All language subtitles for The Good Life s02e02 The Guru of Surbiton.eng

- That's interesting.
- What is?

All the curls on the nape of your neck
grow clockwise, except for one.

Oh, yeah? Which one?

That one.

That's what you get for trying to be different.

Goodbye, curly.

Do you know, you've got a very erotic neck?

Well, of course I do.
Not so much of the lust, please.

- I never had all this trouble at the barber's.
- Sorry, sir, sorry.

'Oo do you fancy for the Cup, then,
this year, sir?

Ah, that's better. Dunno.

Oh, erm...

'ad your 'olidays this year, sir?

Nope.

Oh.

Wife keeping well?

Yep.

One-sided conversation, isn't it?

It always was.
It's the customer's duty to listen to the barber.

- The barber will soon get on his hobby horse.
- What was old Mr Webster's?

Esperanto.

Good gracious!

Fancy old Mr Webster
being able to speak Esperanto.

He couldn't speak it. He just liked to talk about it.

Oh, I see.

Right, there you are.

Ah-ah!

- Bom, ba-ba.
- Thank you.

Say, you're getting good at this.

Thank you. Next, please!

- That's you.
- Oh, no, you don't!

- Let me have a go.
- I'm letting it grow.

- Let me give you an Audrey Hepburn.
- Don't you dare!

A David Bowie!
We could dye half of it purple.

I've got it, yes! A Telly Savalas!

Yes!

I see the asylum hasn't sent the van yet.

Hello, Margo and Jerry. Come in.

Hello.

Oh, Tom.

One does not wish to be a wet blanket but
playing with scissors can be terribly dangerous.

You're very sensible, aren't you, Margo?

- I try to be.
- Sit down, then.

Well, how was Amsterdam?

Ooh, very erm... What's the word?

Very Dutch.

Yes, I suppose it would be, really.

How did you con old sir
into a free binge-up there?

- I happen to be a first-class salesman.
- And?

And the last time I played sir at golf,
I missed two three-inch putts.

- Goody two shoes.
- (Chuckles)

I bought you this.

Oh, Margo, how thoughtful! Thank you.

Simply everyone brings something back
in the shape of clogs,

when bringing a present from Holland.

But I thought,
"Margo, no. You will not follow the herd."

So I bought you a windmill.

Oh...

Oh... a paperweight.

How Dutch.

Look, look.

The sails went round in the shop, Jerry.

- Don't blame me.
- I do blame you.

I said that this must go in the hand baggage
and not be squashed. What happens?

You cram the bag to the brim
full of duty-free booze

and Tom and Barbara's little sails
won't go round.

Well, never mind.
Splash out the booze and we'll never notice.

Pop round. We'll kill a bottle of Dutch gin.

What a good idea.

Tom... is that human hair?

Afraid so.

Well... anything happen while we were away?

Ooh, yes, your allotment came through.

- Ah.
- An allotment of what?

Earth. The sort of things you see
from railway carriages.

It's next to mine.

Well, thank you very much, Jerry!

I see the real reason for that second bottle
of champagne at the Krasnapolsky now -

sweeten me up before you tell me
you'll be late for every Sunday luncheon.

- Why should I be?
- 'am not a fool. I know about allotments.

They are places men go to sit in silly little sheds
so they don't have to talk to their wives.

Brick by brick, she is building a madhouse.

If you don't want to talk to me, Jerry,

have the courage to look me straight in the face
and say, "Shut up, Margo."

Shut up, Margo.

Well, really!

Oh, Margo, it is nice to have you back.

It's been so dull.

Thank you, Barbara.
Nevertheless, Jerry, I am not...

No, no, no, listen.

Jerry's allotment is for me.

The council will only let me have one.
I need the land, so I'm having Jerry's.

Two allotments?

Surely that bomb site
you call your back garden is enough?

I need the extra yardage for my speciality crops.

- I don't follow.
- Raspberries, strawberries and blackcurrants.

They'll help us pay any big bills
we get next year... we hope.

What you might call convertible currantcy.

(Giggles)

Well, I'm sorry, I despise allotments.

They're so... Brixtony.

If you ever let anyone know one of them is
in Jerry's name, I'll never talk to you again.

Scout's honour.

Tom? Oh, sorry.

Hello. Tom, got any oil?
I want to clean the rotary cultivator.

- Have arest. It's six o'clock.
- Bags of time.

- In the shed.
- Shed, right!

What on earth was that?

That's Guy. He's a student.

We've got two of them helping us out for a week
on their holidays.

- With what?
- Stones and bricks, mostly.

He had a lot of work to do on your allotment.

Barbara will only do the front or back garden.

- I'm just bone idle, I suppose?
- Yes!

You have no money.
Will you pay them with beads and blankets?

Board and lodging.
And a novel experience, I suppose.

You mean you're keeping them in the house?

Where do you expect us to put them?
In with the pigs?

Best place for students, if you ask me.

They say the British belief in tolerance is dead.
It lives, Jerry, in you.

And the Ku Klux Klan.

Call it a blind spot, if you like.

I happen to think that students are lazy, grubby,
irresponsible ingrates.

If they're helping you with the allotment,
it's to grow next year's crop of marijuana.

And, might I add,
they repay me for subsidising their grants

by forming Maoist cells
in every one of our major cities.

Hear hear.

You've certainly opened my eyes.
They've taken me right in.

Getting up early, working like dogs -
it's all a trick.

- You wait. You'll see.
- Oh, don't be so stuffy!

They're nice kids, both of them, Guy and Ruth.

Ruth? That's a girl's name.

So it is.

One of them must be a girl, Tom.

Oh!

That must be the one with the bumps
in the jersey.

And you said their room?

Yeah.

I don't know how to phrase my next question,
Tom.

No, they're not married.

Tom!

It has been known, Margo.
People have cohabited before marriage. Ahem.

Yes, well, I can't sit gossiping here all day.

I've got a thousand things to do.

Get yourself a couple of students to help out.

Jerry, home.

Well, we'll leave you
to your hairy paragons of virtue.

- I didn't say they were perfect.
- Huh!

Just that... Well, they're so serious, aren't they?
So earnest.

You know, Tom, I know they're only 20,

but I think they're a bit old for us.

I am Replete of Surbiton.

Don't just sit there, woman,
go and do the washing up.

- Please, let us do it.
- No, let him do it.

Ching Chang Cholla?

- All right.
- Right.

Ching, chang, cholla!

Ching, chang, cholla!

- Ching, chang, cholla!
- You lose. In the kitchen.

- Please let us do it.
- Certainly not.

Go on, then.

No, don't! It's his turn, anyway.

Oh, come on, let's go and have a sit-down first.

Oh, thanks.

- I forgot my wine.
- I'll get it, Tom.

Thanks.

- Reality, Ruth.
- I know what you mean.

What?

What did he mean?

Do you know, before we came here,

we'd never eaten food before.

Really?

That dinner was food.

Yes, that's what we usually have for dinner.

But I'm making the distinction, Barbara,
between just eating...

and food.

Oh, yes.

I see.

- Well...
- Yes?

- What?
- What?

Say something, Tom.

Oh, well... Oh, yes...

I was just going to ask you
how you were getting on in university.

University? That's just a place where
a lot of students go to acquire knowledge.

True, true.

But are you getting a tick for your sums?
That's what I mean.

That is the most incisive single-line castigation
of the entire system I have ever heard.

Is it?

What Guy means, Tom,
is that here is a true university.

This is the university of life.

If you're talking about life, I'll do the washing up.

No. No, this is a really important question,
Barbara.

Oh, is it'? Go on, then.

You see, there you are...

and you decided and you're doing it.

Exactly. Yes, yes.

Whereas Ruth and me, we're here too,

who have come into it,

and to us it's a sociological revelation, you see.

You mean you like the way
we've decided to live?

Oh, why don't I shut my mouth?

Why don't I just shut my big fat mouth?

- I know what Guy means.
- Do you?

Tell us. Please tell us.

He means that you're so succinct, Tom.

You should talk and we should just listen.

Yes, we should listen.

- Perhaps...
- Shh!

Sorry.

Go on, Tom.

Don't just sit there, Maharishi, tell them.

All right! I don't know what they want to know.

We want you to expound your philosophy, Tom.

We want to know how it came to you,

how you made it happen,

and how you relate it to the rest of society.

Barbara's right, I'm not a guru.

You're underselling yourself, Tom.

I think you've got a message for the world.

The only message I've got for the world is...

leave me alone.

Barbara, why is he so modest?

Modest? He's the biggest head in Surbiton.

Sorry, sorry. Why do I always create hostility?

It was only a joke, Guy!

I'm glad you're interested in what we're doing,

but, let's face it, you've only been here four days.

- Isn't it possible you got bowled over too soon?
- No!

Well, it's a possibility, Tom.

But the only way I can be certain
is by talking right through it.

I don't care if we sit here all night.

- All night?
- I need my beauty sleep.

If I talked away all night,
how could I keep on looking like Paul Newman?

Perhaps you're right.
Perhaps I should sleep on it.

- But do you think the concept of a kibbutz...
- Guy, Tom told us to go to bed.

- It wasn't an order.
- I know.

Yes. Sorry. Goodnight.

Goodnight, Barbara. Goodnight, Tom.

Night night.

Sleep tight.

- Heavy going, aren't they?
- Yeah.

Were you that intense
when you were their age?

Me? No.

All I worried about was whether this would-be
sophisticate was going to ask me out.

Did he?

Yes, you phoned up. Don't you remember?

What do you mean "would-be sophisticate"?

You were.

You had a car.
Impressed my mum and dad no end.

The best seat at the Odeon. Box of chocolates.

Arm straight round the back of the chair,
no messing about.

So? So?

You ruined it all when you stuck your finger
in that woman's raspberry ripple.

You would remember that bit, wouldn't you?

- Young love.
- Yeah.

(Sighs)

Now you've got another case to deal with.

- What are you talking about?
- Ruth fancies you.

She doesn't.

She does.

Never.

Does she?

Plain as a pikestaff.
Can't keep her eyes off you.

Little bosom heaves every time she looks at you.

No. What else does she do?

You're loving this, aren't you?

It's of no importance one way or the other to me.

- Why are you holding your stomach in?
- I'm not.

Yes. Young girls like that are very susceptible
to aging lotharios.

She's just a child.

- It's not that small.
- What isn't?

Her bosom.

Come on. I'm not denying that I'm conscious
of women's bosoms.

I'm just saying, "Well, all right."
Perhaps the child has got a thing about me.

- You like it.
- 1i.

And perhaps she hasn't.
Perhaps you've made this up.

- Why should I make it up?
- Oh, why should...

It's just about the time when you would.
You're a bit past it, your figure's gone.

An insane fit of jealousy, well...

Jealousy's only to be expected.

- Aren't you going to thump me?
- No.

The thing is, Tom, there's an element of truth
in what you say.

Oh, no, love, come on. I was only kidding.

So was I.

- You...
- (Shrieks)

(Door slams)

God, that rush hour gets worse every day.

It took me half an hour to get across
London Bridge this evening.

Sorry, I have no time to discuss London Bridge.

Good evening, Jerry.

- Would you sharpen these pencils, please.
- Yes, of course.

- What's for dinner?
- Don't confuse me, please.

I only asked what was for dinner.

- Where are those pads I bought for bridge?
- I can't play bridge on an empty stomach.

I'll finish the pencils, you find the pads.

Anyway, it's Wednesday.
Friday night's bridge night.

- Who said anything about playing cards?
- (Knocking)

Ah, here they are.
You let them in, I must get my gavel.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Here, Jerry, what's all this about?

I was hoping you might be able to tell me.

No. Margo just said be here at 6:30
and then vanished in a puff of smoke.

Perhaps she's holding a press conference.

I haven't had my dinner yet.

Ah, here we all are.

Tom and Barbara, will you sit there?

Jerry, there, please.

I know what it is. It's a s�ance.

Anybody there?

Blimey, that was quick.

Tom, I am calling the meeting to order.

I have taken the Chair pro tem, but in due time
we shall formally elect a chairwoman.

Now, item 1 on the agenda.

- Yes, Jerry?
- Where's my dinner?

I don't know how you can think of cramming
yourself full of food at a time like this.

At a time like what?

Oh, I'm sorry, I should have told you.

We are here to discuss the house
next to Tom and Barbara.

OK, it's got a yellow front door,
lattice windows...

Tom. It also has a For Sale notice
that went up today.

That's because the Turners are selling it.

I know that. But to whom?

The buyers?

Don't be facetious, please.

The house is up for sale. What's it to do with us?

That is the very point of this committee -
to veto undesirables from living amongst us.

Ah. You mean we should skim off the cream.

Yes, yes. No hawkers, no circulars, and, above
all, nobody who ripples our middle class pond.

That's one way of putting it, yes.

I'm missing my dinner for this.

Damn your dinner, Jerry.
You know what I mean.

But what can we do?
I know who I'd like to live in that house -

a chap who works in the city, comes homes
every evening to a wife called Stephanie

has a black Labrador and 2.5 children,

but we're helpless, aren't we?

We all have pads and pencils, Jerry.

We shall be writing down measures we can take
to preserve our standards.

- I have one.
- The Chair recognises Barbara.

I think we should form an action group.

An action group. Good. And?

And we should smash the estate agent's
windows until they give us the people we want.

I seem to be the only one
who's taking this business seriously.

No, no, no. Not true.
I've got a serious suggestion.

Yes, Tom.

Why don't we all mind our own bloody business?

Well, thank you very much, Tom.

When you've got some loud-mouthed navvy
living next door, you'll wish you'd listened to me.

- Can I have my dinner now?
- No.

Oh, well. Back to the liquid diet.

Who's going to join me in a spot of Geneva gin?

- Please.
- Barbara?

- Mm. Margo, I will if you will.
- Why not. Let's all get drunk.

That's Jerry's answer to everything.

Let's bore Tom and Barbara
with snapshots of our Dutch trip.

- I don't know where they are.
- So much for that.

- (Knocking)
- That's Guy.

Typical student.
Not deigning to knock at the front door.

Don't worry. I won't let him infect the house.

He's probably come for you. Ruth's probably
said she's madly in love with him.

I'm not frightened of a jealous kid, am I?

Oh, hello, Guy. What's up?

I've been thinking.

I had to see you. I know what I'm going to do.

If it's about Ruth,
I've done nothing to encourage her.

Oh, no, I accept the Ruth situation.
She told me about it and I accept it.

- Do you?
- You love your wife. That's obvious.

It's not as though you were some bloke
at university trying to pull my bird.

If you were, I'd probably break your arm
or something.

Now, look, chum, I boxed at school, you know.

- I've got a black belt at karate.
- You said you accepted it.

Oh, I have.

I don't blame Ruth.

How can I?

How can I compete with a giant
social philosophy like yours?

- I am not Bertrand Russell.
- No, you're beyond that.

That's what decided me.

- On what?
- The commune.

Ruth, me - there's a lot of us at college.

We didn't know where we were going
but you've supplied the answer.

A commune. Your way.

- Where?
- In your house.

- Come again?
- Yes.

Ruth, me, David, Peter and Liz certain.
Bill and Rudi, they're probables.

I can get at least three more from the Sorbonne.

- All in my house?
- Yes.

It'll be the new lifestyle.

We'll light a beacon
for people who've lost their way.

- What you really want is a lighthouse.
- Don't joke, Tom.

I'm serious.

What do you say?

- But...

No buts. No. I've already got a commune -
Barbara and me. I call it marriage.

- Just us two, see?
- We're not trying to take anything from you.

We want to add to it, to extend the concept
with you as a sort of patriarch.

Guy, I sink when [ try to walk on water.

Well, we'll just have to adopt our
contingency plan.

You've got one, have you?

At least we'll be near enough to come to you
for advice and guidance.

- How? What are you going to do?
- Buy the house next door.

I can't get over it!

Old Tom as the answer to a maiden's prayer.

I know, it's true.
I found her fondling his pullover the other day.

Yes, but Tom. If it had been me,
I could have understood.

Well, you haven't got a mind
like Leonardo da Vinci.

That's what turned Ruth on in the first place.
Tom's body's just a bonus.

Well, I'd have shown her the door.

Oh, Margo, it's perfectly innocent.

Didn't you ever have a crush on an older man
when you were a girl?

No!

Well, I did have one or two adolescent dreams
about Duncan Sands.

Duncan Sands.

That's a relief.

I don't know why you take these kids
So seriously.

They're only kids.
Perfectly innocent, perfectly harmless.

Tom, what's up?

Oh, nothing much.

Just that Guy and Ruth and half of Nottingham
University are going to start a commune.

Good. Russia is the best place for them.

- A little bit nearer than that, Margo.
- Where?

The house next door.

- What?
- Oh, my God.

Wait a minute. Before we all go three no trumps
and coronaries, let's examine the facts.

Students are always pleading poverty,
aren't they?

How can they afford a house like that?

Well, you've heard of Staffordshire?

- Yes.
- Guy's father seems to own most of it.

Little Guy?
But he never even talks about money.

That's because he despises it.

You can't possibly despise money.

He can. He said, "Tom, at last I see the point
in having three million stinking pounds."

That boy needs psychoanalysis.

He must be stopped.
A commune in The Avenue? It's unthinkable.

Margo, you surprise me.

I would have thought a millionaire
in The Avenue would have made up for it.

There are millionaires and millionaires.

That pop person, Jack Jagger,
now he's a millionaire.

But he's certainly persona non grata with me.

And this Guy, he's a communist.

Why here? That's what I can't understand.

Why doesn't he go and buy the Isle of Wight
or something?

That's the trouble. He wants to be near me.

- He doesn't fancy you as well, does he?
- No, no, no, no, no.

He sees me as his patriarch.

That makes me his matriarch.
No, I won't. I'm too young.

It doesn't bear thinking about?

20 earnest acolytes applauding
every time I milk the goat.

We'll spend all day listening to them
watching us.

They'd be earnest all the time.

With Ruth fondling your pullovers
and begging for a love child.

I couldn't stand it. I'd develop a facial tic.

All right, we're agreed.
Now, what are we going to do about it?

Inform the police.

What are you going to charge them with?
Buying a house?

Perhaps we could get through to Guy's father.

- Or the estate agent.
- A petition, that's what we need.

Who knows anything about an injunction?

Let's itemise our complaints, that might help.

After all, we live here.
We must have some rights.

What am I doing?

I said we should mind our own business.

- This Is our business.
- It is not.

If Bertram Mills and his circus want to move in
next door, it's nothing to do with me.

And if every man jack of them has a guitar
and plays meaningful songs all night,

it's still nothing to do with me.

I'm very sorry, Margo,
I have to practise what I preach.

Wife.

Jerry, what are we going to do?

We could have dinner.

Come on. Good girl.

(Clucks)

- Got her?
- Yes, got it.

- There she is.
- Oh, look, her wattles have all gone baggy.

She's gone broody, you see.

Listen to me. Look at me when I'm talking.

I understand you feeling
all fluffed up and unnecessary,

but don't go broody on top of the dresser. Got it?

Right.

We'll be going now, Barbara.

Ah. Oh, right.

Hang on a minute.

Tom. Guy and Ruth are just going.

OK.

We cleaned up our room. It's just as we found it.

I bet it's not. I bet it's cleaner.

Ah, well ..

Thanks a lot. When they elect me king
of the allotments, it'll all be down to you.

It's been the most marvellous week of my life,
Tom.

I'm glad.

Why did I have to turn traitor?

You really must stop this breast-beating.
You'll bruise yourself.

- What have you done now?
- I've let you both down.

How?

I don't know how to say this.

I'm sorry.
I'm not going to buy the house next door.

Oh, what a shame.

Oh, dear.

I know it's ratting on the ideals you taught me.

Let me say it, Guy. It's because of me.

Or rather you, Tom.

You must know the way I feel about you.

And you, Barbara, must have noticed.
You're so much older than I am.

Not that much.

- No. Wiser, I meant.
- Better.

You see, I couldn't live next door to you
feeling the way I do.

I've got to get away from you completely, Tom.

Don't worry.
A lot of people feel that way about me.

And me. You're seeing me
in my true colours now.

I'm just a boring traditionalist.

I've discovered that I want Ruth
more than I want a commune.

That's the most sensible thing
you've said all week.

Is it? I still don't read you, Tom.

- Perhaps if we sat down and discussed it...
- No, no, no.

Look, go back to university, work hard
and court Ruth.

There's an old-fashioned thing.

Make a nuisance of yourself
until she accepts you.

- That's what I did.
- True.

What have I got to offer her?

A nice personality, good teeth,
three million quid.

And, Ruth, honestly,
he's just a storm in a tea cup.

He's not worth it.

Guy's the one for you, you'll see.

I suppose so.

Well, all the best and keep in touch.

- Tom. Barbara.
- Goodbye.

- Goodbye, Tom.
- Bye, Ruth.

- Thank you.
- Bye, love.

Well, all the best and thanks very much again.

Bye.

Bye. Don't forget to keep in touch now.

- Goodbye.
- Take care. Bye.

Wooh.

Perhaps if I'd done those allotments by myself
I wouldn't feel so tired.

You think Ruth will be all right, do you?

Oh, I should think so. Give her a couple
of months and you'll just be a memory.

Well, I'd have thought a couple of years.

- May I come in?
- Oh, Margo, we've got news.

So have.

Jerry and I are moving to Cobham.

What? Right this minute?

Well, we haven't actually found a property yet,

but when we do find one,
I want you to know, Tom,

that you and your hippy friends
have driven us away from Surbiton.

Oh, come on, Margo,
stop doing your Sarah Bernhardt.

The commune is off.
Our earnest friends changed their minds.

Thank heavens for that.

I never really fancied Cobham.

They've got a chemist in the high street
they call a drug store.

- No!
- They have.

Oh.

Oh, another bit of good news.
I bumped into the estate agent this morning.

- We know who's taking the house next door.
- Oh, really?

Very nice family, apparently.
A banker, isn't he, Barbara?

Oh, yes, yes.

I believe so. And his wife doesn't work
apart from the odd charity dos.

Now, that sounds more like it.

- Two children, both at boarding school.
- Excellent.

Well, I expect you're going to invite them round,
welcome to The Avenue.

What a good idea, yes.

I'll pop a notelet through their letterbox.

You don't happen to know their name, do you?

Yes. Mr and Mrs Aziz Mohammed Ibn Khan.

Az..

Oh, my God. Jerry!

Jerry!

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