All language subtitles for Hamish Macbeth s02e06 The Lochdubh Deluxe.eng

That's us, then.

There we are.

(Grunts)

Are you all right there, Uncle Murray?

Never better, Christie. Never better.

Now, why don't you go
and see to Mr Ferguson there

while I have a last word with Bella here?

Uncle Murray...

About Ferguson...

What?

His cousin Magnus is his only surviving
relative and he's in hospital in Inverness.

Well, we'll just have to see
that Mr Ferguson keeps

until his cousin gets out of hospital,
won't we, Christie?

The man died penniless, Uncle,
and his cousin is no millionaire either.

I said see to him.

And I say we shove him in our cheapest
box and screw him down as he is.

- This is a business.
- That's right. My business.

Now, just do as you're damn well told
and see to that man, Christie.

My God, Bella.

Where did it all go, eh?

All that time.

Seems barely a minute since you
and me were at the old school together.

A blink of the eye since the days

when you had every boy
in the district sick with love for you.

Oh...

Where's it all gone, eh?

I've brought your tea, Mr McMurray.

Ach, you're a life-saver, Mrs Lewis.

- Tea, Christie?
- No.

As you will.

(♪ Distant bagpipe plays)

(Gasps)

And so, ladies and gentlemen,
we have travelled here from near and far

to say a tearful, but at the same time
a fond and loving, farewell

to our dear sister Ella.

Excuse me, Minister,
a fond farewell to Bella.

This is my Auntie Ella here.

Ah, our sister Ella.

And as we stand here sharing
a moment of prayerful silence,

we must thank the Lord
for Bella's life among us.

Er, Miss Campbell, my condolences.

Major.

Miss Campbell, can I take
this opportunity

to say how sorry I am at your loss?

- Your sister was a lovely person.
- That's very kind of you, Lachie Jr.

They were such fine words.

Fine words, Lachie. Come on, Auntie.

- Now, there's an irony for you.
- What is?

Oh, it's just a wee story
I must tell you one day but not today.

It wouldn't be right.

(Chuckles)

Minister.

Chrissie.

Barney.

Mr McMurray.

Rory.

There you are, Auntie,
a nice port and lemon.

Thank you, Rory.

That was a lovely service,
Miss Campbell.

It's very kind of you to say so, Hamish.

Though I did think that Isobel Sutherland

might have covered the funeral
for The Listener.

My sister was a well kenned face
in the community after all.

Isobel's gone to Glasgow to work, Ella.

Glasgow? Why would
she do a thing like that?

Personal reasons, Auntie Ella.

Personal reasons?

Does he mean man trouble?
Is that what he means?

I think he means personal reasons, Ella.

Wonderful spread, Barney.

Thank you, Les. Thanks very much.

I must say, Mr Meldrum,
it is a fine spread you've laid on.

Mrs Meldrum.
I did the breakfast, Mr McMurray.

Oh. My apologies.

You know, it's amazing how a funeral
will bring out the extravagance

in even the most prudent of men.

I beg your pardon?

Rory Campbell. He must be paying
plenty for this do, Mr Meldrum.

Do you think I'm charging
for this, Mr McMurray?

- I'm just making...
- Do you think I'd ask a friend for money?

- Mr Meldrum...
- I'll rip your head off your shoulders

and ram it up your backside,
you ignorant wee...

Refill. Any time you like, Barney.

- Please, Barney.
- Do you hear what he said to me?

Uh-huh. Refill.

Please.

Aye, Hamish, coming right up.

Please accept my apologies,
Mr McMurray.

Accepted.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just go
and give Mr Campbell my bill.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don't you think
that's just a touch insensitive?

If I see you handing that envelope
to Rory Campbell, I'm out of here,

leaving you to Barney Meldrum.

Please think about it, Mr McMurray.

For the price of a first-class stamp,
you get to stay out of traction.

Ah. Thank you, Murray.

- Slainte mhath.
- Slainte mhor.

I'll come right to the point, Lachlan.

I wanted to talk to you
about your boy Lachie Jr.

What about Lachie Jr? He's not
been getting up to anything, has he?

No. Nothing like that, no.

I wanted to talk to you about his look.

You know, he's got a wonderful look.

Lachie Jr?

Oh, aye.

Sombre is the word I'm looking for.

That boy has
the perfect undertaker's visage.

Oh, aye.

But the truth is I've been feeling
a bit stiff in the joints lately

and I've been thinking
that maybe an extra hand

at the parlour's
just what the doctor ordered.

Until I'm back at myself, I mean.

Och, why don't you just retire, man?

Put your feet up. Let that nephew
of yours run the show.

He's my late brother Archie's boy,
Lachlan.

But that Christie will never run
the business as long as I draw breath.

Never.

The ideas he's got for the trade
would frighten the life out of you.

For example, the burial ground would
become known as the slumber lawn.

And you won't go to your grave
if Christie McMurray has his way.

You'll go to your eternal power.

- Never.
- Mm-hm.

And that's not the end of it. Instead of
a coffin, you'll have an astro barge.

Astro barge?

In Lochdubh?

And for all this euphemistic claptrap
and the frippery that goes with it,

he'll charge your relatives
a fortune and a half.

Lachlan, for pity's sake,
could I have a loan of your boy?

Well, you know, Murray...

I can sympathise with your predicament.

But, you see, Lachie Jr holds
a number of key posts

on the board of McCrae & Son.

- What key posts are those, Lachlan?
- Let me see, now.

There's deputy director naturally,

company secretary, director
of human resources and marketing...

- I see.
- Do you, Murray?

- That's good.
- I'll pay him £2.80 an hour.

- £3.
- Done.

(Whistles) Here!

(Whistles)

Come on!

So, er... where did you get to, then?

The wake's still going on.

Will you look at that, now, eh?

Is that a fine item of millinery or what?

- What is it?
- That is a top hat, boy.

Here, let me tell you, there's not many
men get a chance to wear a hat like that.

Oh, no. Wait till you see this.

Uh-huh?

Eh?

Just take a look at this, eh?

Now, look at that cloth, eh?
Just feel that, man.

See, if I lived to be 1,000 I'd never
be able to afford clothes like that.

- You're not...
- What?

...thinking of wearing that stuff?
You'll look like an undertaker.

Well, no, Lachie Jr.

You see,

I was thinking that it might
be nearer to your size, actually.

An undertaker? Me?
I can't believe he did it.

- How could he do that?
- It's a perfectly honourable profession.

And we'll always
need them, unfortunately.

To be honest wi' you, Lachie,
I don't see the problem here.

- You did say it was only temporary.
- You don't see the problem?

You don't see the problem?
The problem is one of image, Hamish.

You know me. I'm bad-assed.

A boy with attitude. I'm like, like...

- Like Jimmy Dean.
- Precisely. Like Jimmy Dean.

Well, could you not be an undertaker
during the day and Jimmy Dean at night?

- Hamish...
- Now, John, no.

Now, that would never do.

Lachie, you could always just refuse.

I couldn't do that. He's my daddy.

Aye, well... let me think.

- Let me think. Erm...
- Hey, get off.

Would you... Och, Lachie, sit down, eh?

Right... Right, think about this.
Think about this.

Where would
McCrae & Son be without the son?

- How do you mean?
- (Sighs) Right...

If Lachlan got the idea that you
actually liked being an undertaker, yeah?

If he thought that you maybe
wanted to stay wi' old McMurray...

He'd have you out of there
before you could say embalming fluid.

- That's brilliant. That's the answer.
- Good.

Aye and that's a storm come in.

Give me a hand up, Lachie Jr. You can
give me a walk back to my caravan.

(Growling and thunder)

(Ghostly bagpipes play)

(Wails)

What the hell happened to you?

- Where's Bella Campbell?
- What?

Bella Campbell, man!
Her grave's empty!

They took her.

They came and took Bella Campbell.

Took her where?

Ah, terrific.

Does he look the part?

- Does he look the part, Mrs Lewis?
- He looks the part, Mr McMurray.

The boy's a natural.

Right, Lachie, I've got some tinkering
to do under the house.

Mrs Lewis will show you around.

What she doesn't know
about this place isn't worth knowing.

Take Lachie to meet Christie.
He doesn't know I've taken you on.

- I wanted to surprise him.
- Come.

(Distant baby cries)

What's going on? Where's Macleish?

- Rory, calm down.
- My auntie, it'll kill her.

I will tell you what I know, OK?

There's no point upsetting yourself
till you know the facts.

Have a seat. Have a seat.

- Sit down.
- (Hamish) Thanks very much.

Hamish?

Right, er...

I found Macleish wandering
through the cemetery in a daze,

looking as though
he'd been in an explosion.

What about Auntie Bella?
Are you saying she's been blown up?

No, no. No' blown up. No' blown up. Er...

- More kind of beamed up, actually.
- Beamed up?

(Clears throat)

According to Macleish,
your Auntie Bella was taken away...

by spacemen, Rory.

Spacemen?

- Aliens.
- Taken where to?

Somewhere, er...

up there, he said.

(Christie) Uncle!

- Uncle Murray!
- What?

I have just met the new assistant.

Young McCrae.
I should have been consulted.

How much are we paying him?

- £3 an hour.
- £3...

£3 an hour.

We could have got a man for next to
nothing off a government scheme.

£3. He's got to go. Do you hear me?

He stays and that's
my last word on the matter.

Tea, Mr McMurray?

Ah, you're a life-saver, Mrs Lewis.

And before you ask, I don't want any.

No tea. I do not want any tea.

Ah, thank you, Mrs Lewis.

(Lachie Jr) Right, right. I'll tell him.

I hope that was not a personal call.

There are no personal calls.

That was Constable Macbeth,
Mr McMurray.

He says Bella Campbell's gone.

Missing?

Taken by aliens to... somewhere up there.

There's to be a meeting
in the village hall tonight.

I was lying in my hut,
minding my own business,

when all of a sudden there were
these noises and these unearthly lights

and creatures I've never saw the like of.

There was this vessel hovering
just above the graveyard.

The next thing,
they put out this tractor beam

and sucked me straight out of the hut.

Then I was deposited
bang in front of their leader, Calel.

- (Laughter)
- How do you know his name?

We communicated
across this kind of mind probe.

It came out
from the centre of its forehead

and went up my nostril
and straight into my brain.

The pain was awful.

The man's havering, Hamish.
He's obviously demented.

Hang on. Hang on. Hear him out.

On you go.

I asked Calel what they wanted

and he said they'd come for
the dead earthling, Ella Campbell...

- (All) Bella Campbell.
- Bella Campbell.

Did they say why
they wanted Miss Campbell?

They said they were
inter-galactic zoologists

and they were collecting dead folk
from all over the Milky Way.

For experimentation.

What kind of experimentation?

(Shushing)

I prefer not to say
to your face, Mr Campbell.

- (Laughter)
- Hamish, you don't believe in this stuff?

Just look at the man.
He's traumatised.

Sit down and shut up.

Will you all be quiet?

Esme, easy.

Now, look, whatever happened, it
damaged his faculties, that's for certain.

I'll admit it's a strange tale and
I appreciate your scepticism, Lachlan,

but, erm...

well, to anybody in the hall who doesn't
believe Mr Macleish, I'd say this.

- Where's Rory's Auntie Ella?
- (All) Bella!

- Bella.
- (Muttering)

What about you, Doctor?
Do you believe this story?

Well, I've looked closely
at these burns on Mr Macleish

and from their configuration and degree,

I'd have to conclude they are consistent
with the type of roasting

one would see on a man caught in
the blast of a space rocket as it took off.

Which is exactly
what Mr Macleish said happened.

(Groans)

(All mutter)

(Barney) Listen, why don't you
inform the authorities?

(Hamish) Can you imagine what would
happen to the village if this got out?

We'd have the papers here,
the TV, even the wireless.

The place would be swarming and you
could see what image it would give us,

bunch of dafties chasing spacemen.

(Agnes) You can see their point, Hamish.

I've asked the major to prepare a strategy
to deal with the emergency. The major.

Er... right. I'II, er... I'll get
straight to the point, men.

(Esme) And women!

Of course.

Now, the thing is I am looking
for volunteers to form a UFO watch.

Now, if this Calel and his cronies
happen to come back,

we should be ready and waiting to tell
'em what a terrible thing they've done

and demand unconditionally the return
of the body of the late Miss Campbell.

Now, to this end,
I have prepared some chitties

and if those of you who are interested
would fill them in and return them to me,

you will be issued
with warm clothing and binoculars

and a hip flask.

(Excited chatter)

There you are.
Thank you very much. Thank you.

Thank you.

Very nice. Thanks very much.

Thank you.
Remember to sign your name.

They didn't buy it, Hamish.

Ah, well, I know that
but what else was I gonna do?

Call Macleish a liar
in front of the whole village?

Next question. "Well, Hamish,
if you don't believe Old Harry,

"what do you think
happened to Miss Campbell?"

Aye, Hamish is right.

We have to hope there's enough doubt in
their minds to distract them for a while.

(Hamish) Major, how'd you get on?

Well, I got my volunteers,
if that's what you mean.

Now, you did say you'd tell me
what this is really about, Hamish.

Yeah, well, obviously
Macleish is lying through his teeth.

He said he was sucked
out of the hut in a tractor beam.

Well, I went back
and found this. Thank you.

I mean, it's all in there,
Calel, mind probes,

all the ingredients
of the spaceman story.

(Major) So what did happen last night?

(Hamish) Doc.

It's only a theory but there are
various bits and bobs from a cadaver

that might generate some cash.

In the production
of steroids, for example.

Isn't science just wonderful, Major, when
you think that bits of old Bella Campbell

might end up doing the 100 metres
in less than nine seconds?

Body snatching, are you...

Are you saying
that Macleish sold Miss Campbell?

(TV John) It might be
worse than that, Major.

Macleish has been the grave digger
there for a couple of years.

How many more has he sold?

If people suspect for a minute,
the whole village would be up there

with picks and shovels
checking on their late relatives.

- Think of the distress it would cause.
- But surely you're all wrong.

Er... there are Macleish's injuries.

No, no, the storm last night, Major,

er... we think lightning
struck the mechanical digger.

Before Macleish had time
to fill in Miss Campbell's grave.

Hence the need for the spaceman story
when Hamish found him.

At least you've the comfort of knowing
you had Alex cremated, Major.

- (Hamish) John!
- No. No, Hamish. John's right.

It is a comfort.

This is a terrific flat.

Christie must be well chuffed with it.

He won't be well chuffed
until he owns the whole place.

If I could just find
a man to succeed me here...

The right man, Lachie Jr.

I'm glad to see you're taking an interest.

Really awful glad.

Not ready yet, boy?
Major'll be here any minute.

Actually, I've got rather a lot on.
Just give the major my apologies.

What are you speaking about?
What is all this stuff?

You are only on loan to him, remember?

I know, but actually I'm finding it
very interesting and quite fulfilling.

And there is the top hat
and the fine clothes, after all.

- Oh, aye. So there is.
- (Car pulls up)

That'll be the major.
You'd best be getting along.

It's all perfectly straightforward, McCrae.

You bring in the deceased,
shove them up on the conveyor,

the minister gives a few choice words,
then discreetly presses this button,

fade up the 23rd psalm and away
the deceased goes. Any questions?

- No.
- Good.

If you follow me through to
the hot end, we can meet the staff.

- Mr McMurray.
- Sawney. Lachie McCrae, Sawney Weir.

- Pleased to meet you.
- Pleased to meet you.

Uncle Murray wants him
shown the ropes.

No problems.

Come on.

This is my assistant Tam Duff.

- Hello.
- Oh, he can't hear you.

He has to read your lips. Watch this.

This is Lachie!

He is working for Mr McMurray!

Hello. Pleased to meet you, Lachie.
Pleased to meet you.

- You too.
- What did he say, "you who"?

You too, Tam.

Oh. I'm stone deaf, you see?

I see.

Show him the system.

I'm going for a word with Mr McMurray.

Come here.

Now, this is the main switch

and it'll start straightaway.

You've got to be careful...

- What's all this?
- All this is my Uncle Murray's idea.

We're paying him £3 an hour.

It won't be long. Old Murray's bound
to pass through here any day.

It's the damage he might do
in the meantime that worries me.

The man has no conception
of how a business should be run.

So you keep saying.

But tell me what's all this rumour
about spacemen in the burial ground?

- You've heard, then?
- Aye.

I also heard Macbeth
swallowed the whole thing.

Oh, aye.

(Muffled chattering and laughter)

(Distant shouting)

(Car passes)

(Barney) Ten minutes
and I'm packing it in.

- Watch yourself. Watch your footing.
- What?

Oh! Oh!

- Where are you, man?
- Here.

(Phone rings)

Er, McCrae & Son at your service.

Lachie?

What are you doing, boy?

Putting on make-up.

What are you putting it on for, son?

Do you think I've been
a bit heavy-handed with that blusher?

What do you think?

Lachie... is there something
you want to share with me, boy?

Don't panic. It's for the job.

I'm practising.
Mr McMurray said I should practise.

Ah, the job.

Oh, well, you know, boy, I'm all for
professional commitment, you know,

but it is just a short-term
arrangement, this.

In fact, you can jack it in
as far as I'm concerned.

No. We made a deal with Mr McMurray

and you do always say
that integrity's everything in business.

Did you want something?

Aye. Just had Christie McMurray
on the phone.

You've to go to the Finlay croft
and wait for his Uncle Murray.

- Old Dugal Finlay?
- Aye.

Ach, it comes to us all
sooner or later, boy.

Er... I've been feeling
the years myself lately.

Nonsense. You're as strong as an ox.

(Engine stops)

(Muffled chattering on radio)

Mrs Finlay, on behalf of
McMurrays Funeral Directors,

may I say how sorry we are
at your great loss.

Dugal was a fine, fine man.

And when Mr McMurray gets here,
he'll take care of everything.

Just you wait and see.

How are you managing?

Mrs Finlay's very upset, Hamish.

Once we've attended to Dugal there,
she'll be a whole lot better.

Oh, really?

That's quite a service
you're offering there, Lachie.

What do you mean?

Well, Mrs Finlay's
the one that's dead, son.

Dugal. It's Doc Brown, Dugal.

Doctor. Aw...

Mr Finlay, on behalf of
McMurrays Funeral Directors,

may I say how sorry we are
at your great loss.

Mrs Finlay was a fine, fine woman.

Oh.

She looks beautiful, Murray.

Thank you.

Not me. Lachie Jr here took over.

Lachie...

You have the hands of an artist, boy.

An artist.

She looks better now than she ever did.

Thank you.

(Sobs)

You'll see we made a reasonable profit
through the quarter, Uncle.

- I can see.
- Mm-hm.

I've been thinking
about young Lachie's salary.

- £3 an hour.
- Yes, I said it was steep.

So you did.

I think we'll bang it up to six.

What?

The boy is simply magnificent.
Easily worth it.

And who knows,
it might tempt him to stay.

Oh, but... you said it was short-term,
Uncle, just till you were feeling fit again.

We don't need him.

I think we do and if we can't see
eye-to-eye on it, Christie,

you should maybe consider
your own future here.

See that the boy's paid £6 an hour and
that'll be for every hour he's been here.

Tea, Mr McMurray?

Ah, you're a life-saver, Mrs Lewis.

Thank you.

(Sobs)

You can forget about spacemen
and your body snatchers,

this is something much closer to home.

Harry Macleish had a visit
from Sawney Weir last night.

- So?
- I got close and saw what was going on.

Weir gave Macleish
an envelope stuffed with money.

Look, this is the grave that was meant
for Rory's auntie, right?

- Aye.
- Now, come over here.

This is Sawney Weir's parents.

Now, years ago
it was common knowledge

that John Weir
and Bella Campbell were carrying on.

Oh, it caused a lot of bad feeling here.

John, could you get to the point?

Well, John Weir and Bella Campbell
would have been lying

right next door to one another.

That would have been
a great affront to Sawney.

To the extent that
he'd remove Miss Campbell?

That's right, and put her through
the crematorium at Cnothan

where he just happens
to be the supervisor.

Ah. So he paid Macleish
to give him a dig out.

Now you're motoring, Hamish.

So you're saying
Sawney Weir took my auntie

and put her through
the cremmy at Cnothan.

That's right, but I'm telling you this
as a friend, Rory, no' as a policeman.

You see, with your Auntie Ella gone...

- Bella.
- Bella.

Erm, I don't have any evidence against
Weir. Everything's circumstantial.

So I'm really only telling you this
for your own piece of mind.

As for everybody else, we just have
to stick to that spaceman story.

Why would Weir do such a thing?

Well, according to John,
your Auntie... Bella

and Weir's father were, erm...

at it at one stage.

No, no, no, no, Hamish.

That was my Auntie Ella.

John!

- John McIver!
- Yes, Hamish.

It was Ella, not Bella.

I've went and blurted everything to him
on account of you.

- Hello, Mrs Lewis.
- (Sobs)

(Chat indistinctly)

...with his own flesh and blood
trying to do him in.

That alone would kill him.

(Indistinct)

I have tried to keep Christie off his uncle

but, to be on the safe side,
I'd be on hand with a pot of tea

whenever I knew they'd be alone,
so I would come in in the nick of time

and then... last night...

How long can I keep this up?
Because I can't bear it any longer.

Now, don't...
Don't worry, now, Mrs Lewis.

I'll have a word with Christie.

If he knows we are on to him,
he won't try anything else.

I hope everything's
to your satisfaction, Magnus.

We'll see you at the crematorium, OK?

Thank you.

Hamish... come on in.

That was Mr Ferguson's cousin Magnus.

Such an understanding gentleman.

Have you done
something wrong, Lachie?

Not exactly wrong, Hamish. It's just that
with Mrs Finlay still in the chapel of rest,

I took Mr Ferguson in here.

(Softly) Mr Ferguson's taking
his final journey today.

Come and see what I've done to him.

You'll notice the suggestion
of a smile there, Hamish.

And I've enhanced the definition
of the jaw line as you can see.

His cousin Magnus says
I've taken years off him.

(Hamish) The man certainly looks fit
enough to jump right out of that box.

Thank you, Hamish.

Lachie, why are we talking like this?

Like what, Hamish?

Never mind.

Is, er... Is Christie around?

He's just stepped out for a bit.

Let me show you round while you wait.

I'll just put the lid on Mr Ferguson here
and screw him down.

Lachie, cover him up
by all means but, er...

if you could leave the screwing down
till I'm gone.

That can't be right, can it?

£2,000 for a coffin?

Ah, but that's the Lochdubh Deluxe.

Mr McMurray's late brother
designed it himself.

Sent the specifications
off to the manufacturers.

Note the interior features, Hamish.

Lead-lined for durability.

And that's genuine
satin upholstery there.

Then there's your eiderdown pillow

and a moveable footrest
for a snugger fit.

At 2,000, I'd call it a snip.

A snip?

Anybody's got two grand to spend
on a coffin must have money to...

Money to what, Hamish?

Money to burn, Lachie.

Was Miss Campbell buried in a Deluxe?

She was, yes.

Erm...

I see.

- Is Murray around?
- He'll be upstairs in the study, I expect.

My suppliers say they've only ever
sent one Deluxe to this company.

Well, these printouts
say you've sold over 20.

He's been selling
the same one over and over

and Weir's been disposing of the bodies
at the crematorium.

My God, Hamish.
His own father was in the first Deluxe.

How could he do that?

I'd better stick the Land Rover round
the back just in case he gets wind of us.

(Phone rings)

McMurrays Funeral Directors.

Right.

(Murray) Are you sure Christie said
he was going to the shops?

(Lachie Jr) That's what he said.

Oh, f...

Mr McMurray, what's going on?

Why is Hamish waiting outside?

Lachie boy, I'm too ashamed to tell you.

Oh, but it'll all come out soon enough.

Lachie, I want you
to take charge of Mr Ferguson here.

Won't Christie mind?

I don't think so.

- Hello, Major.
- Aye.

Doesn't he look splendid?
Young Lachlan.

He is a natural. You can stand
your volunteers down now, by the way.

You've found the culprits?

Yeah, I've found them.

(Man) Hamish.

All right, Will.

I'll just give the stock
a dust and polish, Mr McMurray.

You do that, Mrs Lewis.

(Sighs)

(Tuts) Oh, dear.

(Screams)

- Where's Christie?
- I don't know, Mr Weir.

Constable Macbeth and Mr McMurray
went through the books,

something about the Lochdubh Deluxe.

(♪ Psalm 23: The Lord Is My Shepherd
on Hammond organ)

Coming through, Sawney.

Sawney? Coming through.

(Muffled) Coming through, Sawney.

Sawney?

Sawney, man!

That's Sawney Weir.

(Engine revs)

(Tyres screech)

Where's Christie?

Hey!

Where's Christie? Have you let him out?

I don't understand what you're saying.
I'm on my way to see him.

He was in the coffin!

Oh, my God! He thinks I'm there!

- Come on, Macbeth! We've got to hurry!
- Where?

Hurry! Come on, hurry!

(Christie) Sawney!

(Banging)

Sawney! Sawney!

Sawney!

It's me, man! It's Christie!

Get me out of here!

Sawney?

Sawney!

(Banging)

(Muffled) Sawney!

...how sorry we are...

- Christie, we're coming!
- Where's the coffin? Where is it?

- It's inside.
- What is it? What's the matter?

Where is it? The coffin
that just came through, where is it?

- Where's the coffin, Tam?
- The coffin, Tam?

I just put it through.
Is there something wrong?

It's money.

A £20 note.

Ah, well, it's true what they say, Lachie.
You can't take it with you.

I'm very sorry, Mr McMurray.

- I'm not.
- (Hamish) You, come here.

Lachie Jr, it would seem
that there's a vacancy

at McMurrays Funeral Directors.

Would I have to live at the flat?

Well, that's everything, then.

- Daddy...
- What?

I can always change my mind.

Change? Are you soft or what, boy?

The man's giving you
the business on a plate.

Aye.

You're only moving to Cnothan, boy.

You are about to become
a man of substance, Lachie Jr.

Think about the future.

See, once you've got
the funeral parlour, we'll merge.

You and me.

We'll become a conglomerate.

McCrae & McCrae.

McCrae & McCrae.

Come on, chin up, boy.

Er...

Come away and start up the truck, eh?

I've asked Hamish to pick me up.

Aye, well, maybe just as well, eh?

Aye.

- Aye.
- (Car pulls up)

So, then...

Come on, Lachie boy, have I got
to throw you out of here or what?

(Sobs)

(BIows nose)

Well, that would seem
to be that, then, Lachlan.

That would seem to be that.

(Sniffs)

(Sobs)

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