All language subtitles for Tales.Of.The.Unexpected.S07E15.The.Open.Window.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-HypStu_track3_[eng]

November

in Connecticut.

The last glories of an Indian summer are

about to give way to winter.

A young girl is showing a visitor around

the grounds.

I come to the country to get back

in touch with nature.

The fields, the forests, away from all those

false trappings of civilisation.

Thunder in the mountains, lightning in the black

of midnight.

The wilderness howls and something in me howls

with it.

I'm one with the primal chaos.

Is that Walt Whitman?

You like the country?

I hate the country.

I like poetry.

If you hate the country, then why do

you come here?

Because I have to.

I'm sorry.

This is a bad day.

No, I'm sorry.

Shall I go?

It doesn't matter.

It's going to be a bad day no

matter what.

I might as well have some company.

Well, indoors has its pleasures too.

A crackling fire, a book of verse to

stir the soul, fine brandy to warm the

innards.

Hello.

Ah, civilisation beckons.

Thank you, Vernon.

I wonder if mother's down yet.

It's really cool in here.

Shall I get those windows?

Let them stay open, please.

Oh, excuse me.

I didn't realise.

I thought I heard voices earlier.

How do you do?

Jane didn't tell me that she was expecting

guests.

I came unannounced.

My name is Gregory Sadler.

I'm staying at the Pollocks.

They left me your name and suggested that

I call.

Jane, you should have told me that Mr.

Sadler was here.

Oh, Gregory, please.

Well, the least we could do is offer

you some refreshment.

Vernon took it away almost as soon as

he brought it in.

Show a little respect, young lady.

Vernon goes a long way back in this

family.

Oh, Jane has taken great care to entertain

me.

Jane gets lonely in the country, don't you,

darling?

Well, there's no need to sulk and pout.

My goodness, any smart young lady would give

anything in the world to spend a week

at leisure in this house.

Well, you have no choice in the matter

anyway.

This is a very special day.

You realise that, don't you, Jane?

Yes, Mother.

It's a ritual.

An annual ritual that means a great deal

to me.

Excuse me, my headache is killing me.

I've got to get an aspirin.

You know you're expected to dress for dinner,

Jane.

Yes, Mother.

Nice to have met you, Miss, uh, Gregory.

I'm sure.

She hates me.

Oh, I'm sure that's not true.

What's this ritual she's talking about?

It sounds fascinating.

It's not.

It's something I'd rather not talk about, okay?

Well, I'd much rather talk about you.

Well, tell me more about yourself.

Unless I'm wrong, you're still in school.

No choice.

You don't like it?

Oh, sure.

I love wearing a white blouse and a

blue sweater and a grey flannel skirt to

my knees.

Do you play Obsession?

A uniform?

Your school still has uniforms?

Knee socks and tie shoes.

Right up till graduation.

Do you want to play?

Oh, I don't know that game.

What about Othello?

Okay.

Well, I'm sure you get a very good

education for all that.

I'd much rather travel.

I have friends in Paris and Istanbul.

Really?

Mm.

I'll go see them.

I'll go live there.

I'm not surprised school seems dull given your

cosmopolitan perspective.

Whoops.

I didn't do that very well, did I?

Well, I find ways to amuse myself.

I have friends.

We get together.

Biding my time till I get free.

Look, could we play instead of talking?

Could we talk instead of playing?

Sure.

What about you?

What do you like to do?

Oh, my life wouldn't interest you very much.

Sure, it would.

How old are you?

Thirty-one.

I'm a teacher, or at least I used

to be.

College?

Uh, the last place was rather like your

school, or so it sounds.

Girls' school?

Girls, yes.

So, that's how you know about knee socks.

My subject was English poetry.

She knew the lifelong martyrdom, the weariness, the

pain, of waiting for a man to come,

who ne'er would come again, and so

on and so forth.

It was a long fellow.

I know.

I thought there was something poetic about you,

when you were talking about the wilderness and

wild animals.

I could feel your passion.

What are you drawing?

Never mind.

Oh, come on, show me.

Let me see.

No, not yet.

Why did you leave?

What?

School.

Uh...

A slight misunderstanding.

Hmm?

Nothing, really.

Say, uh, I graduated.

What are you doing here in the country?

I'm spending a very special afternoon with you.

I mean, what are you doing here at

all?

Why are you here at all, not somewhere

else?

Not...

I don't know.

For the very same reason that you are,

I suppose.

You have no idea why I'm here.

Tell me.

Because of her.

Your mother?

Yes.

What's the trouble with her?

Why does she talk to you the way

she does?

She spent all afternoon upstairs.

What's going on here?

What's the matter with everybody?

It's the anniversary.

Your mother and father?

No, not that.

She divorced him years ago.

Why?

He was gentle and poetic.

She said he was weak.

What is today?

Apparently, it's something special in this house, and

I've come at the wrong time.

It's the first day of the hunting season.

My mother's second husband, my stepfather, kept this

house for sporting purposes, or so he said.

I don't understand.

I suppose you may as well know.

It's her secret, not mine.

He loved to hunt.

Grouse, especially.

Every year on the first day of the

hunting season, he set out at the crack

of dawn to shoot birds.

Oh, my mother would kill me.

I won't tell a soul.

I hope to die.

That's not the point.

It was three years ago.

He had a son, Stanley.

Ever since Stanley was a little boy, they

went hunting together.

He adored my stepfather.

Looked just like him.

Acted like him.

They even dressed alike.

That day, my mother and I stood there

and watched them tramp across that field into

those woods.

Chase, our dog, had a special little bell

so they could always tell where he was.

We could hear it as they went.

They had shotguns and enough provisions for the

day.

We didn't expect them home till late afternoon.

They always tried to get the limit.

My mother went upstairs to rest.

I don't remember what I did.

Sometime later, I remember hearing shots.

But I'm not sure.

Then I know I heard a dog howling.

My mother heard it, too.

She came downstairs with a worried look on

her face.

It was already 5.30. They weren't home

yet.

Was there an accident?

We tried to piece it together later on.

Nobody knows for sure.

It happened at the far edge of those

woods.

Maybe my stepfather wanted one more bird.

Maybe he just heard a noise in the

brush.

Or maybe he stumbled.

At any rate, he fired.

There was a cry.

A human cry.

He dropped his gun and he ran.

While standing, dead.

My stepfather knelt down.

Imagine his feelings.

He'd killed his only son.

My mother and I knew there was something

wrong when the men didn't come home on

time.

We sent the gardener out to check, but

nobody could believe it when he came back

weeping 40 minutes later and said that he'd

found Chase whimpering over two dead bodies.

My stepfather had killed himself.

My mother couldn't take it in.

They carried the bodies in canvas sacks right

below that open window.

My mother stood there and didn't see them.

She gazed across the field, into the woods,

sure that they would appear at any moment,

still alive, decked with game, caked with mud,

tramping towards us, crying, Crack the ice!

We're home!

That was their great joke.

Ice for drinks.

Crack the ice!

We're home!

That's a terrible story.

Now you know.

Were you very close to them?

No.

My stepfather was arrogant.

I don't know how my mother could have

married him.

Why did she?

For the money, the position, this house.

My real father cared about people.

He cared about life.

My mother couldn't stand that.

And that's not the worst part.

For the past three years, we've had to

come back to this house for a whole

week.

I've begged her to sell it.

She knows I hate the place.

She knows they're dead.

But on this day, she throws open the

windows at dawn and then goes upstairs to

wait for their headaches.

I think she's waiting for them to come

back.

But that's insane.

Still here, Gregory?

Guests, yeah.

Jane must be particularly captivating today.

Well, she can be very charming when she

tries.

And today is a very special occasion.

You know, Gregory, grouse hunters are a very

dedicated lot.

Some people might even think they're insane, all

that waiting around and so little to show

for it.

But when you marry into a household like

this, you have to learn to cope.

You know, to rise to the occasion and

catch a little of the excitement.

I have.

Jane, of course, has not.

Oh, yes.

My husband, Stuart, and his son, Stanley, love

to hunt.

It's all they ever talk about.

Mad for it, in fact.

They've been out all day now.

But they'll be back soon, coming out of

those woods, across that field, covered with mud

and gore, and grinning from ear to ear.

You'll know it's them when you hear the

dogs' bell, and then you'll hear their great

cry, Crack the ice, we're home!

Thirsty for drinks, you see.

Crack the ice, we're home!

Why don't you stay for dinner?

Oh, no, I couldn't.

The Pollocks were kind enough to leave our

name.

You were nice enough to use it.

The least we can do is look after

you.

We can always find room for another one

for dinner.

Jane!

I see you've made quite a hit with

Jane.

Mother, how can you?

What?

Never mind, I'm in a party mood.

Every now and again I enjoy the company

of men like you, Gregory.

You have a certain air about you.

Stuart and Stanley would be so sorry to

miss you.

You mustn't disappoint them.

The first day of the hunt is such

a thrill.

They come home full of excitement.

They love an audience to regale with their

adventures.

It's settled.

I'll go tell the cook.

What's wrong with her?

What can I do?

She's my mother.

She'd be lost without me.

She's lost already, believe me.

I've got experience in these matters.

I know more than you think.

Leave her before she pulls you down with

her.

What?

Come away with me now, this afternoon.

That's crazy.

Don't be shocked.

It's your only hope.

Seize this chance while you've got it.

I understand what you're going through and I

want to help.

But run away?

I was in a situation just like this.

When I was teaching, I felt cornered, trapped.

The pressure was insane.

Only I didn't have your chance to escape,

so I cracked from the pressure.

You what?

I had a nervous breakdown.

Oh, my God.

It doesn't show because I've had extensive treatment.

That's why I've come to the country to

have a peaceful, quiet place to stay.

When I get out of the...

Well, for the past year, I've been in

an institution.

You mean you're really sick?

I was.

Please, I'm better now.

I tell you this because of what you

told me, so that you'll understand that I

know what you're going through and can help.

It began with these tension headaches.

What I needed was good physical exercise and

I wasn't getting it.

The problem was that I couldn't sleep.

But I'm over that.

What about the headaches?

They're gone.

It was only with all that girlish laughter.

That hubbub.

But I'm afraid my teaching suffered.

That's why I left.

My best girls, seniors, came to me after

class for clarification.

I wasn't being clear.

I had always been known for my utter

clarity and precision.

I don't understand.

Why did this happen?

It's not important.

It's over.

Look, you can see I'm fine.

No signs of strain.

My doctors are proud of me.

You need my help.

I can't run away with you.

I'm too young.

But you said yourself you hate this house.

Your mother's out of her mind.

School has nothing to offer you.

I can teach you so much more.

We'll get away tonight.

I'm sick and tired of this awful country.

This peace and quiet is driving me crazy.

All those trees.

Red and gold.

Awful.

We'll travel.

London, Paris, even Istanbul.

You name it, we'll go there.

Don't even bother to pack.

I'll buy you new clothes.

You'll be safe with me.

You'll be happy with me.

Quick, before your mother comes back, say yes.

I don't know what to say.

I'm very sorry.

I meant it, but I am...

really very sorry.

All set.

What?

Cook says we have plenty to eat.

We'll set another place.

Oh.

Yes.

Dinner.

Dinner?

I've got to go upstairs.

And change.

Well.

You've certainly had a wonderful effect on that

young lady.

That's the first time I've ever heard her

volunteer to go and change without my insistent

complaining.

Really, she provokes me into being such a

shrew.

And I'm not.

Really, I'm not.

You know, I think she's a little infatuated

with you.

Oh, I hadn't considered that.

No, of course you hadn't.

You're an adult, mature.

She's still a child.

Tell me about yourself, Gregory.

Who are you?

Oh, there's nothing much to tell.

Where do you live?

Uh, nowhere really.

Yes, of course, but you must have an

address.

I spent the last year in Switzerland.

Really?

How marvellous skiing.

Oh, no, no, no.

Nothing like that.

I should say resting.

Oh, you lucky man.

I keep saying to my husband, Stuart, we

really must get away for a long, long

vacation together.

Just the two of us.

But unfortunately, he hasn't been able to get

away for the last three years.

Thank you, Vernon.

What did you do before you went abroad,

Gregory?

It's not important.

Don't be shy.

You've piqued my curiosity.

I was a teacher, English, poetry.

She knew the lifelong martyrdom, the weariness, the

pain, and so on and so forth.

Longfellow.

No wonder Jane's infatuated with you.

My first husband was a doctor.

My second husband, her father, was the poetic

type.

All sighs and moony glances.

No time for the basic bedrock of getting

and spending that makes the world go round.

She's never forgiven me for divorcing her father.

Yes, she mentioned something about it.

She said that you had been rather under

a strain.

Did she?

Little witch.

I wish she'd come down.

Of course, I didn't mean that the way

it sounded.

It's perfectly natural for her to love her

father and take a passing fancy to you.

But I need her.

She's growing up too fast.

I respect her true essence.

I couldn't stand that.

Maybe we should change her school.

Or take her out of school altogether.

To run wild?

Absolutely not.

Though a change is possible.

Perhaps her school's too rigid.

What about your school?

Are you going back there?

I don't know.

I couldn't say.

Oh, it's going to be a magnificent sunset.

Dinner after the first day of the hunt

is always such a feast.

With any luck at all, they'll come across

that field absolutely covered in dead birds.

The first time I saw them, I was

in shock, I can tell you.

I thought, what have I married?

My husband looking like some kind of savage

all covered in blood and feathers.

I've got to get out of here.

Of course not, you're staying for dinner.

I can't.

Please, come with me.

But we've been all through that, Gregory.

We're going to have such fun.

Please, I can't handle this by myself.

Listen.

There they are now.

Vernon, come and help.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Good evening, Vernon.

Good evening, Vernon.

At last.

Why, don't you two look a sight.

Gregory, come meet the hunters.

Jane, where's Gregory?

What's the matter with that man?

He was supposed to stay for dinner.

It was Chase, Mother.

I should have warned him.

Gregory was terrified of dogs.

He told me he was walking with a

girl in the country once and they were

attacked by a pack of wild dogs.

He ran, but she got caught.

The dogs ripped her apart.

Gregory loved that girl.

No wonder he was upset.

Did you have a good time?