Original subtitles

Thank you, Mavis. That was very good.

Right, come on, Mr. Humphrey. It's your turn to wash and I'll dry.

Have you got any gloves? I don't want to get washed a red hand.

Well, these should fit.

They're dad's.

I can't imagine him doing any washing up.

No, he uses them to deliver the calves.

I'll wipe.

You were in the local paper. They covered our cricket match.

manner triumphs over Tenderbottom. Does it mention me?

You're the star.

The winning stroke was scored by B. Flocombe, 86.

What?

No, listen.

86 was the score that Millstone needed to beat Tenderbottom. The formidable

Flocombe thundered down the pitch seven times to carry her team to victory.

attempts were made to carry her shoulder high, and this was finally achieved

using a forklift truck.

Those cheeky young cub reporters.

Well, there's a picture of us as well. Look, there's you, there's me, there's

Miss Trumpley in the slip, and there's Captain Peacock out with his bales in

-air.

Is that Mr. Rumble without his glasses?

No!

That's the winning turnip in the vegetable and flower shop.

Oh, I mean that one.

Oh, yes.

Sorry.

Ah, that's probably the postman. I'll go.

Oh, look, it's Captain Peacock and Miss Lovelock coming back.

Where have they been? Miss Lovelock's been taking him for his first ride.

Yes, he was heading on to the town rail doing knee bends for half an hour this

morning. Oh, that's what the crackling noise was.

I thought somebody had left a bonfire.

Make much of your horse.

I beg your pardon?

Pat it.

Oh, I see.

Well done, old chap.

Now, to dismount, you simply take your feet out of the stirrup, throw your leg

over the horse's head, and slide down.

Like this.

I see.

Well, I can remove my feet from the stirrups, all right, but the furring

work very well.

Perhaps if you get this love lock to get your roof to sit down, then you could

slide off down the car.

It's not a burka's horse. It's a hunter.

Well, if it could stand still, I could get a ladder.

Here, tell you what. Why don't you walk him under a tree, hang on to a low

branch, get it to gee up, and then when he's gone, you drop down and we'll catch

you. Really, Miss Brown? Oh!

The feeling seems to be returning to my lower regions.

Perhaps I could help you to get your leg over, Captain.

I should leave that to Miss Lovelock, Mrs. Slocum.

She's had more experience.

Thank you, Mr. Alphys.

He's brought the colour to your cheeks.

How did he get on?

He's got a natural rhythm when walking.

Unfortunately, a rabbit popped out of a hedge and the horse bolted.

Must have been quite a sight.

By the time I caught up with him, the eyes were rolling, nostrils flaring,

was coming from the mouth.

On top of that, he lost his hat.

I'm sweating a bit.

You're right.

Perhaps I'd better give him a rub down.

It's all the same to you. I think I'll have a shower.

Oh,

dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.

What's that, Mrs. Slocum? Poor Mrs.

Axelby. I thought she was still in Spain.

She's joined a terrorist group.

And she's not enjoying it a bit.

She's not blowing things up, is she?

She's known as a sleeper. They're going to activate her when the revolution

starts.

What's she doing in the meantime?

shacked up with a clerk in the Attorney General's office.

She has to go through his briefs when he's having a siesta.

Well, she always wanted adventure.

Mr Humphreys, you're looking rather distraught.

They want to suspend me at the daffodil club.

That sounds very painful.

It's a gambling debt.

I was playing strip poker.

I owe them two pairs of Y -fronts and a cardigan.

Ah, Captain Peacock, there's a registered letter for you. It feels like

Is there anything else in the mail?

Oh, yes, quite good. We've had one or two inquiries for bookings.

What have you got, Captain Peacock?

Well, I earned certain medals during the war.

I never bothered to claim them. Well, I haven't much use for that sort of thing,

as you know.

But seeing the guns of Navarone a few weeks ago brought it all back to me.

So... I wrote to the Ministry of Defence, giving them the various

war in which I saw service.

And what did they send you?

The Africa Star and the Defence Medal.

They look good on your pyjamas.

It's ridiculous.

I'm entitled to much more than that. Of course you are. What about that time you

was parachuted into Yugoslavia with the chipmunks?

The Chetniks, Miss Browns.

Well, there's still a D -note is slapped on that little adventure.

I'm forbidden to speak about it even now.

There's a coincidence.

Well, the guest booked in for next Thursday is called Slocum.

Oh, well, it's not an uncommon name in the Dales.

Cecil G.

Slocum. What?

Are you all right, Mrs. Slocum? You've gone quite pale under your pancake.

Oh, no, it couldn't be.

What's the matter? Is there a relation?

I was married to a Settle G.

Slocum. Oh, that's right.

How long was it now since he walked out on you?

He didn't walk out on me.

He just disappeared.

Where? In Sainsbury's.

It was quite a shock, I can tell you.

He'd just gone out one morning at ten to nine to buy a pound of slightly salted

butter. They used to cut it off a big slab and then bang it into shape with

wooden bats.

Oh, I know. Yes, they had little grooves in them. They used to keep them in

water. That's right, Mr Humphrey.

I didn't know he left you as long ago as that.

Thanks. Well, it got to be half past twelve.

And I thought to myself, that's funny.

What did you do?

I had Marge on me toes.

Anyway, at one o 'clock I went out to look for him. Well, I scoured every...

pub in the area until I'd used up all the housekeeping.

But there wasn't a sign of him.

That was 42 years ago this Easter.

How very sad, Mrs. Flerken. You know, nobody could understand it.

I mean, he was devoted to me.

And to the pussy I had at the time.

You know, it's a funny thing. You know how these things go in waves?

Well, there were quite a few people disappeared about that time.

I mean, the wife of the man next door vanished into thin air. In Sainsbury's?

Oh, no.

Co -op.

Well, here it is. Here's the letter.

Oh, no.

Is it him?

I'd know that signature anywhere. Many's the time I've traced it onto one of his

checks.

Until it closes account.

What are you going to do, Mrs. Slocum?

Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Slocum. He probably won't recognise you after 40

Yes, that's expensive paper and raised writing and all.

Slocum Leisure Industries, Chairman and Managing Director, Cecil G. Slocum. He's

obviously done well for himself.

Oh, how ignominious.

He's gone up in the world and I've gone.

No. Oh, come, come, Mrs. Slocum. You've always held a good position.

I was a shop girl.

A poor shop girl.

Nonsense. I didn't even sell grumpy and all the tiaras. I sold knickers and

fries.

And now I'm nothing better than a chambermaid. I mean, I haven't even got

room for me. All I have to bunk up with her.

Mrs. Slocum, he needn't know you bunk up with me.

I'll move out. I'll go back to the room with the leaky roof.

Of all the gin joints in all the world, he had to choose this one.

I can't think. I'd love to go.

Don't be hasty, Mrs. Hookham.

Look, we can hide you in the cellar till he's gone. How long is he staying?

A week. A week soon passes.

He'll be all right. He can have lots of blankets and a primer stove and we'll

bring you down sandwiches and cups of cocoa and...

You can have the telly and your own poo.

Well, what's it matter if he's done well and she hasn't? As long as she was

happy. She's very class conscious, Mrs. Slocum. She always gets into the first

class compartment and then walks down to the second.

Well, I think people were happier when they knew their place in life.

When I was a little girl, there were all the servants in the big house.

And then there was lots and lots of workers running the farm.

Well, here they all are. Look.

That's Mad Jed, the young cowman. He fell out of an aloft onto his head.

But he was happy.

Oh, then there's Mr Ratchet, the gamekeeper.

He drunk too much.

But he was happy.

Then there was Rosie Bell.

She was the dairy maid.

She had a vision. It made her hair stand on end.

What did she have a vision of?

Well, we couldn't find out. But she could never get it to lie down again.

But she was happy.

Oh, that's me in Dad's arms. Oh, you don't look happy.

Well, neither would you be if you had old potato sacks from nappy.

Where's your mother?

Oh, she ran off with the blacksmith. I bet she was happy.

Oh, and look at that old... What we're all standing on. My dad made that out of

old beer crates.

Well, same as the bed he's putting in the cellar for Mrs. Slocum. Mrs. Slocum

will never sleep on a homemade bed. She's definitely Kendall Milne interior

sprung, is Mrs. Slocum.

Well, why don't we give her our room?

And we'll camp out down there.

It's only a small bed, but we'll manage if we turn over together.

Let's not complicate things.

I might turn at the wrong time and we'll be up all night.

Now look, you'll be as snug as a fucking brick.

I fail to see why you have to hide. You've got nothing to be ashamed of.

I quite agree, Captain Peacock. Just because you started off humble and

up humble.

But who's to say he's going to recognise you anyway?

Well, I didn't at first.

And nobody knowed you better than I did.

but I can't stay here. It's like being in cell block H.

Listen, why don't you come and bed down in my cottage?

I'll give you breakfast in bed and we can have a good laugh about old times.

Mr. Moulton, please keep it down.

It's a job for you about.

I think I ought to tell him. He's here.

What?

here till tomorrow.

But he got the dates wrong.

What does he look like? Has he got red hair?

Well, his hair's receding a bit, like mine.

Has a few ginger threads among the gold.

Medium height?

Medium everything.

It seems he's not just here as a guest.

His group is looking for property and land to develop as a conference centre

leisure park.

He said he'd make a substantial offer if the place suits him. But we can't sell.

It's a trust.

Trucks can be broken when there's a lot of cash at stake.

What's he doing now?

Well, I left him looking round the ground floor, but he wants to inspect

here on the foundation.

Oh, he must have found me here.

Tell you what, come and hide in this old priest's home.

This is where they used to hide to get away from Oliver Cromwell.

Oh, gracious me.

They must have had some very small priests.

Tell you what, throw him back in here.

It smells of old priests.

Tell you what, you can climb through this window.

Yes, you get up first, Mr. Moulton, and open the window up for her. Yeah, righty

-o. All right.

Come along, come along.

We'll give you a leg up. There doesn't seem to be a switch.

Oh, oh, don't let him come down here.

Spend him off, Mr. Rumpel.

We're trying to fix up a light for you. Perhaps you can come down later.

Well, I...

Our maintenance crew is fixing up a light for you downstairs.

Mr Humphreys, are you free?

I'm free.

Entertain, Mr Slocum.

I'll go and try and speed up the maintenance crew.

Certainly, sir.

Well, how can I entertain you, Mr Slocum?

Gin and tonic? I never touched the stuff.

I had a wife who couldn't leave it alone.

Terrible when it goes to that state.

Shocking. She got through the housekeeping by Tuesday.

Tell you what, while we're waiting, could you show me the outside?

Certainly, sir. We'll start round the back.

Walk this way.

Push! Push!

I recall a similar scene in Winnie the Pooh.

He got stuck in Rabbit's hole.

No wonder it got banned from Brent Library.

Oh,

my gosh. If he was a priest, Rachel, Cromwell... I would have had you,

now.

But I'm only wearing this thin frock. I even put my old ratting coat round you.

Oh, you're too kind.

I see you have quite a large acreage. We could introduce some game birds into

the wooded area and the visitors could bang away when they're in season.

I suppose you can do what you like if it's private.

outside stuff.

Yes, this is Mr. Moulter, the farm manager.

How do?

And this is the wife, Rachel.

Say hello to the nice gentleman, Rachel.

How do?

She's a bit shy with strangers, but she's all right when she gets going.

Certainly is, Mr. Moulter. Do you work on the farm, Mrs. Moulter? Oh,

Do you have any children?

No, but didn't for want of trying, is it?

Do you live in the main house?

No, I got a nice little cottage.

Oh, to see that later.

Yeah, you'll have to come round for a cup of tea, won't you, Rachel?

Oh, I'll enjoy that.

You'll make him some buns, won't you, me darling?

Oh.

Moulterd's quite famous for her buns, aren't you, Mrs. Moulterd?

Do you think

he really believes that Mrs. Slocum is Mrs.

Moulterd? Well, he seemed to. Poor Mrs. Slocum's got to make tea for him so he

can inspect the cottage.

He must indeed be interested in the property.

Oh, you don't want to sell this place.

You're building up quite nicely.

Mr. Humphreys, it's just settling down, aren't you, Mr. Humphreys? Well, I am

sleeping better.

The farmyard noises hardly disturb me at all.

That's right.

And he even slept through the early morning clock today.

Did you?

Do you know, I must have done.

Anyway, as I see it, according to the terms of the trust, we're not allowed to

sew. No, otherwise we would have sold it, right? Or copped the lolly.

Now, as I read the document, if the trustees get an offer higher than the

price, they're obliged to sell and distribute the capital amongst the

beneficiaries, namely us.

Well, what is the market value?

Well, in the present situation, the present state of structural condition,

say £350 ,000.

That's nearly £50 ,000 each. I say sell.

Hang on a minute, Miss Browns. Even well invested, that would bring you in less

than £100 a week.

Well, we did better than that with the tour party at the weekend.

Well, according to one of the provisions, the staff have to be kept

have our jobs. But we would not be our own bosses.

Yeah, and you know what rich people is like?

They'd have you working your fingers to the bone.

And Mr. Humphreys is not an early riser.

Oh, yes.

Do you know, I never have been.

I think I should warn you that I saw the figure 550 on Mr. Slocum's notes.

Perhaps he wants his early morning tea at ten to six.

Hey, you, old woman.

You do realise this is private property?

It's me, you duck paper.

My word, you have gone native.

You see, my ex -husband is here, and I don't want him to know how I've come

in the world.

So you've disguised yourself as a millionaire tramp.

Will you look in the kitchen window and see if you can see a man with receding

red hair, a plain face and medium everything else?

There is.

Oh, heck.

It's Mr. Rumbold.

Is the coat clear?

Yeah, come on. He's upstairs having a siesta.

Oh, I've had such a time at Mr. Moulter's house. Do you know He's got a

photograph. He says it's me pulling up radishes as a land girl.

Well, it was taken from behind. It could have been anybody.

Oh, take a notice of him. He's got lots of photos taken from behind a land girl

pulling up radishes.

It was one of his weaknesses.

He were land girl mad.

He was quite sorry when Hitler packed it all in and they had to go home.

He's so earthy.

He wanted me to make him some buns.

He gave me a sack of flour, a bag of raisins, and told me to get on with it.

And do you know he's got a cooking stove with 1886 on the door?

Oh, never you mind that. I'll go and do it.

Mrs. Logan, we were just discussing what the implications will be if your

husband buys the hotel.

Cecil, buy this hotel.

Yeah, Mr. Rambod would say you'd have to keep us on a star.

Slocum, don't upset yourself.

And him walking about looking down his door like this.

Of course, I know my magnetism's gone.

I kept it going for 20 years.

Now I was hoping he'd come back.

And then your magnetism lost its pull.

Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Slocum. I'm sure he'd let you take redundancy.

I don't think that was very tactful, Mr Rumble.

Here, Mrs Slocum.

Wipe your eyes on the tea towel. Oh, thank you, Lord.

You know something?

If he was to take on the number of staff that they had on the farm in the old

days, then, well, he might find the proposition not really worthwhile.

Did they have a lot? No, well, look at that.

Oh, blimey. That's enough to put anyone off. Well, they're all happy.

I'm sure Mr. Moulterd could rustle up a few farming types from the village to

make up the numbers.

They had half a dozen local yokels, and the proposition would not be cost

-effective. Cheer up, Mr. Crocombe. All is not yet lost.

Except your magnetism.

Right, now let me get this straight.

You have a head waiter and two assistant waiters.

You have a barman, a hall porter, and two chambermaids. You have a manager, a

chef, and two kitchen hands. And me.

I've seen the barman and the manager. Where are the others?

It's their day off.

On top of all that, there's the outside staff.

That's right.

Well, I've only met Mr. and Mrs.

Moulterd. Who else is there?

Well, I'm not sure. There's quite a few.

Oh, you've been a long time, Dad.

Mrs. Slogan will be here in a minute.

Where's Mrs. Slogan?

Oh, she's upstairs. She's been looking out for my mum's old clothes.

Mrs. Slocum, you're my fine figure of a woman.

I think you've took your rightful place here at last.

Mr. Moulton, I'm only doing this for Millstone Manor, so don't get any fancy

ideas, and you're very late.

Well, I've been up the village to get the blokes like Captain Pinkock sent.

have you got?

Nobody.

They've all gone to the cattle show.

I don't know when they'll be back.

I left messages all round.

Have you told Captain Peacock?

Yeah, he didn't have to take on.

He used words I ain't heard used since I runned over the vicar's foot with a

tractor.

They're coming. Do I look all right?

Yes, but you can't possibly be my daughter. We said we hadn't any

Yeah, I said she was barren.

I said keep out of sight then.

Oh, no, no, no, no. If Mr. Moulter didn't find anybody in the village,

better pretend to be one of the workers.

Right, I'll be back in a minute.

Oh, come

in,

kind sir.

We be sinful folk here, but we be very happy to share our humble grub.

This is Mr. Flocombe from London. This is Mrs. Mulcair. Yes, I've already had

the pleasure.

That makes two of us.

I've had no one from London before, have we, Morris?

I bet you've got a fine big house.

And no doubt you've got a fine young wife.

One of they bimbos, if I shouldn't have said that.

Do you mind if we sit down?

Oh, here.

Assez vous.

That's French for sit down.

I learned that at school.

I waited 60 years to say that.

Would you like a nice cup of tea?

Thank you. I expect you're used to fancy china.

Help yourself to buns, and there's butter there, slightly salted from

Sainsbury's.

You know, I haven't been to Sainsbury's for 40 years.

Well, where the bloody hell have you been in the meantime?

Mrs. Moulthead is always interested in people's travel stories.

Hello!

Who's this?

Oh, I'm Rosie Bell, one of the dairy maids. There's several of us. How do you

do? What an unusual hairdo.

She had a vision.

Oh, that's why it stood on end. But I'm happy.

What's for tea?

Buns. Oh, with slightly salted butter from Sainsbury's.

Ah,

and who is this?

I'm the gamekeeper.

Ratchet's the name, catch it's the game.

That'll do.

So, you're the fine gentleman from London who's going to take care of us

eh?

We'll be one big happy family.

I brung you a rabbit.

If it's too big to go in your briefcase, I'll chop it in half.

Oh, no, that's fine.

You can give it to that bimbo.

You could hardly describe my kook as a bimbo.

Take no notice of Mrs. Mole Turd. She reads The Sun a lot.

Sorry I'm late.

I couldn't find

my hat, and then when I found it, it was on my head.

This be mad jest.

Who fell on his head?

We thought he were dead.

I've made you close, Peg.

I forgot to do the middle bit, though.

Oh, that's very nice of you, Jed.

Oh, I'm like that.

Sometimes I'm like this.

Most of the time I'm like that.

Let's be the fine gentleman who's going to look after us all. Oh, I must tell

Ned and Ed and Fred.

No brothers?

No, my sisters, but they're happy.

Well, now, there are rather more workers on the estate.

than I'd allowed for, Mr. Nolteard. Oh, they breed like rabbits, don't you?

Except her.

She's barren.

Hello!

I'm Rosie Bell.

Eh? I thought she was Rosie Bell.

Oh, uh, well, we're twins.

Twins? You don't look alike.

I got some good news. I found a few of the farm workers.

Come in, come in.

You ready to get more mugs, Morris?

Tell us a story about London.

Well, I hardly know where to start.

How about Sainsbury's?