All language subtitles for All.the.Little.Animals.1998.DVDRip.XviD-SAPHiRE

Man:
It's funny...

I can see my old self
quite clearly.

Remembering how I felt

is much, much harder.

Sometimes feelings
come back to me

when I'm digging.

or in a dream.

But mostly, he's gone.

That earlier me...

could hardly
do anything,

even think anything.

I mean, I could--

I could read a bit.

And I could write a bit.

I could talk...

but hardly ever did.

That was it, really.

Everything began
on that day.

That was the morning I woke up
after my fox dream

and knew deep down
that The Fat had killed my mother.

I don't mean that
he'd murdered her or anything,

but he killed her
just the same.

He shouted her
to death.

I used to hear him shouting
when I was in bed at night.

When my mother married
The Fat, she was pretty. Beautiful, really.

But afterward,
she got thinner and thinner

until she just died.

He killed her
all right.

Hello.

Good morning, Peter.

Hello. Peter!

Hello, Peter.

Hmm?

You're beautiful,

little mouse.

Here we go.

Magic.

Aye.

Eat some crumbs.

Here you go.
You're magic.

Are you?
Are you magic?

If you're magic, you could make
wished come true, couldn't you?

I know what
I would wish for.

I would wish that I lived
in a magic kingdom.

You could be king
and I'll be son of...

God.

Like that?
Would you?

Man #2:
You out back, Bobby?

Bobby had a little King.

King was white as snow.

Everywhere
that Bobby went,

King would surely go.

We're in good shape, are we?
For Mommy's funeral?

I got your suit.

He said I was to hang around
while you got changed.

Got a ton of jobs to do
as well, before we go.

Are you coming?

You hardly knew
my mother.

Here, look.

Got you these.

Might cheer you up a bit,
later on.

Thanks, Dean.

Man:
Move, boy, go on.

Priest: For as much
as it has pleased Almighty God,

in His great mercy,
to take unto Himself

the soul of our dear sister
here departed,

we therefore commit
her body to the ground,

earth to earth, ashes to ashes,
dust to dust,

in the sure and certain hope
of resurrection

to eternal life, through our Lord,
Jesus Christ.

Amen.

( giggling )

Go on, Bobby,
open it.

Go on, go on.

Happy birthday, darling.

Happy birthday.

Bobby:
My mom met The Fat

at a time when she was
very worried about the store.

Business was bad, but then she gave
The Fat an important job there,

and after that,
things got a lot better again.

We used to go there about once a week
and visit all the departments.

I'd say hello to everybody
and they'd smile and say hello back.

I saw the store that day,
from the car.

I saw the name PLATTS
in big red letters above the door.

My mother's name.

My name.

Our store.

The most important thing about me
is that when I was little,

I was knocked down
by a car.

l hurt my head badly.

I haven't really been well
ever since.

( door opens )

( door closes )

Aye,
get up, Bobby.

My God, look at the state.
Come on.

Sorry, Bobby.
He wants to see you now, in the study.

My God.

You look like my granny
in a coma.

Here, blue one
will get you going.

Come on.

Now, come on!

Wake up.
Move!

Come in.

Bobby.

How are you?

The funeral
was quite lovely, I thought.

It might interest you
to know

that I have been giving
some thought to the future.

Your future.

I want to see Dr. Forrest.

I don't like Dr. Clarke.

Bobby doesn't like Dr. Clarke?

He'll make me
take pills.

Does this mean Bobby
likes Dr. Forrest?

He doesn't make me take pills.
He talks to me.

Therapy?

Hmm.
That's a joke.

Look at you.

Years of talk
and no improvement whatsoever.

Poor, poor Bobby.

What's the matter?

( knocking )

Lights out.
Come in.

I just want
to say, Bobby,

how sorry I am
about your mother.

She'll be missed.
She really will.

Thank you.

Stuart, as you're here,
would you mind

witnessing Bobby's signature
on these documents?

- Yes, fine.
- Please, sit.

Now, Bobby,
can you pay attention?

I need your signature
on these documents,

where I've indicated.

Stuart will witness.

No.

What do you mean, "no"?

No.

No.

No signing.

My mother said never ever--
no signing-- before she died.

- She said that.
- This is nothing to concern you.

These are legal matters

relating to your welfare.

I thought that you were
in my sole care?

She said no.

Look,
your signature

means that you
will be taken care of.

That's all.

No, she said not to.
She made me promise.

Ahem.

Look, em--

Surely he doesn't have
to do this today.

The funeral,
and so on.

Which means it can wait
for a couple of days.

I suppose
it will have to.

I'll see you
in the morning.

Bobby, come here.
Sit down.

And what was all that about,
"Bobby Booby"?

It seems I've got your mother
to thank for this nonsense--

a sort of parting gesture.

You think these are something
to do with the store, don't you?

What if they are?

What use would the store
be to you?

Let me spell it out for you.

If you sign these papers, the right thing
will be you living here with me.

Just as you have been doing.

Then again,
for someone like you,

other arrangements
might be called for.

I don't--
I don't understand.

Oh, Bobby,

you are not so subnormal
that you don't know

there are certain
special hospitals

where people
like you can go

when you're too ill
to be managed at home.

I'm not ill.

You can't send me to a hospital
if I'm not ill.

I think I can.

With Dr. Clarke's help,
I certainly can.

They'll take you.

And they'll keep you...

forever.

Think of it.

You'll rot there
with all the other loonies,

until you're an old,
old man.

- You can't.
- Yes, I can.

But I won't have to
if you're sensible.

All you need do is sign
and it's "home sweet home."

I'll give you some time
to think it over.

Tomorrow afternoon,
precisely 4:00,

I will pick up
the phone

to Dr. Clarke.

I will tell him
your mother's death

has been a terrible
setback for you.

And in your present state,

I can't cope
with you at home.

What happens after that,
I shall leave you to work out for yourself.

I can assure you...

that if your poor mother
were here now,

she would be
on her knees.

On her knees,

begging you to sign the store
over to me.

You can go now.

Not the howling.

I hate the howling.

Get up.

Get up
and get out of here now.

Peter! Peter!

Peter?

Peter!
Where are you?

Peter! Peter!

( whispering )
Peter?

What's the matter, Bobby?

Nothing.

Just looking
for something.

You mean, Peter?

Where is he?

I want him.

He's in a safe place.

You see, I've always known
about Peter.

Give me my mouse.
I want my mouse.

I've had a little talk
with him.

Peter really needs
your signature.

On those papers.

He understands that otherwise,
you'll never see him again.

I can't.

I promised her.

It's Dr. Clarke for you.

Tomorrow.

4:00.

And this is all your fault.

I never wanted any of this
to happen.

( floor squeaking )

Bobby: I left by the back gate
where the rubbish lorry

comes to collect
the rubbish.

Nobody noticed me.
It couldn't have been easier.

I stopped to bury Peter
under one of the trees

by the side
of the road.

After that, I wanted
to sit down on the grass to rest,

but I was afraid
of The Fat.

I was afraid he would send
policemen to take me back.

So I just kept going on and on
through the day.

Then I walked and walked
as fast as I could

until the houses got fewer
and there were more trees.

First it was fun

because I had been
kept indoors for so long,

but then I started
to get tired.

Woman:
Look, that guy's in trouble.

Hey, you all right?
Are you ill?

No, I'm just tired.

Hungry.

Are you trying
to get somewhere?

- Yeah, Cornwall.
- Right, hitching.

Walking.

To Cornwall?
You must be joking.

No.

Yeah, Eve's all right, Des,
get him in.

Well, come with us
in the van.

- That's Jim, the dog.
- Hello.

- He's friendly, just pet him.
- Hi, doggy.

Des: We're happy to give you a lift.
We're travelers.

My name's Des,
what's yours?

I'm Bobby.

Des: Okay, this is Glastonbury.
We turn off here for Avalon.

You'll easily get a ride
from here.

- Bobby: Right.
- ( Jim barks )

- Thanks for the lift.
- Yeah.

- See ya. Good luck.
- Cheers, mate.

Bye, doggy.

Bobby:
Excuse me, are you going to Cornwall?

No, sorry mate.
I'm going the other way.

Excuse me,
are you going to Cornwall?

No, London, mate.

You going
to Cornwall?

Yeah, no problem.
Hop in.

Man:
You're lucky, I was just leaving.

Where's all your gear, then?

I don't need any things

'cause I'm going
to stay with my grandpa.

Well, I finish at Truro.

You said you were
going to Cornwall.

Truro is in Cornwall.

You got any money?

Yeah, some.

You can get us something to eat
and a cup of tea at the next services.

We won't be stopping
after that.

The truck has to be back
in the yard by 7:00.

Bobby:
Is that a rabbit's foot?

We in Cornwall yet?

Surprise, surprise,
awake at last.

You were no damn use
as company.

Out cold the whole way.

Look, it's a fox.

Look at that,
will you?

Watch me
get the bugger.

What are you doing?
No! Stop it!

Get off! Get off!
Get off me!

Get off me.
You'll get us both killed.

Jesus, hold on.

Oh my God!

Oh shit!

( man moans weakly )

Man #2: No.

Leave him alone.

What's that
you've got there?

It's a rabbit.
It's dead.

You're supposed to help people
when there has been an accident.

It's no use.
He's beyond help.

Anyway, you only help
good people.

He's not good.
He killed this rabbit.

Yeah, I saw it.
I was with him when he did it.

No, it was a fox.
I saw a fox.

No, the fox ran clear.

This is the poor little rabbit
that got in the way.

Look.
Told you.

He's like the rabbit now.

Dead.

Dead.

You're supposed
to bury dead people.

His own kind
can do that.

I have other work.

How old are you, boy?

- I'm 24.
- 24?

Not yet 18
I shouldn't wonder.

No, I'm 24.

It's not fair, everybody always thinks
I'm younger, but I'm a man.

Just feel like a boy.

Why did you
bury the rabbit?

'Cause it was dead, boy.

Because I wanted to.

When a creature is killed,
I return it to the earth.

I consider it
my work.

Your work?

Rabbits are generally
thought to be

pleasing animal.

Whereas, rats, for example,
are generally detested.

Both are living creatures
of equal value

in nature's scheme.

When they're dead,
they should be buried.

And you're supposed
to bury dead people.

People?
People are of no value at all

as far as I'm concerned.

Besides, they can bury each other.
The animals need help.

All the men kill them.

I bury them.

I bury rabbits, rats,
mice and birds.

And frogs, hedgehogs,
even snails.

Where do you find
so many things to bury?

Where do you think?

On the roads, boy.
On the bloody roads.

The car is a killing machine,
pure and simple.

I've buried so many.

Well, you must know.

You must have been in cars
and felt that little bump,

that faint crunch
under the wheels.

Surely you've had
that moment of indecision

when some little live creature
shows up in your headlight,

but you drive over anyway
and forget about it.

Don't you scream
blue murder

every time the body of a bird hits
the precious paintwork of your car?

How many have you killed, boy?
And why?

- Why?
- Stop it.

I've never driven a car.
I can't drive.

All right,
all right, boy.

Sorry.

I didn't know.

I get a bit
worked up.

Stop crying.

Please...

stop crying.

Look, let's sit down
and have a cup of tea.

Come on,
I know a good place.

Come on.

Can I come with you?

Come with me?
Where to?

You know,
where you're going.

Where you live.

To stay, is all.

To stay?
No, of course not.

You can't come
with me.

No, I think it's about time
you went home

or wherever it was
you were going.

I can't go home.
I've run away.

Well, I can't take you
with me.

It's out of the question.
I've got work to do.

I can help you with the work.
I wanna help you.

Well, so good, boy.
I don't know you.

And you say
you've run away?

Well, that's not good.

People might come looking for you.
I can't be doing with that.

I could help with the digging.
I could carry your things for you.

Listen, are you simple or something?
I said no.

No, no, no. Now, go away.
Go home.

I wanna shine a shoe!
I never have anything to do!

( sniffling )

( crying )

Hey, it's all right.
No, no, no.

Come up.
Huh? Huh?

Please, can I come?
I've got nowhere to go.

Well, I--

Well, I mean--

do you really want
to help with the work?

Yes. Please.

Do you like animals?

I love animals.

So, can I come?

Yes, I suppose so.

I mean, if you really
want to come.

Yeah.

Thank you.

Thank you.
You're a very nice man.

Man:
Come on, if you're coming.

- You dropped your whiskey.
- Oh, thank you.

There's a few important things
you have to remember.

First one is,
never talk to anyone

about the work, or about me.
Got it?

Yep.

The second one is,
always do as I say.

The third one is,

you must never
kill anything.

You understand that?

Never kill
any living thing.

Yeah, I'll remember them all.
I promise.

Good.
That's it then.

- By the way, what's your name?
- Bobby.

Call me Mr. Summers.

It's gonna get dark soon.

We've got a long way to go.

What's that noise,
Mr. Summers?

You'll see.

You see?
It's bamboo.

It does so sigh in the wind.

Come on, boy.

I imagine it's the land
whispering to me.

Or playing its music.

Do you want some supper?

Yes, please.

Come on.
Here.

( water running )

Wash you hands
and sit down.

Bobby:
What's that for?

The cheese?
It's for the mice.

When the mice
are finished,

the cockroaches come
and eat what's left.

It's nature's way.

So, do you feed the mice
every night?

Every night
that I'm here.

If I feed them,
they don't steal from me.

People usually kill mice
when they don't want them to steal.

But I feed them.

Well, I think it's time
you went to bed.

You can sleep there
for tonight.

Thanks.

- Good night, Mr. Summers.
- I'll put the lights out now.

Mr. Summers.
Look!

It's the mice.
It's the mice.

I used to have a pet mouse.

He was a beautiful black
and white mouse called Peter.

He was so tame,
he'd sit right in my hand.

If Peter was here,

these mice might have
made him king or something.

I would like to hear more
about that mouse of yours sometime.

Right now, I think
you should get some sleep.

Mr. Summers?

Bobby: I did that a lot,
that summer in Cornwall.

I spent a lot of time
watching the tiny things

go about their business
in the grass.

I used to have dreams
with my eyes open.

Sometimes it was as if
I was as small

as the things
I was watching.

I used to go in beside them
somehow,

and everything
was big around me.

Sometimes I got
lost in there,

but when I got frightened,
I always came back to being me again,

so I never cried.

All those tiny things
seemed to be going somewhere.

I never found out
where it was.

Good morning, boy.

- Where have you been?
- I've been into town, shopping.

Got a few things
for you.

Come on in,
I'll show you.

So, then,

I got you
some boots...

and a sleeping bag.
There it is.

And a knapsack of your own.

A thermos.

Oh, yes, and a trowel,
for digging.

And a toothbrush.

Oh, wait.

I got you this.

Well, come on then, boy.
Open it up.

Oh, brilliant!

I've always--
thanks--

thanks for everything, but I've always
really wanted one of these knives.

Hey, it's not a big town,
but the shops are very good

because of the holiday-makers
and the tourists, you see.

Now, I'll get us
some lunch.

Then we've got
to make a start.

We've got some
especially important work.

We've got a lepidopterist
to deal with.

What does the lepidopterist do

with the dead moths?

He sticks pins
in them, boy.

Keeps them in cases
with glass tops.

He collects them,
thousands of them.

Why does he have
to kill them?

Why can't he look at them
when they're alive?

He kills them because he sees
nothing wrong with killing them.

Also, they're very easy
to catch... and kill.

How does he do it,
Mr. Summers?

You'll see, boy.

You'll see tonight.

- What's that he's got?
- It's a deceitful machine.

It's a light so bright

that all the moths and insects
are attracted from miles around,

tricked by the light,
you see?

We're gonna put
his light out.

How?

Smash it, boy.
Smash it.

I've been here once before
and I've smashed it once before.

Is it part of the work?

Yes.

Can I do it?

What?

I don't know.

Please.

All right.
Why not?

You'll be able to run faster than me,
that's for sure.

Take this stone.

Run as close
as you dare,

and throw it right in the center.
Throw it as hard as you can.

Smash it.

You think
you can do that?

- Yeah, I can do that.
- Good.

Mr. Summers:
Now!

Run!

Do it!

Come on, for God's sake.
Do it!

Hey! Hey!

Good boy.

Bobby:
Mr. Summers. Mr. Summers!

Mr. Summers:
Shh! It's me.

Come on, hurry, boy.
Hurry!

What about the dog?

Don't worry about him.
Look.

( growls )

I told you I've been here before.
Come on, hurry!

Did I do it right?

Yes, Bobby.

I have to say,
you did it very right.

How do you feel?

I feel fine.

I'm a bit tired,
I'm really fine.

( laughing )

Bobby:
The first day was the most exciting

of all my days
with Mr. Summers

because of the attack
on the lepidopterist's light.

We never did
anything else like that,

although Mr. Summers had plenty
of plans and schemes.

The rest of the time,
we walked up and down

the narrow, twisty roads,

burying the animals
the cars had squashed.

Curious carving,
isn't it?

- Bobby: It's an elephant.
- Mr. Summers: That's right. It is.

Bobby: As our bit of Cornwall got more
and more packed with holiday-makers,

there were many more cars...
many more deaths.

You maniac!

Get out of here,
lunatic!

It was important work,

but sad.

Mr. Summers
got crosser and crosser

and took to drinking whiskey
out of the bottle during the day.

He said awful things
about the people in the cars,

though I thought
they looked quite ordinary.

But he was always
very nice to me.

Aw, Mr. Summers, look.

Oh, no.

Not a badger.

Poor creature.

Must have been
knocked over last night.

Why?

Why, in God's name?

Will somebody
tell me why?

He's so beautiful,
isn't he?

He's big.
I had no idea they were this big.

He's too big
to bury around here.

We'll collect him in the evening
and bury him somewhere special.

Need to get him
off the road.

Come on, Bobby.

Pick him up.

That's it.

Bring him over here.

Let's put him
over by the wall.

That's good.
He can't be seen from there.

We'll pick him up
and we'll bury him later.

Bastards.

Bloody bastards.

( thunder rolls )

Mr. Summers:
Damn it, I made a mistake.

We don't want to be involved in all this.
Come on, Bobby.

But it would be nice to get
ice-cream, wouldn't it?

All right.
Come on.

All right.
Yeah.

Don't be long.
You know I don't much like the beach

with the holiday people there.

- I'll wait for you here.
- Okay.

Thanks, Mr. Summers.
Don't worry, I won't be long.

Girl:
Come on, let's go.

Bobby.

Is it really you,
Bobby?

Where have you been?

Bernard's been looking for you
all over the place.

Come and have
an ice-cream.

No, I've got to get back.

- Is there someone waiting for you?
- Yeah.

No, no. It's just--

It's all right. Calm down.
Calm down.

Let's go and get
that ice-cream.

- Call the office.
- Yeah, I'll call them.

Why did you run away, Bobby?

- I was frightened.
- Frightened?

What were you
frightened of?

Of him.

Of him. Of The Fat,
my stepfather.

I don't understand.

He was horrible.
He killed my pet mouse.

He said he was going to send me
away to a hospital, forever.

Steady on, Bobby.

I can accept that he's--

I mean, not exactly the same sort of person
your mother was,

but he's not as bad
as all that, surely?

Two vanilla cones, please.

Is that with flakes?

Flake? No, no without the flake.
Thank you.

- Without. Two scoops, dear?
- Bobby. Come back!

Bobby!

Bobby!
Wait!

Bobby!

Where am I?

Mr. Summers!

Lost.

How could you
be so stupid?

Mr. Summers.

Um-hm?

I've got something
to tell you.

Would this "something"
have anything to do

with the day
you got lost on the beach?

Yes, it would.

But it's not just that.

It's my whole story.

You wouldn't understand
unless I tell you my whole story.

That man was--

Mr. Whiteside

is his name.

Bobby:
It took ages.

We sat and smoked
one cigarette after another

while I told him
what had happened

on the beach
with Mr. Whiteside.

I told him all that

and went right back
to the beginning

and told him
about my mother,

and the store,
and The Fat.

I told him
about Peter, the mouse

and about how The Fat
had killed him.

And how frightened
I was.

Then I told him
about getting knocked down

by a car in the high street
when I was little,

and not being well
ever since.

I told him about the nurses
and the tutors

and never having
to go to school.

I told him
about Dean

and running away
to Cornwall.

Then I asked him
if I had to go away.

No, Bobby.

You don't have
to go away.

Can I keep on
with the work?

Yes.

Can I live here
with you?

Yes, you can.

Mr. Summers...

Yeah?

I love you.

But I'm worried about--

about--

Mr. Whiteside might...

tell The Fat that I'm
in this part of the country.

He might try
to look for me.

I've already told you
that you can stay.

I'm more bothered about the effect
all this has had on you.

I'm going out
for a walk.

I need time to think about
everything you just said.

You do your book
or something.

I'll be back
in a while.

Mr. Summers:
Tell me, Bobby,

have you ever wondered

why I live like I live
and do what I do?

Because you love
the animals.

Yes, because I love
the animals.

And because I believe
that they are life.

Life equal to ourselves,

and not in some lesser--

less valuable form.

I also have a story.

I want you
to listen carefully.

First of all,
there was a young man.

He went straight from school
to work in a bank.

He worked very hard
and became manager of the bank.

But this took
a long, long, long time,

and because he had been
working so hard,

he hadn't really had time to think
about meeting people,

having a girlfriend.

He did eventually
meet a girl, though.

She was much younger
than him and very beautiful.

He fell in love with her.

Who could blame him?
It was wonderful.

After all these years
of nothing but work,

to meet a beautiful woman

who seemed to admire
him so much...

Like a reward.

Then the man bought a lovely house
on the edge of the town.

A big house.
A huge garden.

They married
and they moved in.

Not long after this...

well, the details
are unimportant.

He came to understand

that the woman
he had married

was false.

Deceiver.

Mr. Summers?

Yes, it was around
this time

that he became obsessed
with his new ideas about animals

and he was foolish enough to start
talking about them to people he knew.

His wife started to bother him
about the garden.

She made him do work
even though she knew

that he hated tearing out
the wild plants

and replacing them
with bought ones.

She made him kill
to protect these new plants.

Life got worse and worse
for the man.

He felt ill all the time,
started making bad mistakes at work.

Life felt like...

one long, dark,

wet afternoon.

He just wanted to die.

But I couldn't do it, Bobby.

I couldn't kill myself
because I knew if I did,

then it would be
her killing me.

And me dead

is what deep down
she really wanted.

I couldn't give her
the satisfaction.

So...

I killed her.

I suffocated her

with a pillow.

But you don't kill.

I did that time,

that one time,

because it had
to be done.

What about the police?

Do they know about it?

I don't know.

They didn't find a body,
that's for sure.

I burnt it.

And I took a great deal of money
from the bank.

I ran away.
Just like you, Bobby.

It was the most exciting
day of my life.

Then I wandered
around for a time,

all over the country.

Finally, I came here.

( grunting )

No, I can manage.

There's something
I want to show you.

Is that the money
you took?

Some of it.

Three more boxes like this
under the wardrobe.

More money that you or I
will ever need.

Enough so we can
live here forever.

Or some other place like it.

Well, that's brilliant.

Not quite.
There's still The Fat to be considered.

He's got to be
dealt with somehow.

Dealt with?

You mean, kill him?

Kill him?

No, we're not going
to kill him.

Now that you know that money
will never be a problem,

how do you fell about letting
The Fat have the store?

For me, all right,
I suppose.

But I feel bad
about my mother

because I know she didn't
want it that way.

But if she knew
I was living here,

and I didn't need
the store,

or even the house
or anything,

then I think she might think
it's all right to let it go.

You know, because what she wanted
was me to be happy,

and that's what I am here,
with you.

In that case,

you and I will go to London
to see this man.

I don't know about that.

I've told you
what he's like.

He really hates me.

Look, we'll see him
in his office, at the store.

The staff will be there
and his secretary.

What could he possibly do
in broad daylight

in front of employees?

I think it will work.

I can feel it.
I think it will.

You're a genius!

I haven't been in London
in over 10 years.

Mr. Summers:
That's a really good drawing.

Bobby, Bobby--

I can't help it,
Mr. Summers, I feel so nervous.

I feel like
I'm going to explode.

Look, we've been over this
again and again.

I understand the state you're in,
why you're in that state.

I told you,
leave it all to me.

Gosh, it's Bobby.
Hey, Bobby.

Hello.

Man:
Bobby's back. How strange.

My dear Phillip, goodbye.
I'll see you soon.

I look forward to it.
And remember, my treat next time.

- See you again soon.
- Yes.

Well, well,
look who's back.

How very pleased I am
to see you, Bobby.

I'll just be a moment.

- Janet.
- Janet: Yes, Mr. Bernard?

Send them in now.
No phone calls, no interruptions, nothing.

I understand.

Maybe you are going to introduce
this gentleman, Bobby.

This is Mr. Summers.

Mr. Summers,
this is my stepfather.

Please forgive me,
Mr. Summers.

I have to admit
this is taking me by surprise.

I began to think
I might never see Bobby again.

Of course I am most grateful to you
for bringing him back to me.

Please do sit down.

In fact, you're mistaken.

I haven't brought
Bobby back.

He wanted
to come back.

He has some matters
that he wants to sort out with you.

I'm here to help him.

Help him?

In what capacity,
may I ask?

Nothing official.

Please regard me

as a concerned friend.

Friend?

I assume Bobby
has been telling you stories.

He has a lively imagination.

People tend not
to take him too seriously.

But he has told me
certain things, yes.

And?

Mr. Summers:
I'm inclined to take him seriously.

Meaning?

Meaning I do believe

that I can solve the problem
of Bobby for you.

Exactly how do you propose
to do that, Mr. Summers?

Well, Bobby has been
living with me in Cornwall

since the beginning
if the summer.

He has told me
that he is happy

and that he would like
to stay on indefinitely.

He has been very helpful to me,
in my work.

Really?

Is this true?

Yes, it's true.

I've been working
with Mr. Summers.

He's been
very kind to me

and I haven't felt
ill at all.

Not really.

Well, quite different
from how I felt before.

Good heavens,
the boy can speak.

Congratulations, Mr. Summers,
your ministrations

have clearly
born fruit.

But why come to me
for permission?

Bobby's a grown up.
He can do as he pleases.

The fact of the matter
is that Bobby became very anxious

after he met
Mr. Whiteside on the beach.

He was worried

once his whereabouts
were known,

then you might decide

to come looking
for him.

Well, it was bothering
him so much

that I suggested to him
that he come back

on his own accord,

and tell you exactly
what his new circumstances are.

And?

Well, then he told me

that he was prepared
to consider the possibility

of transferring
the ownership of Platts...

...to you.

On certain conditions,
of course.

Is that it?

Yes.
Yes, I believe so.

( sneezing )

You idiot.

Give me Platts?

I've got Platts.
Platts is mine.

Your running away
made that possible.

And now you're back,
you pathetic moron--

Hey, stop that.
Leave him alone!

Leave him alone?

You leave him alone,

you disgusting pervert.

Human rubbish...

unspeakable human rubbish.

Get off him!

Mr. Summers!
Mr. Summers!

Listen to me.

Do exactly as I say.

One noise, one twitch,
that would arouse anyone's suspicion,

and your Mr. Summers is finished.
Do you understand?

Get him up.

- Janet.
- Yes?

I need the car, at the back.
Straightaway.

Mr. Summers isn't well.
I'm taking him to accident and emergency.

Janet:
Should I call the hospital?

The Fat: No need to fuss.
I'll call you later.

This man's not well.
We're taking him to casualty.

All right,
Mr. Bernard.

Mr. Summers, wake up!

Are we taking him
to a hospital?

Hardly necessary.

But he's hurt.
He needs help.

I think I've changed
my mind about Cornwall.

Maybe I should let you and Mr. Summers
play house after all.

I'd like to see where you've been hiding
all these weeks.

The Fat:
Is it hard to find?

Bobby:
No, I can find it.

( coughing )

The Fat:
He's all right.

He's sleeping
like a baby.

Can you find
his place from here?

Well, can you get us there
from here?

If you don't tell me,
he'll have to, won't he?

I can't carry him
all the way by myself.

Charming little place,
isn't it?

Is there anything
to drink?

Bobby:
Mr. Summer's whiskey.

It's in there.

Get it for me, then.

( whispers )
Mr. Summers.

( crying )

( birds chirping )

What a bloody racket.

Well, it's light now.

Is there a spade here?

Is there a spade here?

Why?

I want a hole dug,
that's why.

What for?

What's the matter?
You can dig, can't you?

I can bury things.

Can you?
Where's the bloody spade?

There's one outside
by the lavatory.

Please stay awake.

I love you.

Don't die.

Please, don't die.

You can't die.

What would I do
without you?

Don't let them
destroy you, Bobby.

Don't let him destroy--

Trick him.

Trap him.

Kill him.

He would do it.

Dig.

The Fat:
Dig long and deep.

Bobby:
I thought of running away.

But how could I have
left Mr. Summers?

Once I started digging,

I didn't really want to stop.

I thought about all sorts of things
while I was digging that hole.

I could hear
the sea sound,

making me think how big
the sea was and how small I was.

It seemed that I couldn't really matter
since I was so small.

And I thought
about the birds

and the little animals.

After them, the insects.

After them, there were
even smaller things

with names I didn't know.

There were trees and plants
and grasses,

and they were
all alive.

Mr. Summers thought
all these things mattered.

"If they didn't matter, "
he would say,

"why were they there?
And why were they so beautiful?"

Then I thought,
if all these things did matter,

then maybe
I mattered too.

For a little while
I felt a bit better.

Why have you stopped?

- Because I finished.
- No, you haven't.

I need another hole,
just like this one.

That's enough for now.
I'm thirsty.

You can leave
the spade.

It's just a toad.
It's a toad.

It's harmless.

There's nothing
to be scared of.

Look.

I can pick it up.

It wouldn't hurt anyone.

- Look.
- ( The Fat gasps )

You little bastard.

Stop! There's money.
There's lots of money.

Money?
What money?

Mr. Summer's money.
The money that he had. There's lots of it.

How much?
50 pounds? 100 pounds?

I suppose you think
100 pounds is a great deal of money--

No, it's thousands.
I promise, it's thousands.

- Where is it then?
- Under the wardrobe.

Go get it then.

It's locked.
The key, where's the key?

It's on Mr. Summer's key ring.

What are you doing?

Nothing.

There's more.

Down there.

More?

Mr. Summers says
there's three more boxes.

Down there.
Right under the floor.

I hope you're right.

Can't you help me?

( screaming )

( screams )
The Fat!

I hate The Fat!

( screaming )

( clunk )

Mr. Summers!
Mr. Summers, I'm back.

Mr. Summers?

I'm back.

Can you hear me?

I'm back.

Bobby: I took as much
of Mr. Summer's money as I could carry,

then buried the rest in the hole
The Fat made me dig for myself.

I had to get away in case
people came looking for us

after The Fat
never came back.

Now I do the work alone,
all over the place.

wherever I happen to be.

One day I found
a traveler's camp.

Now I live there
with my dog in a tent I bought.

But night after night,

in my dreams,

I become something very small
in forest of tall grass.

I can hear
the sea sound and the bamboo,

very loud.

And I can feel
Mr. Summers close by...

whispering to me
in the dark.