All language subtitles for Life After Life 1x02 NO FONT COLORS

Of course, these things
never happened.

Not in this life.

Argh!

In this life there's a new baby.

Jimmy.

His brother, Teddy, is asleep.

And so is Pamela.

Ursula is trying not to sleep.

Her dreams are...

..challenging.

CLOCK TICKS

TICKS GROW LOUDER

URSULA GASPS

SHE BREATHES HEAVILY

DOOR OPENS

What are you doing up?

Can't sleep.

More bad dreams?

Come here.

You know, only very special people
have powerful imaginations.

You're extra interesting.

It's a bit of a burden, but
that's the way to think about it.

I think I dream about dying...

..because I've already died.

Lots of times.

I assure you, you haven't.

I would have definitely noticed.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

How was London?
How were your friends?

Boring.

I want Ursula to see a psychiatrist.
Why on earth do you say that?

You talked me out of it before, when
she pushed Bridget down the stairs.

You are not talking me
out of it again.

There's something wrong with her.

She's a little introspective,
that's all. And it's no bad thing.

She's always down in the dumps
and she has these terrible dreams.

We cannot assume this will just
pass. She'll grow up soon enough

and we need her mentally sound
as she moves through the world.

Let us not forget that
unscrupulous men lie in wait,

ready to take advantage of women

who don't have their head
screwed on correctly.

How would we even locate
a psychiatrist?

Major Shawcross in the village
recommends a chap up in London.

Some of his men came back
with very bad nerves.

He mentioned it to me in passing.

The way I heard it,
it was Shawcross that came home

with a bad case of nerves.

I just want her to be happy.

The psychiatrist recommended
was in London.

It was decided that Ursula could
be put on the train by her mother

and met at the other end
by her aunt, Izzie,

even though both Sylvie and Hugh
doubted that Izzie

was sufficiently reliable
to be in charge of a child.

Sylvie disliked Izzie, although
she tolerated her for Hugh's sake.

Don't talk to anybody,
especially to any men.

If Izzie isn't waiting for you
at the platform,

you come straight back home,
do you understand?

Izzie had managed to get a job

writing a weekly column
for a newspaper.

She wrote under the pseudonym
Delphine Fox

and called the column
Adventures of a Modern Spinster.

Ursula!

Isn't this exciting?

Two ladies alone in London.
Whatever shall we do?

What adventures lie in wait?

You have to take me
straight to the doctor.

Delighted.

So thrilling.

The talking cure is quite
the thing, you know.

Perhaps don't mention to your father
that I brought the motor.

He seems to have very little
confidence in my abilities,

even though I managed to drive
an ambulance throughout the war,

sans mishap, in another country,
no less.

Of course, the real reason
he doesn't like me driving

is the little green eyed monster.
Am I right?

What?

Oh, he's jealous.
He wants an automobile himself.

Your mother will not allow it.
Am I right?

I don't know.

Very politic answer.

I'm glad I've been tasked
with the grave responsibility

of shuttling you from A to B.

I know that I am considered by
your mother mad, bad and dangerous

to know, but I thought we could be
special chums. What do you think?

Pamela is a little dull,
all that tennis and cycling.

No wonder she has such
sturdy ankles...

CAR HORN/LOUD CRASH

SCREAMS

IZZIE GASPS
Aargh!

Cut it! Cut it!

The baby nearly died.

God wanted it back.

ETHEREAL MUSIC

Argh!

Aargh!

Ursula?

I think what we're saying, Izzie...
Mm. ..is that we'd prefer

you don't reference our children
in your column.

They are not your children.
For goodness' sake.

They are imaginary children
that I've invented

in my persona as Delphine Fox,

author of Adventures
of a Modern Spinster.

The column's most awfully popular,
by the way.

Don't even write about
my imaginary children.

Pamela, what are you doing
with your feet?

It's the way to shape the ankle,
according to the Modern Spinster.

The Modern Spinster is not
a person from whom anyone

with any sense would take advice.
So glad I came.

Besides, you're too young
for shapely ankles.

I'm nearly the same age as you were
when you married Daddy.

Children, go inside for tea,
would you?

Izzie, Sylvie and I were wondering
if you might do us a small favour?

Ursula needs to take
a weekly trip to London.

We thought if we put her on the
train, you might take her off

and deliver her to a Dr Kellet
on Harley Street.

What's wrong with the poor darling?
Malade?

She's fine.

BABY CRIES

Lovely ankles.

What else do you see in her?
Sylvie is worried about Ursula.

She seems to think that...

I don't know how to explain it
and I can't really,

but that she has been here before.

She suffers from an extraordinary
amount of deja vu.

Clairvoyant!

Oh, we should set her up
in a gypsy caravan.

Crystal ball, Tarot cards.
IZZIE LAUGHS

Ahem.
HUGH CHUCKLES

So who's Dr Kellet?
He's a psychiatrist, is he?

Apparently he helped
a lot of men after the war.

Oh.

How did you hear about him?

Were you a patient? No.

A friend put us in touch.

You must have seen some
terrible things in France, Hugh.

I know I did.

I prefer to focus on the daffodils.

Personally...

..I've thought Ursula
should see a psychiatrist

ever since she pushed
the maid down the stairs.

Do you... Do you think that we
should mention that occurred?

It is odd.

Thrilling, but odd.

Emancipated hem lines?

What does it mean? She's a fool.

It will be a miracle if she meets
that child's train.

She'll forget about it.
She'll be off gallivanting.

Do you know why they're really
sending her to London?

They want a doctor to look
in her head?

They've realised she's touched.
What are you talking about?

I overheard a discussion.

She's not touched.
She's a bit of a worrier.

And so what?
Some people are born that way.

And it bespeaks great intelligence.

I have a belief about Ursula.

You remember she was born
not meant for this Earth.

The cord wrapped around her neck
like a serpent.

My belief is that Ursula is at least
partly of the spirit world.

Ha! How do you account for her
pushing me down the stairs

to save me from the influenza?

That was an inventive excuse
for mischief,

and I will account
for your nonsense right now.

Irish fiddle-faddle.

She has the sixth sense

and there's no doctor in the world
that can magic away that.

Ursula!

He seems to have very little
confidence in my abilities,

even though I managed to drive
an ambulance throughout the war,

sans mishap, in a foreign country,
no less.

Hang on.

Nervous? I'm fine.

CAR HORN

Oops.

So...

..I hear you tried to kill
your maid.

Tea?

I'm not Russian.

Far from it. I'm from Maidstone.

I visited St Petersburg
before the Revolution.

When I spoke to your mother
on the telephone,

she told me that you often dream
you're dying.

She told me that you once
confided in her

that you had been here before.

Is that right?

Do you think you have
been here before?

Sometimes I think that.

Tea?

You see, I remember you saying
"Tea?" to me before.

Just like that.

Yes, I said it last week.

Oh.

Of course.

Snow?

Yes.

Interesting.

Everything's familiar somehow...

..no matter where I am
or what I'm doing.

Inside, I have this terrible fear...

..all the time.

A darkness within?

From a scientific point of view,
perhaps the part of your brain

responsible for memory
has a little flaw.

A neurological problem

that leads you to think
you are repeating experiences.

So I'm not really dying
and being reborn.

I have no idea.

Perhaps there is a neurological blip
in your brain

that causes you to believe
you have been here before.

Perhaps you have been here before
and your dreams are memories

and reminiscences - premonitions.

We may never know.

Have you heard of Buddhism?

Perhaps you're remembering
another life.

Of course, the disciples
of the Buddha

don't believe you keep coming back
as the same person

in the same circumstances,
as you feel you do, but...

..most ancient religions
adhered to an idea of circularity.

The snake with its tail
in its mouth and so on.

Are you cured yet?

Must be by now. It's been an age.

Come on. I told your father
you'd catch a later train.

Let's have some fun.

# Sometimes I sit and sigh

# And then begin to cry

# Cos my best friend... #

You're turning out
to be quite pretty.

You must have it cut.

You should come and see my coiffeur.
He's really very good.

You're in danger of looking
like a milkmaid

when really, I think you're going to
turn out to be deliciously wicked.

Cigarette?

I'm ten.

# I'll tell you folks

# There ain't no change in me

# My love for that man

# Will always be

# Now I got the crazy blues

# Since my baby went away

# I ain't got no time... #

Listen, I know that I am
considered by your mother

mad, bad and dangerous to know,
but...

..I thought we could be special
chums. What do you think?

Pamela is a little dull,
all that tennis and cycling.

No wonder she has
such sturdy ankles.

Tres sportif, I'm sure, but still.

Oh, and the boys are... Well, boys.

But you are interesting, Ursula.

What do you think?

Yes.

Special chums.

Nice time with Izzie?

Yes.

Ta-da.

You did it.

Your mother considers it
ruinously expensive.

She's not to be trusted, you know.

Who? Izzie.

Press that.

ENGINE STARTS

Right.

The war has made your mother
parsimonious, I'm afraid.

If she had her way, we'd live
on her eggs and chickens.

Whereas I, on the other hand,
have seemed to become less prudent.

Not an admirable trait
for a banker, she says,

but still, carpe diem and so on.

Eh, little bear?

Ursula saw Dr Kellet
for several years.

Eventually, Sylvie and Hugh
decided that paying a man

to discuss life's mysteries
with their daughter

was no longer necessary.

Ursula was noticeably
more cheerful

and so considered cured.

On the morning of her 16th birthday,

the world felt crisp and fresh.

She was growing up.

CAR HORN

Ahoy!

Maurice was down for the weekend.

He was in his last year at Oxford,
where he was reading law.

Good show, coming for
Ursula's birthday.

Is it Ursula's birthday today?

Isn't that why you're here?

No. Coincidence.

Right.

Right, yes, do follow.

Ah, chaps, these are my brothers,
Teddy and Jimmy.

Gilbert, Howard, don't annoy them.

Call me Howie. Everyone does.

And there's my old mater.

You are far too young
to be anyone's mother.

I know.

Yet we have managed five children.

Sisters?

With names.

I'm Pamela. This is Ursula.

Gilbert and Howard, you'll have to
double up in Mrs Glover's old room.

Let me show you upstairs.
Call me Howie.

You can go top to tail.

All right.

Why are you so gimpy?

Twisted my ankle. Hockey game.

Huh.

THEY GIGGLE

THEY LAUGH

Slow down.

Sh.

I've seen a snail move quicker
than that.

The fact that Howie was American
gave him a special kind of glamour.

Pamela was more drawn to Gilbert,
which surprised Ursula.

She thought he looked
a bit undercooked.

Stop it! You stop that now!

Ooh! Ooh! Stop that.
THE GIRLS LAUGH

Meeeeaow! Woof, woof, woof! Woo!

Woof, woof, woof!

Whoa! Whoa!

That's actually my ball.

Watch this!

Hey, boys, you're playing
like a little girl. Come on!

Hey!

I say, they're rather
gorgeous, aren't they?

Can I have one?

It's the wrong kind of football!
We are not in America. Here we go.

URSULA LAUGHS

Who's that? Ursula loves this music.

Do you? I had no idea.

# I hate to see... #

That's far too grown-up!
Ursula wears flannelette.

# ..sun go down... #

St Louis Blues.

Listen to that cornet.

CORNET PLAYS

# I hate to see... #

Joie de Femme, new by Clermont.
Divine!

Far too grown-up. Will Ursula
be allowed to keep anything?

I really don't know.

Teddy, a dance? No.

Oh. Jimmy?

URSULA LAUGHS

And she's definitely
too young for that.

Where did you get the money
for all this?

The column doesn't pay that well.
Did you steal it?

Ooh, the jive is jumping.

We're hungry.

Mrs Glover, could you facilitate
nourishment for these young men?

HOWIE CHUCKLES

URSULA GIGGLES

Essence of stag.
Trucking mud everywhere.

Well, they didn't fight in the war.
That's a good thing.

No matter how unsatisfactory
they turn out.

Ooh!

LAUGHTER

CHEERING

Happy birthday, little bear.

Happy birthday!

This present is for Teddy.

Me? Yes, you, darling boy.

Go on, unwrap it. It won't explode.

"The Adventures of Augustus."

By Delphine Fox.

Mwah. Why is everything
an adventure with you?

Because life is an adventure,
of course.

I would say it's more
of an endurance race

or an obstacle course.

All right, dear.
Not that bad, surely.

That's Augustus.

I based him on you.

Me?!

I have a publisher.

I have money, Hugh.

You don't need to worry
about me any more.

DOOR SLAMS

HUGH AND SYLVIE ARGUE

Do you want to go for a walk?

It's a bore with my crutches.

I'm looking for the ball.
It was your kid brother's.

I think we lost it in the...
Shrubbery.

How old are you?

16.

It's my birthday.

You ate cake.

You're shivering.

It's freezing out here.
I can warm you up.

"Kiss" seemed too courtly a word
for what Howie was doing.

He prodded his enormous tongue
like an ox's

and she was amazed to realise
that he was expecting her

to open her mouth
and let the tongue in.

Howie!
URSULA GASPS

Howie!

Coming!

But she decided it didn't matter.

To be kissed on her 16th birthday,

and in such an overlooked way,

was still a considerable
accomplishment.

Ursula thought of Howie quite often.

It was not so much
the physical Howie

but the fact that he had been
thoughtful enough

to try and find Teddy's ball.

Hey, kid!

What are they doing here?
I don't know.

We're going to London
to help with the strike.

I didn't realise your politics put
you on the side of the workers.

What? No, no, no, no, no.

We're going to drive buses
and trains

and whatever else it takes
to keep the country running.

I didn't know you could
drive a train, Maurice.

I'll be a stoker, then - put the
coal in. It can't be that difficult.

They're not called stokers,
they're called firemen,

and it's a very skilled job.

I hear you didn't get into
Cambridge. Probably best.

We don't have enough scones.
For God's sake!

We need warning, Maurice.

I'm not hungry.

I was looking for a bathroom.

Well, we only have one.
It's not up these stairs...

Pretty girl.

No... Sh.

It's OK.

HOWIE GASPS

English girls,
you really are something.

Goodbye!

CAR HORN

Imbeciles.

What happened to
the good-looking one? Gilbert.

Sent down, apparently, for an
indiscretion. What indiscretion?

Well, the definition
of an indiscretion

is you don't talk of it afterwards.

Feel like going for a walk?

No. Thank you.

Are you all right? Mm-hm.

Weeks passed.

She took care to mask her misery.

Questions would have been
intolerable.

I need to talk to you about
something uncomfortable.

I know you've been out of sorts
all summer

and I expect you're probably nervous
with Pamela going away.

Things will be different.

However...

..we mustn't eat our worries.

It's just puppy fat. Even I had it.

But it won't go away by itself.
It has to be addressed.

SHE SOBS

I thought this was the express.

This is the London train.

I know it's odd, but...

..she just turned up
on the doorstep, the lamb.

I think she wanted to see me.

Pay a visit.

I'll take her to see some museums
and so on, and the theatre.

Nothing risque.

Now, don't be such
a mean old woman, Hugh.

Brandy and butter toast.

All I could rustle up at such
short notice, I'm afraid.

# ..what she's at

# She give a dance

# Every Friday... #

You're such a fool.

There are ways, you know?

Things one can do.

Prevention better than cure
and all that.

# The fun had just begun

# But she walks... #

No-one told Ursula
what would happen next.

Remove your shoes and undergarments.

Ursula supposed the baby
would come out

with a certain amount of difficulty.

She presumed it would be wrapped
in a shawl and placed in a cradle

before being given to a nice couple
who longed to have a baby

as much as Ursula longed
not to have one.

There was no sign of a cradle
waiting anywhere.

Up on the operating table
with your feet in the stirrups.

Stirrups? Up you get.

I'm having an operation?

But I'm not ill.

Count down from ten to one. Why?

Ten, nine...

..eight, seven...

..six...

Five.

Four.

Ooh!

IZZIE LAUGHS

There we are.

Shoes off.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Oxtail soup.

I got it from a tin! Ha!

Right...

..there we are.

Oh, God.

You're not cut out for this
sort of thing. It's all right.

URSULA RETCHES

SHE BREATHES HEAVILY

SHE GROANS

BANGING ON DOOR

Where is she?

In the bedroom. She's sleeping.
Hugh...

Hello, little bear.

You've got a bit of an infection.
We'll get you to a hospital.

Not the hospital.

I'll be prosecuted. Good!

I hope they jail you
and throw away the key!

You're all right.

Ursula.

How could you?

ETHEREAL MUSIC

URSULA GASPS

We'll say no more about this,
little bear.

We will tell people blood poisoning.

Devilled kidneys for strength?

You get into bed
and I'll bring them up.

Yes, go to your room, Ursula.

What's wrong with Mummy?

And you remember the night
she was born

and the cord wrapped around her
neck, and what did I say then?

I said God surely wants
that baby back

and now He's poisoned her blood.

He'll take her, you mark my words.

I'll be off if there's nothing more
I can do for you.

That's fine, Mrs Glover.

Good that she's home safe and sound.

Now, you'd think with an illness
like that and death at hand,

that it would make mother
and daughter closer,

but it's had the opposite effect.

And why would that be...

..George?

A mystery.

Blood poisoning?

How did you get blood poisoning?

I don't know.

Why did you just disappear like that

and then manifest at Izzie's
of all places?

I'm tired.

Can you turn off the light?

I'm off to university soon...

..then you won't have anyone
to talk to.

I was going to have a baby.

Howie.

Where?

In our room?

On the stairs.

It was strange.

Strange how?

There's really no use in
talking about this, so...

Izzie helped me with the baby.

An abortion? An illegal abortion?

Gosh, no wonder Mummy's angry.

Strange, how?

It was very...

..quick.

Did he force you?

You should tell.

What does it matter?

He's gone back to America.

I don't want to think
or talk about it any more.

Please.

I may as well see what
the chickens have left us.

I'll go with you.

I'm not going back to school.

I just can't.

I'll take a secretarial course.

I found one that's very reasonable.

I think that's very wise.

Also, I think I'd like
to see Dr Kellet again.

He's retired, I believe.

Did he leave a forwarding address?

I'm sorry.

Iterate.
TYPEWRITERS CLACK

Iterating.
TYPEWRITERS CLACK

Reiteration.
TYPEWRITERS CLACK

Reiterated.
TYPEWRITERS CLACK

Reiterating.
TYPEWRITERS CLACK

No peeking.

The only way to stop looking
at the keys

and slowing down your speeds

is to type blindfolded.

Dear sir.
TYPEWRITERS CLACK

I brought your letter
before the board of directors

at their meeting yesterday.

But after some discussion...

..they were obliged
to postpone further...

..consideration of the matter...

..until the next
directors' meeting...

..which will be held...

She got a job as a secretary
in a big importing company.

She made no friends.

Her first glass of wine
was an experiment.

It was a private act.

Intimate, solitary
and enormously comforting.

She was a secret drunk
in a matter of weeks.

MUSIC: Black Bottom Stomp
by Jelly Roll Morton

Oh, my. How awful for you.
Let me help you.

The day Ursula met Derek Oliphant,
she was stone-cold sober.

She simply hadn't seen
the pavement slab.

Her hands were full
of grocery shopping,

acquired hastily in a lunch hour,

and her instinct was to save
the groceries rather than herself.

You have blood all over
your nice peach scarf.

Is that the colour?

Or is it salmon?

Three months later,
Ursula and Derek were married.

"She's mistaken gratitude for love,"
Sylvie thought as she watched them.

Sylvie had married Hugh
when she was 18,

not long after her family
descended into poverty.

She had met him at
the post office counter -

a rising star in the prosperous
world of banking.

The epitome of bourgeois
respectability.

She was beautiful but penniless.

Hugh had offered her a life.

In sickness and in health.
URSULA: In sickness and in health.

To love, cherish and obey.

To love, cherish and obey.

Till death do us part.

Till death do us part.