All language subtitles for White Gold s02e06.eg

Maureen?

Nigel?

FAINT BANGING

MAN GROANS

MAN GROANS FORCEFULLY

Hello?

MATTRESS CREAKS AND GROANS

SHRIEKING AND SCREAMS

Fucking hell, Brian!

- Ronnie?!
- Brian, I'm glad it's you.

Look, I wanted you
to hear this from me first.

I'm seeing Maureen.

Oh!

Well, that's really decent of you, RJ.

I mean, your dick is barely
out of my wife, but I appreciate

you being straight with me.

Fucking hell!

Get out before I call the police,
you dirty little pervert.

I wasn't perving.

I thought you were out walking Nigel.

Usually, I can't get
anywhere near the house

with the Hound of Hell on the prowl.

I had to give him a Valium earlier
because he's taken a dislike to RJ.

Why couldn't you sedate him all
those times he was terrorising me?

Because I didn't want him
getting addicted to drugs!

Besides, it's funny, and I hate you.

Close the door on your
way out, you pervert.

Oh, Brian?

Is it all right if I get
a lift to work tomorrow?

Mum!

At least someone's pleased to see
me. How was your day, sweetheart?

Good. I got my 11 Plus results back.

So, how did you do?

Failed, not even close.

Rob, it's nothing to be pleased about.

It is! Now I don't have to go
to Gaylord Grammar School.

- What?
- Get in the fucking car.

Oh, Sally, leave Mr Lavender alone.

Oh, call me Martin, please. It's OK.

She likes the smell
of the anaesthetic cream.

What happened to your feet?

Oh, second-degree sunburn. Yeah.

Mad dogs and Englishmen, eh?

- Sorry?
- Er, go out in the midday sun.

Sensible people, however,
can enjoy sunshine any time

through one of our UV protected,
double glazed conservatories.

I think I should put
Sally out in the kitchen.

Oh honestly, it's not a problem.
I love dogs.

Argh!

UHHH!

Oh!

Oh!

Linda.

Linda.

Linda! Hello? It's me, Sam.

Oh, hi, Sam. Sorry.

Completely in a world of my own, there.

Yeah, I know that feeling.
Is Patricia celebrating something?

Oh, this? It's for the Live Aid
party tomorrow.

Well, you've got enough bunting
there for a street party.

Oh, yeah, well,
it's practically the whole street.

- Sorry, you don't know about it, do you?
- No, don't be daft.

I've, er, been in Malta for the
past week, so she's probably not had

- a chance to tell us about it.
- Yeah.

I'd better dash, I must get this
cheesecake in the fridge.

Patricia can't stand
a soggy biscuit bottom.

Well, you'd better get your
soggy bottom to Patricia's, then.

Yeah, I'll see you.

I know he's dead.

How convenient.

Hey, come on.

I'm not going to let you think
like that.

You've got to stay positive, yeah?

Look, here.

Head down the Horse,
get us a couple of pints in.

I'll be right behind you.

I just need to have a quick
word with the boss.

Thanks, Brian.

I don't know what I would've done
without you this last week.

All right.

And Maureen, obviously.

But that's mainly on
the physical side of things.

All right, yeah.

Walshy, just to let you know,
I'm going off to fire RJ.

Blimey, talk about kicking
a man when he's down!

Is this about Maureen?

No, no. God, no.

No, he deserves a medal
for taking on that lunatic.

No, this is purely a business decision.

Now that his old man's brown bread,
we don't have to worry

about any repercussions for sacking
that fucking liability.

So you really think Ronnie's dead?

About as dead as RJ's career in sales.

Well, well. This could be the
best news I've had in ages.

Do me a favour, hold fire
on sacking RJ, will you?

Oh, what? Come on!

You've seen him in action.

Yesterday, he told a couple
in harrowing fucking detail

how their toddler could be baked
alive in one of our conservatories.

I don't fucking care. He stays.

What's Live Aid?

- You really don't know what Live Aid is?
- No.

Would it help me sell
more windows if I did?

You are unbelievable, Vincent.

You know what? I'm just trying
to figure out why you think

it's MY fault Pat's
got a bug up her arse.

It's not a bug. It's a
bloody leaking conservatory,

which you put there.

Anyway, I'm more pissed off
with Robbie at the moment

for blowing his 11 Plus.

Which is why starting a new life
in Spain is exactly the right thing

- for us, baby.
- Are you bloody joking?

It's a big opportunity, Sam.

You said yourself, what's there
to miss about this place?

I can't just take
the kids out of school.

Nat's got her O-levels coming up,
and Robbie deliberately

failed his 11 Plus by so much,
he's probably going to be

reclassified as special fucking needs.

Calm down, baby, all right?

There's bound to be
good schools in Marbella.

Really?

I'll tell you what's bound to be.

You're bound to screw over
and alienate everyone we meet

in Spain, just like you have here.

And as always, muggins here will
be left picking up the pieces.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Sorry to interrupt.

Martin was rushed into
Basildon Hospital this morning.

Huh! Never apologise for bringing
good news, Carol.

When are you going to grow up, Vincent?

Yeah, all right, I'll call you back.

Oh, hiya, Sam.

Have you heard about Martin?

You must be worried sick.
I know you two are close.

Robbie, darling, go and get in the car.

You listen to me, Jo.

I don't know why you never had kids.

Either you're an ambitious cunt,
or a barren one.

But don't ever underestimate
how protective a mother

can be when she finds
her family threatened.

- What?
- Oh, you heard.

KNOCK AT DOOR

She knows about us.

I can assure you, if Sam knew
about us, there'd be no us.

What's got you so jumpy?

Doesn't matter.

What did you want to see me about?

Run away with me to Spain.

Ha! Well, shall we at least get
married in Gretna Green first,

- my love?
- I'm not joking.

Well, it sounds wonderful,
but aren't you forgetting one thing?

It starts with Sam,
ends in your children.

I've been going through the motions
with Sam for the last year.

Malta was the final nail in the coffin.

Why stay here and slug it out
in front of my kids,

when I could be in Marbella,
waking up next to your beautiful,

tanned body every morning?

Well, you might be ready for
early retirement, Vincent,

- but I'm just getting started.
- No-one mentioned retirement.

What's this?

I've been headhunted by some big
time-share players.

The money they're chucking
about makes the returns in

double glazing look like loose change.

We're talking five figure bonuses.

Shit, you're serious?

Yes, and they would bite my fucking
arm off if I brought someone

with your sales credentials
along for the ride.

Come on, baby.

We'd be the king and
queen of time-share.

What d'you think?

King and queen of time-share?

Well, seeing as this is probably
my last chance of marrying

into royalty, I could be persuaded.

DOORBELL RINGS

Oh! Sam, you're back.

Look, Pat, I'm here because
Robbie failed his 11 Plus.

And I'm bloody mortified
to have to do this,

but you did say there could be
other avenues to explore.

Hm, yes, I remember.

Unfortunately, those avenues
have now turned into a cul-de-sac.

A cul-de-sac where the Swans
are no longer welcome.

So, if that's everything, Sam, goodbye.

It's all moving so fast.

Dad's disappearance.

Falling in love with Maureen.

You love her?

It's moved beyond just
physical lust into something

I can only describe as...

...deeply spiritual.

She's my soulmate.

I mean, the sex hasn't slowed up.

If anything, it's getting dirtier.

The other day, she managed
to get her big toe into my arseh...

Whoa! All right, listen, while I'm
delighted for you two lovebirds,

we are still married.

So...

...boundaries, yeah?

She asked me to move in
the other day, but I told her no.

Cos you were worried what I might do?

No, I'm not worried about YOU at all.

Yeah...

Now, if we can just pretend for a second
that my feelings aren't irrelevant,

I think it's a great idea.

You know, it's about time
I moved out the shed.

The only problem is, if I leave,

I'm still on the hook
for half the mortgage,

so if you moved in
and paid rent, problem solved!

Well, it might be a cosy
solution to your problems,

Brian, but it doesn't
solve mine, does it?

No, I think it's better
if I cool things with Maureen

- for the time being.
- What?

No, no, no. Well...

Look, listen.

I know this business
with your dad is upsetting.

It's not Dad, it's the fucking hound.

Nigel?

He creeps the shit out of me.

Have you seen that look in its eyes?

Come on!

You can't throw away everything that
you and Maureen have over a dog.

Now, look, I'm guessing that if
the dog was out of the picture,

- then you'd be game on to move in, right?
- Yeah.

But she's never getting rid of Nigel.

She doesn't have to.

People lose things that they care
about all the time.

I'm not killing Satan
in canine form, Brian.

No-one's mentioned killing.

No, this is more of a...

...a relocation programme.

Now, how did you get it to take that
Valium the other day?

KNOCK AT DOOR

Sam.

The opportunity of seeing me
in agony too good to pass up?

Well, walking away from everything
isn't going terribly well, is it?

I'm so sorry about what
happened in Malta. I...

I had no business
bringing my crap out there.

I agree. How's the feet?

- Oh!
- Er, they're basically fucked.

It's fine, though, because
as long as I don't walk on them,

or wear shoes, or touch
them, then there's no pain.

Well, if it makes you feel any
better, I almost feel sorry for you.

- That can't be why you're here, though.
- No.

Did you mean it, what you said in Malta?

Yeah.

Yeah, every word.

I want to spend the rest
of my life with you, Sam.

Right, well...

You know what that means, yeah?

Me, the kids, a fresh start,
our entire lives upside down.

Yeah. Yeah, whatever it took, Sam.

I lost you once and if I had the chance,

I would never make that mistake again.

At least if you're in a wheelchair
and you change your mind,

you can't run away.

Uh!

Ahh, fuck!

- I'm sorry!
- Fuck!

It's all right.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Last night, I lit one
of his cigars indoors.

I just wanted to feel
like he was home again.

Where is he, Vincent?

He'll come home soon, Lizzie.

I know it.

But if events do take a certain turn,
then I would very much want to

make sure Cachet carried on in good
hands and help you to realise

the value in the business.

Now, obviously, I'm praying
it never comes to that.

I can't think about anything other
than finding Ronnie right

- at this moment, Vincent.
- I understand, Lizzie.

I just wanted you to have peace
of mind that you wouldn't be left

with the headache of a struggling
business that Ronnie's heart

was never in.

I can't believe the front on you lot.

Lot?

Oh, so far, I've had visits
from that big ape from W-Windows,

and your Northern colleague.

They both popped in
to show their concern.

- Jo was here?
- Yes!

Tell me, is everyone in double
glazing this bloody callous?

I told the police I had no idea of
anyone who'd have it in for my Ronnie.

I'm starting to wonder what you lot
might be capable of.

You are aware, Lizzie,
this isn't your husband's only

- line of business?
- Of course.

I might look the dumb blonde,
but I know exactly

what Ronnie specialises in.

Buying and selling antiques.

I warned him to stick to what he knows.

Hello, can I speak
to Detective Neil, please?

Vincent, PC Plod's back.

He's been asking loads
of questions about Ronnie.

Bruce! Long time, no see.

Yes, it has been.

Oh, come on.

We can still shake hands,
at least, can't we?

When you've finished
massaging my knuckles.

Sorry. Old habits die hard.

To what do we owe the honour?

Well, as I'm sure you're aware,
your boss, Mr Farrell, is missing.

Normally, violent criminal goes AWOL
isn't something I'd waste public

money investigating,
but in this case, his taxpaying wife

has reason to suspect foul play.

Which has brought me
to your door, Mr Swan.

Vincent, please. You know what?

I just remembered, Bruce, did we ever
repair that conservatory of yours?

Carol, book Barry in to have a look
at Detective Neil's conservatory.

Tell him to drop everything immediately.

- I can, but didn't you sack him?
- Thank you, Carol.

- I meant Brendan.
- You sacked him, too.

Don't talk, just do it!

Will that be all, Detective?

Oh, no, this is a bit more serious
than your usual rogue dealer antics,

Mr Swan.

No, you're going to accompany me
to the station for questioning

or we can make our conversation
a bit more official

with an arrest warrant.

Bruce, you know I'd do anything
to help out a fellow Mason.

Carol, watch the shop.
I'll be back in an hour.

An hour?

That's very presumptuous.

And for the record,
you are not a fucking Mason.

RADIO: We're back, folks,
live at Wembley Stadium.

This is Live Aid
and these are The Boomtown Rats.

MUSIC: I Don't Like Mondays
by The Boomtown Rats

You recently travelled to Malta.

- What for?
- Sun, sea and a chance of the other.

Oh, it wasn't business, then?

No, I wanted to take Sam
and the kids away for a break.

That's interesting,
because the travel agent said

that the booking was originally
made by Ronnie Farrell

and later amended by a Dr Swan.

Why were you travelling
under an alias, Mr Swan?

Look, I won the tickets for smashing
the sales competition last month.

Ronnie booked the tickets, obviously.

I decided to try and bullshit my way
into a business class upgrade.

I mean, what numb nuts
uses his own name and the prefix

of Dr as an alias?

Presumably, all this will check out if
I go back through the company books?

- Absolutely, Bruce.
- I've told you...

Sorry, Detective Neil.

Look, let me get this straight.

I'm being persecuted for a crime that
may have not even been committed,

based on the fact I took a holiday

to a Mediterranean shithole?

Now, calling your case wafer thin would
be a slur on the strength of wafers.

- I take it I'm free to leave.
- You are.

Well, I'll see you later, then, mate.

Ending interview.

Hello, I'm really interested
in a property I've just seen

advertised in this week's
rental section.

All right, anywhere around here
should be good.

SONG CONTINUES ON CAR RADIO,
RADIO TURNED OFF

FAINT GROWLING

What's that noise?

FAINT GROWLING

I can't hear anything.

FAINT GROWLING

There.

Shit!

How much Valium did you give him?

Just a half to start off with.

To start off with?
It's not a fucking buffet!

You had one job,
put the fucking dog to sleep.

Well, I didn't want to kill him!

Let's just let him out here.

He should be nice and relaxed, anyway.

Well, he doesn't sound fucking relaxed!

He's probably got cold turkey.

You'd better get him out, quick.

Me? You're his drug dealer. You do it.

No, this is your idea.

I'm happy enough
not to move in with Maureen.

Oh, fuck!

HE'S GOING TO POSSESS US!

BARKING

What are we going to do?

All right, er, here's the plan.

I'm going to open the boot.

As soon as he leaps out,
we jump in and floor it.

The plan is to let him out.

Are you fucking mad?

Well, what choice do we have?

You want the police to tell Maureen
that they found Nigel dead

and drugged in your abandoned car?

BARKING

All right, you ready?

- OK.
- All right.

On three.

One, two...

...three.

Come on, then,
you fucking psycho dickhead.

BARKING

Just so you know, I'm taking
the cost of repairing this car

off any rent I have to pay you.

Just fucking drive!

BARKING

Well, well, if it isn't Cachet's
answer to the outlaw, Jesse James.

Can you give us a minute, Carol?

Tell me the truth.

Did you have anything to do
with Ronnie's disappearance?

Of course I fucking didn't.

I can't even get the man who slept
with my wife sacked from here,

let alone bump off the boss.

OK, so now what?

Well, I don't plan on being on
the wrong end of a wrongful

conviction when the police come
sniffing back around.

If you're coming to Spain with me,
it's now or never.

Shit, Vincent, this is lousy timing.

I've finally got everything
I've worked for.

Everything?

A failing business in a dying industry?

Take a look around, Jo,
the gold rush is over.

Market saturation, red tape,

national chains squeezing out
independents.

The future is an army of
dickhead vanilla salesmen

doing as they're told.

That's not for us.

Time-share is where
the party's at, baby.

You know it.

That was a good pitch.

I'm selling a good product,
a product you need in your life.

OK, where do I sign?

Go home, grab your passport, pack light.

I'll pick you up in an hour.

PHONE RINGS

I told you to give us a minute, Carol.

Would you be so kind as
to pop downstairs, Vincent?

I need a word.

Walshy?

I'm sorry, boys,
you must be fucking confused.

Have you forgotten you run W-Windows,

Corringham's l-least successful
double glazing business?

Yeah, that might even be funny
if I hadn't just acquired

Corringham's most successful
double glazing business.

Bollocks.

With Ronnie, shall we say,
unaccounted for,

RJ and his mum wanted rid of this place,

and guess who stepped in
to take it off their hands?

Which means...

...I'm your boss again,
and what's even f-funnier,

you're f-fucking f-fired!

- Too late, I resigned five minutes ago, mate.
- Bollocks!

- It's true, he did.
- Oh, how convenient.

By the way, you're sacked too, Jo.

Yeah, well, sorry, Tony,
it was a double resignation.

I'm off as well.

Hold on, you're not getting
away with this one, Vincent.

Once I let the fraud squad
take a look at these books,

I'm sure they're going to find
enough incriminating evidence to get

you banged up for a good few years.

Quick question, Tony,
when you acquired the business,

did you sign a waiver
exempting the new ownership

from any pending legal claim?

MIMICKING HER

...legal claim. Yeah, nice try.

Don't think your
mumbo jumbo legal bollocks

is going to save this smarmy pillock.

No, but in case you weren't aware,
any criminal acts that you had prior

knowledge to at the time
of the purchase become

the new owner's responsibility,
so unless you signed that

mumbo jumbo legal bollocks, you'll
be sending yourself to jail too.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah, we'll see about that.

What, what did you say that clause was?

Always read the small print
on the contract, mate.

Right, well, I'm sacking someone today.

Carol, you're out.

Oh, come on! What am I sacked for?

I don't fucking care!

Disloyally continuing
to work here after I left.

Having a stupid perm. Take your pick.

That's out of order, Tony.

Look, if you do this,
I'll walk out that door with her.

- What?
- I said, I'll walk.

Carol's done nothing wrong.

In fact, she's the only person
out of this whole fucking company

that's shown any kind of integrity,
loyalty and honesty

over these past two years.

She deserves a raise, not a P45.

She's an angel.

Are you really going to walk?

Yeah.

All fucking right, then. On balance,
I may have acted hastily.

- Carol, you're not sacked.
- Thanks.

And I'll have you know,
this isn't a bloody perm!

It's au naturel.

That didn't sound like
much of an apology.

Oh, Jesus Christ!

Carol, I'm sorry. All right?

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I'm going upstairs to find something

to wipe this fucking egg off my face.

Brian!

That was incredible.

You didn't need to say all that.

Oh, I was just saying the truth.

Thank you.

But can we not ever speak
about it again?

Because it's making me feel awkward now.

Yeah.

Speak about what?

Do you want a tea, Brian?

Yeah, go on, then.

And I was wondering if maybe,
later, you wanted to try

another compatibility shag...

...with me?

Bloody hell, Carol.

I think this time, we can get the sexual
thermometer above freezing.

FREDDIE MERCURY ON RADIO: Ay-oh!

ALL: Ay-oh!

FREDDIE MERCURY: Ay-oh!

ALL: Ay-oh!

FREDDIE MERCURY: Ay-oh, ay-oh,
ay-oh, ay-oh.

ALL: Ay-oh, ay-oh, ay-oh, ay-oh.

FREDDIE MERCURY: Ay-oh!

ALL: Ay-oh!

FREDDIE MERCURY: Ay-oh!

Ay-oh!

Wrong day to fuck with me, Pat.

- ALL: Ayyyyy!
- CHEERING

SCREAMING

There you go, Patricia.

No more fucking conservatory
to worry about.

MUSIC: Alive And Kicking by Simple Minds

- Mum!
- That was fucking awesome!

- Robbie!
- Robbie!

I think you need to work
on reversing around corners.

Shall we?

Miss me?

Is that really you, Ronnie?

Well, who else do you know
dresses this well?

You're not reaching out
from the other side?

Contrary to popular, hysterical belief,

I'm not dead, Carol.

So get this, Ronnie,
far from being dead,

had been in Marbella partying
like Hugh Hefner all week.

It turned out that was the transfer
fee for agreeing to let me go

and work for the time-share consortium.

RJ's been worried sick.

Couldn't you call?

Well, I couldn't tell Lizzie, Carol, no.

She thinks Marbella is vulgar
and sleazy for some reason.

But as I say, Tony,
better to beg for forgiveness

than ask for permission.

Yeah... Yeah, good one.

Oh, well, it's great to see you, Ronnie.

Now, you're probably wondering
what I'm doing here.

Well, funnily enough, no.

Junior's filled me in on
the events of the past week,

so I'm guessing
congratulations are in order.

You are back where
you rightfully belong.

Oh, thanks.

Blimey, it must have
been a good holiday!

So you're not angry
RJ sold me the business?

Angry?

I'm fucking delighted, my old pal.

I told him to.

Oh, thank God for that.

Hang on...

RJ thought you were dead.

That's why he sold up.

He may have been a touch economical
with the truth but you were too busy

trying to profit from my boy's grief
to care, Tony.

I don't know what you lot
have been teaching him over there,

but you've turned him
into a right devious bugger.

So why did you sell up, then?

Well, to be perfectly honest,
Cachet is probably more broke

than when you sold it to me for a pound.

But nothing a man of your
business acumen couldn't

turn around, eh, Tony?

But still, seemed an ideal
opportunity to cash in.

No hard feelings, eh?

No, what I really object to
is that toerag Vincent pissing off

to Spain without my permission.

I thought you told the time-share
people they could have him?

Oh, I did, Carol, but Vincent
didn't know that, did he?

No, this is...

This is unforgivable.

The huge fucking irony of Ronnie not
being murdered was that he was now

almost certainly looking to murder me.

Running to Spain had never
seemed so attractive,

although starting a new chapter
in life meant finishing

the last one first.

SAM SWAN: I'm so sorry, Martin.

I can't deal with the mess
of my life by turning someone

else's upside down.

And it wasn't just Lavender
struggling to come to terms

with losing the one
true love of their life.

Look, I know it's sad,
but as one special friendship

passes, a new one is just beginning.

Shut up, you idiot!

Nigel was ten times the man you'll
ever be and he was a fucking dog!

Yeah, think about that!

I'm sorry, my darling. I'll try and
think before I open my mouth next time.

SAM SWAN: And stop selling
yourself short.

In fact, stop selling, full stop,
and get back to doing something

that truly makes you happy.

Love, Sam.

Oh, fuck it!

Fuck!

PHONE RINGS

Hello?

- VINCENT: Hi.
- Where the fuck are you?

I'm at the airport...

...with Sam and the kids.

Babe, I'm sorry,
but it's like you told me.

Winning isn't everything.

It's the only thing.

You wanker!

Now, don't be like that.

You'll learn from this.

Shit!

MUSIC: Let's Go All The Way by Sly Fox

Do I want to know?

Just tying up a few loose ends.

Shall we?

Yeah.

Repair and Synchronization by
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