All language subtitles for Still Open all Hours s05e07 Christmas Special.eng

Ha!

Oh, Mrs Flowers sends her regards.

Oh, bless her.

Hey, hang on,
do we know a Mrs Flowers?

I don't. You must.

She stopped me in the street.

She said, "You're Granville's boy.

"Tell him Mrs Flowers sends her
regards."

Then she gave me this big wink.

Well, you can take it back, because
I don't know any Mrs Flowers.

That's not what that wink said.

I don't care what the wink said,
the wink must be lying!

Oh, oh!

Oh, yes, go... good morning.

Guess who we've just seen,

mini-skirted up in Cooper Street?

Apparently, you once got your
cufflinks caught in her blouse.

It's stories like that
that can get people into trouble.

Oh, she certainly gave that
impression.

She said you used to keep
her bread rolls warm.

There's no favouritism in this shop.

All my customers are cheated
equally.

No, treated treated equally.

Do you know what's just gone past?

Years of my life
doing this getting-up-early thing.

You don't know what early is.

In my day,
we used to get up so early,

we passed ourselves going to bed.

Half the people my age
will just be going to bed.

Ssh, ssh, ssh, ssh, quiet.

I'm listening to this till.

I'm getting just this hint
of a mellow Christmas spirit.

Huh, uh? Ssh. Let's see.

There you are.

There.

And the notes. There.

Oh, ah!

Maybe it were lying.

Me dad used to lie.

Turns out he wasn't me dad.

Well, didn't your mother know?

I'm not sure,
they didn't talk a lot.

How's your bacon?

Doing very nicely, thank you.
How's yours?

Does that mean it's not all
curled up like yesterday?

Do you mean to say you don't like
our approach to bacon?

We spend hours, me and him,
curling it.

It's a customer service.

I love the way you can lie
without even thinking.

I like me bacon flat.

Well, you're a fuss-pot, then,
aren't you?

What you do, you go home,
you put the frying pan on,

it gets hot, put the bacon in,
the bacon curls, don't it?

We're doing half the work for you,
yeah?

Ready when you are, Granville.

For what?

Leave it with me.
I'll think of something.

And in case you're wondering
where I am,

Mr Newbold is taking me
for some Christmas shopping.

In case you're wondering where I am,

I'm taking Mrs Featherstone
for some Christmas shopping.

We should invite Gastric
for Christmas dinner.

I'll send him something round.

It's not the same.

You'll feel rotten if you leave him
in that house all alone.

I'll fight it.

It could be snowing.

I can see him,
huddled round his little fire,

re-reading his only Christmas card.

Well, it's one more than last year.

How do you know he got one?

Because I sent it to him.
Oh.

From you.

He's got the cake we made,
and he's got central heating,

double glazing,
and he's got his dog.

Oh, that's another thing.
I think we should invite the dog.

They leave hairs in the carpet!

So don't play with Gastric
on the carpet!

Listen to me.

Hm?

Mince pies, you've bought too many.

You can never have too many
when the price is right.

Well, don't think
you can feed them to me.

I'm not spending the next three
months living on old mince pies.

You know those Roman swords,
don't you?

Well, they have that great big knob
on the top.

And this is related to mince pies
how?

Well, they used to unscrew that
knob, right,

and it had a hollow inside
where they used to place

their mince pie, nice and snug,
till after the battle.

I don't think mince pies
had even been invented then.

No, not here, not in Britain, no!

We were too busy running around
half-naked and blue.

Yeah, they painted themselves blue.

I knew that. No, no.

It were the weather, weren't it?

You can wriggle all you like.

Yeah, well, they had to do that
in order to keep warm.

Right...

But the truth is we've got to many.

Right, well, we'll have to think
about selling them as, um...

I know, mistletoe mince pies, eh?

They're not going to fall
for that again.

Getting the people to fall for that
again

is the speciality of the house.

There's your books, you're stamped,
get out of here.

I can't leave you
in the clutches of a Gerald.

He's just some flash in the pan -
here today, gone tomorrow.

We grew up together.

That's how they hide it.

Just...

Go!

You can't keep coming in here.

How did you even get involved
with a Gerald?

People go through entire lives
without even seeing one.

Right behind you is the door.
Use it.

I'll see you after work. Now go.

Yes! Come here!

OK, yes.

Ah, George and Annie Thompson,

50 years married this Christmas, eh?

I'm glad you told him.
I don't think he's noticed.

Ah, she's sulking, ha-ha.

She wants to go to Cleethorpes
for a second honeymoon.

Oh, now you've had some practice,
it could go smoother than the first.

Well, when have we had practice?

My thought exactly.

I don't remember either.

I can't get him away from his
allotment.

Well, you like the broad beans.

Yeah, but he can't be doing much
gardening this time of the year, can he?

Oh, no, I just put some
winter seed in.

If I turn me back,
the birds will have it.

Well.

She'll go on her own.

Very fashionable, you know,

a single-person second honeymoon,
hm!

We've got everything we need
to make this place of yours

look more like Christmas.

Got everything we need to make the
whole street look more like Christmas!

Oh, calm yourself, man.

I need a cup of tea.

I need something
that isn't wrapped in glitter.

And here I am,
glitter free, as nature intended.

Put a bit of whisky in it.

It was in the plan.

Oh, Newbold, you're an old grump.

But there's a cure for that.

No! No, Delphine.

If I didn't have to keep
my options open,

I'd tighten up the slack
in your braces.

You're next.

She's mad at me for
making a suggestion.

Ooh, sounds interesting.

It wasn't.

I had to drag him here.

He needs tidying up for George and
Annie's anniversary party.

You make me sound like I'm 14.

Since when did you pass 12?

I think that's yours.

Or it could be his.

Or-or maybe...

Oh, think of it as a lottery,
try your luck.

What was this suggestion, then?

It's what you and I were talking
about.

Camping, getting back to nature.

Back? You've never been there
in the first place.

You should pay more attention.

I'm an outback person.

A bushman.

And he's the same. It's in our DNA.

Our ancestors were hunter-gatherers.

I thought your dad repaired
bicycles.

Oh, he's talking further back.

He's talking rubbish,
at which he's fluent.

All I said was, "For our next
holiday, why don't we go camping?"

Hey, I should keep quiet,
we're in a female habitat.

He lives in one,
he should be used to it.

I know. And it's going to stop.

That's my New Year's resolution.

Oh, happy New Year!

What's Factor X?

He'll think of something.

Factor X was banned,
you know, by the Puritans,

along with dancing, flirting
and heavy breathing.

Need I say more?

What's in it?
For you, six in a box.

That's six romantic experiences
in a pack.

Do they really have
this stimulating effect?

We have testimonials
from as far afield as Cooper Street.

Oh, Cooper Street's been stimulated
ever since they had double glazing.

However, since it's
the festive season,

I'll take a box. Ah.

I'd better make that two.

Is this one for you, Mr Newbold?

Thank you, Granville,
but my days of excitement are over.

They were never all that strenuous.

In my day, we used to care for
the crease in our trousers.

It rather limited one's options.

You've had days of excitement?

Will you kindly explain
that they were not with me?

Oh, yes, I can vouch for that!

And what about you

and these mischievous little mince
pies, Granville?

How many do you need
before you feel the uplift?

I can't do uplift any more,

no, on account I'm on the last notch
of me money belt.

Oh.

Oh, a bit of physiotherapy'll
soon have you fit for purpose.

Come on, Mr Newbold, Christmas
excitement has only just begun.

Ye gods, there's more?

Now, Granville, there'll always be
a warm mince pie waiting for you.

Oh, heck.

Oh, she'll be back, I know it, oh.

Hee... oh! Sorry.

Mistletoe mince pies?

You're repeating yourself.

You're on the back foot.

You're losing it.

We expect more originality

from the personal grocer
to the fascinating Mrs Flowers.

Oh!

Oh...

Hey, listen, no offence.

Sorry if we've come at a bad time.

Bad news is always worse
at Christmas.

No...

Sorry, no, no, you don't mind me,
it was just...

..it's just a little message
of appreciation that I've found,

you know, rather touching.

Very occasionally...

Very occasionally, you get a
thank-you from a customer that...

Well, I don't know,
makes it all worthwhile.

Excuse us. Ye-yeah.

One minute. Hm-hm.

Short heads together. Hm, yeah.

Hey? I've never seen him like this.

You think he has no finer emotions,
and then...

It's a scam!

I was thinking that.

Where do you come up with
all this stuff?

Without looking embarrassed?

"Dear Mr Arkwright...

"..wishing you as pleasant
a surprise this Christmas

"as your wonderful
mistletoe mince pies

"have given me
and my now very satisfied wife.

"Yours gratefully," etc, etc.

There's no signature.

It's a forgery.

It's one of many received
from customers

who will not be going away this
Christmas

because they'll be having too much
fun at home.

It's your handwriting.

Hm?

Well, yes!

Well, do you know,

I thought myself how similar it was,
yes.

I bet we find your fingerprints
all over it.

Speaking of which,

brings us back to Mrs Flowers.

Watch my lips.

Nobody believes

in your mistletoe mince pies!

All right, please yourself,
but don't come running to me

after Christmas

when you've got a cold north wind

blowing through your new pyjamas...

..and you've got icicles dangling
from every hormone,

because we will be sold out.

Ha!

Oh, heck.

They're getting harder down here.

I hope you're doing better
where you are.

You've got all the believers up
there!

You can't go wrong, eh?

On the other hand,

if you can't duck and dive a bit,
eh?

Yeah?

Tricky, hm.

I wonder how you are coping
with scrupulous honesty.

I need something dramatic to restore
their faith in mistletoe mince pies.

How come Beth's still seeing Gerald?

She's always been with Gerald,
since they were kids.

So she's due a break.

You should leave them alone -
don't break it up.

You're the one who's loopy for him -
why don't you break it up?

Because she's my best friend.

Besides, he never looks at me.

That was before we got you done up.

Look at you now,

you're halfway human.

Cheeky!

I mean it, look at you.

Never seen you in a skirt,
or without a hard hat.

No, and it wouldn't make any
difference.

He's probably scared of you.

How often do you hit him?

I never hit him!

You're always hitting me!

Well, you're born for it.

Gerald's a gentleman.

She's wasting her time on him.

She can't even see
that she comes second to his golf.

Well, what's your handicap?
You at the moment.

You won't even make a try for him.

Is there a choice in
who you fall for?

There's a choice
in how hard you go for it.

He'd laugh at me.

Well, then you'd see much
he's worth.

And he wouldn't laugh at you,
not now.

Look at you, hey?

You look great when you smile,
you've got shape,

you've got legs all the way
to Scunthorpe.

That is not an acceptable description
for someone with a degree in engineering.

That's another thing -
let him see you can afford him.

Shut up.

Oh, you're in a better mood!

Yes, yes, I am.

Because I've come up with a solution
of how to shift

those mistletoe mince pies,

and it's in two words -
George Thompson!

Sorry, I-I'm going to need it
in more than two words,

cos you've already lost me.

All right, listen,

we need to convince people
that our mistletoe mince pies

can put the romance
back in any relationship.

So all we have to do is persuade
George to whisk his wife Annie

off to Cleethorpes
for a second honeymoon,

and then we make people think

that it was due
to our mistletoe mince pies.

There's passion in the pastry,
lust in the crust.

He'll never go for it.

Everybody knows she can't drag him
away from his allotment.

He'll be worried
about his winter seeds.

Yes...

What if we got him a scarecrow?

Hey, you know,
to scare off the birds?

That make sense.

It's not a bad idea.

You'd have to find one pretty quick,
though.

Yeah, you're right.

Oh, I'm sorry if I'm a bit flushed.

I've just had to readjust
Mr Newbold's trimmings.

He told me was going to Mongolia
for Christmas.

Yes, well, I soon put paid to that.

I hope Annie and George
enjoy their party.

Do you think they suspect anything?

They don't know about it.

I've just done her hair,
they haven't a clue!

She looked lovely.

What about him?

Oh, I wouldn't say lovely.

He was asleep.

50 years will do that.

I heard they still have
a very loving relationship.

You still have to sleep.

Yeah, you've still got to ask
yourself,

is he dreaming of his Annie
or his artichokes?

Right, come on.

There's nobody about.

Hey, come on!

Gastric will be bringing George back
from the pub any minute now.

Hurry up.

Are you sure there's nobody about?

Of co... There isn't!

Look, it's a winter's day.

Now come on,
I've got to get back to the shop.

Let's get you into position,
shall we?

If anybody recognises me,
I'll have to leave the area.

Oh, come on, no-one's going to
recognise you, no-one.

Even I don't recognise you.

Now, listen, you're doing great.

You're a... you're a natural!
All right.

Now, don't forget your line.

Yeah, engraved on my memory.

All right, let's hear you say it.

Now? Yes, now.

Oh...

Lighten up, George.
Take Annie to Cleethorpes!

Yes.

Hey-up.

Here they come.

Oh, what is this? That is fantastic!

You'd swear it was real!

It's a work of art, is this.

You wouldn't be surprised, would
you, if you could hear it speak, yeah?

Oh, no, not a bit, I'd believe it.

But, you know, funny thing,

they do say that nature
has a strange way of communicating

with its admirers.

Well, that'd be me, then.

I love this patch of ground.

Lighten up, George.
Take Annie to Cleethorpes.

Did you hear that? Hm?

Hear what, sorry?

Scarecrow, it spoke.

It said,
"Take Annie to Cleethorpes."

It's a personal message, obviously.

I told you, me and nature,
we're like that.

Hang on, it's more like that.

Is that... that like?

Yeah, that's it,
that's me and nature.

So, what can you do
when nature speaks?

Me and our lass,

I guess we're off to Cleethorpes!

That were good.

I tell you what, you were great.

Let's get changed.

Just glad nobody saw me.

Leroy?

Oh!

Uh, no, actually no.

No, Wollstonecraft,

Maximillian Wollstonecraft,
no connection with any Leroy.

Who are you talking to, Leroy?

I told you - weird.

And when the meal is over,

Father Christmas
will toast the happy couple.

Happy couple?

Uh, not you and me this time,
Woburn, dear.

Have you got a beard?

A beard?

We could knock something up,
if you'll pardon the expression.

Why would I need a beard?

Ohh...

You told me to come to the community
hall to help with the decorations.

And look how decorative
you're going to be!

Come on.

Oh, ohh...

Yes!

Ta-da!

Hey, hey, hey, hey. Here we are.

Right.

Where's the happy couple?

Well, you said you wanted it to be
a surprise, didn't you?

Well, surprise, surprise,

he's whisked her off to Cleethorpes
for a second honeymoon!

But I thought she couldn't get him
away.

Well, she couldn't, but it only took
one of my mistletoe mince pies,

Aren't you glad we bought two packs?

These damn mince pies!

What are we going to do
with all this stuff?

Have we been too hasty?

I were wondering that.

We can't waste it.

Let's have a Christmas party!

Oh, look.

Oh, it's been a busy day,

especially that last-minute rush
on mince pies.

I thought our Leroy
was a brilliant scarecrow.

He scared those two birds off!

I expect they'll be back.

Did she really have to be a vegan?

Couldn't he start slowly,
with an agnostic?

I'd better get changed
and back to that party.

Merry Christmas, Madge.

Oh!

You shouldn't do this,
I've told you!

Oh, it's lovely.

Dinner tomorrow, my place.
Bring your dog.

Let's talk strategy.

I'm listening.

When do you reckon is top time
for turning a wife's thoughts

to mistletoe mince pies?

Mid-morning coffee break.

Mid-morning?

Well, they'll be full up by night,
they'll have been scoffing all day.

What about their body clock?
Is mid-morning a good time?

Very good time.
I reckon any time's a good time.

Keep it on!

On?

It's the opposite of off,
you'll get the hang of it.

It's hot, it's hairy.

Yes, I know the feeling,

I was once propositioned
by a man like that. Keep it on.

I want them to notice
when we leave early.

Are we leaving early?

I want them
to see you dragging me away.

I want them to see the Newbold
who cannot be denied!

What?

Me New Year's resolution.

I watch you scuffling around
the house, I'm thinking,

"That woman deserves a break."

I am not going camping.

I'm not talking camping.

I'm talking mid-morning
coffee break.

Of which we do not do.

But we're going to start.

We should do it often.

Make a feature of it.

A gentle interlude
to the rhythm of our days.

Hm. Another New Year's resolution?

It is, and I'm sticking to it.

Mid-morning coffee?

Maybe a biscuit.

Ooh, and a biscuit.

Or... something.

Hm.

So, what did you have in mind?

Nothing! You know me.

Open mind.

You are transparent, Eric.
You're made of glass!

OK.

What do you mean,
you think I'm weird?

It's just someone wishing you
a merry Christmas.

Yeah, and that comes from me
and Maximillian Wollstonecraft.

He's dragging me away!

Once the flame is lit,
you can't reason with them.

Don't forget, Granville,

there's always a warm mince pie
waiting for you.

You're invited for Christmas dinner.

Gastric will be there.

And his dog.

Unless, of course,
you're going to Mrs Flowers'...

That's naughty.

You do know that I don't go anywhere
without me money belt?

So bring your money belt.

All right, but I warn you...

...I'll jingle all the way!

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