All language subtitles for Just Good Friends s01e05 I Dont Want To See You Again.eng

? What would you say

? If I told you things
had never changed and...

? We'll find a way

? To take our dreams and rearrange
them?

? Who would believe

? That we could be in love again?

? So let's just pretend

? That you and me can be

? Just good friends ?

(Intercom buzzes)

Don't put any more calls through to me,
please, Penny dear.

'Penny?

'Hello? Anyone there?

'Hello!'

- Hello.
- 'Ah, good. No calls, dear.'

Erm, none that I'm aware of, sir, no.

'No, love, I don't want
any calls put through to me.'

Oh. Oh, I see.

'Is everything all right?
You sound... distant.'

Do I? You're coming through
loud and clear this end, sir.

'No, no... Good grief. For the last week
or so, you haven't been your old self.

'I wondered if anything was wrong.
You're not pregnant, are you?'

No, sir, definitely not pregnant.

'You stick to your job, love.
A career never gave anyone stretch marks.'

Thank you for the advice, sir.
You don't want any more calls through?

'No, I'm going to be rather busy
for the next few hours.'

OK. I'll wake you about three.

Guess what!

You're in love again.

- Isn't it wonderful?
- Wonderful(!)

- Who is it this time? Anyone you know?
- Whatsisname. You know him.

The new guy in Media. Erm, Oliver.
He used to be in home computers.

And it shows.
He's got lots of thrust.

He knows what he wants
and he goes out to get it.

You didn't have to show him what to do?

Bitch! He tried to tell me
he was a bachelor at first.

I thought, "Yes, the only thing
that is Bachelor about you

"is the peas you had at lunchtime."
I mean, you can just tell.

He emptied all my cigarette butts from
the car, refused to let me bite his neck,

even put his socks in my Ali Baba basket
without me having to ask.

Don't get me wrong, Penny. I'd be the last
person to break up a happy marriage.

Well, not unless
it was absolutely necessary.

But his is on the rocks anyway.
His wife understands him.

There's some paperwork here for AJ.

- What?
- Paperwork for AJ.

AJ Styles, remember him?
He's that boring old fart you work for.

Really! You haven't heard
a single word I've said.

(AJ) 'No, but I've heard everything!

Perhaps you'd care to pop in
and see the boring old fart?

'First thing in the morning?'

- You silly...!
- I didn't realise.

What's wrong with you?
You seem to be in a world of your own.

- You're not pregnant?
- No, I'm not!

If I'd been pregnant every time
I forgot to switch the intercom off,

I'd have more children than The Nolans!

If you must know what's wrong,
well, it's Vince.

- Vince?
- That chap I was telling you about.

Oh, the one you were supposed to marry.

Yes, then he discovered
he was allergic to confetti.

Well, what about him?

I'm trying to find a way of telling him,
gently, that I don't want to see him.

I see. Well, whenever I decide to send
a man toddling off home to his wife,

I choose something rather expensive
to wear and when they ask me

how I can afford it on a secretary's
salary, I tell them I do blackmail.

It's never failed yet.

- Vincent isn't the marrying kind.
- Oh, of course.

I want to tell him
it's all over between us,

but I don't want to hurt him.

That should be your last consideration
after the way he treated you.

But if I adopt the same callous attitude,
I lower myself to his standards.

It seems so silly. I can't just say,
"Vincent, I don't wish to see you.

"Sorry, but it's for the best."

- Why don't you just say that to him?
- I can't.

- Why not?
- Cos he hasn't phoned for three weeks.

It's a very casual relationship.

Casual? It sounds positively slack, love.

I see the problem now. How do you finish
with someone who is ignoring you?

And I've got to do it soon
before he forgets I ever existed.

Listen, Elaine, do you think
that I ought to go and see him

and tell him I don't want to see him?

Look, Penny, I don't want to sound
like a prophet of doom,

- but maybe he's met someone else.
- No, I hadn't thought of that.

- Is he the kind who'd two-time you?
- My Vince? Oh, yes.

- Does he mean much to you?
- No! No, of course not.

I've lived without him for five years
and could carry on without him for life.

That much, eh?

Yes. How can I find out
if he has met someone else?

- Ask him.
- He'd lie.

- How do you know?
- He's a liar!

I see. Some time ago, I became
suspicious of a guy I'd been seeing,

so one night I went through his diary.

He'd a date with another girl
the following evening.

- Did you just finish with him?
- No. I stole his money from his wallet.

- Stole his money?
- Every farthing. Credit cards, the lot.

He made a complete arse of himself
in a restaurant.

The new love had to buy the meal
and the magic went from the romance.

- Then I finished with him.
- I wish I could be as nasty as you.

Sorry.

Think nothing of it.

The more I think about it, the more
I think you're wrong. Vince has changed.

If he did have someone else,
he'd have the decency to admit it.

Hmm, that's what Oliver's wife
said about him. Ciao!

(Racing commentary on radio)

Tina? Can I have a word, love?
Don't accept any more bets like this.

What's wrong? It's laid out right
on one of our betting slips.

Yeah, but we have a hard and fast rule -
all bets must be written in English.

- What's that, then?
- A little-known form of ancient Urdu.

Usually on parchment, with a curse.

- It's written in biro.
- Yeah, we know it's written in biro.

What we don't know is what it says.

It could be a reverse forecast
on the Punjabi Derby!

Just keep your eyes open, that's all.

- Can I help you, love?
- Thank you, yes. I'd like to do a bet.

Well, we have been known to accept bets
from time to time.

Yes, of course.

Erm, how does one actually go about
doing a bet?

Well, one would find a betting slip
and pen on the shelf.

Then one fills out the bet
and one brings it to me.

Fine. Thank you very much.

- What did you say this is, Vince?
- Ancient Urdu.

- I thought it was just badly written.
- It is. Badly-written ancient Urdu.

How's them accounts coming, then?

Lovely. My compliments to the chef.

They're not that bad, are they?

These books have got more fiddles
than the London Philharmonic.

(Phone rings)

It's all go, innit, Stan(?)

Friday's always the same.
Rushed off your feet.

Eddie Brown's Turf Accountants.
Oh, hello, Monty.

Hold on. Do you want a �1,000 win treble,
the first three favourites at Uttoxeter?

A grand?! That's too heavy for us, Vince.

No way. Definitely not.

- A grand!
- We'll take it, Monty.

Yeah. See you.

'Ere! Let me ask you something.
Who's in charge here?

Go on, Stan, I ain't heard this one.

You are the assistant manager.
I make the decisions.

Stanley, so far today you have decided
to turn down good business,

give fraud a bad name
and to accept a bet on an elephant race.

You are to bookmaking what Wayne Sleep
is to rugby league. No offence.

None taken.

Do you want responsibility or to delegate?

- You carry on.
- And you dream about your retirement.

- You won't know what to do with yourself.
- Yeah, that's the trouble.

I've always led an active life.

You used to be able to walk, didn't you?

That's right.

Feeling a bit peckish. I don't know
what I'd do without you, Vince.

About 18 months, judging by this mess.

- 'Ere, have a look at this betting slip.
- Is this in Bantu or Cherokee?

Some posh tart has written a bet
and put, "Thank you very much"!

It takes all sorts.

I'll handle this one, Tina.

- Hello, Pen.
- Vincent!

Is this your betting shop?

- Yes, this is where I work, Penelope.
- Oh, I didn't realise!

- You were looking for any old shop?
- Well, yes.

- I didn't know you'd become a gambler.
- Well, I'm more of a flutterer.

I don't know much about horses.
It's the jockeys.

Actually, I don't know much
about the jockeys either.

Just what I was thinking -
these are dogs.

All right. I wanted to talk to you. Look,
it's lunchtime. Shall we have a drink?

I can't. I've got Uttoxeter.

Should you be at work with it?

No, Pen, it's not an ailment.
It's a race course.

Oh, I see.
I was worried for a minute.

Were you?

Isn't there somewhere private to talk?

Hold on.

Come back here. Stan's gone to lunch.

Carry on. This is a businesswoman.

Businesswoman?!
They might think I'm a hooker!

Don't worry. There's loads round here.

Sit yourself down.

- So...
- Sorry?

You wanted to talk.

Yes.
I wondered if everything was all right.

I wondered what you'd been doing lately.
Have you been going out?

Going out? Yes, I've been going out.

Good. Good. Hate to think of you
just sitting there in that flat.

- Who have you been going out with?
- Friends.

- Friends?
- A few drinks with my mates.

Oh. You've just been going on pub crawls.

Pen, my friends are not pub crawlers.

The majority of your mates have spent
most of their lives on all fours!

Did you just come in for a fight?

Do you want a cauliflower ear or has
your mother promised you an Iron Cross?

I came here to find out
why you haven't phoned me.

You expect me to phone you
after our last meeting?

- You made it clear you didn't want me.
- How?

You screamed at me
in a crowded hamburger bar.

You accused me of being everything from
an acid bath murderer to an Argentinian!

You squirted tomato ketchup at me.

- My God, you're so immature.
- I'm immature?

Didn't you wonder
why I was behaving like that?

I was a bit curious.

You told me we were going to dinner
at the National Sporting Club.

- Did I?
- Yes!

That's why I wore a full-length
evening dress and fox-fur cape!

- I wondered about that.
- Did it even cross your mind to ask?

To be honest, no. I had my mind fixed
on that barrage of ketchup.

- I missed you.
- Only because I ducked.

- Pen...
- (Phone rings)

Hold on.

Eddie Brown's Turf Accountants.

Sorry?

No, madam, you've got the wrong place.
Try the garden centre.

That's perfectly all right. My pleasure.

Bye.

- Margaret?
- Margaret?

Who's Margaret?

Stan's wife.
What are you doing with his diary?

Oh... I just picked it up. I...
Mmm, I love the smell of leather.

They sell magazines for people like you.

Now where were we?

Um... I don't know where we were!
It's impossible trying to think in here.

- Can't we go somewhere?
- I'm the only one in the office.

- When, then?
- This evening?

- Fine.
- Good.

- We can all go to this little nightclub.
- Sounds lovely.

All? What do you mean we could all go?
This isn't a firm's beano, is it?

No, Pen, just a couple of friends.
Mike and Rosaline. They're nice people.

- I'll look forward to it. Meet you there?
- No, it's silly taking two cars.

I'll pick you up by that little parade
of shops. 8.30 sharp.

Fine.

- I'll see you there.
- Fine.

Bye!

Bye-bye.

Oh, and, er...

Thank you very much, Miss.

(Laughter)

'Ere you are, darlin'!
Fancy a pancake roll?

(Growl) Wanna go to a party, darlin'?

- Where the hell have you been?
- Sorry. There was a steward's inquiry.

Then I'd to rush home, shower and change.

I have been leered at, propositioned
and almost arrested for soliciting.

- Pen, I haven't even eaten.
- Aww, you poor lamb(!)

- Go on, get in.
- I'm sorry, I...

Get in. I'm just popping into the shop.

Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't introduced you.
Pen, this is Mike and Rosaline.

Hold the crisps, Pen.

- You sure you're all right?
- Yes, honestly, I'm fine.

It's just all the noise and smoke.
I had to have a little walk.

I tell you what, I'll come with you.

Nice.

I wanted us to be alone, just you and me.

- There's something I want to ask you.
- OK.

Is there someone else?

No, just us two, Pen.

No, Vince, I meant
do you have someone else? A girl?

Oh!

Well, besides Jane Fonda, Lulu
and Bananarama, no one.

I'm trying to be serious.

Look, Vince, don't you think it's
about time we started being truthful?

We're... We're not children any more.
Well, at least I'm not.

I'm 26 years of age
and I'm not afraid of the truth.

You're 27!

All right. So I'm 27.

- Vince, look into my eyes.
- What are you trying now - hypnosis?

Vince, please, tell me the truth.

- What is the point? You never believe me.
- Yes, I will. I promise.

Just the truth, please.
Is there someone else?

- No, Pen, there isn't.
- You liar!

See?

You make Hans Christian Anderson
look like a reporter!

Look, Pen, I don't know if I can handle
all this bitterness any more.

I've been trying to prove something to you
and I've failed.

And, yes, it's affecting me!

I'm losing sleep, I lack concentration,
I'm uncertain of myself.

I've tried everything. Psychoanalysis,
meditation, Finnon's salts.

It's not only my life you're affecting.
It's other people, strangers.

- Like who?
- The guy in the hamburger bar.

- What guy?
- The guy sitting directly behind me.

With ketchup on his collar, remember?

- That was your fault.
- Everything's my fault.

At last we've agreed on something!

Stop sucking on that ridiculous plastic
cigarette! It sounds like a blocked drain!

I feel like a blocked drain!

Look, Pen, just tell me something.
What does it matter to you?

We're nothing special to each other.
Just good friends, as you constantly say.

Well, maybe I don't want us to be
just good friends any more.

Thanks(!)
After the money I spent on those tickets.

I didn't mean it that way!

Look, Pen, I don't know
what way you mean anything any more.

And I can't argue on an empty stomach.
I'm going back to feed my face.

Perhaps you'll join me later
when and if you feel better.

I've always enjoyed watching you eat(!)

- Really?
- Helps me come to terms with dieting.

Oh, have you finished now?

For now. Would you like something?
Fruit salad? Cheese and biccies?

Suckling pig?

No, thank you. I eat at the proper time.

How does it feel to be perfect?

It annoys you that I've led a decent life.

What annoys me
is your type are becoming extinct.

There's just you and the Flying Nun.

- Would you like a brandy or shall we go?
- Let's go.

Fine.

No, no... I think I'll have that brandy.

- Two brandies, please.
- Yes, sir.

- Pen, what's wrong with you?
- Can't you tell, Vince?

What?

God, what a zonko!

Vincent, you are the most cretinous,
slow-witted moron I've ever come across.

Don't mince words with me.
Have you got something to say?

Yes. I love you.

Is it that much of a surprise?

Well, it's pleasant, but still a surprise.

Pen...

- Your brandy, sir.
- Thank you.

- Madam.
- Thank you.

- Will that be all, sir?
- Thank you.

- Your bill, sir?
- Thank you.

Thank you.

So you're...
head over heels in love with me, are you?

No, I'm not bloody head over heels
in love with you!

Just a little bit.

Pen...

- I love you as well.
- Liar!

- Don't start that again.
- Why are you seeing another girl?

- I am not!
- Don't deny it. I have proof.

- Is she very special to you?
- Why don't you introduce me to her?

Look -
this fell out of your diary tonight.

They don't make diaries like they used to.

Tomorrow night, somebody called Ann?

Ann?

- Oh, that Ann?
- You rat!

Now hold it, Penny. Let me explain.

Ann is an abbreviation.

Sorry. Should I call her Annabel?

No, Pen. Ann is an abbreviation
of anniversary.

- You've forgotten.
- No.

Which anniversary?

It will be eight years ago tomorrow
that we first met.

Will it?

I've always made a note of that day.
Even the years we weren't together.

I was hoping if things were happier
we could have gone out to celebrate.

Take in a show, make an evening of it.

You see, I thought Ann...

Oh, hell. I've made a complete fool
of myself, haven't I?

- Yes.
- Don't rub it in, Vince, please!

You must have wondered what was
happening - tantrums, jealousy.

You could say that. But I don't understand
why you took the money from my wallet.

Well, I thought you wouldn't
be able to take her to...

Ah. You knew?

Yeah.

- You saw me doing it?
- No, but Mike and Rosaline did.

They said, "Do you realise
that girl mugged you?"

- Don't worry. I made excuses.
- Thank you.

- I told them you were a kleptomaniac.
- You told them what?!

They were going to call the police.

The police?! I wasn't going to steal it!

- I know that, Pen.
- Why didn't you say anything to me?

I didn't see how it was important.

- You really love me?
- No.

Liar.

Thank you for not mentioning the money.
It was very sweet.

Yes. Then again, I couldn't say too much.
After all, it was your money.

- Sorry?
- Didn't I tell you?

That bet you did came up.

You mean you were going to give
that money to me?

- Beginner's luck, eh?
- Yes, it must be.

Do you still fancy going out
tomorrow night to celebrate?

I could phone the theatre from here.

- Why not?
- We could see "Cats".

It would make a nice change
from going to the dogs.

Absolutely.

Oh, Pen...
I've just remembered something.

Not suddenly busy tomorrow night?

No, could you let me have
one of my credit cards back?

- Oh, yes, sorry.
- Your bill, sir.

Em, do you want me to pay for this, Pen?

Oh, no, no, allow me.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Er, good evening.
My name's Vincent Pinner.

Could I speak to Ann, please?

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