Original subtitles

I got it. Oh!

I'm coming.

What the...?

Oh, my...

I can see you! You're Pat!

- And you're the Captain! - Mike.

You look just like your photos!

And that's what you look like.

Hi. I'm Robin.

I think someone needs a change, Michael.

Oh, here.

It's OK. Daddy's here.

You haven't even got any nappies, Daddy.

Oh!

I've got it.

What I'm saying is, you're not ready to be a dad.

Oh!

18th-century, Chinese, hand-painted,

with these lovely, exotic motifs.

I can't stop looking at it.

Me neither.

..this wonderful ormolu base. Mmm.

Well, it's one of our favourite pieces. That not baby.

That fish. He have gills.

If you had to put a number on it...

Oh, at least 9,000...

..if it weren't cracked at the base.

Sadly, that rather puts it in the hundreds.

But I presume you wouldn't want to part

with your favourite piece.

No! No.

So, is it worth a lot?

Oh, well, it's Wedgwood, bone china...

It's not really... Er, sorry.

That's just for the tea.

I meant the vase. Ah, yes.

That's also worthless. How do they get the camera in there?

Well, cameras are very small nowadays.

I imagine they just pop one on the end of a tube and then...

Well, I... I suspect... I suspect...

It's an ultrasound!

Margot had one.

Oh, right. What's that, then?

Well, it's, er...

Er...

I don't know, actually. I wasn't there.

It's sound waves, directed into the womb

to show the shape of the baby in there.

Oh, right, so...

So, like sonar? Yes!

Huh! Oh, I don't know.

Why can't people wait for their child to be born

before they take photographs of it? Hmm?

Oh.

Are congratulations in order?

Mmm. Yeah. Yeah, thanks.

Well, I see why you're looking to sell a few things, then.

Yeah.

Expensive things, kids.

I mean, cots, car seats, buggies, toys...

And they grow out of their shoes every two weeks!

Then, of course, there's childcare costs soon after...

I wish I could give you a more positive appraisal,

I really do,

but your most valuable ceramic is damaged.

The taxidermy is not a genuine Gerrard.

One of your portraits is fire-damaged.

And to say that restoration is shoddy...

Well, I wouldn't say it's that... No, no. Trust me. It's awful.

Shockingly bad.

Criminal.

Anyway, I'll send you a full inventory,

but, honestly, I wouldn't get too excited.

We understand. Thank you for your time.

Oh, good luck with the little one.

OK. Thanks.

Thanks again.

Right. What did he say?

Cots, car seats, buggies, toys...

Maybe my sister will give us some of Nancy's old stuff.

Oh, my gosh, what's the matter?

Oh, no. God, no, Kitty, no. It's, um...

It's the pregnancy. I thought you were happy about the baby.

No, it's... It's a symptom.

Like, um... Like... Like morning sickness.

I just... I keep tearing up over stupid things.

I cried about hair this morning.

What are the other symptoms? Er...

Apart from being overly emotional... I'm forgetful.

I can't concentrate on anything.

Oh, and then there's the food aversions.

What? What's that?

I can't eat things that I used to be able to eat.

Oh, my... It's all right.

It's all a natural part of pregnancy.

I'm...pregnant...

Alison! Thomas.

I'm not going anywhere.

Um... I'm not going anywhere.

I want to be part of the child's life.

I'll stick by you and the wee bairn.

"The wee bairn"?

It's Scottish. It means little baby.

Yeah, I know what it means. I just don't know why you're saying it.

I'm Scottish. What?

Oh, aye.

As Scottish as the bonny heather. Oh.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know

that you and the bairn are the most important thing now.

Nothing else matters.

Thank you. And while I've got you, have you heard anything

from the publishers? I haven't. Sorry.

Not even Random House?

Methuen?

Macmillan?

Pan Macmillan?

Penguin? Faber & Faber?

Oh, give the poor woman a break, Thomas! She wants to help.

Face it, you couldn't even get published in the local rag! Ha!

I can hardly apply for a journalistic post

when I've been dead for 200 years!

Hey, there's a poetry corner, and anyone can submit.

Yeah. It says the deadline is the 12th.

Then I shall submit a masterpiece by the 12th.

What's today?

The 12th.

Fine. Good. Excellent.

"200 words on the theme of home."

Hmm.

Good luck. Hmm.

200 words, eh?

I could fill a book writing about Yorkshire.

Oh, here he goes! The rolling dales, puddings and pies.

And the people...

Well...best folk on Earth.

Any excuse to bang on about Yorkshire.

And why not? God's Own Country, mate.

You lived in Reading! I had to move for the bank.

Exactly! You had to move for employment,

which was all too scarce in the North...

Well, now... ..a fact you conveniently seem to ignore.

It's only cos your lot shut everything down

or sold it to your mates! Oh, yeah, you want a go?

I'll go! Steady, now. Steady.

I'll show you! Steady now!

She's having another baby,

so we can't have the baby stuff. Can you believe that?

Did you say congratulations?

I'll text her.

Could you get me some water? Yeah.

How much are buggies, anyway?

Oh, my...! Look at that. If I didn't already feel sick,

that would make me feel sick.

I sold our last car for less than that.

This is actually starting to worry me now.

I mean, I know we've had our cash flow issues,

but this is...

How can we have all this land and nothing to sell?

Yeah, it's fine,

if you don't mind walking three miles to the local post office.

Oh, well, you would say that, wouldn't you,

with your London shoes and your London hair!

Beats your Carlisle combover! Ooh!

Yeah. Excuse me. I just need to lie down for a bit...

Yeah, I was here first. ..because I'm pregnant.

He's never tried stew and dumplings!

Ghosts can't get pregnant. Trust me.

Well, I am, so...

Blue collar...

Oh!

Thank you.

..Canterbury, or whatever it is!

See? Now that the gatehouse is gone,

if we just move the driveway,

that's a huge plot. You're a genius.

It must be worth loads, and it's got no value to us.

It's just a bit of land. Hmm.

Do you think we can just sell it?

I'll call the solicitor.

Just a bit of land? Oh, no.

It may be worthless to you, Alison,

but may I remind you, you're not the only people

who live on this estate. I didn't...

And I imagine the others will have a thing or two to say

about your plan to carve up

and sell off the only home they have! Hmm!

Home. Home. Home...

Where do I start?

When I roam...

Wheresoe'er I roam...

..nowhere is quite like home.

Rubbish! Excrement!

Thomas! They're selling off the land,

right from under our noses!

They're scheming it as we speak!

Damn their eyes!

My thoughts exactly.

It's just such a broad theme, home.

Home as in home county. Home as in your house.

It's nigh on impossible to know where to begin.

Did you hear me, Thorne?

I said they're selling the land!

The whole stretch, right from the west border to the lane.

Oh, well, is that a good bit?

"Is it a good bit"? I never really go there.

Have you never stood to regard our home

from its farthest corner?

The long grass shimmers in the sunlight

as the wind combs through the fields like gentle waves...

..in a great calm sea of green.

Would you really want our home to be without it? Hmm?

Thomas?

Well, perhaps the others will appreciate the gravity

of this gross betrayal! Hmm!

The long grass shimmers in the sunlight

as the wind combs through the fields

like gentle waves in a great calm sea of green.

Perfect stuff!

Huddersfield Town! Chelsea FC!

Chelsea? Who are they?

Attention, everybody!

I have just heard directly from Alison

that she and Michael are planning to sell the land.

Yes!

To Lord knows who!

Lord Knowswho?

From the west border all the way to the lane. That's right!

Carving up and cashing in on our home!

Who Lord Knowswho?

Sorry, what land is that?

From the west border to the lane.

It's not my favourite bit. Don't really go there.

Oh, er, I go for my morning walk through there.

Well, you still can.

Oh, yes, I suppose you're right.

The afterlife is not bound by freehold agreements.

Good one, Cap! It doesn't concern you

that they're handing over a piece of this historic estate?

Well, they need money for baby.

Robin's right.

And I can tell you that the urge to provide for your baby

is incredibly strong.

It's called nesting.

Isn't that right, Robin?

Oh, I don't know. I suppose.

Well, you're no use!

They'll probably fetch a pretty penny. Good location, you see.

Land is very valuable...down here. Oh!

You think it's all about numbers, do you?

Well, there are some things you can't put a price on, sonny Jim!

A way of life. Playing with a straight bat.

Ah, yes, well, I certainly agree when it comes to values...

Don't side with him!

Congratulations.

Thank you. Thanks.

Boy or girl, do you know?

No, we don't yet. But I don't think we will.

I mean we will, obviously, eventually.

Yeah. We just don't want any spoilers. Yeah. Er... Mm-hm-hm.

Yeah.

If it's a girl, there's St Gilda's.

Excellent secondary down the road.

OK. If it's a boy?

I don't actually know. Hmm.

Anyway, you wanted to talk about a land sale?

Yeah. Well, we... We didn't know how it works,

but, basically, since the gatehouse burnt down,

we've got this whole stretch of land

that we're not doing anything with.

Yes, the loss of the gatehouse does make it all rather...neat.

No, what? That's not...

It was a genuine accident.

Oh, yes, of course.

Anyway, the headline is, yes, you can sell the land.

Great. Yes!

But it's greenbelt land, so it can't be built up.

You wouldn't be able to sell it to a housing developer,

so it does rather limit your options.

Oh, well...what else is there? That's a good question.

Park? Parks don't make that much money.

Jurassic Park did. The park or the film?

Well, the film made loads.

The park would have if the dinosaurs hadn't escaped.

I am not sure that's one of your options.

OK. Yes. Er, OK. What else doesn't need a building?

Um... Cemetery!

Are you kidding?

Go-karting? Could be.

Look, why don't I put you in touch with a land sales agent

and you can take it from there?

OK. Yeah.

All right. Yeah. Lovely.

Plans for the rest of the day? Oh, just going to go...

Go and look at pushchairs and car seats while we're in town.

Oh. Yeah.

Wensleydale! Oh...

Ooh, yes, that is nice, but, hello, what's this coming?

Cheddar, anyone?

Ooh! Ah, that's very good.

Oh!

Yeah. No, I'll admit I do like a bit of cheddar.

Harder. OK.

Ow!

Softer! Sorry!

Oh!

Big Ben! Oh, yes.

Blackpool Tower! Oh, marvellous.

Could you get me a glass of water?

Well, I'm dead, so...

Any time I need anything, you're dead!

Sorry. I am trying to help!

No, I'm sorry. It's not me. It's the hormones.

Oh, my gosh! I felt the baby kick.

Really?

Yes! Captain, come and feel.

Well, I... I...

Quickly! All right.

Can't do any harm, I suppose. Can you feel that?

Yes...?

The Stones!

The Beatles! Agh!

Les Dawson. Jim Davidson! Uhh!

What is this ruckus? I'm trying to work!

Jane Austen!

Emily Bronte! Eh, Thomas?

What?

They've got themselves into something of a territorial dispute

over the merits of North and South.

Thomas is with me. Aren't you, Thomas?

Hardly. I'm Scottish.

What?

No, you're not, are you? I most certainly am.

Balderdash! Haud yer wheesht!

I'm as Scottish as shortbread in a tartan tin, sir!

Now, if you'll excuse me...

Vimto!

I'll take this stuff upstairs.

My goodness! When is it due?

He's been stress-shopping.

Did you want me to take down your poem?

Can you just give me a minute? I just need to sit down.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no. That's fine.

I've a few finishing touches to apply, anyway, so...

It's just that it needs to be submitted online by 5pm...

Five?! Hmm.

No...problem at all.

Not a very problem...

All right. ..to do that.

Ooh.

Whoa!

Right...

Fanny?

I say! Fanny?

Fanny?

St Paul's Cathedral. York Minster.

I don't know what you're doing,

but can you do it somewhere else? I need some quiet.

Oh, totally. Me too. Yes, of course, Alison.

Right. Come along. Let's take this outside. Come on.

Coronation Street. Howard's Way.

Howard's what?

Why is this...?

What are you doing?

Why don't they do stairgates big enough?

Because most people don't live in mansions.

Discrimination!

What have we got in the, um...

..fridge?

Off we go.

If it's a girl, I'm thinking Hope, Destiny,

Glitter or Sparkle.

And if it boy?

Clive. Hmm.

Wait a minute.

If ghosts can have babies, I'd have, like...

..a lot of babies. And I don't, so...

Well, then...

You stay how you die. Hmm.

So I must have been pregnant all along.

I'm just forever pregnant!

So...this...

..for ever?

Looks like it. Yeah.

Yeah, no, I can't help you with that.

I give you seat, I rub your feet, but that's it!

I'm a lone wolf.

I got to follow my own path, baby.

It's just you and me now, Rainbow.

Ah, Fanny!

What a surprise.

I see you've come to bask in the majesty

of your treasured estate.

Something like that.

Yes, it is lovely. Makes you think.

What does it make you think, specifically?

Well, it's changed over the years.

Yes. But how?

If you were to put it into words?

Oh, I don't know!

Fred Trueman! David Gower! Yorkshire pudding! Cornish pasties!

Eccles cake! Chelsea buns! Oh, this is making me hungry.

Fish and chips!

As if you southern softies... I'm not giving you them,

you northern monkey! Now, then. Now, then. Then, now. Now, then. Now!

I have sampled the finest cod from Whitby

and a particularly memorable place on Brighton beach,

where I had a haddock.

So you're both right.

Hmm.

Why spend all this energy on your differences, hmm?

To what end?

Now, I want to tell you about a chap in my regiment.

Name of Dixon.

He was from Salford.

Transferred to us just before war broke out.

Yes, he was different,

but he was just as prepared to fight as the rest of the boys,

and they treated him no differently.

North and South, we all stood shoulder to shoulder

in the face of a common enemy.

Now, was it Salford or...Salisbury?

No, actually, it was Salisbury.

Bu-bu-bu-bu...! No, no, but the point still stands.

Why focus on what divides us

when the fact is, we have the most important thing of all in common -

we are all British.

What is British?

It's the soil we stand on, man!

Our history.

These British Isles.

Well, it wasn't always an island, for a start.

I mean...I walked here.

You know, when I first come here,

we didn't even have names for places.

We have no map.

No-one draw line on a picture and say,

"This my bit, that your bit."

No-one said, "Oh, this is the king. They're in charge."

Or, "This is my flag. It's better than your flag."

These are all just...

..stories we tell...

..when really...

...it all just...man...

..another man.

My goodness, Robin.

Wow. Certainly makes a good point. Yes.

Why should we fight each other

when we're just people, in the end?

Even the Germans.

Yeah. Although if other tribe come too close,

we stab them with spears.

Oh, flipping heck. Oh, that's lovely.

Now that I think about it, Julian,

I love me Watney's.

And that were brewed in London.

So, fair play.

And I had some pretty good times up in the North. Oh!

Grouse shooting on the moors. Ho-ho!

Lovely birds up there.

And the grouse weren't bad either!

Ha! Ha-ha!

Ah, yes, of course.

The trees, they're...beautiful, aren't they?

Aren't they? Yes.

I used to walk Dante along there.

Hmm. How about the gate?

Its ironwork?

Yes. Jenkins polished it every Sunday.

Or the walled garden, with its flowers and statues?

And, I mean, the house itself!

The way it stands there!

You must have so much to say about it all, this home.

Do you know?

I'm not sure those things really do add up to a home at all.

All of my memories are about the people.

George, Dante...

And, of course, my new family.

Flowers die, the trees fall.

The house can change brick by brick

until nothing of the original remains.

Everything changes.

So, home is not the walls or the gardens.

Home is the souls within those walls.

..within those walls.

Home is the memories

made on this spot.

Home is not a place.

Home is a feeling.

Wow, Thomas.

I think that's your best poem yet.

One more revision?

We need to get this away in the next minute.

It's just a couple of words.

I just had a call from that sales agent. Yeah?

Golf. He says there's a golf consortium who've been looking

in this area for somewhere to build a golf course,

and he thinks our land could be the answer.

Yes! It could be great.

Yeah, well, let's see what they say.

By the way, baby name-wise, we need to make a decision for this form.

Hmm? For a Junior ISA. Did you have a favourite?

I mean, if we put something gender-neutral,

we could get the paperwork done.

Are you...? I'll just put Billy. Yeah.

And then if they don't like it when they're older,

they can just change it, can't they?

Mike, we're not naming our baby now for the sake of a form.

It's not just a form. It's for a university fund.

Mike, we're not giving birth to an undergraduate.

It is currently the size of a Brussels sprout.

Yeah, but, we...

Mike... Mike, I know you're worried about being a good dad,

and I love you for that.

But you're not a dad yet.

You're a husband to a pregnant wife.

And if you really want to show how much you care,

you can stop planning our Brussels sprout's higher education

and plan our dinner.

OK. Yeah? What do you want to eat? Nothing with Brussels sprouts.

We don't have any Brussels sprouts. Good.

Is mine the size of a Brussels sprout?

Your what? My baby.

Your what? I'm pregnant, Alison.

I've got all the symptoms you mentioned.

I get emotional at the tiniest things.

Talk about food aversions!

I haven't eaten a thing for ages.

I even get sore boobs, like you said the other day.

Oh, Kitty, I think... Robin said that ghosts can't get pregnant,

so I must have been pregnant before I died.

Kitty... Just promise me that if yours is a girl, you won't name it

Sparkle, Destiny or Destiny Diamonds,

because those are taken.

OK, Kitty, I don't... I don't think you're pregnant.

I'm sorry.

You're emotional because you're an emotional person,

and you haven't eaten because...you can't.

And your boobs probably hurt

because you've been wearing a corset for nearly 300 years.

Well, those might be coincidences.

Yeah. OK. Well, OK.

Who...? Who would the father be?

Um...

Because we did talk about this. You remember?

To get pregnant, you need to...

What?

And everyone who has children has done that?

Hmm...mostly.

You all right? Yes, thank you.

It got published!

"Home is the memories made on this spot.

"Home is not a place.

"Home is a feeling."

I must admit, I'm surprised.

"By Stephanie Button"!

Credit where it's due.

Beautiful, Fanny. Thank you.

You should do more. Oh, no, not for me.

Right. Come along. Time for drama club.

Yes! Yes, today, stage combat!

You can sell the land, Alison,

with my blessing.

It'll still be home.

Thank you. Come along, Fanny. Looks like it might become a golf course.

Oh!

Golf? Invented in Scotland. What?

The best courses are in Kent.

- Birkdale. Hoylake. - Royal St George's.

Now, steady on, steady, steady...