All language subtitles for Baby.Reindeer.S01E03.720p.WEBRip.x265.HEVC.10bit.AAC.Hakki

I blocked Martha on Facebook
and then took some time off from the pub.

Maybe in the back of my mind,

I hoped that if I disappeared long enough
she might grow bored,

or I might be able
to forget what happened.

But I still felt her grope
for days afterwards.

The smell of her neck sweat
as she pressed me up against the wall.

And why did I freeze?

Why did I just let it happen?

It didn't feel human.

It never does.

Ooh, you're up late.

Uh, yeah. I... I couldn't sleep.

How was your date Friday?

Oh, not the best.

Look,

I hope you don't feel
like you can't bring people back here

just because you used to date my daughter.

Oh, no. No, it's, uh...
It's not that. It's just, um...

Um...

She ditched me on the way home.

What a scumbag.

Honestly, Donny, you're better off
without someone like that.

I knew I couldn't sit inside
anymore ignoring my problems,

and so I headed round to Teri's,
determined to do something

which felt more reckless
than any of my behavior so far.

I was gonna tell her the truth.

Hello?

All right, mate. Delivery.

Oh, okay. Coming.

What the hell, Tony?

Look, I know I'm not a delivery man,
but I am delivering something.

What?

An apology.

Oh, fuck off, you cheesy prick.

Does that mean I can come up?

You have three minutes.

My name's not Tony.

I knew it. What's your real name?

It's Donny.

Oh, so you can be honest with your stalker
but not with me?

I mean, is anything you told me true?

Your ballsy fucking building job for one.

No.

Why? Why lie?

I don't know. It... it...
I just felt vulnerable, I guess.

It just helped me ease into it,
you know, pretending to be someone else.

Someone, I don't know,

manly.

That's, like, the craziest shit
I've ever heard.

You're fucking sick, you know that?

So go on, where do you work?

- A pub.
Which pub?

You can't even say that.

The Heart in Camden.

What do you do?

I just told you what I did.

Nobody wants to work at a bar.
What's the plan? The big picture?

Where do you wanna be in ten years' time?

A comedian.

Oh, that's good.

I'm sure this is a right laugh.

Is that it?
Doing all of this for a bit of material?

What? No. Teri, I'd never do that.

I don't believe you.
I don't believe anything you say.

And guess what?

Time's up, dickhead.
Get the fuck out my house.

Listen.

Donny! Donny!

Come here. Come say hello
to the cooking group.

There he is!

Have you guys done any cooking whatsoever?

- We're still on the flambé.

Who've you got? Any new recruits?

Oh, yes. This is Beau.

- Beau is a painter by trade.
Hello, Beau.

And this is Sheila. But, oh God, sorry,
I've forgotten what it is you do.

I'm a lawyer.

When I first came to London,
I moved with my then girlfriend, Keeley,

into her mother's home while we tried
to find a place to build a life together.

Nice to meet you.

But an intended stopgap
of two weeks turned into six months,

turned into one year,

turned into her calling me
an emotionless prick and moving out

before I could manage an erection.

So then, in an irony
I couldn't quite believe,

I found myself married to her mother.

Shortly after Keeley moved out,

Liz's eldest son
died in an abseiling accident,

which was about as intense a way
into a new living situation as could be.

Oh my God, I'm... I am so sorry.

No, no, it's fine.

- Are you sure? I mean, I...
Yeah.

Okay. Um...
All right. I... I'll be very quick.

I'll go round this way.

Ooh.

You all right? Good to see you.

For three minutes.

And I do sometimes question
whether the timing of Liz's son's passing

lead her to see me as an extension of him.

Like he left the house one day
and came back a little more Scottish,

a little more neurotic, and, dare I say,

a little better at abseiling.

I got this. Found it in the loft.

- Oh, no, I couldn't.
- He dressed well.

He did. But, honestly, I couldn't.
It wouldn't feel right.

Why don't I leave this with you?
Think it through.

Honestly, Liz,
I absolutely cannot accept this coat.

It was a strange living situation,

to be shacked up with the twice-divorced,
grieving mother of my ex-girlfriend.

But in the end, I really grew to value
her presence in my life.

She had the kind of boundless positivity

reserved only for those fighting
the most unspeakable circumstances.

Therefore, when Keeley found out
about my plans to stay,

she let me, on one condition.

That I never bring chaos
to her mother's door.

I don't know how you do it.
Honestly, I don't.

Do what, hen?

Stay up this late
without so much as a tipple.

I'm better without it.
Crazy enough as it is, me.

My old man used to say

I'm a full-time drunk
without touching a drop.

I know that feeling.

She's good. I like her.

- Top-up?
- I think we should maybe wrap up.

A Diet Coke, please.

You'll be bouncing off the walls
with all that caffeine.

Hopefully.

Might need a bit of help bouncing, mind.

Listen, uh, Liz, I think
maybe we should call it.

I'm... I'm up early, and I need...
I need a decent night's sleep.

I could stay here.

You'd be so welcome.

This is an old lodging house.
Plenty of rooms to spare.

I actually think it's best
if Martha doesn't stay tonight.

Her name's Sheila! Oh my God!

You're supposed to be the sober one.

Sheila, I assume I can trust you
to stay quiet for young Donny here.

Oh, absolutely. I'll bite my lip
if I think of making any noise.

Great. That's settled, then.
I'll pad you out a bed.

Donny, why don't you make Sheila
a nice cup of tea for beddies?

You're to leave here, right now.

No. I'm staying the night.

It'd be rude not to. My new friend Liz
is fastening me up a bed.

She's not your friend,
and you're not fucking staying.

Don't get stuffy with me.

You're lucky I'm still interested

after you pissed off from the pub
and blocked me on Facebook.

I'm not talking about this.
If you continue this bullshit any longer,

I'll call the police.

You wouldn't dare. I'm a lawyer.

I've got certain standards to live up to.

I don't want the police
making waffles out of nothing.

Then leave.
Stay away from this cooking class.

Stay away from Liz,
and stay away from this house.

Is that clear?

Okay. All right.

What's it gonna...

I spent all night panicking,

thinking of the things Martha could do
now she knew where I lived.

She could come over all the time,

hound me in the corridors of my home,

sneak into my bed
in the dead of the night.

And what would happen then?

I should have gone to the police,
but I decided to speak to her first,

tell her that if she ever came
to the house again,

there would be absolutely no going back.

But she never showed.

She knew it was my first shift back.

Was that all it took
to remove her from my life?

One threat about calling the police?

It all just seemed too simple, too easy,

too...

Oh shit!

F...

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I'll get this.

I told you not to come here.

I don't think you have
any say in the matter.

Keeley.

What are you...

- What are you doing here?
- What, at my family home?

- I didn't know you had plans to be down.
- I told my mum not to tell you.

I didn't wanna make a big deal out of it.

But judging by your facial expressions,
probably too late for that.

No, no, I just, um... I just, uh...
How long are you staying for?

As long as I bloody like.
- Yeah, yeah. No, of course.

Yeah, well, this is serious.
Your girlfriend is a psycho.

She keeps contacting me on Facebook.
She will not leave me alone.

I'm starting to worry
I'm gonna bump into her somewhere.

Can you talk to her?

- She's not my girlfriend.
- Who is she, then?

You need to sort this out.

Why me?
I don't have anything to do with this.

Bullshit. You would have done something
to bring this on.

- Here we go. Blame me like you always do.
- Yeah, I do blame you. You love drama.

Anything to take you away
from the stasis that is your own life.

Wow, wow. It's great to see you putting
that psychology postgrad to good use

after all this time.

There was me thinking you were wasting it
working in a flower shop.

If she keeps pestering me,
I'm gonna tell my mum.

And then you'll be out of here
before you can say mates' rates.

Every day now,
Martha would be outside.

This ticking time bomb on my life.

I would leave first thing in the morning,
and she would be there.

I love you, nipple.
Think of me at work today.

Then I would come back,
sometimes as late as 11 or 12 at night,

and she would still be there.

How was your shift, reindeer?
Did you think of me?

I never understood what she got
from it. She never approached me.

She never came to the house again.

She avoided Liz whenever she passed.

It was all catcalls and snatched glimpses,

as she devoted 15, 16-hour days
to a fleeting encounter.

Tell us a joke, funny bones.

Make me smile.

But soon, as time wore on
and the temperature dropped,

I noticed a change in Martha

as she descended into this staring.

Martha.

Are you okay?

It all just came back

to those same feelings of empathy
which got me here.

Jesus Christ, Martha, how long
have you been sitting out here for?

Here. I've got a tissue somewhere.

There.

All right.

Here, let me, um...

You're gonna catch your death
if you sit out here all night.

I'm gonna take you back to yours, okay?

My landlady has a car, and I'll...

I'll drive you.

All right, come on.

Here. Let's go.

Here. Sit down.

Gonna make you a cup of tea.

It's important you heat up
as soon as possible.

Here. It's hot.

Martha, you have to stop
hanging around that bus stop on my road.

Why?

Because you're only there
because my house is 30 yards away.

You live next door to my friend.

Then why are you there
and not next door at your friend's?

Martha, please, don't do this.

My home means a great deal to me,
and I can't afford to be anywhere else.

Fuck.

Oh no. Why are you crying, nipple?

No, I'm not fucking crying.
I just...

What's wrong? Tell me.

You, Martha. You're what's wrong.

What can I do to help though, reindeer?
What... what do you need?

Space.

Space.

Fr... from me?

From us?

Oh, what are you talking about?
There is no us! Fucking hell.

I can say anything to you, can't I,

and you'll just pick and choose
the bits you want to hear.

I mean, look at you,

staring at me like...

Like what?

I mean...

you believe it, don't you?

Martha.

I'm breaking up with you.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh no, please. No, don't.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

Please.

- I'll stop, I'll stop.
- No, don't do that, Martha, okay?

- Don't. Just listen to me, okay? Listen.
- Oh no.

Don't think of this as something you lost.
Think of it as something you gained.

If you stop now

and never contact me again,
it's almost been perfect, hasn't it?

This fairy tale to look back on.

But for it to remain a fairy tale,

you now need to respect
the boundaries of the breakup.

You wouldn't wanna spoil
that fairy-tale ending, would you?

No.

No.

I wouldn't, Frankie.

I won't do nothing

to harm what we had.

Okay, guys. All right, listen up.

Welcome to the semifinals.
You each have five minutes.

The red light will flash
15 seconds before the end,

and if you go over your allotted time,
you will be disqualified.

- Now, Glenda here is your compère.
- Sup, guys?

So any requests, specific introductions,
she's your man.

Right. Good luck, everyone.

I had built this gig up in my head
as the answer to all my problems.

Getting to the final might be enough

to drag me out of the hell
of the past few years.

And with Martha gone, it really felt like
there was nothing in my way.

That was until...

Teri.

Uh...

- What the hell?
- Warm welcome.

No, no, it's just...

I haven't seen you for weeks.

- What are you doing here?
- Coming to see the show.

- You can't be serious.
Deadly.

If anything's gonna give me closure,

it's seeing you fail spectacularly
in front of hundreds of people.

Will 20 do?

And, sorry, these are?

Oh. My friends.

They're here to stop me
sliding into a familiar pattern

of shame-based behavior with horrible men.

Nice to meet you.

Well, if I wasn't nervous before,
I am now.

Good. We're very hard to please.

Come on, bro. I need to open the doors.

Yeah, sorry. I'll... I'll be right up,
okay? I'll be two seconds, yeah?

Sorry, I don't know why I opted to stay.
I'm gonna go too. Enjoy the show.

So, Dad,
if you're watching this...

- Oh, Jesus. Oh, fucking hell. Jesus.
Put on some trousers.

You want an introduction?

Oh yeah. Yeah, yeah. Can you introduce me
as a little bit mad?

It might help set up the audience
for something a little bit different.

Sure. You're on next. Good luck, mate.

- Well done. That was great.
How good was that?

Okay. Now, your next act is mental.

He's been stalking about backstage,
freaking us all out.

That's too much.

So you're gonna have
to lock up your daughters.

Makes me sound like a pervert.

Please welcome to the stage...
- Fuck's sake!

Donny Dunn!
All right, yeah.

Yeah, that's...

Uh, yeah, sorry.
Uh, leave those doors unlocked.

That's... Yep, that's not a joke.

It's just... I'm not after your daughters.
That makes me sound like a... a...

I'm not a pervert.

I've always found that phrase weird.
"Lock up your daughters."

Like they lock up all the women in town,
instead of dealing with the one pervert.

Talk about counterproductive.

I... I assume he's a pervert anyway.
I mean, he could be, like, a... like a...

serial killer or something,
you know, with a

particular penchant for, uh,

young girls.

So, yeah, not after your daughters.
Uh, just wanna make that clear up top.

I'm from Scotland originally,
so it's your pastries I'm after.

Um, I know I don't sound Scottish,

but if you need proof,
just look at the state of me.

I've just turned 16.

All right, good. Yeah.
All right, let's do some jokes.

Donny Dunn.

So three weeks ago,
my girlfriend came up to me,

and she says
she really wants to try tantric sex,

the art of delaying an orgasm.

So I replied, "Hey, I've been going out
with you for five years,

and you haven't come once."

"What more do you want from me?"

Donny Dunn.

Two weeks ago,
my girlfriend came up to me and said,

"I just think
we're not working as lovers."

To which I replied, "Oh, come on."

"That's what you said
about the cousins thing."

Donny Dunn.

Then one week after that,
she came up to me and she said,

"I'm thinking of leaving you."

To which I replied,

"Please. No."

Donny Dunn.

Um...

All right, um, yeah. Let's do some...
Let's do some prop stuff. All right.

Thanks for that. Moving on.

I miss you.

Um, I miss you too, random stranger.

I'm not a random stranger. I'm your ex.

Don't be so cruel.

Who's that girl you were talking about?

Is that Keeley from your Facebook?

Um...

No, it's a little thing
called fiction, actually.

Just so you know,
when you watch Game of Thrones,

those aren't real dragons,
you do realize that?

I don't know why they're all laughing.
You're absolutely shite.

Ooh.

Okay, just to give you
some context, ladies and gentlemen,

this is, uh...

This is Martha, my stalker.
Say hello to Martha.

Don't you dare say that to me!

I'm a paying customer.
How dare you insinuate mixed intentions!

You apologize to me right now.

Uh...

Fucking hell.
Who unlocked the doors to Broadmoor?

You can't call me a stalker.

You're the one
creeping round my house at night.

Peering in through my windows.

Sending me emails begging for my bumhole.

I... I... I genuinely have no idea
what she's talking about.

Yes, you do.

I'll show them.

- He does know what I'm talking about.
- Can we get her out?

- Someone?
- Look. There.

I don't know what that is.

Look, sorry,
can we get her out, please? Yep?

Look, an email.
Anal sex, it says.

There, see? Look. Anal.

Come on, darling. Out we go.
Anal sex, it says.

- Don't you put your hands on me.
Out we go.

You're not allowed to put
your hands on me. Under no circumstances.

No. He's a bumhole lover, this one.

A proper dirty little bumhole lover.

A filthy little two-bit,
barman, bumhole bastard!

Don't touch me!

Can't take my mum anywhere.

Fuck!

Teri. Oh fuck.

Get in. Get in, quick. Quick.

- Was that Martha?
- Yeah.

- That was nuts.
- I know. We need to get out of here.

- I wanna meet her.

- You're not serious?
- I am. I wanna meet her.

No, Teri. That is not a good idea.

It is. Think about it. I'm a therapist.
I can get through to her.

Think about it. She's insane.
There's no getting through to her.

You'll have to come down
the back way with me.

Just do this for me, yeah?

Fine. Loser.

It's kinda comical,
you being scared of a middle-aged woman.

Wait until you hear about my phobia
of massive, abandoned fucking back rooms.

Reindeer?
- Oh shit!

Shit.

Shit!

- Oh my God.
- Fucking hell.

I'm, like, shaking.

Jesus. She's terrifying.

Do you think she saw us?

- I hope not.
- Fucking hell.

Um...

Shall we, uh... Shall
we get a drink, maybe?

I don't know.

I didn't really plan on
being here with you.

Look, just give me
one more chance, please.

Look, it's not about me giving you
another chance. It's just...

I don't really wanna be seen
with the shit comedian from the show.

You can always
sit on the table behind me

and talk to me over your shoulder
if you'd like.

Yeah, you'd love that, wouldn't you?

Oh, Jesus, that gig was brutal.

Yeah. It was going so well too.

I really would have fancied your chances,
had she not interrupted.

- You always know the right thing to say.
- Mm-hmm.

So, what made you stick around?

Seeing you struggle up top.

I just wanted to come on stage,
give you a hug,

and tell you to get a real job.

Also, I saw you changed your profile
on the website, and...

I don't know.

I thought that was maybe worth something.

Do you ever think
that you'd be able to see past what I did?

Mm, no. Probably not.

It'll be the baseline

for every single argument we have
from now on.

I win, essentially, for the rest of time.

Yeah, I think I can live with that.

Who's the skank?

You must be Martha.

I've heard so much about you.

- I've heard fuck all about you.
- All right. Calm down, Martha.

Who's the fucking skank?

Teresa. Her name is Teresa.

Donny, I think Martha's gonna need
a little bit more information than that.

Teri, I get why you're doing this,
but now is not the right time.

Sit down. It's exactly the right time.

- Don't you touch him, bitch!
- Martha.

I swear to God,
you lay another finger on him,

I'm gonna wipe that lip from you,
mark my words.

Seriously. Let's step outside,
Martha, okay?

Honestly, Donny,
I'd ask if you're fucking,

but I don't think you'd stoop so low
as to put your dick somewhere this dirty.

- What do you mean, "dirty"?
- You know what I mean.

Okay, I think we should all
calm down a bit, yeah?

No, not until you tell me

who the foreign tart
with the high cheekbones is,

acting like I've got no right to be here,

when she's got no right
to be in my fucking country!

All right, Martha. Calm down.

Everything all right?
- I've got this.

Is this the company you're keeping?
Druggies and rapists, the lot of 'em.

I swear to God, if I had my way,

I'd sink their boats on the horizon.

You know what?
I'm getting bored of this now.

So, Donny, why don't you just tell her
that you're on a date with me

and she needs to fuck off?!

Whore.

Whore!

Fucking whore!

You're a nasty, nasty little whore!

Martha, come on!
- Fucking skank!

- You fucking ugly bitch!
Martha!

Let go, Martha!

Boots!

Stop, Martha! Calm down!

- Little bitch! The boots!
Someone fucking help!

The boots!

- Look at the boots! Bitch! Whore!
Martha, get up!

You look like a man!

Right, get the fuck out of here, Martha!

The fucking boots bitch!

You're fucking insane!

- That isn't true!
- Shut your fucking mouth and listen to me!

There isn't a fucking parallel world
where I would want you, okay?

So you stay away from me, do you hear?

If you so much as fucking sniff
in my fucking direction,

I will see to your grave.

Do you understand?

Do you fucking understand?!

I understand.

Now get the fuck out of my life.

Out of the fucking way, please.