Original subtitles

- So, how are you? - Yeah, I'm OK.

- Did you remember my stuff? - Oh, yes.

Two pairs of socks,

two pairs of pants, two T-shirts.

You didn't bring a bag?

No, I was in a hurry.

You called at 8:20 this morning, which, as you may remember

from when you were part of the family, is a busy time.

I ran to your drawers, I shoved everything in my work bag.

Well, now what do I do? Just...

Well, I don't know.

I'll put it back in my bag

and afterwards we'll find a carrier bag.

Your top drawer, by the way, is pitiful.

What's wrong with it?

When was the last time you bought a pair of boxers?

- I don't wear boxers. - Or any underwear?

I haven't worked for a year.

- So 13 months ago. - I can't remember.

You have access to a joint account.

If I saw a payment to Marks and Spencer's for 50 quid,

I'm not gonna hit the roof.

50 quid? Is that how much pants cost now?

No, I'm suggesting you buy several pairs.

Can we change the subject?

What have you said to the kids about me moving out?

Nothing.

- Nothing? - Not as such.

OK, well, what have they said to you?

Well, they...

It just hasn't been mentioned?

I'm not there and they haven't noticed?

If they ask, I say you're somewhere else in the house.

I say you're sleeping

or you're listening to music in the spare room,

you're in the pub.

In the pub? I'm never in the pub.

No, I know, but they like it, I think, the dadness of it.

Jesus.

Wow.

How long do you intend to be gone for?

I don't know.

You don't have to do this. Nobody asked you to leave.

We had a pretty terrible few days.

And it all started with that stupid plaster cast.

Yes.

I thought when you told her about throwing away the cast,

- it crossed a line. - It was funny.

- She laughed. - Yes, she laughed, you laughed.

I was hurt.

I was making a gesture.

Throwing the cast away was the first step

on the long road to marital harmony.

Throwing the cast away when nothing's wrong with your arm

just takes us back to where we were.

You're still a man with severe marital difficulties

and two good arms.

I was trying to prove that I value truth.

Oh, is that why you told Giles and Anna

that there'd been a spot of infidelity

when we bumped into them?

Oh, yes, a spot.

I was minimizing it. Another gesture.

I admit...

I went over the top after that and things got out of hand.

Sorry for some of the things I said.

There were some low blows in there.

Well, inevitable.

It was never your face I wanted to punch.

I'd have thought you'd like to encourage

all body parts below the belt,

not render them unusable.

We should remember that we're talking metaphorically.

I didn't actually do anything to them.

Metaphors to the nuts can hurt just as much as kicks.

- Is that really true? - I don't know.

It's a slippery slope, moving out.

It can be hard to climb back up it.

That's the definition of a slippery slope.

So you're saying you may not be able to climb back up,

that you've have moved out for good?

- Am I? - Well, if you can't

climb back up a slippery slope.

I was just pointing out a linguistic redundancy.

I wasn't announcing the end of the marriage.

- So no slippery slope? - No, just...

normal slope

that I can wander up and down at will.

- No slippage, just exertion. - Well, that's another thing.

You're not as nimble as you once were.

I just needed a few days to think.

- Where do you live, actually? - Why do you need to know?

It's just one of the useful pieces of information

a wife might need,

knowing where her husband lives.

I have my mobile on at all hours in case of emergency.

I'm not worried about how to get hold of you,

I'm worried about what state you're in.

I'm perfectly comfortable.

You're somewhere local that took no effort.

Oh, God.

Oh no, don't tell me you're at Ketamine Kev's.

No. That didn't work out.

- Oh, Tom. - I knew it was a bad idea.

Who could have predicted that?

- So, where are you? - I have a bed

and access to a kettle, and that's all you need to know.

Why won't you tell me?

There isn't enough mystery in our relationship.

Isn't that what they say in all those advice columns?

They're talking about closing the door when you're peeing,

not refusing to tell your long-term partner

where you live.

Listen, what are we gonna say to Kenyon?

I'm surprised you wanna tell her anything.

Thank you. I didn't realize that was an option.

I was being sarcastic, Tom.

Of course we're gonna tell her

you've moved out of the family home

since the last session. Bloody hell.

Can we keep nothing secret from that bloody woman?

Why do we have to do all of our dirty washing

in her launderette?

Besides, I don't want her to think

that she's not getting anywhere with us.

It's needlessly cruel.

She'll live, I'm sure.

- What do you need think about? - What do you mean?

You said you needed a few days to think.

- Oh, yeah. - So, what's on the agenda?

Well, everything, really.

What is everything?

The marriage, the...

The, um...

So, what have you thought about

in the two days you've had so far?

You're putting me on the spot. What have you thought about?

I was asking you.

I'm just pointing out, it's not easy to come up with a list.

I'm not the one who's gone off to think.

I've been thinking a lot about Matthew.

Right, OK.

Yeah. And what do you think about him?

Just that he's a bastard and how much I'd love to kill him.

I've been thinking that over and over again.

- And is that constructive? - Works for me.

- I Googled him. - Oh.

- How do you know his surname? - I saw an email.

So I Googled him and then I went to his Facebook page.

Likes his beer, doesn't he?

- No. - His pies, then.

I was surprised. He didn't seem like your type.

That England shirt he was wearing in his profile picture

looked like it had a football up it.

Well, he isn't fat

and he wouldn't wear an England shirt.

I think...

I think you may have the wrong person.

Matthew's actually quite serious-minded.

I can't see him having an England shirt,

let alone a Facebook page.

Sounds like loads of fun.

Why did you stop...with him?

Because it was a terrible thing to do and it made me unhappy.

And if I don't move back in, will it start up again?

- I shouldn't think so. - Why not?

This is a pointless line of questioning.

- Why? - What are you asking me really?

What do you actually want to know?

I wanna know if you would start up with Matthew

in the event of us splitting up?

But what's the real question?

Just...

Will you start seeing Matthew again

if we stop being married?

You're saying the same thing over and over again.

That's what I want to know. Why wouldn't I wanna know that?

All you need to know is I'm not going to see Matthew again

- if we don't. - God, you're brutal.

How is that brutal? I thought that might be consoling.

You're gonna run off with him the minute I'm out the door

and I'm supposed to find that consoling?

Why would you care if you're gone?

You see, that's the difference between you and me.

I blame your job.

What's my job got to do with it?

God, your job is brutal.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Thompson,

"I know you have cancer but you're 90

"so there's fuck all we can do for you. Goodbye."

Is that honestly what you think I do all day?

God. And you wouldn't know because you never ask.

Because I don't wanna know. It's depressing.

Who wants to look at old people's private parts all day?

It's the most depressing job in the world.

I hardly ever look at their private parts

because that's not normally what's wrong with them.

Anyway, they don't have much bloody use for them

because they shrivel up and they become useless.

It's happening to us, now, as we speak.

You know what the irony is?

It's that I work with old people

and you've spent your life writing about pop music,

thinking about young people, in other words,

their first albums, their gigs, their...drugs,

I don't know, their groupies.

Groupies? Have you read any of my stuff?

I can't see what bloody use it's had.

You're shuffling round the house all day in your bathrobe,

asking me to bring you clean pants.

Come on, make up your mind. Am I eight or 80?

There's room for confusion.

Whatever it is, you're not 44.

You're in the prime of your life and what are you doing with it?

Do you know the real problem with not having sex?

It makes you crabby. I can see that. What else?

It makes you re-evaluate everything.

You live with someone and you have sex with them

and you think, "OK, I'm married to him."

I mean, you don't think that. You don't think at all.

You just get on with it.

But if you take the sex away,

then all I'm doing is sharing a house

with a bloke who moans a lot

and pokes fun at my bedtime reading habits.

I mean, what is he even doing in bed with me?

I'm just encouraging you to branch out.

How many Scandinavian women are there left to kill?

Do you understand what I'm saying?

Sex is the one thing that separates you

from everyone else in my life.

Well, nearly everyone, anyway.

We should go.

- I'm sorry. - Oh, thank you.

Me too.

I just... I didn't realize it was that important to you.

Really?

Look, how about I come back after our therapy session

and we can...

...you know, have a bash, if you want?

I probably didn't say that very well.

No.

When you said, "Have a bash, if you want."

Yes, awful.

Well, I don't want.

Right.

- So, where are we? - I don't know, Tom,

but unless someone makes some kind of effort...

And by someone, I suppose you mean me?