All language subtitles for Back.S01E06.HDTV.x264-MTB.en

And how are our desserts here?

This cherry clafoutis is exquisite.

It's one of Juliet's specialities.

She trained in the Limousin
region, the home of clafoutis.

Well, I've never had clafoutis like it.

I fear we may have ruined
all other clafoutis for you.

The clafoutis that Juliet makes is
quite simply a phenomenal clafoutis.

Hiya, Geoff, how's it going?

My father died in 1982.

Right, anything we can do or...

I had a rummage last week,

looking for photos for
Laurie's birthday memorial,

found Dad's death certificate.

Died of bowel cancer.

Oh, Laurie, had that, too, right?

Well, Laurie started with bowel,
then it went to his stomach, lungs,
and oesophagus, liver and kidney.

He was like a cancer pasty in the end.

So, I'm having myself tested.

I wouldn't worry, Geoff,
you're an active guy,

you don't look your age at all.

How old do you reckon I am then?

Five years younger than
whatever you really are?

Well, that's very kind, Jan, thank you.

But genes are genes.

Do you have blood in your stools, Geoff?

You know, if you don't mind me asking.

I don't seem to, Mike, so
that's a blob of comfort.

Awww. How about a lunch,
Geoff, settle yourself down.

Do you still do paninis?

We're not a panini kind of pub any more.

Here's a bar menu.

Go on, then, I'll have the
warm beetroot and fennel salad

with sheep's curd and red onion marmalade.

And a Diet Dr Pepper?

Magic.

Yeah.

It's open.

Hi.

How're you doing?

Fine, you know,

lying still, chilling,

having a nice stare.

I tried calling you but...

Andrew's won, hasn't he?

Transformed the pub into a terrible
brilliant success in a way I simply couldn't.

Owns a bigger share of it
than me, customers love him,

he's won.

Only if you accept he has.

I accept he has.

He's stolen my life, and he's
living it better than me.

He deserves everything
that wasn't coming to me,

but will come to him now that he is me.

Andrew is just a guy.

No, he's got powers.

Mum's asked us both to give
speeches at Dad's birthday memorial.

Whose speech will be brilliant?

Who will people think is Laurie's heir?

You know who.

You are his heir. You're his blood family.

Come on, you can hire
people to write speeches.

Let's find you a guy to...

Are you OK?

Anxiety pills.

Not pills to give me
anxiety, to prevent it.

My GP calls them "keep
calm and carry on" pills.

Because he's a dreadful fucker.

You're not meant to drink
alcohol with them, are you?

No, that's why I'm only having white wine.

Right.

I am not going to let you wallow
in a half-pissed haze of self-pity.

This is the moment we
do the Rocky montage.

Out of bed! This is your
pub. You are Laurie's son.

So let's sort you out.

When was the last time you had a shower?

- This morning.
- Oh, right.

Why, do I smell?

No.

I mean it was literally two hours ago.

No, sorry, it was sort
of a rhetorical flourish.

Do I stink?

Is that something else
to feel anxious about?

Oh, for fuck's sake, Stephen!

I don't think we've
ever had so many covers.

Oh, you're a marvel, Juliet.

And how clever of you to
bring her over here, Andrew.

Not seen Paul back for a few days.

No, he died.

I'm joking. We split
up, it wasn't working.

He's really old, had you noticed?

He did seem a little bit agey.

I'm sorry it didn't work out.

It was completely amicable.

We both agreed I'd made a massive
mistake and he had to leave immediately.

Cancer results are in.

Zero! Clean as a lady's glove.

You could ice a cake with my rectum.

Large scotch, Geoff? Don't mind if I do.

You're clear, that's good news.

Cass, you need to get checked out, too.

Because your dad and your grandfather
both got bowel cancer, you're higher risk.

- Oh, God! - I say higher risk, that
just means a bit higher than average.

Chances are you'd be fine, like me.

Oh, my God, I've got cancer.

No, you misheard me.

You just need to get checked out
because of the increased risk.

I always felt I might have a
limited time in this physical body,

this temporary vehicle.

No, fuck's sake, you'll be fine!

Go to the doc's, get a
referral, get checked!

Whatever becomes of me, remember
we are but dust and shadow.

Be there any greater wisdom
than this? Aye, yet there be.

Love one another.

So, for this meeting, in a short
speech with up to 20 gags, it's 175.

I'd like to it feel natural,
you know, not forced.

I've got you, understood.

I offer a bespoke service,
no off-the-peg jokes here.

Great, it needs to be sharp, polished, but
also real, sincere, with a depth to it.

OK.

Was he a fat guy, your dad?

Hang his pants on the line, people
thought there was an eclipse?

He wasn't particularly fat.

Oh, that's a shame, because there's a lot you
can do with weight and slimming and so on.

He was just a sort of normal size.

OK. Did he get on with your mum?

You could say he didn't speak
to Mum for 18 months once,

well, he didn't like to interrupt her.

They got on very well.

Ah, fair enough.

Another avenue shut, never mind.

Did your dad take you fishing?

- No.
- No?

Jesus!

I got a tonne of stuff on fishing.

Difference between fishing and sex,

you go fishing, you actually
want to catch something.

That's hilariously funny, but
it's not really the tone I'm after.

OK, you'd rather stay clear
of the adult material.

That's fair by me, I can do any style.

Do you remember Adam Cassidy?

I wrote for Adam Cassidy for years.

Dead at 48, poor sod.

But he could do everything,

from the family-friendly
gentle pointing stuff

to really dark jokes about
missing children, bestiality,

physical deformities.

Let's try leaning more towards
the pointing side of things.

Fine.

You got any brothers or sisters?

That's a rich scene.

No.

No brothers or sisters.

Have you prepared your speech?

I thought I'd read the room vibe,
then wing it, speak from the heart.

You?

I've got a speech worked
out with 20 jokes.

Some are about fishing.

Did Dad used to take you fishing?

No, never, I was going to pretend he did.

And that he had big pants.

I got my appointment to be
checked out for the, you know...

The cancer?

Are you getting checked?

No! I don't want to know, I'd
rather be ignorant of most things.

You really should get checked.

Fine! But I'll almost
certainly have bowel cancer.

My colon is like a Passchendaele trench.

Anyway, I'd like you both to have this.

It's a memory box, for to remember me by.

To be opened in the event of, you know...

Your death.

I'm sure it's all going to be fine.

Inside there are some photos of me,
a lock of my hair, some drawings,

and a recording of me aged 14 singing
Billie Holiday's Strange Fruit.

I sincerely hope I won't have to
listen to that for a long time.

Thanks.

You know, I can't help thinking
of the baby I never had,

crying for the mummy she never knew!

I'm sorry, God bless both of you!

- Do you...?
- No, that's yours, mate.

A box of hair for you and
Cass's weeping, fictional baby.

Oh, Chris!

Hello!

Who are they?

Oh, Mum invited some of the
other foster kids to come along.

The favourite ones she
stayed in touch with.

Right, lovely surprise,
what a sweet gesture.

Look at you.

Do you recognise any of them?

No, I don't think so.

Alfie Tate! Oh, it's lovely Alfie Tate!

Oh!

Boys, look!

It's lovely Alfie Tate!

Oh, he was here a year
or two before you, Andrew.

Laurie cherished Alfie Tate.

Absolutely adored him.

- Hi, Alfie!
- Hey!

Lovely Alfie Tate, lights
up a room, doesn't he?

Women want to fuck him, men
want to buy him a drink.

And then fuck him.

I am, I think, a little bit drunk.

But I don't care.

We are all here to celebrate
what would have been Laurie's

69th birthday.

And here to say a few
words about him is our boy,

Stephen!

I did hire a joke writer
to help with his speech.

Hooray! This'll be good then.

But reading the room, his material
doesn't feel right in the moment.

Oh...

Instead, I'm going to
speak from the heart.

Shit.

My dad never took me fishing.

That might sound odd to some people.

Isn't that what normal
dads do with their sons?

But Laurie wasn't a normal dad,
he wasn't an off-the-peg dad.

He was a bespoke dad,

a particular, peculiar dad

and husband and foster father and
brother and friend and publican.

Today, all of those unique figures would,

should have been 69.

Still young.

Gone too soon.

Here's to him.

Happy birthday, Laurie Nichols.

Happy birthday, Laurie Nichols!

Barrel of fucking laughs.

Now, I think that Andrew...

Oh, this would have been the
point, wouldn't it, Geoff,

- on Laurie's birthday when he'd sit and
play Rocket Man on the pub piano. - Oh...

Can anyone play?

Alfie Tate, lovely Alfie
Tate can play, can't you?

I remember.

Come on!

I haven't played in ages.

♪ And I think it's gonna
be a long, long time

♪ Til touchdown brings
me back again to find

♪ I'm not the man they think I am at home

♪ Oh, no, no, no

♪ Cos I'm a rocket man

♪ Rocket man, burning out
his fuse up here alone

♪ And I think it's gonna
be a long, long time... ♪

Guy there with the murder face,
someone said it's Andrew Donnelly?

It is Andrew Donnelly.

- Really?
- Yeah, why?

I was in a halfway house
with Andrew at 14, 15.

Shit hole. We both had great
memories of being fostered here.

- That's not him.
- Not him?

You're saying that man there
is not Andrew Donnelly?

Well, I didn't think so, but looking
at him now from the side, maybe he is.

I mean it was a long time...

I'm going back to the caravan!

The game's afoot!

I'm going to finally find out the
truth about Andrew or "Andrew",

that inflection was
implying inverted commas.

Do you think he's losing his powers?

Yeah, Alfie Tate's his kryptonite.

The ladder's wobbling, and I'm going
it smash it into it in my vengeance bus.

Good luck, don't go too mad.

Don't worry, I won't go too mad.

♪ Rocket man!

♪ Rocket man, burning out
his fuse up here alone... ♪

So, the map is...

This is where Google tells me
Andrew, or ANDREW, has been living

and working in the last ten years.

- Right.
- Look at the dots, the pattern.

Is he spelling a word out
on the map? Is it kiln?

It looks like kiln to me.

Kiln, as in...?

As in kiln. Do we have a kiln here?

Is there maybe treasure in an
old kiln that he knows is here?

Gold hidden in a buried kiln!
That's why he came back.

Where's the K?

That's the K, clearly that's a K.

Now, look here. I've
blown these pictures up.

Andrew's nose width in this
one, 23mm. Mouth, 31mm.

But this photo, mouth 31 again.
But look, nose 21, maybe even 20.

I really do think it's
the same guy, Stephen.

But Chris at the party,
he swore it wasn't.

Also, the eyes, look there.

He has inconsistent eyes.

It's clearly Andrew.

Andrew is Andrew.

I think what we really
need to do is focus.

Good idea, focusing.

- Great, I love the way your mind...
- No, actually focus.

Calm down and focus on me.

We need to look at the period of
Andrew's life where he goes dark and

- evaporates from the internet.
- Yes!

He's in the Limousin region,
then nothing about him at all for

18 months, then he's running
an ethical casino in Utrecht.

Right. That's what we
need to concentrate on.

- That is the key to who Andrew
is and what he wants. - Agreed.

Should you be boozing when
you're still on medication?

I stopped the medication -- it
was making me feel woolly headed.

I need clarity. And
these are single malts,

so it's not boozing, per se,
it's more studied appreciation.

Lovely, unhackable, microfiche.

The big corporates in
Russia can't delete it

like they can with the internet.

Microfiche is under the radar.

How often are you here, looking
at newspapers on microfiche?

All day, every day.

I have an illegal kettle.
If I use the plug just here,

no-one can see and I
can make a pot noodle.

I just have to eat it quickly
because of the smell,

so I have burnt my throat quite a bit.

And nothing yet on
Andrew's missing 18 months?

Not yet, but it's just a matter of time.

- Don't you think maybe you
should ease up a bit? - Why?

This is medicinal, by the
way, for my burnt throat.

For your health!

Physical and mental. You've
got high blood pressure.

Sure, but might be a good thing,
the blood coursing around,

taking vital nutrients very quickly,

and under enormous pressure
to where they're needed.

So, how are you?

Oh, you know...

Tom's moved out, so...

- Right. - I think we're
done. It wasn't working.

- It's been over for a
while, apparently. - Yep.

My head's all over the
shop, if I'm honest.

Don't suppose you fancy a
long, chatty, boozy dinner?

Talk it over?

Oh...

There's a thought. You could
have a boozy dinner with Andrew.

You're a clean skin. He might let
slip something to you about his

missing 18 months.

Right, you want me to go
for dinner with Andrew?

It's just a pizza at
Sergio's or something.

Could you maybe cover me
while I put the kettle on

and make up an illicit Options?

Knock a book off a shelf.

Look, Andrew, I've had a
card from lovely Alfie Tate

saying thank you for the party.

You never met as kids, did you?

No, but I...

.. I knew about him.

Bye, Mum.

Say goodbye to Cass and Stephen.

Look after yourself, son.
Been lovely having you with us.

You know what, Dad? The time
I've lived here has been the best

- five months of my life.
- Pleased to hear it.

Bye, Dad.

Ta-ta, Alfie.

It was such a treat to see him again.

Laurie doted on him.

Yeah. Now, I know he...

- Results, Cass?
- Yep, all clear.

I'm back to being a normal person.

All of that horrible
cancer drama is over with,

- which is obviously
totally brilliant. - Hurray!

You can stop inspecting your
stools, I mean, if you like.

- It's actually a very healthy
habit we should all get into. - Aw!

Ten minutes to closing.

If you're borrowing any books,
please bring them to the desk now.

Oh, my God.

"Monsieur Donnelly a
gravement blesse l'enfant."

Oh, yes.

Oh, joy!

Oh, fucking joy!

Andrew maimed a child!

Yes! Fucking yes!

He almost killed a little boy!

This is such fantastic news!

Get in! The boy nearly died!

Oh, my word! The boy nearly died!

He maimed a child!

He maimed a child!

Black Betty! He maimed a child!

Kettle in my holdall the entire
time, you fucking bookworms.

Andrew!

I'm home!

Hi.

- Everything all right?
- Everything's fine.

The cup that cheers.

Hmm.

I've been meaning to put these away.

Did you want anything in particular?

Yeah, I've come to run you
out of town -- like a cowboy.

Like a cowboy?

No, I meant Sheriff.

I know you went to prison in
France, Andrew, and I know why.

Right.

And you'd like to
weaponise this information.

The Licensing Act of 2003

tends to frown on
drink-driving child maimers.

And what would Cass and Mum say?

Wonder Boy almost killed actual boy?

You've had your triple cooked chips, mate.

You weren't there. You don't
know what really happened.

You need to fuck off and sell the
share of the business you got from

Cass to me, mate's rates.

This is all about Dad, isn't it?

No, it's not all about Dad.

This is about the game you've
been playing to take over my life.

Well, we're playing hardball
now and that's checkmate.

I know I'm mixing my games up, but
I haven't really slept for the last

- two months. - I've never wanted
to take over your life, Stephen.

I just wanted to come
back to where I was happy.

Bullshit.

If I go, you won't tell anyone
about what happened in France?

Not a soul.

I'll go and pack then.

Go on, take them both.

Let go on this side. Let go. Let go.

How was everything?

- Mostly fine.
- Excellent!

A very good night to you.

Satisfied customers tonight, I think.

I still don't get it. Andrew
seemed on tiptop form yesterday.

His voice mail was vague.

It just said he had to deal
with a ghost from his past,

like he had a dark or
possibly guilty secret.

I'll miss him. He had an
energy about him, didn't he?

Yeah, real energy. An electricity.

- He shone. - And buzzed. - Well,
sadly he's unplugged himself,

but we can still run
this place without him.

I have to say, I don't know how you
guys are going to run this place

without Andrew. He had an energy.

What was Andrew's ghost
from the past, do we think?

Was it a sexual ghost?

I think I might know Andrew's secret.

Really? Whatever could it be?

I'm sure it's nothing, right, Juliet?

I can't imagine Andrew doing
anything really terrible.

Probably be just a very minor tax thing.

For a while, Andrew lived in our
village, a few kilometres outside of

Limoges. Everyone found him...

.. very charming.

- Very brilliant.
- He is, isn't he? He's got an energy.

We already know about the energy.

He would do anything to help others --

mend roofs, sweep chimneys,
plant a wide flower meadow,

break in a horse.

I imagine you two were sexually involved.

No, purely friends and colleagues.

Right. I might still imagine it, though.

A few years ago, my
father died very suddenly.

My mother, a much-loved teacher
in our village, was distraught.

It's understandable.

She started drinking
quite out of character.

One evening, she gave
Andrew a lift in our car.

It was misty. She'd had a lot of alcohol.

There was still a half bottle
of vodka in the glove box.

She drove too fast. There was a thud.

Oh, no, goat?

- A boy.
- Right.

Just, in my mind's eye,
I saw a goat. Carry on.

She had hit an eight-year-old boy.

- Robert, one of pupils. Badly injured.
- Oh, my God.

Andrew phoned for an ambulance
and then for the police.

The ambulance took Robert to hospital.

My mother was prepared for
her life to be torn apart,

but when the police arrived...

.. Andrew was in the driver's seat.

What?!

He just drank the vodka
and told the policeman

that he had been driving,

that he had hit Robert.

Andrew took the bullet for my mother.

He went to court, pleaded guilty,
served 16 months in prison.

Bollocks.

I thought I might get the pub
into trouble, the Licensing Act.

No-one needs to know about
what happened in France.

It's eau under the pont.

Doesn't need to be public knowledge.

Well, if you're sure.

Let's just carry on as we were.

I think we were all
perfectly happy as we were.

- Oh, are you off, love?
- Hospital.

- Going to be checked out for
the bowel cancer gene. - Why?

- Because you're Laurie's
son, that's why. - What?

You're Laurie's son. You share his genes,

You should get yourself checked out
pronto. Good idea. See you later.

Am I...? Sorry, are you
saying I'm not Laurie's son?

- No, that's the exact opposite
of what I'm saying. - Geoff...

It's fine, I've got this.

- Mum, what is this?
- Let's not. - What is this?

You know I had a lot of flings.

Well, some of them sort of flung
a bit further than others.

Stephen, shall we talk about this?

So, there's no...

The blood link to dad is...

I'm like Andrew...

or Alfie, or...

.. any of them.

If it helps, I didn't know about
any of this. Although, it might

explain why the two of us
have never fully connected.

You know?

The tablets he's on now
tend to sulk him a bit,

but they said he sort of needs sulking.

- It's a benign sulk.
- Right.

It's Allison, love.

Hi.

These two people want
to escape to the country

and this man is helping them escape.

Wow, it's a good show.

Did you have a pizza with Andrew?

I said you should go to Sergio's
with Andrew, I didn't mean it.

No. I didn't go, that didn't happen.

Maybe all of this is
bluffing and switcheroos,

and everything I know is lies.

Or maybe everything I know is
true, but I think it's a lie,

or another whole level up from that,

which is too difficult to think about.

I'm really sorry, Stephen, that you
got overloaded and shorted out.

I'm fine. I've stopped drinking.

Mum got me an exercise
bike. It's all good.

Just wanted to say a very
quick hi, see how you are.

I'm running Juliet to the airport
-- she's going back to France.

Homesick. I miss my mother.

Safe travels.

- How are you?
- I'm tired.

Don't you worry, Stephen.
You just get well.

Andrew can run the business.

He can be in charge.

- You just rest, love, no hurry. - No.

- No hurry. - We'll look after
you, that's what families do.

Right, I will leave you guys to it.

I've left the dog in the car
and she still a shit grenade.

See you later.

- Should we...?
- Juliet?

- Oui? - Wouldn't your mum have
been prosecuted anyway for letting

a drunk person drive her car?

I don't follow.

If she knowingly let Andrew drive
her car while he was intoxicated,

isn't that an offence in France?

No, it isn't. We don't have that law.

Hey, I do need to get
going, plane to catch.

Bye-bye, Stephen. Get well.

Oh, when you're feeling a bit more
human, I'll take you out to eat.

I had a lovely pizza
at Sergio's recently --

really intimate vibe there --

you'd love it.