All language subtitles for El Embarcadero S01E02

Hey!

-It's my car.
-Sure.

-I was bathing and...
-Hop in.

I... I was in the water...

and I see them
taking everything!

Car keys, ID, wallet, cell phone.

-I can't even call my wife.
-Maybe it's a sign.

A sign that I shouldn't have
drunk that sweet liqueur.

A business dinner, you know.
I got a bit tipsy.

-They're Germans.
-"Tipsy", eh?

OK, so I was drunk. There.
So I wanted to take a dip in the ocean.

Freshen up a bit.

Then I said, if I bathe in my underwear,
I'll get the car seats wet.

So I go, OK...

It's only logical if I go naked.

Seems completely logical to me.

What's happening?

-Climb in!
-I'm coming.

-This guy's escaping. You take him.
-It's OK.

We're home, buddy.
Let's go. Here we go.

-You live here?
-I'll go get you something.

It's pretty large so it should fit.

-Thanks so much.
-And I found these, too.

-Thanks again.
-No worries.

A drink?
Glass of milk to sober up?

That would be great.
So where can I...?

Wherever you want.

Off you go!

Doesn't the fridge warm up
a lot in summer?

Yes. It absolutely does, yes.

But that way I use it more.

-You mean the porch?
-Right. And one should.

Very often we forget what we've got.

Let's say you have a terrace,
or a gorgeous garden,

and you wind up using twice
a year maybe when guests visit.

So I put my fridge out here.
And I use it all the time.

Whether to get some water or...
a glass of milk...

I have all this to myself.

It's all right here,
and no one is using it.

So this is really...

the nicest room in the house.

Like it?

Thank you.

Alex.

-So, did you tell her?
-What exactly?

What do you mean?
That you're Oscar's wife.

That because of their damn affair
you can't even mourn your husband!

All that we came here for.

-No, I didn't tell her.
-So what did you talk about?

She said it's eight years
they've been together.

But I'm much better now.
Let's go.

-Are you OK?
-I am.

C'mon!

This woman,
she's very attractive, sensual...

What are you trying to say?

Nothing. Just that I understand
the attraction. Physically.

That's not the question, hon'.

Just because I like a guy from down
the street or the gym

doesn't mean I'll start a double
life with him, or triple...

Mom, what I'm saying is,
I know Oscar loved me.

Get it? He loved me to pieces,
to the bone. I can see you, Mom!

I don't care if you make faces,
I know what I know.

So there's no doubt it was
a purely physical attraction.

-Understand
-Of course... it's possible.

Maybe he was one of those guys
who need to make love

three or four times a day, right?

Like some... Michael Douglas type,
you know what I mean?

It's an addiction like any other.
There's scientific studies about it.

But you two had a sex life, too, right?
I just don't get it.

So maybe we didn't make love
exactly how the two of them would.

-A purely sexual attraction.
-For eight years...

Alex, darling...

You got me worried.
You don't pick up the phone.

I'm sorry, Mom.

Are you taking tranquilizers?

No, it's only caffeine.
I need to concentrate.

How long have you not slept?

What do I know, 20, 30 hours...

It's that... I found out
Oscar's email password.

I've printed out all his mails
and whatsapp messages.

Here is his correspondence with her.
These over here are with me.

These are all his trips,
plain tickets,

trips of us two together,
of him and her.

With me he'd do city trips,
with her it was nature.

Seems he liked to hike,
scuba dive even...

Sit down for a sec.

If you're going to tell me
I'm obsessed: don't.

I know that already.
But I need answers.

Of course you do.

A Greek philosopher once said,
Sokrates, or one of the sophists,

either way, what he said was:

"When you run into a problem,
look inside yourself first."

-Some kind of poor man's yoga or what?
-No.

Just that when something hurts so bad,
it usually comes from inside.

-I don't know what you mean.
-Wait, stay.

You're trying to decipher
a marriage of 15 years

by labeling your husband
as if he were a "sex addict",

sifting through his messages, tickets,
photos. It won't solve a thing.

But I need to understand it!
If not, there's no way I can cope.

This one, for instance.

"March 23rd, 2017.

At the airport on my way out
but miss making love to you already."

That's Oscar... to me.

March 24th, the next day. In Greece.
With her. Look at his face.

He's in love.

But this picture is
two weeks later, with me.

Look at his face.

There, too, he's in love!
It's the same face.

Look, here.

This day here...

This was a wonderful day.

-This way!
-It's raining cats and dogs!

Run!

Thank God you bought
this incredibly ugly sweater

that I am going to put on right now!

What are you looking at?

-What happened?
-I hit myself. It really hurts.

-It hurts?
-It hurts.

Let me see. Look at me.

I want you to draw all the pain
right onto the tip of my finger.

Get ready, because it will disappear.

"We were about to make love
in the car, like two teenagers."

And then he writes "ha ha ha",
and some smilies.

And then he goes on:
"Maybe it was the pink bra,

but it came over me, like an animal,
my feelings for her."

Who on earth talks to his lover
like that about his wife, Mom?

And who is this woman who lets herself
be talked to like that, about me?

I just don't get it. It's just
questions over questions!

-Don't shake your head, Mom!
-I'm not.

-What would you do?
-What I would do?

I'd search every last hole for every
message, photo, video they exchanged.

At the same time, I'd start drinking.
Morning, noon and night.

I'd take tranquilizers to sleep
and to make it through the day,

mixed with caffeine, to wake up.

After seven or eight weeks,
I'd throw in Prozac

to avoid depression
and wanting to kill myself.

And then, at least two or three times,
they'd lock me up in rehab.

But a really nice one.

Darling...

-I'll go take a shower.
-Good.

Then I'll go to the office
and get my life back.

Better yet.

-Can you clean up a bit?
-Of course.

I'm going to the interview.
I'm a wreck, wish me luck.

You don't need it.
Your work speaks for itself.

Plus, your best friend works there.

You really know how to calm a girl.

No! I love you.

-Bye.
-Good luck!

Fran, I can't do lunch
with the Hong Kong crowd.

You're kidding!
Anything wrong?

No, no, nothing bad.

-Something with Alex...
-Of course not. I just don't feel well.

OK. I'll glue on the damn chopsticks
so I won't look like a fool.

-Whatever.
-Thanks, man, I owe you.

Hello?

Just wanted
to give you back your clothes.

I was in the area for another business
meeting. So I thought I'd pass by.

You used softener.

-Don't tell me your wife ironed it.
-I did.

We take turns.

How about a grape juice?

-I haven't had grape juice in 25 years.
-So it's about time.

This house is a luxury.

-You think so?
-Yes.

Well, that's one way of seeing it.

The truth is, the Albufera's
always been the opposite.

-They used to eat rats here.
-Rats?

During the 50s.
Life was tough back then.

Rice and hardship.
As my grandpa used to say.

Good ol' grandpa,
always had a good story to tell.

Tell me one?

You want to hear one
of Grandpa's stories?

-Yeah, a funny one.
-OK.

There's this one he'd tell,
about the women, the rice pickers.

They'd come to wash their clothes
in one of the many alcoves here.

-Where the herons are now.
-If I knew what a Huron is...

Here, look.
See those hidden alcoves back there.

Over to the right.

So, there.

Now imagine how humid
it gets here, in August.

The poor women couldn't take it any
more and would bathe right there.

In their underskirts,

or whatever they were wearing,
some naked.

So the local town kids...

-They knew.
-Of course.

Of course they knew.

So they'd go and watch them bathe.

And jerk off, of course.

So they're wanking away
when, suddenly, one of them,

a boy called Visillas
starts yelling...

"Stop, guys, stop right now.
It's my mother!"

-I've got to go.
-Sure.

Come back whenever you like.
I'm always here.

So can we solve this now?
I want everyone's opinion. Fermin?

Alright, so... I want condoms.

-Seriously?
-In my vending machine?

Just put some in your wallet
and in a few years,

when they're expired,
you replace them.

What we need is a little bit
of everything...

Alexandra!
Welcome back, how are you?

Fine. How about you all?

-Fine.
-Don't stop what you're doing.

Really. What I need is job routine.
What are you dealing with?

About what to put
in the vending machines.

Perfect.

Minerva?

I'd like organic shakes,
no sugar added.

Right now there's only soft-drinks.

-Belén?
-Apples.

Granny Smith, if possible.

Who has ever bought an apple
from a vending machine?

-Roberto?
-Apples, too.

But I prefer the "reinetas",
and some chocolate...

Katia, let's go.

-Alex, what is this?
-I don't know, you tell me.

Basketball, bike riding, fishing.

Besides being the perfect husband
and that woman's lover,

think Oscar
was also the perfect dad?

That's ridiculous.

But who has pictures of a little girl
in his phone if not a dad?

It could be just her child.

But she's not older
than eight years, it fits.

Maybe she's married to another?
A lover? A niece?

And Oscar would have her niece's
pictures in his cellphone?

I don't know either, Alex.

So let's see...

Look at her chin, her eyes,
the same as Oscar's.

Enough!
I see no one's eyes nor chin here.

You went there,
didn't tell her who you were,

and came back to work, right?

I thought you'd lost it,
but here you are.

You're here.
So listen to me and do as I say.

You'll take these
and throw them away.

And you'll turn the page
and get on with your life. By yourself.

I'm by your side,
but it's you by yourself.

OK?

Oh, Katia...

-What's going on?
-We've got a meeting.

But something's cooking.

-How's that?
-He looked away. It means something.

-What's that mean?
-That he's about to fuck us over.

Why? We just sold the biggest
building ever for this company!

Listen, I know it's so insensitive
for me to ask but...

What?

-Can I count on you to push forward?
-Of course.

-You sure?
-Yes.

Because this project has taken
seven years and we'll finish it.

Katia, I have to work. It does me good.

So, we'll go in that meeting later
and we'll kick ass.

Hurry up. I'll head over.

-Hi!
-Blanca, you look great!

-Thank you.
-Let me introduce Paul.

-Delighted.
-My pleasure.

We read your novel.

We discussed it and, for sure, it's a
worthy successor to your former work.

-Thank you.
-But...

We think it's not quite
what the market needs.

You're the ones who decide
when and what I should write.

Right.

But the reader wants something
more emotional now.

A bit more like the new kids on the
block, Milena Busquets, Yasmina Reza...

They're wonderful writers.
But look, Carmen...

Those hot shots, they come
and they go. Like the tide.

They come and go.

Blanca, I value your view of reality.

But if you don't want the new kids
to throw you off the wagon,

you'll have to adapt to the times.

Adapt to the times!

As if a restless writer like me
wanted to repeat herself!

It's you, the editors, who ask
for the same novel over and over.

When you see a winner, you clone it:

movies, series, another novel...

Until you've killed it dead.

-Do you have something else?
-For two years I have!

Alright, alright.

Tell us about it.
So, I have this story about...

A woman... she's young...

a young professional... strong...

whose life is turned
upside down in seconds

when she sees her husband
dead on a slab.

The problem isn't
that he committed suicide.

It doesn't even hurt because
she can't even get to the pain.

It's a different reason.
It's another woman.

Another home, another life
that he's been leading for eight years.

Now this is no TV movie you'd
watch on a Saturday afternoon.

Because this other woman is
a force of nature...

I don't know why I came today.

I like talking to you,
the countryside and all...

It's so relaxing.

It's like a movie at the cinema.

So I may have to ask you
to pay admission.

-And for the grape juice, too.
-Of course.

-Want some?
-I don't smoke.

OK.

Veronica?

Call Conrado.

-What?
-Call the police.

What do I say, what's happening?

Veronica, I don't know what...

Come out.

Come out, I said.

-Come out of there!
-OK, OK.

On you go, down. Head down!

-Get down.
-I didn't do anything.

Oscar!

-What?
-Keep an eye on him.

You're back.
I wasn't expecting you.

Are you OK?

Let's split, get out of here,
Frankfurt maybe.

-Frankfurt?
-Everybody's heading to Germany.

-Let's beat it.
-Germany? And our friends?

-And the sun, the ocean, the...
-I just want to be with you.

-I don't care where we are.
-But, what are you saying, hon'?

You don't want to go to Germany,
you're nuts!

Hello?

Is someone home?

Arturo Meier's is the next gen
of architects.

He's a high-honors graduate
from Zurich Tech

and specializes
in high rises and their budgets.

So we're fortunate
to have him on board.

-Wonderful!
-No, no, please, it's vice versa.

When I look at your projects, the
skyscraper, all I can say is congrats.

Thanks so much.

But tell us a bit about yourself. What's
the highest building you've worked on?

I was involved in a 17-floor
building in Panama.

And you didn't get dizzy?

Look, it's obvious Arturo's field will
be budget affairs and paper work.

All architectural
and construction matters

will rest firmly with you and Alexandra.

So you can concentrate on your work,
while I deal with politicians,

investors, and budget matters.

Is there a problem with the budget?

Only that the investors' offer
doesn't cover the project costs.

That's strange.
The building costs 311 million euros.

The investors have committed
for 336 million.

So even if we go over
by a few million,

and we never do,
it still leaves a couple million.

Which pocket do they go to?

I'd like to know who we need
to pay off, and why?

Arturo, would you excuse us?

-Katia?
-Sure.

Where did you get that number?

From the Satch & Trust executive,
your British partners.

-You shagged the British investor?
-I'd say it was him shagging me.

Don't tell me you're jealous.
You make love to your wife, too.

It was never a problem.

-It's not the same thing.
-Yes it is.

-No.
-Explain yourself.

You're fucking a guy
this whole depends on.

-You're putting it all at risk.
-I am not. I screwed a guy, 's all.

Your stupid, uncalled for jealousy
is your problem, not mine.

-I'm not jealous.
-Is that so?

No, I'm not, I'm just asking you
to stop mixing job and private life.

Now you listen.

This is Alexandra's skyscraper.
Alexandra's.

So if you bring on some
high-honors fucking hot shot

to spy, to delay or to convince someone
that things can't go exactly as planned,

walls will come tumbling down.
Because I won't let that happen.

-Hello?
-Alex, where are you.

-I had to go.
-Where?

-To find out some things.
-You need to come in.

Bad things are happening.
I need you here, now.

-Say I had to go. I'm a widow...
-They're trying to screw us!

What I need to do can't wait.

How are you, dear?
So sorry for your loss...

Hi.

-How are you, Jun?
-Vero! How are you, hon'?

-Fine.
-What a shock...

Damn!

Are you OK?
Are you OK, wait, wait...

You're bleeding.

-I'm so sorry, I misjudged...
-Here, put this there.

It's you... Martina, right?

-It's me, Veronica.
-I'm really sorry.

It's not a problem.

Come home with me
so I can take care of that.

-Can you drive?
-I don't think so.

Fine, take your stuff and let's go.

Alex? Alex!

Darling?

There you go.

-You're not from here, right?
-No, I'm not.

I'm a biologist.

I'm doing a study
on the area's bird life.

How nice!
What kind of birds?

Ducks,
starlings, among others.

You won't have trouble
finding ducks here.

I think you're OK now.

Are you any better?

-I mean... about your husband?
-No, not my husband.

He was married.

Eight years...

Didn't it hurt knowing
he had another life, too?

Do you know the feeling

that when you love someone

you just want that person
to be happy?

And everything that makes
him happy, well...

makes you happy, too.

So, should we throw your blouse
in the washing machine?

You don't want to go studying
ducks blood-stained like that.

It'll dry here in no time.

Thanks.

What are you doing?

Hey, you're painting my nail!

-Dammit...
-Need help?

The washing machine's leaking
and I don't know why.

Thanks, pull...

A bit more...

From the other side.
One, two, three!

It's not there.

It's not there.

It's not there!
What isn't?

The tube.

Hi, honey.

-Hi, Mommy...
-Hi, sweetheart.

-What happened?
-Oh, it's nothing.

Just, the water leaked
from the washing machine.

Now look at this mess.

You have a wound.

You know what happened?

We had a little accident with our cars.
But it's all fine.

Oh, my darling...

Alright now,
let me make you some lunch!

Does it hurt?

-A bit.
-Wait, I'll heal it.

Right here...

So, you need to focus all your pain
right here onto my finger.

Ready?

Concentrate...

Close your eyes.

Like that.

Has it stopped hurting?

Yes.

No it hasn't, you're crying.

Mommy, can we call
Daddy to come and heal her?

It didn't work.

Daddy's at work, honey.

-He's on a trip.
-When's he coming back?

-Well...
-Did you know that...

-I'm a bird watcher!
-Really?

There are some really nice ones
close by your house.

In fact, I'll be living around here.

-I'm looking for a place.
-Stop looking then.

Because we have a room upstairs.
You can rent it if you like...