All language subtitles for Doc Martin - 06x03 - The Tameness of a Wolf.FoV.English.updated.Addic7ed.com

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Doc. Door!
Door!

What the hell is that?
Door!

Before ten.

We found him on the beach. I think
he's got hypothermia or something.

Well, stop thinking.
Get him into the consulting room.

Careful.

Do you know this man?
No, never seen him before.

He were just lying there.
I thought he were dead.

Is he dead?
No.

Are you sure?
Go away.

Hello?

Can you hear me?

Can you tell me your name?
Is everything all right?

You ever seen this man before?

No. Sorry.
Thirsty.

Can you get him a drink of water?
I must get James dressed.

Fine, I'll fetch you
a glass of water.

Got to go now.
No, you don't.

You stay there. You were found
unconscious on the beach.

Can you tell me how that happened?

Sorry, I've got to go up there.
Yes.

You appear to be dehydrated.

Drink this.

And stay there while I get dressed.

Morwenna!

Morwenna!

Al, what are you doing?
I'm moving in.

It's a bit early. I wanted to
catch you before you went to work.

It's not for hours.
You know it's quarter to eight?

What? Oh, God.

Morwenna?

Can you tell me your name?
Robert.

Full name?
Robert Campbell.

Do you know where you are,
Mr Campbell?

Cornwall.
More specifically?

Portwenn.

Are you Dr Ellingham?

I am.
Are you registered at this practice?

No. Not yet.

Who's your GP? I don't have one.
I've been on the move.

You were unconscious
when they found you.

Has that happened before?
Not so far as I'm aware.

I really have to go.

Sit back now. Sit back.

Breathe deeply.

Do you feel light-headed?
I'm fine.

Been a little tired, that's all.

There's a world of difference
between being tired and passing out.

Do you live here with your family?
That's not your concern.

But there are
a few of you around here?

Ellingham?
I'll take some blood now.

When did you last eat something?
I had some breakfast.

Yesterday.
Your blood-sugar levels could be
low.

Who's that I can hear upstairs?

Stop talking.
Your wife?

Mother? Aunt?

Be quiet.

Take Mr Cornwall's details.
I'll be down in a minute.

Take your time. I need a cup of tea.

Right. Hold on a sec.

- Portwenn surgery.
- Oh, hello, how are you?

No, I said how are you?

I think you're meant
to rub it on your rash.

Your rash.

No, I don't suppose
it did taste very nice.

Sorry, I won't be long, Mr -

How rude.

Yeah. No, I'm not coming round.

Look. Yum, yum, yum.

Morning.
Oh, Mike, hello.

You're early.
I'm bang on time.

Are you?

Hello.
No, it's fine. I can manage.

Hello, Doc.
Michael.

So I thought we'd go
to Minnie's playtime at the library.

I don't think that starts
till next week.

It started last Monday.

I don't want him
cooped up inside all day.

We'll be on the beach later. Should
be good weather for sand castles.

Put sun block. He'll need sun block.
Packed it. Factor 50.

OK.
Come on, then, sonny Jim.

It's James, actually.
And you'll be back at five, yeah?

On the dot.
And you won't be late?

No.

Bye, my darling. See you later.

See you all later.
Bye.

You know that sign's there
for a reason? What could that be?

To stop you from parking.
Not doing a very good job, then.

If you don't to move your car,
I'll issue a fixed-penalty notice.

Oh, I should just be two minutes.

Really?
Absolutely.

Seeing as it's you, Dr Ellingham.
Thank you so much.

Ow!
Careful.

Be quiet.
How long have you been in pain?

It's been hurting all night
and all morning.

I've been sick three times.
We had a meal at Bert's yesterday.

Sunday lunch.
It tasted funny.

What did you eat?
I had some fish.

Sea bass, it said on the menu -
Not you. What did you eat?

Roast chicken.
Do you think it's food poisoning?

It's always a possibility.
I'd need to examine a stool sample.

Can you provide me with one?
What's that?

Poo-poo.
Mum!

Not to worry.
I'll give you a container

and the next time you go to
the lavatory put a small piece of...

poo-poo in it
and let the receptionist have it.

Mrs Wead just dropped this off.
She said Becky's ill,

but can you read this and give
her the OK to start printing?

I'll read it later. Becky wants
to hear back from you by lunchtime.

Oh, does she?
Yeah, well, I'm just popping out.

Everything OK?
Yeah, fine.

And now another blue one on top.

Oh, hello. You OK?

Yeah, me. You?
Great.

Yeah, we're having a lovely time,
ain't we?

Hey, do you think
Mummy's checking up on us?

No, no. I just had to pop back
for something.

This looks fun.

Shall we put this on the top?

Shall we? Look.

There.
Um...

Louisa...
What?

Well, it's blue on top.

Does it matter?

No.

Well, yeah.

Why?
Well, they're in order, aren't they?

OK.

Happy now?

Yeah.

OK. On with the red row.

Ruth, please.

Radio Portwenn has survived
many years without me.

We've had letters, postcards
and email, would you believe?

The listeners loved you.
Even so, I don't think

psychiatric advice should be
dispensed in 60-second sound bites.

But you do it so well -
with wit, warmth, compassion.

And it's so rare to have
a proper expert in the studio.

Most of the people know less than me
about their so-called speciality.

The gardening guru
is allergic to soil.

The newsreader is dyslexic.

And there's no-one around here who
has a fraction of your expertise

when it comes to dealing with
mental people.

People with mental-health issues.
They need you.

We all need you.
This is your chance to help us.

You're putting me
in a very awkward position.

I know. Is it working?

Possibly.

You lost something?
Those cups.

With the saucers, bottom right.

I hope you don't mind.
I moved things round a bit more.

You might find the drawers
are a little different too. Sorry.

It seems logical.

You're OK with how I'm doing,
ain't you?

I mean, if there's anything
you don't like, just tell me.

No, I can have a cup of coffee now.

Is Louisa all right?

Yes.

She had a cup of tea earlier.

Your first patient's here, Doc.
All right.

Morning.
Hello, Morwenna.

Morwenna.

Morwenna!

Are you feeling better?
Not too bad, thanks.

Is that the school newspaper?
Yeah.

I haven't approved it yet.
You said you'd read it yesterday.

But you didn't
and I couldn't wait any longer.

Well, you should have done.
How many copies have you handed out?

Loads. And I've delivered quite
a few to the shops, cafes, pubs.

I told you I was going to.
After I've given my approval.

Where did you get them printed?
I used my dad's photocopier.

Becky, you're going to stop handing
these out until I've read it.

But that's censorship!
Yes, it is.

Now, pick up that box
and come with me.

I'm very cross with you
cos you have not listened.

So, how was your first night
without me, then?

I can't lie, boy. I miss seeing
your toothbrush next to mine.

Here, put that out
and go peel some potatoes.

Oh. Yeah.
Here, have you seen this?

What?
It's the Portwenn Junior Journal.

I found a pile of them
on the steps this morning.

There's a review of our restaurant.
Is it good?

It's by a Becky Wead.
She says, er...

"Roast chicken dinner
was the most disgusting meal

I've ever had
the misfortune to consume."

So, not good.

It gets worse.

"I was sick throughout the night
and all the next morning,

poisoned by the unhygienic
food preparation."

Poisoned? She can't say poisoned.
I think that's libel.

Or is it slander?
Either way, it's bad for business.

We need an apology and damages.

Frankly, I'm surprised you allowed
this rubbish to be published.

I didn't actually see the review
before it was printed.

And I wouldn't have allowed it
into the paper if I had.

Everything I wrote was true.
Food poisoning?

That's what Doc Martin said.
You could have got it anywhere.

You know, Mr Large and Mr Large

have a business
that might suffer because of this.

Good.
Good? Little -

Leave this to me. Go back to class.
I'll have a word with you later.

I'm not happy, Louisa.
I want a full retraction.

I will sort this out, Bert.
Well, if you don't,

your people
are going to hear from our people.

We don't have any people.
Shut up.

We could have pretended.
She knows we can't afford lawyers.

Here, hang on a minute.
I think I know her.

Do you?
Yeah. I'm sure I do.

I'll see you later, boy.

I'm going down the hill to get fish.
Could you get me a sausage?

No.

I'm out of Primidone.
I know.

Did you get some more? No.
Till the chemist's is open again.

Is Mrs Tishell back?
Someone else is running the place

till she gets out.
I was going to go there tomorrow

I'll go myself. Today.

All right.

Bert! Nice to see you
round these parts again...

Jennifer.
Jenny. Right.

That weekend in Polperro.
Penzance. And Penberth.

Oh, yes.

You should have kept in touch, Bert.

I got married.
Yeah, so I heard.

You can tell a lot about a person
from how they keep their shop.

Everything here
is all over the place.

You've changed a bit.
Bit more curvy.

Ditto.

If you need a hand moving into
the upstairs flat, my boy will help.

Mrs Tishell told my agency
that it's private property.

So I've rented a room
in the Crab and Lobster.

Oh, that's a bit pricey.
I've got a place up the hill.

It's a B&B. It's a lovely room.
Free at the moment.

I don't know. The Crab can be noisy,
especially Saturday nights.

It is a nice idea.
It is, isn't it?

Oh, hello, Doc.
Jenny, this is Doc Martin.

Doc Martin, this is our lovely
new pharmacist, Jenny Cardew.

Yes. I need some provisions.
We're not serving till tomorrow.

Oh, I'm sure Jenny can make
an exception for you, Doc.

So am I.

Right.

Prednisone coming up.
Prednisone? Good God, woman.

I have clearly written Primidone.

Oh.
That could be fatal.

Have you? Let's see.

Well, it might help
if you wrote in capital letters.

It might help
to get your eyes tested.

I knew you two would hit it off.

Hm. Right.

Here, Doc. I need to talk to you
about Becky Wead.

There's no time.
I have to buy an onion.

Did you tell her
she got food poisoning from me?

I can't discuss my patients with you.
Hang on! I need to sort this out.

Oh...

Pollock.
Hi.

Sold out of everything else.
Say hello to Daddy. "Hello, Daddy."

Becky Wead wrote a terrible review
of Bert's restaurant.

Bert wants an apology.
It's a terrible restaurant.

A terrible review seems appropriate.
It's not that bad.

Although the chicken
wasn't very good, allegedly.

It gave her food poisoning.
That's just a possibility.

So it might not be Bert's fault?
I can't discuss my patients.

I haven't had the test results back.
Even then, I can't discuss them.

That's not much help, is it?
Louisa, you seem rather tense.

Of course I'm tense.
You've no idea what it's like

me leaving James with a stranger,
trying to work

and counting the minutes
till I can get home.

I told you
you went back to work too early.

Don't start.

To makes things worse, James
has decided he doesn't need food.

Don't worry.
He ate an enormous breakfast

followed by an even bigger lunch.
Oh.

Well, good for Michael.

Morning.
Shh.

He should be awake now.
He had a bad night. So did we.

Go through.

The sooner you get him into
a routine, the better for everyone.

Ruth, hi.
Hi.

To what do we owe this pleasure?
I had half an hour to kill.

I felt like a coffee

and I thought you might like
to wish me a happy birthday.

It's your birthday?
Ruth, happy birthday.

What are you doing to celebrate?
What I always do.

Absolutely nothing.

Martin.
Hm?

Um...

Yes, I could take you to lunch.

All right. Pick me up at 12:30.

I'm busy all morning.
What are you doing?

Broadcasting live on Radio Portwenn.
Oh, not that awful phone-in?

No, Martin,
I'm reading the football results.

I think she was joking.

I see.

'Followed by Ask The Gardener
with Gordon Spelling,

who is back from sick leave
and raring to go.'

'But next on Radio Portwenn, it's
the return of Dr Ruth Ellingham,

who will be offering advice
to anyone who needs it.'

Louisa! Louisa!

Do you want to walk together?
I'd love to, but I'm late.

I've got to get a move on.
Oh, bye-bye, darling.

Bye-bye, sweetie. See you later.
Bye.

What have you done about
that newspaper? I haven't had time.

Meanwhile, anyone that visits
Portwenn can read that my restaurant

is not safe to eat in.
Have your bookings gone down?

They've not gone up.
And that newspaper's full of lies.

It's actually libel.
Then do something about it!

I don't have any time, Bert.
And I don't have any customers!

You never did, Bert!

'I mean, what's the point? I feel
like life's not worth living.'

'What's there to look forward to?'
Oh, come on, Sheila.

There's plenty of things
to look forward to.

There's the Steam Fair,
there's the Flower Show,

and the Portwenn musical players

are giving us their Oklahoma
next month.

Hello?

I'm afraid we've lost Sheila.
So let's try our next caller.

Perhaps I should speak to this one.

Of course, Dr Ruth.
Dr Ellingham, please.

'Hello, Dr Ellingham.
Can you hear me?'

Yes, she can. What -
What's your name?

'Call me Bob.'
And what's your problem, Bob?

There's a woman.
'Isn't there always?'

I've known her for years.
She means everything to me,

and I wanted - 'I have nothing
to say about affairs of the heart.'

Not that we're trying
to get rid of you.

Yes, we are. I'm sure Dr Ruth
would like to offer some advice.

Advice is like snow.

The softer it falls,
the longer it dwells upon.

'And the deeper
it sinks into the mind.'

'I can't remember who said that.'

Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Well, Bob,

I suppose if I had to, I'd suggest
that you speak to this woman.

'Tell her how you feel.'

Face to face?

That's always best.
And she will feel the same about me?

'She will love me?'

I can see Dr Ruth nodding her head.
Who do we have on line three?

Oh. Hello, Bethany.
'Can you hear me?'

Spit it all out, Beth.

There's no doubt you have an ulcer.

The only question is whether
it's gastric or duodenal.

You said it was food poisoning.
No, I didn't.

I'll make an appointment
for you to have an endoscopy.

You agreed it was
because of the chicken.

No, I didn't.
Tell him, Mum.

I think you did actually mention
the possibility that it could be.

The possibility, yes, but not the
certainty or even the probability.

Do you know the difference?
Don't talk to my mum like that.

I'll talk how I want.
It's my surgery.

The tests on your faeces
rule out food poisoning.

Is there any part of that sentence
either of you is struggling with?

Good. Take this and go away.

Oh!

Oh, you gave me a shock.

Why? You knew I was coming.
Well, yes, I did.

Thanks for the cake.

That's nothing to do with me.

I don't like cake.

Come on.

So, someone's been in the house.

Perhaps it's one of your friends.
I don't have friends in Cornwall.

And who'd know it's my birthday?
I don't know.

Maybe you announced it on the radio.
You heard my programme?

Of course not.
I made no announcement on the radio.

It's not uncommon to experience
memory lapses at your age.

Perhaps you told a neighbour
and then forgot.

Well, happy birthday to me.

PC Joseph Penhale. 3021.

Is it a matter of life and death?
I am on my refreshment break.

Sorry, but is it vital that you get
through that gate right now?

I don't think it's appropriate
to speak to an officer of the law

in that manner.

If you repeat that threat,
I could actually arrest you.

I hope you're not driving anywhere.
I hadn't planned to.

Good.

Perhaps I have a secret admirer.

Is that a realistic proposition?
You seem not to think so.

However, a red rose is
a classic symbol of romantic love

and one appeared on my car
the other day.

It's just possible
I have a rather amorous stalker.

That's just wishful thinking.
Oh, Martin, you know very well

people are surprisingly eclectic
in their sexual inclinations.

Eclectic? That's one word for it.

Want me to come around tonight?
I don't.

You haven't touched your fish.
Uh, no.

Something wrong?
No, I'm fine.

Martin...

I'm fine.

Possibly a slight problem with blood.

Haemophobia?

I'm sure it's nothing.
It'll disappear again.

And if it doesn't?

I have a name. Names.
People you can talk to.

I'm sure it'll go.

Possibly.

Stay back.

Yeah, two o'clock tomorrow.
Next patient.

Message from Truro hospital.

Doc, it's my leg.
It's acting up again.

It can wait and so can you. It's
the blood test for Robert Campbell.

Doc?
Mr Miller,

I'm not going to examine your leg
in the reception room.

Go through
to the consulting room and wait.

Campbell?
I know who he is.

The bloke they found on the beach.
He's got type-2 diabetes.

I know that. Get him in.
I can't. I don't know where he is.

You took his details down.
I tried, but -

Well, find him.
How am I meant to do that?

OK, thank you for your help.

Joe? It's Morwenna.
I need you to find someone for me.

It might look OK to you, Doc,
but to me it feels gammy.

Gammy.

No calls!

Have you twisted it lately?

Doc, pick up! It's urgent.

Hello?
Hello, Doc. It's Penhale.

Yes, Penhale, what is it?
Do you know a Barry Nugent?

Runs a dairy farm up a New Cross.

His gate's been blocked by this car.
I was told this call was urgent.

And there's this bloke, Robert
Campbell been sleeping in the car.

Robert Campbell's a patient.
Is he there?

Not as such. But I'm a little bit
confused because I found a diary

and it's got some rather unsavoury
comments about your aunt Ruth.

Is it Campbell's diary?
I assume so.

It seems he's quite an obsessive
sort of character.

Somebody left a birthday cake
in her kitchen.

Oh, that's nice.

Go to Ruth's farm as quickly
as you can. I'll meet you there.

Doc?
I haven't got time. I'll call you.

Oh!

I'm so sorry, Dr Ellingham.

Did I scare you?

Mr Campbell.
Please, Dr Ellingham.

Call me Bob.

I knew you'd recognise
my voice on the radio.

Thank you for making it clear
what you wanted.

I'm afraid I don't really know
what you're talking about.

Tell her how you feel,
face to face?

How did you find me?
You left so many clues in your book.

And that photograph.

That smile.

You know I've loved you
ever since we first met.

Four years, five months,
three weeks.

I don't blame you for telling them
it wasn't safe to let me go.

They had to change their minds
eventually.

Now we can start our new life,
together.

Where are you going?
Just downstairs.

I didn't lock the doors

and we don't want to be disturbed,
do we?

No.
I want to protect you, Bob.

Keep you safe.

I'll just go down to the kitchen.

I've locked every door,
every window.

The phone's discon -

What are you doing?
Just making sure it's switched off.

Which it is.
Why don't we have a cup of tea?

Then you can tell me what
you've been up to since we last met.

Nothing.
I've done nothing since... you know.

Even so, I'd like to sit down
and have a talk.

We're going to have a bath.
Of course we are.

But why don't we have
a cup of tea first?

We have all the time in the world.

You called someone!
No, no. I promise.

But you love me. You said you did.
When did I -

On the radio.
"She will feel the same as I do."

"She will love me"
and you nodded your head.

We have to be alone!

We have to!

Psst!

OK. I got eyes on a male icy one,
who's inside with your aunt.

I didn't show myself. I want
to know more about this man first.

As far as I'm aware, he's a stalker
with a history of mental illness.

Dangerous? Violent?
Quite possibly.

We need backup. Swat team,
chopper cover, armed response.

Could you get all that?
No.

Idiot.

Ruth?

Where are you?

It's just my nephew, Martin.
You can't be sure who it is.

It's me, Martin!

There you are.
He only wants to say hello.

We can't be sure if he's alone.
Oh, I'm sure he is.

Look, why don't we sit down?

Come on.

It's perfectly safe now.

'Two armed officers
to the north of the building.'

'One to the south.
I want a sniper on the roof.'

And keep the dogs in reserve until
I give the word to release them.

The dogs are in position. Do you
want me to release the helicopter?

Penhale, shut up.
Sorry.

Sorry.
You're making it worse.

Try going in through the door.
I can't see anything in the windows.

It's locked.
I'll find a way in round the back.

Don't worry, Doc. We'll get her out.

Ruth!

If you come through that door,
I will kill you.

Do you hear me? I will kill you.

Get out.

No. I'm worried about my aunt.

And about you.
There's nothing wrong with me.

Yes, there is.
You have type-2 diabetes.

You're lying.
Oh, you must listen to my nephew.

He knows what he's talking about.
I need to take your sugar level,

give you insulin
and get you to hospital.

I'm going nowhere.
Tell him, Dr Ellingham.

Oh, of course I will, Bob.
But before he goes,

I wonder if perhaps
he might not help you.

Do you really think that insulin is
the best thing for Bob right now?

What the hell are you talking about?
I thought perhaps Largactil

might do a better job.
Or Benzodiazepine?

Yes. I agree.

Well, at least the policeman
shut up. That's good, isn't it?

You don't think
he's planning something? I doubt it.

You mustn't leave me.
I won't, Bob.

If that's what you want.

You were always very kind to me,
Dr Ellingham.

I'm ready.
Oh, please let him do this, Bob.

Tell him to go away.
I think you'd better do as he says.

Leave you alone with a psychopath?
I'm not a psychopath.

I am not a psychopath.

Want me to prove it?

Uh... No. I believe you.

Then go.

Let the knife go!
You let go!

I will kill you.
Ow!

I love you!

I knew it.

If you truly love me, too,

you'd drop that knife.

Argh!

I don't feel very well.

Nobody move! Armed police!

I've got a baton.
Oh, for God's sake.

Is this the loony? Stay down!

If you attempt to get up,
you will be tasered.

I've left it in the car.
Could you get it?

No.
Dr Ellingham.

I love you.

Not me. He means her.

Am I right in assuming
he's a former patient?

Yes. De Clerambault's syndrome.

A paranoid illusion
with amorous fixations.

Probably made worse by the diabetes.

I'll make you a cup of tea.
I'm not going back in that kitchen.

What? Ever?
Well, certainly not tonight.

I've been out here long enough.

Tomorrow I'll look
for somewhere in the village.

You really don't
have to worry about him.

He'll be locked up for years.

By the time he gets out,
you'll... you'll have gone away.

Fingers crossed.

Louisa.
Hi, Bert.

What's happening with the newspaper?
Well...

I've thought about it.
And I've decided not to do anything.

It's just a school newspaper.
You've done nothing?

Well, what I've done
is to allow an intelligent girl

to write an article criticising
a meal she didn't enjoy very much.

I know, but -
I can see it from your viewpoint.

And I'm sorry if you think
Becky's been unfair.

But she is ten.
I haven't poisoned anyone.

Not for ages, anyway.

Would it help if we put an advert
into the next edition?

OK.
Great. We'll do that, then.

But I want a photograph
of the restaurant.

And the menu. And maybe a voucher.

I can take the photo myself,
but you pay for the printing.

Gosh, what a day. How's your hand?

No, it's fine.
Are you sure you're all right?

Yes. I'm fine. How was your day?
Yeah, good.

I bumped into Bert.
Found myself defending Becky Wead.

Freedom of the press, fair comment.
That sort of thing.

Quite right. She's written something
about you now.

What?

"A bedside manner is a concept
completely alien to Dr Ellingham."

"He's patronising, abrasive,

and completely disempathetic."
It's not even a word.

I know, Martin. But apart from that,
I think it's very well written

for a ten-year-old.

Yes.

Are you sure you're all right?
You look very pale.

I'm fine. Thank you.

♪ Nobody likes me
Everybody hates me

♪ I think I'll go and eat worms ♪

Come back in five days.

What if I drop dead before then?
We'll cancel the appointment.

Show me your tattoo.
Which one?

You've got more than one?
Oh, joke.

Like what you see?

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