Oh.

A sudden tropical heat
was rising up...

Sweat pooling
in Cressida's navel

making her feel so... so...

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Oh, gross.

Making her feel so, um,

aroused?

Sexy pants?

Oh, come on.

Come on, ghost.

Muse me.

Languorous.

Fuck yes.

Mm.

Hey. What's up?

Oh, thank God, Pat.
Are you home?

Yeah, I'm just in the middle
of working.

- You okay?
- No, no. I'm not okay.

I left my presentation
at the house.

I must have left it
on the desktop in my office.

Can you email it to me, please?

- Of course. What's it called?
- Uh...

Terry-Church-Kathéryn.

Kathéryn.

Pat!

Kathéryn.

Hey, I'm sending it now.

Honey, Pat, what--
what took you so long?

You said you were sending this
almost an hour ago.

It hasn't been an hour.
It's been...

- 58 minutes. What?
- Honey, honey.

I have a room full
of very stern-looking priests

waiting for me
in the other room.

I'm getting flashbacks
to Jesuit school.

Please send this.

Okay. I'm sorry.

I-I must have lost track
of time.

Here, it's coming now.

Okay.
Yes, got it.

I am terribly sorry
for the delay, gentlemen.

Let he who has never lost
a document in the cloud

cast the first stone.

I wanna start by thanking
my partner, Kathéryn,

who has generously shared
much of her work

for me to present here today.

Oh, let's see how it goes,
first.

Okay, all right.
So Campbell & Burke.

We know we're not
the biggest firm on the street,

but we've got a secret weapon.

How'd that get in there?

St. Joseph's class of '86.

All right, all right,
Campbell & Burke.

We put together
a three-prong strategy here

to manage
the church's portfolio.

Safety, return, ethics.

What I call the holy trinity
of investing.

And I'd like to start
right here with safety.

Sorry about that.

Let's just move on to return.

We're obviously having
technical difficulties here.

If you would just--
um, ethics.

There.
Ah, here we go.

All right?

Very sorry. Wow.

Uh, we are in full compliance
with U.S. Conference

of Catholic Bishops
investment guidelines

so that we can protect
your assets and values

allowing you to sit back
and suck a hot dick.

- Excuse me?

- This is offensive.
- Fuck me.

Languorous?

What the hell
does that even mean?

Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom.

Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom.

What the fuck.

I called your name
like 11 times.

Sorry, honey, I was--
I must have zoned out.

What's a turgid manhood?

Okay, give me your phone
right now.

Why?

Because I don't want you
reading porn.

It's sexist and misogynist

and it's gonna destroy you
as a man,

not to mention
the coats in our closet.

But it wasn't on my phone.

It's on your laptop right next
to "apricot nipples."

What?

Wait, page 14?

What the hell?

"Couldn't stop thinking
about her apricot nipples."

Oh, my God.

- Mom?
- Okay, um,

well, why don't you
go play outside?

Okay, can I bring
my AR goggles?

Yeah, fine.

How's that different
from my phone?

- Just take the win.
- Okay.

My name's Fauna.

Before we start our journey,
some very important rules.

Skip intro.

Let's explore.

Fauna,
what kind of fungus is that?

That is a poisonous
A. phalloides mushroom,

also known as the death angel.

Boring.

Let's hit the woods.

Pat?

Hi.

I've had the weirdest day.

Me too.

Someone messed
with my presentation

and I told an entire room full
of priests to suck a hot dick.

Oh, my God.
Really?

Yeah, it was pretty bad.

Who would do that to you?

You don't think
I would do that?

Well, come on.
Why would I do that to you?

I don't know.
Maybe you, uh--

maybe you resent all the time
I'm working with Kathéryn.

Please, don't.

I've been working all day.
I wrote 13 pages.

I mean, how am I supposed
to have time to do my work

and sabotage your work
and take care of our kids?

Pat, it was so humiliating.

Where are the kids?

Fauna, where are we going?

You shouldn't be here.

Shit.

What's the last thing
he said to you?

Don't say last thing
like he's dead.

Poor kid.
He falls through the cracks.

Eating so much candy
and whacking off,

it's just a cry for help.

Well...

What's up?

Come here.

- Are you all right?
- I am so sorry.

About what?

What are you talking--

okay, why are you touching me?

You're safe and home and...

You're a little ripe, too.

Why don't you go upstairs
and--and take a shower, okay?

And I'll order some dinner in.

- Hey.
- Where have you been?

I had dinner at Ryan's house.
His mom cooked.

Actually, you should try it.

I'm glad you liked it,

'cause you'll be doing
a lot of it

when you have 12 kids
and wear a giant bonnet.

It's not The Handmaid's Tale.

Whatever.
They're trying to convert you.

From what?
What are we?

We're a family
and that should be good enough--

What's that sound?

Is it coming from the oven?

Apparently, I made a casserole.

Apparently?

You don't remember?

What?

Oh, my God,
obviously I remember.

Jesus.

Since when did this family
lose their sense of humor?

Okay, guys.
Come on.

Who's ready for a cooked...

cornflake something?

Come on, muse.

Mama needs another 13-page day.

Hello?
Languorous?

Oh, God.

We don't have
a fucking basement.

Where the fuck is the basement?

- Oh, boy.
- What a mess.

You know,
Thom suspended me for a week.

I got forever.

- No, no.
- Yeah.

They can't fire you.
Why not me?

You've been here longer.

You're a bigger earner.

You're a guy.

No, this--this is
completely unfair.

I'm- I'm gonna talk to Thom.

No, no, no, no, no.
Stop.

I'm gonna find out
who did this.

Mm, pretty sure
I figured it out.

No, I already asked.

Believe me. It wasn't her.

Anyway, um, good luck, Terry.

Good luck, "Kathéryn."

It's Kathryn.

There's no "er."
Just Kathryn.

- No "er."
- No "er." Just--

Oh, my God.

Yoo-hoo! Gaynor!

Can I give you a ride?

Uh, sure. Yeah.
Thanks, Mrs. He.

Gaynor, do you know why
you moved here?

Yeah.
My mom boned the handyman.

Sorry,
she layeth with the carpenter.

No offense, dashboard Jesus.

I believe
something in that house

wanted your family there.

Okay, you can drop me off
right here.

I believe there are dark forces
in that house

that have attached themselves

to vulnerable women
over the years.

Wear this medal.
It'll offer protection.

I'm not really a saint person.

- Put it on!
- Okay.

Wonderful.

God bless!

Freak.

Pat?

- Oh, my God.

Pat?

What the hell?

Found the source of the music.

Not so crazy now, huh?

What is this place?

Well, apparently we have
a vintage Tiki bar.

When I saw it I was, like,

"Terry's gonna be
so fucking happy."

Why aren't you
so fucking happy?

Because I know it was you
who sabotaged my presentation.

The IT guy said that

your digital fingerprints were
all over it, so you lied to me.

Terry, I swear
I have no memory of doing that.

You have to believe me.

Why would I do that?

Not the first time
you've lied to me, is it?

Because I blacked out.

It's a side effect
of Clonazepam.

I don't remember writing.
I don't remember cooking.

I don't remember
much of anything.

Well, why didn't you tell me?

Because I haven't written
anything meaningful

in seven years

and then all of a sudden,
I wrote 13 pages.

I can't tell you how happy
I was just to feel productive.

I felt like it was worth

putting up
with a few side effects.

I got suspended for a week.

Kathryn just lost her job.

Those are pretty
major side effects.

I'm so sorry.

Okay, I will call Thom tomorrow
and tell him

that I had a bad reaction
to the medication.

I'll talk to Thom.

What are we gonna do
about you, Pat?

- What?
- I'm good.

That--that is the headline here.

I am good.

Dr. Berg was right.

I found my muse.

And we have a fucking Tiki bar!

I mean, come on.
Be fucking happy.

- Okay, put the axe down.
- All right.

Well,

I guess I could do a little
woodwork around here, right?

You know,

maybe you put up those little
twinkling hula lights.

Jukebox?

- Does it work?
- Yep.

Wow.

Maybe update it
with some '70s songs.

Yeah, probably.

Pat...

I just want us
to be a normal family.

Not just for us,

for the kids.

We will be.

I promise.
Come here.

We're gonna be
so fucking normal

you're not gonna recognize us.

Welcome, Patricia.

Have a seat.

Are you my muse?

I'm Rosemary.

Rosemary?

Did you write those pages?

We wrote them together.

I'm so proud of our work.
That's why I sent them to Kam.

It's a pretty fucking overreach
for a muse.

Oh, come on.

Deep down,
you knew you wanted to.

You were just too afraid
to send them.

Just like making dinner
or Terry's presentation.

You made that casserole
and wrote "suck a hot dick"?

It's called a cornflake bake.

But "suck a hot dick"?

That was all you, darling.

I would never have wanted
to do that.

Really?

Not deep down?

Deep, deep down?

We've had a big day.

It's time to celebrate.

I-I haven't had a drink
in 16 years.

16 good years?

At least I remember them.

You're not the same person now.

I mean,
you were just a kid then.

I was 36.

You can handle
one little drink, can't you?

Come on.

Who's in charge?

- You?
- No, you.

Take charge, Patricia.
You deserve it.

Don't let a muse drink alone.

Okay.

One drink, but that's it.

- No more.
- You're the boss.

Fuck it.
Hit me.

Let's get crazy.