All language subtitles for Obituary (2023) S01E05

His seizures
were getting worse.

And the doctor begged him
to stop driving, but...

Sylvester was Sylvester.

I'm sure the coroner will
confirm the same.

I'm very sorry, Mary.

And that's it?

You're sorry?

No, like...

Like, I'm... I'm very sorry.

Rose...

.. you said you found him at
the turn-off to Kildee.

Coming from work, that's
the long way home, so...

Why was he even there?

Traffic. Spare me!

He was on his way
to meet someone.

Lookit...

Now, we don't know that.

You can find out.

You can get
his phone records.

I want to meet his tart,

and you're going to help me
find her. Mary!

Getting those phone records
could take weeks.

Maybe even months.
It won't help you, like.

If there's one thing I learned
being married to Sylvester,

it's patience.

I'll wait.

Elvira!

Elvira...

Elvira Clancy!

Why did you run away?

These editorial meetings.

It's like our weekly
public flogging.

Have you got anything for him?
Uhm...

Yeah, good for you.
I'm screwed.

My pal Maria and I have hit
another brick wall.

Then do what I do.

Revisit your notes,
start afresh.

You know, I'm actually
so glad you said that.

Cos see... I interviewed
your dad a while back.

And I asked him what time
he got home that night.

And he said it was after 11,
and that you could confirm it.

So... can you?

Are you saying
you don't believe my dad?

Whoa!

What... no! Are you saying
I shouldn't ask the question?

No, no. The question is okay.

It's how you're asking it, I don't
like. Well, how am I asking it?

Like you've been rehearsing it
all morning.

Ah, you really do miss nothing.

It's my job. Which makes you...

Frightening? Fascinating.

So you can confirm that
he came home at 11?

Because if you can't--
Who says I can't?

You did. No.

I said, I didn't like how you
asked the question.

Not that I couldn't answer it.

It still doesn't answer
the question! Careful.

The last thing Dad needs is for
me to get caught in a lie.

I'll have a think.

Should be easy enough to clear up.

Right...

Who's got the gold dust?

Over to you, Kate.

Okay, the Tidy Towns Committee
has been disbanded.

Let me guess. Another sex scandal?
Worse.

When they're not balls-deep running
rubbish in their back gardens,

our recent poll found 80%
of people in our town

think the community clean-ups
are a waste of time.

It's a bit downbeat though, isn't
it?

We need something--
Okay, how about this?

A local farmer started spray-
painting black lines on his sheep.

According to him, it repels
the flies. How is that a story?

It's not. But he told a load
of American tourists

that the sheep were crossed
with zebras.

And they fell for it? Paid 20
quid each for a selfie!

I dunno. I think keep digging.

One more thing.

Emerson...

I've something right up your street.

Dolly Stenson.

Lives by the woods.
She was robbed.

And this sort of story
is meat and drink around here.

So I want a thousand words
for the next edition.

That's not possible, Hughie.
It's money in your pocket.

It's only words!

Now...

Lovely, grand.
Thanks very much.

Okay. Slán...

Right, back to work.
Actually, I have something.

Would it be okay if you held
a section of the paper for me?

Who died? I can't tell you yet.

Sorry. Yet?

So they're still alive?

But you know they're going to die,
this very week?

Have you any idea how weird
that sounds?

There's someone in your office.

I'll go check. Sit.

Hello?

Hughie Burns? That's me.

Where do you want them?

I don't.

Did you ever find that person who
wrote those nasty letters?

Yes. They're dead now.

It's too long, isn't it?

But trying to decide what to cut
from Andrew's life is-- Impossible.

It's okay. I'll fix it.

I know you don't let family memories
write obituaries,

but it would mean the world to us,
if it was in our own words.

So people would understand why.

I asked the editor to reserve space.

I'm sure once I explain,
he'll be fine.

Good. Right well, could you sit
with him for a moment?

I want to tell the neighbours to
take the bins out while we're away.

And don't be afraid to chat to him.

He's still got that wicked
sense of humour.

One blink for no,
two blinks for yes.

#

At last!

The dirty bastard!

"Mal here. Leave a message.
Go---"

What you wrote, it's lovely.

Can I get you anything?

You know, I tried to kill myself
once.

I couldn't quite seal the deal,
like you're about to.

It's weird.

Here I am, desperately needing
advice and you can't--

I can tell you anything,
and you can't say a word, right?

Okay...

Well, as I said...

.. I tried to kill myself.

Only my best friend found me,
but,

instead of doing something,
she left me for dead.

And then there's her boyfriend.

I can't explain it, but...

He likes me,
and when I'm with him,

I'm happy.

And believe me, the world's
a safer place when I'm happy.

Look, I'm not saying I'd...

.. kill her.

But the thought
has crossed my mind.

So what's your take on it?

Sorry, say that again?

You're saying I should...
you know...

Wow...

That is a surprise.

Huh.

So are you excited
for Switzerland?

The-the assisted suicide.

You...

You don't want to die?

Is your wife making you do this?

You want to live?

#

You're... you're pulling the piss.

Oh, so let me guess.
Earlier you were joking

about me and my friend?

Yeah, I was joking too.

I'd never hurt anyone.

You understand that, yeah?

Yeah?

Good chat, this.

You know what you're about to do,
dying with dignity?

Not many people get to do that.

So how was he?

I couldn't shut him up.

#

Boy or girl? Girl.

Had it a name?
Are you being smart?

No, of course not. No.

You don't name geese. Ever!

Look at her. She's in bits.

They mate for life, you know?

I think that's swans.
Oh, you're a vet now too, yeah?

Let me tell you something,
she's not the first thing

stolen off this farm.
Look, I'm sorry.

But we can't rule out a fox.

Or maybe she escaped
on her own.

He's not listening to Dolly,
is he?

She was stolen, alright?

Or is this some big joke to you?

The country bumpkin
who cried wolf again.

Again?

Cars in the night.

Lights in the sky.
I see things.

Tell them to the Guards,
but they laugh at me.

Here, what's with that? Just some
notes for the story. Tell me--

No, no, no. I say nothing to the
press, until the press does its job.

But I've got a thousand words to
write.

Bring her home to me,
and you'll get ten thousand!

#

Come on, Hughie.
Give me something.

'Maria, you are my shining light
in a dull, black world.'

Dear God man,
what were you thinking?

"A literal wild goose chase. Just to
distract me from Maria Riedle.

Well, it could be worse."
How so?

"I could be stuck looking through
a bunch of Clive's old files

that I've already looked through."

Stay out of my office.

"Make me." Fine.

But remember...

You've no idea where
this Dolly thing might lead.

"Is that right, yeah?"

You might have
the story of your life,

right in front of you.

"Yeah."

#

Jaysus!

Ughhh!

Hey girl... come on.

Come on...

It's okay...

Whoa, Jaysus!

'If you're reading
this, I'm dead.'

'RIP me.'

'You're probably wondering,

how desperate does
a dying man get,

in his search for a killer?'

'Enough to ask the unimaginable.

What if Maria isn't
the only victim?'

'I know, desperate!'

'But if a killer gets away with it,

who is to say
they won't do it again.'

'This is a collection
of every curious death in town

since Maria's murder.'

'If there's a clue to be found,

I'll find it.

If not, I died trying.'

Poor deluded fool.

#

What happened your hand?

Let's just say those girls in school
won't be calling you those names

EVER again.

I have sandwiches,
if you're hungry.

Yeah! I'm SO hungry.

I'm fucking starved.

#

I just can't do it.

Emerson Stafford,
Kilraven Chronicle.

I was hoping you wouldn't mind
if I looked around your farm,

briefly-- I'm looking for a goose.

"We've another problem.
Another journalist. Stafford."

Yeah, what does he want?

"Ah, he made up some bullshit
about a goose.

Asked to look around the farm."

Think he knows anything
about the rifle?

"I only know this is getting
fucked up, Ward.

Fix it. Or I'll fix you."

Fix me how?

"You saw what I did to that prick
in the post office.

And judging by your nose,

I'm not sure I could take
another beating."

Cheeky prick.
Here! That's my machine.

Go on to fuck.

Move! Can I just--

Good luck.

Fuck's sake!

I need the jacks.

During training, they told us
to interview people

when they needed the loo.

A full bladder has a way
of making folks talk.

Talk about what? Why have you
dragged me in here?

When I was a girl, I found out
my father was playing around.

I told my mother.

Do you know what she did?

Forgave him,
and never forgave you.

Since then,

I swore to stay out of other
people's personal business.

Until now.

Because now, Mallory,

I have no choice.

Identify that, please.

An aubergine.
No, it's not.

Okay, an eggplant.
I said, it's not!

You said it's not what.
An aubergine or an eggplant?

Well, they're the same thing.
That's my point.

It's neither of those things.
It's both of those things.

It's not, I said! Yes, it is!
It's a cock!

Christ, woman. What kind of cocks
have you been dealing with?

Sylvester McHugh?

His widow Mary, has been at
me to look into this thing further

on a more personal basis.

Now, what bothers Mary is this.

What dragged Sylvester out of his
way that fateful night, huh?

The thing is, I just got
his phone records.

The night he died,
Sylvester got a text,

from your number.

That cock thing.
You've cock on the brain.

It's an invite for sex.

At 9.17, Sylvester replied
with two messages.

Both to your number,

saying, 'The usual place,
20 minutes.'

I didn't send those texts. And yet,
they came from your phone!

I swear on my life.
Then who did?

Rose, you know what his wife
will do to me?

She'll kick me out.

I've lost my dole,
I can't afford any other rent.

Sylvester... was my landlord.

He offered me a good deal.

I'm sorry...

But you are going to have
to tell Mary yourself.

I can't-- I cannot be the one
to ruin her life.

She'll never look at me
the same again.

How long do I have?
To tell Mary the truth?

No, to find the real texter. Get
them to confess. Fuck's sake!

Fine.

24 hours.

You're working late.

Well, the Great Goose Chase
won't write itself.

You weren't at my house,
were you?

I don't even know where you live.
Well, somebody was.

Well, it wasn't me.

You know, I'm a lot closer
than you think.

To catching that goose?
To finding her killer.

Well now... that's funny,

because however close
you think you are,

I'm closer.

How close?

That close.

Goodnight.

Fuck! Fuck.

Check his meds?

I'm so glad you texted.

I am mortified!

Why?

Saying that shit about you
and Emerson.

I'm worse.

The stuff I said,
the things I thought.

Let's move on.

Even better?

Let's get drunk.

#

Do you think losing your mother
changed you?

Because...

I think it changed me.

I think it's why I steal.

To make up for what was
stolen from me.

Like, look what I stole from you.

The night I first met Emerson,
you were going there

because you thought
it was a date.

That's not true.

And I couldn't help myself.

I took him from you.

That's what that fight was about,
how I owe you.

Think about it. You practically ran
out of the pub that night.

No, my dad was sick.

I had to go.

Yeah, that's right.

And your phone died.

#

Weirdest thing happened to me today.
I ended up in the cop shop.

Oh my God, why? Do you remember
Sylvester McHugh?

How he died? An epileptic seizure
on the side of the road.

What's that got to do
with the guards?

Do you know what that is?
A cock.

No...

Yeah. It's a cock.

The night that Sylvester died,
he got a text from my phone

only I didn't send it.

No? No.

It was that night...

.. that you, me and Emerson
had a drink.

And you left early because
your dad was sick.

Can you remember?

Was anyone at my phone?

I'm sure we can figure this out.

First, I just need the loo.

What's so funny?

That guard today.
She said you should always

interview people when
they're busting for the jacks.

A full bladder makes people talk.

Oh.

She. Fucking. Knows.

Okay. Off you pop.

I have sandwiches,
if you're hungry.

Yeah. I'm SO hungry.

I'm fucking starved.
Is peanut butter okay?

No, I'm allergic.

One bite, and you've got
a dead Mallory on your hands.

Fancy a few tunes?

What I fancy, is a Chinese.

Oh! I'll have my usual.

Mixed vegetable Szechuan.

Hope you're hungry. Hungry?

I'm fucking starved.

What's it like?

Usual veggie shite, you?

Stunning.

So this Sylvester emoji.
That's really bugging me.

Me too. No, the song.
You know, it drives me nuts.

Change it then.

Okay, what I'm thinking is,

someone must have sent
the text from my phone.

Probably when my back
was turned.

Of course that means they'd have
to know my password.

God, this thing has
my head wrecked.

For a second there,
I thought it might even be you.

Me?

That you sent the text, so that
Sylvester would text back

to get me out of the pub
that night.

You're right.

This really has your head wrecked.

Oh God.

Have you thought of something?

No, it's the wine.

It's running straight through me.

Fuck it!

#

No...

'No, I can't kill Mal!'

Does yours have nuts in it?

I'll check the menu.

Ha, no need. Are you okay?

No, you're not.

Where is it!

The pen, Mal. Where is it?

Your room, okay...

The bloody Epi-pen!

I found it!

2008? Mal, fucking hell!

"Emergency services. What's
the nature of your emergency?"

My friend had anaphylactic shock.
She's dying.

"I've traced your location.
An ambulance is being dispatched.

Your friend's name and age, please?"

Mallory Markum. 25.
My name, it's... Elvira Clancy.

"Elvira, the ambulance
will be there in six minutes."

She'll be dead by then.
I need one now!

"Is there an EpiPen available?"

It's not working.
Her mouth's all swollen.

She hasn't been breathing for like,
I dunno... two minutes.

Just tell me what to do?

"Is there chest movement?
Any sign of lung function?"

You're not listening. No air is
going into her body. Just help me!

"Hang on, Elvira.
I'm putting you on hold."

No-- you most certainly are not.

Oh!

"Hi, Elvira. My name is Dan,
I'm a doctor."

"I need you to find a knife, okay?"

Oh, I was afraid you'd say that.

Okay, I found one!

"Okay, good. Now her chin, tip it
as far back as it will allow."

"You'll find two lumps. Now take
the knife and cut vertically

between the pair of them."

I don't want to hurt her.
"Don't worry, you won't."

"Now, make a cut an inch long,
not too deep."

Next.
"Okay, good."

"Next you need to pierce her trachea
to get her breathing again."

How do I do that?

"You'll need to find a small tube.
A straw or a pen."

Whoa, whoa...

"Elvira, did you find one?"

"Elvira, can you hear me?"

"Is she breathing, yeah?"

"Yes?" Yes.

"Good job. Well done.

The ambulance should be
with you any minute."

#

For a moment there,
Emerson thought I killed Mal.

'As fucked up as I am,

even I'm surprised at how happy
that makes me feel.'

'That he got to see me.'

'The real me.'

What the hell was that?!

I barely hit it!

I see.
I think I know.

Maybe now I'll stop
stealing from your plate.

You saved my life.

That's what friends do.

Some friend I am.

Mallory, whatever you did,

I know most of it already.

It's come back in dribs and drabs,
but whatever you did,

no matter how bad it is,
I'll forgive you.

No, you won't.

No, you won't.

I found you.

Five years ago,

in the forest car park.

You had tried-- I know.

Kill myself.

I thought about saving you,
I did. I just--

I just remembered how much pain
you were in and I thought...

Maybe she wants to die.

So you left me.

With her body in the boot
of your car.

Maria Riedle.

She was with me. She'd been shot.
That was that night?

I...I...I was gonna ring
an ambulance,

but then she said that she'd tell
everyone I stole her handbag.

I mean, if the cops found out,
I'd do time.

So you...
I...

I left her to die in your boot.

I ran.

Knowing ye'd both be dead.

And no one would know
what you did.

Wait, that doesn't make sense.

Maria's body was found in the woods.

What happened after you left?
I don't know...

I don't wanna know.

I told you, you'd hate me.

I knew it.

You can say it.

Oh, I'll never say that.

So what'll you do now?

Get high on morphine!

No, I mean about Sylvester's wife.

Will you tell her the truth?

The truth? That you texted
Sylvester.

You had drink taken that night,
but...

now you remember.

I'll lose my house.

I'll have nowhere to go--
Earlier you asked me,

if my mother's death
had changed me.

And you know... it did.

It taught me the power of
self-sacrifice.

How she gave her life,

so I could live.

So you'll sort this, yeah?

You know, as I stood over
your body earlier,

and decided you'd live,

I knew you'd do the same for me.

Good.

So we'll never speak of this again.

Not a word.

Your secret is safe with me.

I'll take it to the grave.

Send Emerson in.

Oh...
What, where is he?

He got out on the way here.

He found that goose,
for his story.

His story.

I nearly died.
I'm sure he can explain later.

Fuck explain.

Fuck him. Sorry, Mal.

But that's the thing about this job,

it comes before everyone else.

#

Thanks for bringing her back,
but this article.

It's just another excuse
for people not to believe

a word out of my mouth.
Well you know what, Dolly?

Fuck 'em.

You're right.

By the way, my offer still stands.
Ah, you're very good.

But my boss is putting me up
for a few days, you're alright.

You know, for a man whose
woman kicked him out,

you seem kinda relieved.

Ah here, have you
someone else lined up?

Ah, I dunno.
I might have messed it up.

How?

I accused her father of murder.

Ooh yeah, that'll do it.
Yeah.

Do you always do that?

Every car that passes,
goes into the book.

Day or night.

Do you mind if I take a look?

Oh, wow.

This goes back years.

That road leads to the Maria Riedle
woods, right? It does.

Here... this entry.

It means that car drove away from
the woods at five to midnight.

Then it came back. The same car
drove towards the wood

at quarter past four
in the morning.

Do you know the owner?

Can I please... borrow this?

Sure.

Morning.

#