All language subtitles for Goodnight Sweetheart s05e07 But We Think You Have to Go

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Original subtitles

Good night, sweetheart. All my prayers are for

you. Good night, sweetheart.

I'll be watching over you.

Tears and parting may make us alone.

But with the dawn, a new day...

Duff?

Hello, Prime Minister.

Yes,

Prime Minister, it worked splendidly.

Oh, thank you, Prime Minister, I don't mind if I do.

Oh, yes, he fell for it, all right.

Yes, amazing likeness, Prime Minister.

Perfect double for Dupont.

Bound to be spotted, bound to be shot.

Jerry will think they've bumped off crucial Allied officer.

Meanwhile, Dupont's over here, ready to get on with organising details.

Oh, no, Prime Minister, no.

Watertight security.

In fact, the poor chap thought he was going to the Isle of Wight.

Love it.

He's in France now.

Condition green.

The sparrow has landed.

Listen carefully.

I shall say this only once.

You shall not understand, in which case I can repeat it several times.

Who are you?

I am Phyllis Bourdon, a member of the Résistance.

I am 29 years and come from simple farming stock.

I enjoy open -air activities, and when the war is over, I hope to find work

involving animals and children.

But there is no time for introductions.

Take off your cap.

What?

Why do you come in uniform? Do you want to die?

No, not really.

Although other people seem to have different ideas.

But then you're in good.

We're going to walk slowly across to that cafe.

We'll casually.

If we see any German soldier, kiss me passionately.

They will think we are lovers.

How do I know I can trust you?

You could be a Nazi spy.

Oh, my God, you're a Nazi spy.

This is gonna get the whole of us there.

I slit his throat.

Take it.

If you think I am traitor, shoot me.

Shoot you?

I hardly know you.

Is this a dream or a nightmare?

Ah, you've been pleased to see me?

No, they all have guns in their pocket.

Well, this is a...

They were expecting me.

They were expecting Colonel Henry Dupont. That is who they think you are.

They are happy.

For years it is war. Now you come and they say to themselves, not war, peace.

Now we have peace.

Everyone in this room very badly want peace.

Yeah, me too. When I saw this journal, so it is.

Gary, this is a very brave thing you do.

Is it?

Well, that's me, you know, always happy to dice with death.

Give me the ace of spades, I dig the garden with it.

Give me the fickle finger of fate and I... pick my nose with it.

Are we close to Pas -de -Calais here?

Pas -de -Calais?

Very close, oui.

I see.

I get shot.

The Germans assume I was here to organise the invasion.

So they think they've discovered the D -Day plans and killed Dupont into the

bargain. It's a cunning plan, yes.

Monsieur Dufty is full of wit.

Certainly rhymes with wit, yes.

Only this time, it's not the duck that gets shot, is it? It's the decoy.

Monsieur Gary, to make you not die is why I am here. Do not worry.

We have safe houses and secret hideouts. We have escape routes and bolt holes.

In the enemy camp, we have many ears and eyes.

You got any people there to go with them?

French resistance being your guardian, no arm can come to you.

Look, look, I'm not who you think I am.

It's a case of mistaken identity. Ask her.

Hello, Gary Lloyd.

Good day early, ain't ya?

What's up?

Have I turned nasty on the Isle of Wight?

Madame, je ne suis pas votre mari.

Je suis un autre.

If that was naughty, Gary Sparrow, the answer's perhaps.

Mrs. Sparrow, this is Colonel Henri Dupont.

To I see to General Charles de Gaulle.

You probably remember me. Macduff, MI5.

Can he?

We have to keep him under wraps while Gary does his stuff. Perfect place? By

your side, of course.

Everyone hereabouts knows him as Gary Sparrow.

All right. We've got a flat up west. I'll sleep there. No, no, old thing.

Crucial you stay here.

Keep up the deception, you see.

I'm not so sure.

Strange man under my roof with Gary being away.

Beefy Deadman's here.

He's not a strange man.

No, look, I'd like that. Sadly, old thing, no choice. Matter of national

security.

Orders direct from Winston Churchill.

What happens if someone speaks to him?

Laryngitis. Sudden attack.

It really is the perfect camouflage. Gary being Colonel, Colonel being Gary.

Life as usual.

Duty calls, Phoebe.

Personal letter from Winnie.

It says to whom it may concern.

Yeah, well, that's you, isn't it?

Yeah, well, all right. I suppose so.

You'll have to take us as you find us. We're a little bit rough and ready.

For me, these are both.

Very good.

I don't want to draw attention.

There'll be MI5 operatives keeping Oboe, but you won't see us, of course.

Right -o? Chin -chin?

Bonne chance.

Au revoir.

Point a wallop, Your Excellency, or drop a porter.

Porter, je comprends.

Take, please, to where I sleep.

Now, there's a little bit of a problem with that.

We got the rooms.

But we've only got the one bed.

Mais, we all make the pretense, no?

So, where have Monsieur Sparrow sleep?

I sleep in this place.

What? These are the order of Winston Churchill.

We all have to do our bit, Phoebe.

Look, you probably think I'm Colonel Henri Dupont, but I'm not. I just happen

look ever so much like him.

So I'm sorry if I've caused any inconvenience, and I'm perfectly

make my own way home.

Colonel, really?

You speak to me in English, and you hope I will believe you are English?

How tiresome.

But I will play your little game, if you like.

We will speak in English.

I am Hauptsturmfuhrer Weiss, and this is Scharfuhrer Holz.

Tomorrow night, we take you to Berlin.

We had hoped to be able to torture you ourselves.

This is a dull little town, and we have to make our own amusements.

However, there are men in Berlin who have developed torture to a fine and

hideous art.

We are miserable amateurs compared with them. You know, pull fingernails, basic

dentistry.

All right, listen.

Bangers are either sausages or fireworks.

Wallop is either a beer or a smack in the chops. There are no birdcages in

Birdcage Walk, and a Chinaman is an off -brake delivered by a left -handed

bowler to a right -handed batsman.

Please, Colonel, these informations are standard issue to all our operatives in

England. You will not convince me with such childishness.

All right, the truth.

I'm not Dupont.

I'm his double.

Very well.

I suppose what you're saying is true.

You are not Dupont.

You have his face, but you are not he.

However, if this is the case, you are here for a purpose.

So you must be tortured to find out why you are here and what you know.

If you are Dupont, torture.

And if you are not Dupont, torture.

It makes no difference.

We find the truth.

The truth?

All right.

I'm a time traveller from 1998, and as such, a non -combatant, so put those

pliers down and set me free, OK?

Oh, God.

Gary is missing.

Typical. He promised he'd help me out at the launch tomorrow.

I thought he might ring me during the day. Some hope.

There's nothing on this phone, there's nothing on my office phone, there's

nothing on my PA's phone, there's nothing on my mobile.

And then you weren't there after, and it's nearly after midnight, and what am

supposed to do? It's bloody thoughtless!

Forgive me, Yvonne.

I got home from work and sat around on my own.

Then I decided to go out for something to eat.

I went to a restaurant called Little Pizza Heaven, which shows what a sad

bastard I am.

And I ate on my own.

Then I went to a film and sat on my own with a bucket of popcorn, watching a

light comedy in which two beautiful yet quirky megastars tried to decide whether

to have sex or not.

Then I went home and went to bed on my own, which is when I got your message,

and I hate myself for being out having fun when you needed me.

Gary promised he'd pick up Simone Sutherland and take her to the launch.

Whenever I need him, he disappears.

He's coming back tomorrow, Yvonne, didn't he tell you?

He said he'd be here when I needed him, and I need him now.

I'm due to leave the launch at 7am. I can't risk it. You'll have to do.

Do what?

Simone Sutherland.

I'd love to, but I don't think I'm first in line.

Anyway, it's Saturday tomorrow. I'm on time and a half.

Falling sick?

No. 200 quid? Yes.

Details in here. She's at the Hambleton Hotel.

I'm sure you'll have no trouble recognising her from her pictures, but

need a hint, men faint as she walks by.

Most important, Simone's lines. Her speech yet for the launch.

Rehearse her. Make sure she knows it. There are no words over two syllables

long. Repetition is the key.

Be patient. Don't shout at her. If she cries, I make up a smudge.

300 quid. It's a deal.

400 quid. Don't push it, Wheatcroft.

Pick up the hire car first thing. It's a stretch limo, so you'll need three

parking spaces.

Oh, she's bulimic, so you'd better take a snack in a thick bag.

A bit knickers, back or not.

I never even realised they'd been away, which says a lot about my life, really.

Oh, I should have known.

So what's this, the condemned man's last meal?

You think you are in, how do you say, a pretty big girl? Yes.

There's nothing pretty about a corpse.

Why don't you take your baguette and shove it?

You think I betray you? Of course.

Or else why am I in German headquarters?

They trust me.

Yeah, I'll bet they do. So did I. You are right to trust, Gary. They are

I am double agent.

I swing both ways.

No, I don't think you mean that.

I did not betray you with one of our people when we find him with.

But these Germans, they believe I am the spy for them. No, I am the spy on them.

It is true. Do you believe?

How can I be sure?

For all I know, they've sent you in here to offer to exchange my secrets for a

night of unbridled passion.

Oui, they have.

Well, frankly, that's the last thing on my mind.

Gary, listen.

Here is what you must do.

When they come tomorrow night to take you to Berlin, you must make them angry

with you. In the street, you must make a spectacle of yourself.

Right. Weep, cringe, beg for mercy.

No, no, no. You must be brave.

Spit in the eye. Make the church a sign to them.

Say to them, their mothers are making love to the barmy -eyed animals.

Yes, I should encourage them to let me off with a caution.

Make the villagers join in. Make the fuss a diversion.

Then you run.

There will be a boat and men to help you.

Vice will shoot me? Maybe, but perhaps he means.

Perhaps? This is the risk you must take.

Perhaps not.

Oh, Gary.

Danger makes you feel the passion.

No, no, no.

British invention.

Top secret.

Nothing gets past it.

Then all is possible.

Listen, Gary.

When I bring tomorrow evening your meal, under the cloth will be a pig's blood

air filled with blood.

Couldn't I just have a cheese omelette?

No, no, this is for the escape plan.

Here, I also give you pin.

You put under shirt the pig's blood air. When vice fire, you prick.

Bloody right I am.

It's been 1998 now, looking forward to chauffeuring a top model to a champagne

breakfast. What do you say?

Nothing. Just missing my future.

Missing all of it if your plan doesn't work.

It will work, Gary.

Courage. One day you will look back on this and remember only a night of

passion.

Celeste, I'm married.

If plan does not work, Gary, tomorrow we are both dead.

Your wife is not here.

I am here.

What should we do?

Play with the ball.

I'd rather go over the plan a few more times before you leave.

The plan will work, Harry.

But for tonight, je ne regrette rien.

Ah,

Phoebe, chérie, alas.

I think this pub is never...

I have something for you.

Women and wine.

These are the French speciality.

We drink and love and love and drink.

Only the French can do this.

The English, they may do one or the other.

I'm trying to conceal this, but we're all down my cardi.

I had to change.

Well, I'll just go and get my toothbrush and I'll be off.

It's true what they say about you French, isn't it?

You think every girl's going to say oui.

Well, this girl says oui off.

Some do, some do not.

Oui, chérie.

Phoebe's taking the young Michael out of our house.

She's staying with Margie tonight.

She's got my place, so I've got hers.

I never slept with a colonel before.

I must make my report to Vice.

What will you tell him?

I tell the truth that you gave nothing away, which is why I look so

disappointed.

I'm sorry, Celeste. It could be my last night on Earth. I just thought I ought

to be... True to just one.

Just one or two.

You're a very nice man, Gary.

Brave, too.

Yes.

Yes, that's what I've always told everyone.

Who the hell are you?

Sorry, darling.

Paparazzi, journos, autograph hunters.

Fame's a bitch.

Where are we going?

Lawn. Body stuff.

Stuff for your body. Well, not your body, anybody's body.

For with both our bodies, your body and my body.

Oh, yeah.

They do a pond slime and cherry cleanser.

Do you work for them?

No, I just help them out now and again.

Ron Weecroft.

So what do you do when you're not a standing babysitter?

Martial arts expert.

Oh, no, full -time merchant banker.

Martial arts in the evenings.

Evenings when I'm not writing my novel.

I'm a printer.

Oh, you're an artist then.

I like that.

A man and a man, do you know?

My dad was a printer.

No, was he?

Bank notes, mostly.

Most of the guys I hang around with are dead poor.

Money to burn.

A port for each day of the week, a house in nine countries, and not one of them

knows how to make a bacon sarnie.

Let's go for a ride, shall we?

What, you mean do a pull?

It's not such a big deal, Ron.

Having a perfect body.

That's what I'd say.

Everyone I know has got a perfect body.

All the women, all the men, all the things.

Boring. It must be so boring.

I'll tell you something, Simone. Not many people know this, but my body is

from perfect.

My life is just one big yawn, Bob.

Think it's glamorous, all this up and down the catwalking designer clobber?

I spend most of my time hanging around backstage in my knickers.

You should see me. Oh, I'd like that, Simone.

Perhaps we could look in our diaries and fix up a time.

Tell me something, Ron.

When was the last time you kicked your shoes off and ran barefoot through a

field holding a girl's hand?

Stop the car.

Stop it now.

Please stop the car now, now, now.

You're lying on top of me.

Yeah.

So I am.

Do you want me to move?

Oh, yeah.

I'd love you to move.

Listen, God, if I'm dead, I'd just like to say thank you.

Don't be nasty to the Nazis.

You know this song?

Nein.

This filthy song about our beloved leader.

How do you know so well the words?

Have you never heard of counterintelligence, Holtz?

Silence! Silence!

Silence!

So, you like to make the joke with the whistle, hmm?

I tell them, Sister Berlin, and then we see how you whistle with no teeth.

We go.

Stop whistling and run!

Halt! Halt!

Drop

your gun,

or I shoot her.

Drop her, or I shoot you.

I'm going to count to ten.

No, I am going to count to ten.

One.

Two. Three.

Four.

Five.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten!

You're not safe here now.

Come with me.

My place is here, Gary. None of these people is safe.

We must hide in the hills with the resistance.

We must fight for the freedom.

You saved my life.

The boat.

You must go.

Goodbye, Gary.

I will think of you often.

Professionalist.

Look,

about last night, it wasn't... Do not worry, Sherry. I understand.

You are English.

Can I see you again?

Next week, this week, tomorrow.

Can I come with you?

Perhaps we'll bump into each other somewhere.

Rome or Milan or Tokyo.

Oh, yeah, bound to.

Or Cricklewood.

It was lovely, Ron.

Our walk in the woods was lovely.

That little hotel was lovely.

Our four -poster bed was lovely.

You were lovely, Ron.

No -one's ever going to believe me.

As promised, Gary, new papers all in order.

Must congratulate you on job well done.

Jerry now believes Big Push will be part of Calais.

First rate, very successful little trip.

Yes, well, there wasn't a lot of time for duty free, but I did manage to bring

you something back.

You know what they had planned for me?

Torture and death.

That's a very unfriendly combination.

You're a bastard, Macduff.

Bastard, yes.

You're a scheming scumbag. Scumbag, yes.

You're a nasty little pile of dog -dew with an irritating speech impediment.

-dew with an irritating speech impediment, yes. And because I am very,

angry... Very, very angry, yes. I am going to shoot you. Shoot me, yes.

Would you like a blindfold?

Would you like a medal?

What? Medal.

George Medal.

For outstanding bravery.

All yours.

You should get it from His Majesty, of course, but officially you don't exist.

You think you can buy back your miserable life with a medal?

I can also offer you £56 in used notes.

All I have in the world. Well, I've got a wife, of course. You wouldn't want

her. I don't want her.

All right.

You didn't really think I was going to shoot you, did you?

No.

Shoot me?

Of course not. Not at all.

You shoot me.

Never thought it for a minute.

Good. Because I've stared death in the face, Macduff. I wouldn't waste bullets

on a pen pusher like you.

Ha ha! Pen pusher?

Senior MI5 operative trained in deception, Sparrow. Didn't think I was

frightened, did you? Just a ruse, old boy.

Cunning ruse. Ha ha ha!

So then Pierre said, you saved my life.

You are the bravest man I ever meet.

I've heard it a thousand times, Gary.

He said, mon brave, I shake your hand. Then I ran for the boat. Why are you

making such a fuss?

All the missions you go on, all the times you get dropped behind enemy

all the narrow escapes.

What's so special about this one that I've got to hear it morning, noon and

night? No, you see, I was in the hands of the Gestapo. The Gestapo, I know.

And I was nearly in the hands of Colonel Godgifter with my DuPont.

Much you seem to care.

But, Phoebe, I... I knew it wasn't the Isle of Wight.

Just stringing you along, of course.

My rheumatical twinge is no good at all, Gary.

Spinning the night in damp sheets.

The SS officer backed out.

I kissed Celeste goodbye.

Rode out to the fishing smack. Crossed the channel through a minefield.

Went up to Macduff's office. Pulled a gun on him. Called him a bastard. And he

gave me the George medal.

How was your weekend?

Picked up Simone Sutherland, skipped the launch, drove off into the country,

made love to her on a bed of leaves, drove to a small hotel, drew the

on a four -poster and tested it to the very limits of desire.

No need to take the piss.

And she was very beautiful, Michael.

And she offered me a night of unbridled passion, but...

Then I said to the Gestapo, torture me if you will, I shall tell you nothing.

Then I made my daring escape, and they gave me this medal.

Look.

Michael.

Michael.

Good night, sweetheart.

Sleep well, banished sorrow.

Good night, sweetheart.

I'm all

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