All language subtitles for Capital S01E02 1080p BluRay x264-CASHGAME

- Are you getting these too?
- Every day now.

Everyone in the road.

Detective Inspector Mill.

Here about the postcards.

It's because we're all millionaires.

Our houses. You wouldn't find
a doctor down here before. Or a banker.

Thank you, Mark.

No need to over-elaborate
on the terminology,

we all know you're a clever young man.

There's no reason why this bonus
might not be closer to two million than one.

I buy new, everything top spec.

You know me, Mrs Yount.
My personal guarantee.

But I have met a wonderful lady here.

If you're looking for
the sender of those postcards,

how about someone who comes
here every morning with a grudge?

If I return, I will be killed.

You do know you're not
legally permitted to work, don't you?

- Ms Kwama Lyons.
- What do you want?

Well, why don't we start
with you telling me your real name?

- It's me. Lqbal Rashid.
- What you doing here?

Hope you don't mind me using your laptop.

- Who's the artist?
- It's my grandson.

We could perhaps
treat the tumour with chemotherapy.

No.

Don't you think now might be
the right time to sell up?

- It's too late now.
- No it isn't.

Yes it is. It's too late.

I've gone away for a few days...

Turn that off, Conrad.

...give you a glimpse
of what it's like to be me.

You spoilt, lazy, lame excuse of a man.

Goodness knows
what fresh Alaska awaits.

I'm just hoping my absence
might have made the penny drop,

but I'm not holding my breath.

I am going to have to go, darling.

There appears to have been
some kind of nuclear war.

Roger!

Roger!

Daddy said bad words, Joshy did a poo.

And Father Christmas
brought me an Emperor Zurg.

Hello. I'm Matya.
Can I help you with your bag?

Did you bring presents, Mummy?

Ripped By mstoll

- It's Autobots fighting Decepticons.
- Oh, that's lovely, darling.

- There you go.
- An agency?

On Christmas Day?
You must have been keen.

I had just finished my last job.

I have references.

I'm sure you do.

Conrad, Mummy might like
one of the cakes we made.

Ooh, they look lovely, darling.

Maybe later though, yes? Hmm?

I'm just going to go upstairs
and see my grown-up child.

Oh, hi. You're back.

Didn't hear you over the 1990s.

- Nice break?
- Yes, thank you.

You've met Matya? I've just hired her.

She's, er, my very own Christmas miracle.

Well, haven't you been enterprising?

I hope you weren't too worried
about the boys.

Mind you.
They're very resilient, aren't they, children?

Now. Where to begin?

Roger, I really can't be having...

I think we are looking at
a period of fiscal rectitude.

Fiscal rectitude?

Sounds like
some sort of internal examination.

Roger, you and I both know

your bonus is about to come
bouncing home.

Ah, my bonus. Yes, now, my bonus,

do you know how much
my bonus is this year?

It's not two million. It's not one million.
It's �30,000.

You expect me to believe that, Roger?

Just grow up.

India, darling. Merry Christmas.

How lovely to hear from you.

No, no skiing's off this year,
wrist-slashing tedium.

Just a little cottage in Minchinhampton.
Hardly a holiday.

Shoes off.

Turn around, please.

Feet up.

And the other.

- See you, mate.
- Bye.

Say, "hello" to Daadi.

Why are you crying, little baby?
Babies do need their sleep, Rohinka.

Night, Ammi.

Shahid, are you there?

I've met a dentist with three daughters.

- All of them dentists.
- I've got a dentist, thank you, Ammi.

Nice Jewish chap in Golders Green.

We'll talk some more
when I come to visit next week.

What? Next week?

- What?
- Mum, it's, uh, cold this time of year.

Why don't you try spring, hey?

I think you need me to come and speak
to the police about those abusive postcards

you told me about, Ahmed.

What?

Or will you be leaving
me waiting at Heathrow

at the mercy of muggers and Africans?

9:00 pm. Terminal 5. Wednesday.

Make sure you find out from the travel agent.

What?

What?

What did you tell her
about the postcards for?

- I was making conversation.
- Nice one.

What, do you think I like having her over
criticising my business,

my weight, the way I bring up my kids
and my conduct as a Muslim.

She might have a point there.

It's all right for you.
You're under her radar.

The moment I'm married off to some
embarrassed girl you'll be next in line.

Are you going to denounce
arranged marriage?

Not for you, perhaps.
Only chance you've got with those looks.

Hello.

We're going to get
the Internet material taken down

and we are well on our way
to tracing the owners of the blog.

But that's not the same thing as finding out
who the person or persons responsible are.

And that's where you come in.

The community. The eyes and ears.

The vandalism in the street. The graffiti.
I want you all to be vigilant.

We need you to be vigilant.
Any strange behaviour.

Any detail. Any sound.
However insignificant.

Yes? The gentleman there
with the blue jumper.

When you came into our shop,
you mentioned harassment

as one of the likely charges.

That's just something that happens
in their head, though right?

Like, if I feel harassed by you,
that counts as harassment?

Well, perhaps now isn't the best time
for a discussion

on the etymology of the term, "harassment."

The majority of the people
in this room are here

because they feel upset or distressed
by these things that have happened.

It isn't fair to call it
"something in their heads".

Will there be compensation of some kind?

It's not really my area, I'm afraid.

But are you aware if it has had an effect
on the local housing market?

- The purpose of this meeting...
- That traffic warden.

The African lady.
She had nothing to do with it, then?

Er, no.

No. The campaign had nothing to do
with her, as it turns out.

So why'd you arrest her?

I think we may be straying
away from the subject here.

Erm...

I promise you she had nothing to do
with the postcards.

If she was committing criminal acts
in our road then surely...

She was working illegally

in contravention of her refugee status.

Does that count as a result for you?

Like it's the League Cup,
but it's still a trophy?

There was footage of my children
outside our house posted on that website.

And that's not something
anybody wants to happen,

but if it's any comfort, it doesn't seem
like your children were targeted.

It looks like a coincidence
that they wandered into the film

while the person or persons unknown
were making it.

A coincidence? Oh, I see.

Well, since by your own admission,
you literally don't have a clue

then I fail to see how your explanation
is even remotely reassuring.

You didn't have to say anything.

"Harassment is in the mind."
What's that even supposed to mean?

I was deconstructing
his imperialist mode of discourse.

Yep. I think that landed.

Look, look, you were wasting police time.

I just want them to stop some idiot
sending cards and DVDs in the post.

I don't need you wasting their time.

Did you notice how he called me
"gentleman in the blue jumper,"

to avoid saying "Asian"?
It was hilarious.

It was a waste of time, really.

Were the Kamal family there?

Very nice family. Run the shop.

I didn't recognise anybody at all.

Not a single soul.
Don't you think that's amazing?

I would have recognised people.

I'm not saying you wouldn't have, Mum.

The Kamal family for a start.

So you keep saying.

When you think about it,
this is your house, but is it...

Is it your home any more?

I mean it's bricks and mortar
when it comes down to it, isn't it?

This is where I want to die.

What?

Who's talking about that?

You are. Aren't you?
Isn't that where all this is leading.

Let's not tip-toe round the tulips.

I want to die here,
where I've lived all my life.

And I'm sorry if that's inconvenient.

Am I talking about that, Mum? No, I'm not.

I'm thinking about
where you'd be most comfortable.

I can move your bed downstairs
to my dining room.

I've got a downstairs toilet so...

Well, bully for you.

I'm sorry. That wasn't kind.

Thank you. For all you're doing.

Like what?

You've never been an easy girl to thank.

Like your dad.

Right well, let's not go there now, hey?

Mum. What?

What? Stop stressing about her.

I'll come and see Gran.
I'll give you a night off.

Mum, of course I can look after her.

I've worked in a hospital for two years.

You make some arrangements. Go out.

I don't know where. Anywhere.

Non-negotiable.

See you later.

- Families, eh?
- Yeah.

Fuck 'em, hey?

- What did you say?
- Mine. Yours. Just a trick of biology.

You're, you're saying, fuck my family

Is that what you're saying?
You're disrespecting my family?

This is my Gran we're talking about.

- Goodfellas, right?
- What?

Joe Pesci. You know?

"Saying I'm funny.
How I'm a clown. I amuse you".

- That's what you're doing isn't it?
- That's you all over, isn't it?

Everything always reminds you
of something else.

You wouldn't know real anger
if it come and bit your bollocks off.

I don't get it. Are you, are you angry now?

Yeah. Yeah. That was me being angry.
It's a real emotion.

Sound familiar at all? No?

You just don't feel anything do you?

And until you do,
you will always be my assistant,

secretly thinking that it should be you
in the big chair

and me running around with the coffees.

I can get angry.

My coffee's cold.

Get it yourself.

I think now you're mistaking
anger with petulance.

Just go and get me a coffee. Quick.

Don't trouble me, huh?
I hope you have my flight number.

Will I bring my own bedding this time
or have you replaced those terrible sheets?

We have bought new fitted sheets
and a new duvet.

- Nice and warm.
- Not too warm, I hope.

Oh, you're breaking up.

I saw that.

Don't judge me, Shahid.

I would never
judge you, Rohinka.

Well, if you do I might just point out

that your flat's bigger
and she could stay at yours.

I can't see her sharing a sofa
with Iqbal, can you?

No.

But, it might be good to watch.

Brilliant.

This is brilliant.

- Where will I go?
- Well, there must be someone at the mosque

with a spare room going
who doesn't know what you're like.

That was a joke, by the way.

It can't be helped. It's family. I'm sorry.

Why would your mum stay here
and not with your brother and the kids?

Because, Iqbal, she wants to work on me.

Marriage and all that.

I think she's got somebody in mind.
A dentist from Karachi.

It isn't fair.

She has two sisters,
also dentists, if you're interested.

That isn't what I mean.

I know, Iqbal.

But, if you knew Mamji,
she's like a drone, mate.

And you're what the American infidels
will call, "collateral damage".

Morning.

Just these two.

Thank you.

Oh.

Thank you for keeping the evidence.
I'll be in touch.

It's an escalation, isn't it?

It's more serious than before.
It's terrorism almost.

Well, I'm not sure I'd call getting a dead
animal shoved through your door

terrorism exactly, but...

I can't help thinking
we're the wrong kind of victim.

Can you please start
taking this problem more seriously?

I can only keep saying
that we are doing everything we can.

Which we are.

Ah. Hello, erm...

DI Mill.

Well I'll leave you to it.
Mr Yount. Mrs Yount.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

- What did he want?
- We've had a corpse delivered in the post.

An animal of some kind.

Right. Right. Well,
why don't you tell me about it on the way.

We do need to get a move on.

You can't seriously think I'm still coming?

Completely traumatised.

Oh, Graham.

I didn't mean to disturb you.

Your mother said you'd be here.

Yeah. Mum's gone out.

She's on a large one.

That doesn't sound much like your mum.

Are you all right?

Stupid question, really.

Just tired.

What you listening to on your what's-it,
your hearing aids?

You wouldn't have heard of it, Gran.

I wouldn't be so sure about that.

The builders have their radios
on full blast all day.

You'll be picking up a fair bit
of Polish swear words as well then.

You all right, Gran?

Do you want some water?

All I want is to know you'll be all right.

I know.

Are you?

Are you all right?

Yeah.

Yeah, I am.

Why should I believe that?

How do I know you're not just saying that
to keep a dying old lady happy?

I'll tell you why.

But don't you go telling anybody else.

A secret?

I like that.

You know what? I think it's a terrible idea.

She'll be bored out of her mind.

It'll be a nice change for her.

I've been to those things a thousand times
before, I find them so vulgar.

Matya, on the other hand, is from Hungary.

The nearest she's probably come
to genuine luxury

is the EasyJet departure lounge.

Exactly. She'll be out of her depth.

With your colleagues?

Don't be stupid.

She won't have to talk much,
just sit there looking pretty

and pretending to listen
while they go wanking on

about shooting and the congestion charge.

They'll think she's an escort.

They're bankers.
They'll admire your chutzpah.

If they interrogate you further,
say I'm staying away

as a protest against your tiny bonus.

They should be having a charity
auction for us, quite frankly.

Wow. You look so much better in it than I do.

That, Roger, is your cue
to say something flattering to me.

The next lot is a day's
fly-fishing in Wiltshire.

Chalk stream. Complete with cream tea.

And who will give me �500?

- Is all this just for fishing?
- Five hundred...

- From a river?
- Six? Seven hundred?

You wait, it gets a whole lot more expensive.

Nine.

And it's all for charity.

Well, they are very generous.

No. Just very competitive and ostentatious.

They haven't got a charitable bone
in their body.

You talk as though you hate it.

Gone. For �1,300.

Rog. Rog.

Fuck me. You're a dark horse.

How much did you pay for her?

I'm going to have to change
my escort agency.

If you must know, Arabella's ill.
She's our children's nanny.

So you, uh... Have you bid yet?

I don't think so.

Would you like to?

- I don't have that money.
- No. I do. Go on.

The next lot is a signed
Roger Federer shirt, 2012.

- I'll pay. Go on. Come on.
- Who'll start me?

- No. No.
- Just to see what it feels like.

Come on. You should see
the look on your face.

Eight hundred.
Somebody start me at 800.

- Go on. Go on.
- Eight hundred.

- That's it.
- That's 800 to the lady in the green dress.

Who will give me �900?

Over there. Yes, you.
One thousand?

- Go on. Again. Again.
- One thousand, five hundred.

Go on.

One thousand, six hundred.

Yes. Come on, one more and we'll get it.
One more. Come on.

- One thousand, seven hundred.
- Go on, go on, go on, go on.

One thousand, eight hundred?
One thousand, eight hundred.

One thousand, eight hundred.
Going once. Going twice.

Gone to the lady in the green dress.

Thank you.

Oh, my...

- What'd you say?
- Oh, my God...

Not much of a night? Back this early.

By your standards, perhaps.

God knows how you get up
for work in the morning.

You don't need to worry about me.

Good. 'Cause I haven't got any worry left.

Thanks for looking after her for tonight.

It was nice to see her.

- We had a nice chat, you know.
- No, I don't know.

She only ever talks to me
if she wants to go to the toilet.

It was mainly me, all right?

Don't patronise me.
And stop talking in that accent.

You weren't brought up to talk like that.

How would you know?

You weren't even there.

Well, your Gran wouldn't like it.
How about that.

Does that count?

It's not a competition.

"Palliative care in the community,"
they call it.

- What?
- What we're doing now.

Arguing while Mum dies.

They give it a title so that
it sounds like they're doing something.

But, they're not.

They gave it a title.
That is them doing something.

Can't you just agree with me that it's tough?

What is it all for? In the end?

Look at this place. A lifetime of clutter.

- Is that all there is?
- There's nothing wrong with this place.

Oh, for god's sake! I'm not saying
that there's anything wrong with it!

Twenty Silk Cut, please.

Of course.

How is your mother? How is Mrs Howe?

Erm, she's, um...

Oh, erm, do you do decorating?

Yes. From time to time.

I know that you're a builder.
I'm from number 84.

Do you do painting, papering,
refurbishment, that kind of thing?

When do you want to start doing?

Well, the sooner the better.
As soon as possible.

Thank you. Thanks.

Well, now I feel like I've corrupted you.

Why are you saying that?

Well, because I encouraged you
to bid �2,000 for a sweaty T-shirt.

A sweaty T-shirt worn
by Roger Federer at Wimbledon.

There is a difference.

I think I'll have to put it by my bed
so I can see it before I go to sleep.

Well, of course.

Er, don't, don't do that.

You're still on your night out.
Please. Don't do that now.

Okay.

It's odd, but I've always had a lot
of time for Roger Federer.

Not least because he's the only cool Roger
in the world.

Apart from Roger Moore, that is.

I'm sure he's very much before your time.

Well.

At least now you'll be able
to tell your friends in Hungary, it's true.

The English do have more money than sense.

Why are you always apologising
for what you've got?

Because I'm not sure how I got it.

Because you are clever
and you worked hard.

There's no shame in that.

When I first came into banking,
it was all about relationships.

And now it's...

It's all about maths.

Let's just say I'm better
at the relationships bit.

I left everybody I loved behind in Hungary

just to come here and earn money.

I think I am just the same
as you and Arabella.

Right?

I, I don't think so.

No.

Well, you're wrong.

Time for bed, I think.

Goodnight, Mr... Roger.

Oh, and thank you for a lovely evening.

Oops. Night.

Goodnight, Matya.

My god.

To be young and childless.

Have you come straight from the party?

Sleep is for lightweights, Roger.

I wouldn't do any flash trading
with a hangover if I were you.

How's Matya?

I didn't see her this morning.

Did she have a nice evening?

Yes. Far as I know.

You don't know...

Like she isn't...

Is she seeing anybody at the moment,
do you know?

Oh, Mark.

Dear me.

I know you're an ambitious young man
and full marks for cheek,

but I'm afraid
Matya is rather out of your league.

Dear me. Dear me.

I don't know why
we all have to be here.

Because last time it was just me

and for two months
we never heard the end of it.

Yeah, this time
we'll overwhelm her

with our love and devotion.
She won't know what's hit her.

That doesn't sound like Ammi.

Hey, you're not allowed to criticise her.
You're her golden boy.

Let's have a bet on what she says first.

"Gambling is un-Islamic."

That's better.
I prefer you without a sense of humour.

I'll go first. It will be, "Rohinka,
what are you feeding my fatty son?"

"Are you trying to kill him?"

"The flight was a horror."

"Hello." She'll say, "Hello."

Of course she will, clever girl.

Right. She's here.

Daadi!

All here this time.

I can see that.

And nobody minding the till?

That's a lovely dress you're wearing, Fatima.

Mum let you wear a dress for once.

And Rohinka, what are you feeding my son?

He has no self-control,
you must be his self-control.

What are you feeding him?

Or is he stuffing himself with snack food
because he doesn't like what you cook him?

He looks like a golgappa.

And I don't know
what you're laughing about, huh?

Twenty-five years of age
and no sign of a wife.

Come.

Do you want the kitchen stripping out?

Erm, just make it modern, you know?

We'll get the kit from IKEA.
It'll be basic, but solid, you know.

Something new. That's the main thing.

Paint work, neutral.

"Chalky Down" is very popular.

We, uh...

We can't go in there, I'm afraid.

But, the, uh, bathroom will need
renovating or refitting. It's up to you.

Okay.

If you are having building work,
I can sort out permission.

I know who to talk to
at the council and so on.

Yeah, we might just leave that to the buyer.

Uh, we just need a rough quote
for tarting it up.

Okay. No problem.

Are you all right
to do the other rooms on your own?

I'll, um, I'll be in the kitchen.

Sorry.

I'm getting a few people in.
Other quotes.

Rough figures for now.
I'll have more idea when, erm...

I'm looking for a good job.

Erm, but we're looking to freshen it up a bit
before we put it on the market, to be honest.

Morning, boss.

Oh. Right.

Thanks.

So you've been at it all night?

More or less.

What you trying to say? I mean...

I don't know. You got any ideas?

Well, I mean,
there's this wonderful quote by...

It's cold, mate. Off you Trotsky.

In 2003 I was arrested in Harare,
interrogated and beaten up.

Then I was released.

Then I was arrested and beaten up again.

They told me I had 72 hours
to leave the country.

So I was smuggled out by the missionaries.

Quentina. The judge already knows all this.

It's terrible, but it's not relevant.

I came to England on a student visa.

And he will say, "And did you always intend
to illegally outstay the visa?"

And I will say, "Yes."

"I intended to throw myself
at the mercy of the British state."

And he will say,
"How have you been supporting yourself

"since being refused asylum?"

- I will say, "By working."
- "By working illegally."

Yes.

I wanted to give something back to England.

So instead of collecting
my �43 a week allowance, I worked.

I paid my way.

I don't understand
why your law would discourage that.

That isn't relevant.

He will ignore that
and he will say that you came here

with the intention of staying illegally.

And you did so

on the pretext that you were
fleeing from persecution.

But it wasn't a pretext.

Don't contradict him. It'll piss him off.

He doesn't need to like me.

He does, Quentina. He really does.

In fact, I'd say that's your only chance.

Well, that is a problem.

Because there's only one person I know
who thinks I'm likeable.

Quentina?

Quentina? Where are you?

I don't know why you had to drag me
all the way here from Karachi for these.

They just seem like, um, some foolishness.

I hardly dragged you here, Ammi.

They love it round here.
All that fussing and running around.

It's that great British middle-class battle cry.
"Something must be done."

Especially if it might have an effect
on property prices.

Those are our neighbours and customers
you're talking rubbish about.

I don't know, Ahmed.

This is a rare example
of dear Usman being right about something.

Nobody's going to be marrying him
for his brains, that's for sure.

Will you do me a favour?
Will you ask your mother

to put some sugar in this for me?

I think she's trying to poison me.

I think you should come up now.

I'm starting to think this second wave
of crimes is being done by somebody new.

Somebody separate from the person
who posted the cards.

A copycat?

If you like.

But I hope this is reassuring.

We are closing in on the perpetrator.
Make no mistake.

The, uh, the traffic warden.
The African lady.

You thought that she'd done it,
but she wasn't guilty of anything.

Oh, she was guilty of a lot of things,
but not the postal campaign.

So it works like a curse.

I'm sorry?

Erm, the, uh, the postcards.

Uh, they work like a bad luck charm.

First the traffic warden, then Mum.

Your Mum? Mrs Howe?
Why, what's happened to her?

She died. Didn't I tell you?

No, I don't think you did.

Last night.
Well, early this morning, to be precise.

You don't want to be hearing this stuff now.

She was the last of her kind.

She lived here nearly all her adult life.
She got...

She got married when she was 21
and never left. Can you imagine?

Staying in the same place for over 60 years?

Arms up, please.

Passport, please.

I tried to see a different lawyer
at the Law Centre.

I waited all morning,
but then I had to get back to work.

But she rang me.

She's coming to see you.

Don't rock the boat, Mashinko. Please.

I know you are trying to help,
but you'll make things worse.

- By standing up for you?
- Yes.

By standing up for me.

Now you listen to me, my love.

Of course.

Let me just get my pad to take notes.

This isn't going to help me.
I just need you to listen to me.

I am Quentina Mfeski.

BSc, MSc, Political Science,
the University of Zimbabwe.

I know. You told me you had a degree.

Are you going to let me finish talking?

I like to listen to Mokoomba, Beyonce

and I still love Brenda Fassie.

Why are you telling me this now?

Because I want you to know this about me.

And because when you think of me, I...

I don't want you to think of
just Quentina the traffic warden

or Quentina the detainee.

Because...

Because I don't want you to visit me again.

You feel an obligation
because we went on two dates

and I want to release you
from that obligation.

"Obligation"?

You really don't understand

how lonely I was.

I had the church and the job
and nothing else.

And then I had you and you were kind.

You were kind and lovely.

And I'm here.

Beloved wife of Albert,

proud mother of Mary,

and devoted grandmother of Graham.

I knew Petunia as a regular member
of our congregation.

But, over the last few days,
I feel I have got to know her a little better.

She moved into 84 Pepys Road
over 60 years ago, as a new bride.

And although she saw many changes
over the years,

she remained a well-known
and well-loved member of the community.

Over the last months of her life,

she received, like all of those
on Pepys Road, a series of postcards

on which the sentence,
"We Want What You Have" was written.

Now this campaign,
intended perhaps to intimidate or amuse,

was met by Petunia
with her usual good humour and stoicism.

But, I think the pranksters
who sent these postcards

were saying more than they knew

when they posted the postcards
through Petunia's door.

Because, a life lived with patience,

a life lived with fortitude,

a life lived with humility and good humour,

always a kind word for the neighbours,

always a kind word for newcomers
from whatever race.

Well. I think it's fair
to say, on reflection,

that we should all want
a little of what Petunia had.

I'm sorry for your loss.

Right. Thank you.

You're the artist, right?

What?

Your grandma had your school paintings
all over her wall.

Right, yeah. Right.

When I went to see her about the postcards.

I'm the police officer investigating.

Oh, okay.

How you getting on with that?

Well, it's funny you should ask me that

because, uh, you've solved
a little mystery for me today.

I'm sorry? I have?

You appear on one of the photographs
of your grandmother's house

at the front door.

I was wondering who you were.

Me? Are you sure?

The latest set, for sure.

When were they taken?

I don't know exactly, but they were posted
on the website this week,

so I'm guessing fairly recently.

So why the sudden escalation?

Your guess is as good as mine at this point.

But, we will find out.
Don't worry on that score.

I wasn't.

Oh, er, don't worry.

You look after the boys. It does me good
to do this once in a blue moon.

Thank you.

- Matya.
- Yep?

Uh, you do know don't you,
that if you ever wanted

to bring a friend here, we wouldn't mind?

That's kind. Thank you.

One more.

Friend. Boyfriend. Whatever.

Thank you.
I don't have a boyfriend at the moment.

Right.

The wheels on the bus
go round and round, round and round

Round and round

The wheels on the bus
go round and round, all day long

I hate to interrupt this heart-warming
slash nauseating scene,

but has anyone seen my mobile?

Okay. Here we go.

Bogdan, darling, it's Arabella.

How busy are you at the moment?

Come on, come on. We don't have all day.

Come on. Hurry up.

Bogdan, darling, five seconds.

Literally five seconds. Come in.

Wait in the dining room.

Matya is coming!

Where are... Oh!

Hello.

Where are you?

Oh, I see you!

You are so mine!

You're it!

This was a game.

I know. I'm here to see Mrs Yount.

Joshy didn't do a poo today.

I did.

Oh, mi dispiace, Bogdan,
I'm so sorry, I'm racked with guilt.

Listen, come with me.
Can I show you my little thingies?

I wanted to change the white
to one of those Swedish types.

Two sugars, by the way.

Pardon?

When I'm working here,
I like two sugars in my tea.

Like the British builders.

I don't make tea for workmen.
I look after the children.

It was a joke.

Sorry.

So where you from?

The Ukraine? Czech Republic?

Hungary.

Ah, like the song.

What song?

- Budapest.
- I'm from Kecskemet.

There isn't a song about that.

Your turn to guess.

Oh, I don't need to.

Arrogant. Bad with children. Builder. Polish.

Will you tell Arabella I will call her
with the exact quote?

I'm sure you can tell her yourself.

If that is not beneath
you as a Pole and a man.

Joshua! Conrad!
Wash your hands for food, darlings!

Come on!

No.

No, no, no.

What?

They all stack up in order of delivery.

I know how to stack newspapers, Rohinka.

- Daadijaan.
- Haan?

Here she is, my little gudiya.

Nice sweet tea for Daadijaan. Hmm?

Are those boys' pyjamas you're wearing?

You're funny, Daadijaan.

You shouldn't be up so early.

You won't be top of the class
if you don't get enough sleep.

That's what I'm always telling her.

Well, she doesn't seem
to take much notice of you.

Mmm! Very good, Fatima.

Not perfect, but...

Stay where you are!

Armed police!

On the floor now! Arms behind your head!
Arms behind your head!

Get down!

My wife and kids?
Where are my wife and kids!

What are you doing? What are you doing,
man? Get off! Get off me!

Lay still! Stay where you are!
Show me your hands!

On the floor now!

- Get down on the ground!
- We will not get down.

Will you get down on the ground, Mum!

You should be ashamed of yourself.

You. You. Yes, I'm talking to you.

- Will you just get down, Mum!
- I won't get down.

You will have to shoot me, young man.

- Get down on the ground!
- Mum, will you just get down!

Is that what you're ready to do?
Are you ready to shoot me

and then go home and tell your mother
this is what you did?

- What are you doing?
- Be quiet!

Give me your hand.

I haven't done anything!