Original subtitles

Come in.

You wanted to see me, Harvey. I do indeed, Jane. In fact, I must say it's a

positive delight to see you looking so wonderful.

Sit down.

You, Jane, are my strong right arm.

And your permanent right arm, since the residence committee insisted on it.

Yes. Isn't it wonderful to have such a clever residence committee?

All those charming old people being able to use the wisdom of their years to

tell me how to run this place.

You know, I do have all those weeks of management training behind me.

Well, I think it was very clever of you to set up the residence committee.

Oh, yes, wasn't it? And what wondrous motions they passed in the last month.

restrictions on the use of musical instruments.

Establishment of a permanently open bar.

Request for a ten -person jacuzzi.

The place is turning into a geriatric club mess.

Oh, well, they all seem a lot out here. And is that the object of the exercise

here, Jane? Is it?

Er, isn't it?

No, it isn't, it isn't, it isn't.

Well, I mean, it is, of course it is.

We don't want the inmates to be miserable, but there are other forces at

here, Jane. Really?

Well, what could be more important than the happiness of the dear old people in

the autumn of their years?

The happiness of future generations of dear old people, Jane. And if this crop

drives the place into the financial bolt, well, then the dear, lovely

who finance us... just might go back to putting their money into pine forests

and goat breeding.

And this, of course, would mean not only the demise of Bayview, but I doubt also

our paths would ever cross again.

Of course, we could still write to each other, if we could afford the stamps.

Oh, Harvey, I had no idea.

No more you should, my dear. Your job is keeping these dear old people happy. Is

there anything I can do?

Well, I might have a little plan up my sleeve. Oh, good.

Well, if you need any help, I'm your man.

I may not be your woman.

Oh, don't mean I'm your... Well, I am your woman, but... Shut up, Jane.

Come on, come on, chop, chop. Lunch at the Grand.

Let's not be late.

Come on, Henry.

I should have brought a bloody seat dog.

You should have come in. It was wonderful.

I prefer my fish in breadcrumbs.

Get them into the cars, will you?

Henry, where the heck are you going?

Come on, mush, mush.

Come on, Henry.

Quickly. Come on, come on. Do you want some lunch?

In you get.

Come on.

Well, this is a scupper, the outings budget.

Voted for by the Residence Committee.

Democracy at work.

And they beat the hell out of going to Lewis in a minibus.

You're going out on yourself, Tom.

Not nearly such a tedious, boring old crank as you used to be.

Well, thank you, Diana.

And as we are bandying in confidence around, may I say you're just as vile

crabby as ever.

Why, thank you, Tom.

Smile, please.

The Grand Hotel, old chum.

And take the long way round so that people can look and wonder who these

and successful old stiffs could be.

I think our beloved leader, Harvey Peabrain Baines, the athlete's foot from

Black Lagoon, the foot from the flu of life, he who should be scraped from

shoe. Get to the point.

Well, I think Baines is up to something.

Probably wants to curb your use of extravagant metaphor.

Came into the dining room this morning, kept smiling at me.

Perhaps he's on one of these mind -altering drugs.

I doubt it. There'd be nothing for it to work on.

If Baines is smiling, it means he's found a way to save money or get rid of

We must watch our flanks, Brigadier.

Maybe we could get the Residence Committee to fire him. Oh, God, no, we

get someone reasonable.

Won't that be good? Certainly not. Baines -baiting is one of my few

pleasures. Keep still.

You're using a lot of film on me. Have you developed some erotic fixation for

me? Or is it your intention to make me your love slave?

Am I not?

pin -up material.

Not quite, you're a bit old.

A bit old?

Oh, maybe so, but it'll come, it'll come.

Now the population's getting older, you'll soon have magazines like Playboy,

just for us.

Play Granny.

Pull -out Pensioner of the Month.

Diana Trent, 38, 38, 38.

Whose hobbies are driving people up the wall.

and attending her friend's funeral.

I'll have a word with Hugh Hefner about it this afternoon.

Bunny girls.

What do you call an old bunny girl?

Rabbit stew?

Thank you, Tom.

Bad enough living in a society that reveres everything ancient but itself

without you highlighting its grotesqueries. So, why are you taking

I'm just keeping my hand in. I did used to be a photojournalist. But why me?

I mean, I'm hardly a war zone. How about a natural disaster?

I'll ignore that.

Well, I haven't got any film in my camera anyway.

What?

Why not? How did he rule?

I've been sitting here for hours, carefully sporting nothing but my best

They're not taking photos the day they fired me from the post.

And why did he do that? You hit someone?

I'd reached retirement age.

One day I was an ace reporter. The next day I was just an embarrassing old thap

of bones to be left out with the rubbish.

I wasn't fit to get out after 40 years of mind -bending tedium.

I took Carmen Miranda to my retirement party and we danced cha -cha -cha on my

gold watch.

Then I met up with Edmund Hillary and showed her ten things.

And did a quick clamber up Everest.

That's enough, Tom. Bad enough coping with your meanderings through old

Kindly don't start buggering about with recent history.

Well, I couldn't wait to retire.

Yes, well, that's the difference, isn't it? Some people want to retire, other

people don't. I think the system could be geared to accommodate both. But

couldn't you get some other freelance assignments?

No, I became ill.

Old polymyalgia set in. No, so... All those infernal pills, creaking joints.

You were ready to retire anyway.

It was my loss of status as a person that caused the illness, you fool.

Oh.

My God.

What? It's my niece.

The Clapham Strangler herself.

Where? Well, there. Look, she's just made it to the house.

I didn't see her. Well, look, there's our Portia. Well, it's her Portia. It

be her.

Ah, I see.

I park my Porsche, therefore I exist.

Porsche'll ergo soon.

What's she doing here?

Probably come to see her beloved auntie.

She can't stand me. She's probably come to poison me. Or mine, the dining room.

You don't think that smacks of senile paranoia, do you? Certainly not.

She's my niece. I taught her all she knows.

Maybe I'll go back and spend the weekend in Hawaii.

I bet she's plotting with Baines.

I'm going to go and scrutinise my will.

Make sure it all goes with me.

Tom!

Yes?

Tom!

Yes?

Tom!

Is that you, Bob?

Has my time come?

Are you calling me God?

It's Jane.

Jane? Yes.

Jane. Goodness.

I always assumed that God was a bloke.

Here. This will shut the feminists up.

Tom, it's me, Jane. I'm behind you.

Hello, Jane.

Did you know you have the same name as God?

No.

Then why are you whispering?

I don't want Diana to hear.

Hear what?

Me whispering.

Well, she won't hear you whispering if you stop whispering and talk normally.

I want to talk about her in private.

What about her?

Has she been behaving normally lately?

By whose standards?

Yours. Fine. Quite normal.

By other people's standards.

Absolutely crackers.

What's she been doing?

Well, she asked me last week if I thought God was a squirrel.

And this week she's been going around taking photographs of everything without

any film in her camera.

So you think she's incapable of handling her own affairs?

I haven't noticed her having any affairs.

Andrew, when I came back from Hawaii, I noticed Antonio the gardener looking

pretty cocky.

They've been having bouts of wild Latin passion in the potting shed.

Or wild Latin potting in the passion shed.

Thank you, Tom.

And I'm sorry it had to come to this.

Strange woman.

What on earth are they doing here?

How do you do?

Sarah Snow, Diana Trent -Neath.

Geoffrey and Marion Ballard. I'm Tom Thumb.

Oh, yes, yes, I've heard of him.

Not half as much as we've heard of your bloody aunt.

Are you ashamed of yourself, having an aunt like that? It's hardly her fault,

Marion.

Before he came here, he was just an old codger who sat around being a bit daft

and smelly.

Since she's warped his mind, he's nothing but trouble.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

Would you like a pill, dear?

It'll work anymore.

At least when he was at home, we had some control over him. But now, him and

that parlour dance of yours... I believe that's why we're here.

Because your aunt's a tart.

Bain said he had a couple of ideas which might be to our mutual advantage.

Drowning.

Drown the pair of them. That's the only solution.

I think that's enough, Marion.

My father tells me that you've often tried to kill your aunt.

He says you tried to strangle her with some rosary beads.

Oh.

And that you frequently sent her poisoned chocolate.

And I still didn't succeed.

Just as well I'm more competent in running my business than I am in

aunt.

Don't stop trying, though, will you?

I think it was one of Tom's little exaggerations, Marion.

Oh, pity.

How do you feel about your aunt?

Well... Well, Miss Snow.

Geoffrey, Marion.

Well, here we are again.

Have you got your note?

Yes, Dad and the Residence Committee do seem to be going a bit over the top.

Did the Chief put him up to it?

Quite possibly.

But the point is, if things continue, there will be a significant reduction in

profits.

This year, which means, of course... Less dividends for the shareholders.

That's up, Geoffrey. They're going to kill our investment. Well, not

necessarily. How do you mean?

Well, it did occur to me that life would be a lot easier for all of us if these

dear old folk had people of, shall we say, greater responsibility and

of the real world running their affairs.

If you get my drift.

No?

Don't be a hick, Jeff.

What's he mean?

Well... I don't know.

Are you talking about power of attorney?

Well, that's an interesting idea.

Of course, I know nothing about the law, but I believe it actually entailed

going to the Court of Protection and registering them as people who might not

mentally competent to run their own affairs.

Nuttas.

Then all you have to do is prove it and Robert is your father's brother.

Bob's your uncle.

Does this mean you can get your hands on their checkbooks?

Yeah. How do you do it?

Well, there is the question of proving mental incompetence, and for that you

need general witnesses and a medical opinion.

Well, I think I can probably find you a psychiatrist.

Wonderful, and I've got them on collecting general evidence.

Love it. Ha!

Got them.

Got them!

What the hell have they got them?

Yoo -hoo!

Anyone home?

Go away.

Oh, have you lost something?

I have lost my mind.

Oh, well, I don't think you'll find it in your handbag.

No, you're probably right. I will try the wardrobe.

What is my niece doing with Baines?

I don't know, I'm sure.

What do you want?

I'm a bit worried about Tom.

Yes, I suppose he's a rather bizarre outcome of five billion years'

I think that's where that got to.

I don't suppose thee and me are much better, especially not thee.

Oh, I'm worried about his mind.

It seems to be going a bit. A bit?

You are optimistic.

Tom's mind started floating off into the autumn mists a long time ago.

Well, don't you think that's a worry?

No, I think it's a great advantage.

The way they treat you at the wrinkled end of life. It's a great gift if you

pop into your head and bike off to a better time.

Treat us like puppies, Jane. I suppose there is some clotted goodness in you.

Just a pity it comes out like a syrup slick.

So, has Tom been doing anything specifically strange lately?

Yes. He has been having a passionate affair with a Californian teenager

Peggy Sue.

A little trollop coming on so sweet and innocent. The poor man is exhausted.

It's not real, Diana.

It is to him.

Oh, you're not jealous, are you?

Jane, will you leave the room before I take the top off your head and spoon

brains out to the crows?

Ah, not the little buggers.

Tom! Tom!

Tom! Get your leather gear on. We are going for a burn.

We are all agreed, then?

Yes.

I suppose so.

I got my car.

What have you done to it?

Sorry, Auntie.

I had a burglar alarm fitted.

You lovely ruse.

Hello. How lovely to see you all.

Diana and I were just popping over to the Monte Carlo rally.

Another time.

Geoffrey, what are you doing here?

Oh, bad as that, eh?

Here you go.

I'm not eating that.

Why not?

Well, I can smell the cyanide from here.

Or is it broken glass?

Both.

I'm not falling for that one.

I see. You're waiting for the pudding.

I'm not trying to kill you, Auntie.

Don't call me Auntie.

Dreadful twee little word.

Auntie Doily Toilet.

Makes me feel like a founder member of the Tunbridge Wells Twinset and Pearls

Society.

Call me Diana.

I'm not trying to kill you, Diana.

Why not? Didn't you bring your rosary beads to throttle me with?

It wasn't a rosary. It was a necklace.

And I'd have happened... to slip while i was putting it on you what about the

poison chocolates they weren't poison they tasted foul you don't like anything

sweet so what are you doing here then if you didn't come to kill me i come here

every month you swear at me accuse me of trying to murder you you steal my car

but still i can't why to see how you are i'm fine goodbye

i haven't finished my lunch

I'm not leaving you anything, you know. You haven't got anything to leave? Oh,

yes, I have. Not by my standards.

What? How do you think I dress so well?

How do you think I drive a Porsche and have a huge apartment on the river?

You're a high -class tart.

I am not.

As you well know, I have my own modelling agency, one of the best in

I make a lot of money.

I don't need the two bob you've got tucked away in your piggy bank. Don't

so rude.

But I do get a little tired of trailing all the way down here and getting a

right slagging for my troubles.

Why do you come?

Because you're family.

So? So nothing. It's how families behave.

I never did.

Yes, you did.

When I was a brat, you were all over me like a rash.

Presents after all your trips, lots of hugs, never forgot my birthday.

Didn't I?

No.

You were lovely to me.

Me? Yes.

I don't remember that.

Maybe it was some other aunt.

I've only got one.

I come here because I like you.

Has that become a concept totally beyond your comprehension?

What are you doing with Baines?

Nothing much.

He's... Concerned for your health.

Concerned that we're still alive.

Your mental health.

What?

It's very, very interesting. They were notes taken by my assistant here.

Church.

You see?

These two have delusions of damn near everything. I mean, he goes off on his

astral travels or whatever, and she thinks people are trying to kill her.

I mean, it's obvious they've both long since gone over the edge.

Yes, well, I think we'll leave the medical diagnoses to me, shall we, Mr

If I find they're not of sound mind, then, of course, I will sign the

appropriate papers.

And I, of course, would be very grateful if you know what I mean.

What do you mean, Mr Baines?

Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Of course not. Now, goodness me, no, I mean, I

wasn't offering you a... I'll ask them to step in.

Jane?

Diana? Tom?

Could you come in, please?

It's so good of you to agree to this. Diana Danner. This is Dr Darrow, the

clinical psychologist I told you about. And he's conducting a survey of the

elderly care establishment in the area. And I thought, well, of our two most

prominent residents, you'll be the ones to ask them.

How do you do?

Pleased to meet you.

What old quack?

Dr Livingston, I presume, or is it the Flying Doctor, in which case, good day,

sport.

Want to cut my leg off, take out my kidneys,

fill me up with old bicycle parts? Be my guest.

My body is your body.

Now, that's yours.

If you'd like to sit down.

Oh, yes.

It's fine, fine.

Now, Miss Trent, perhaps I could ask you a few questions first.

Are you happy here, Miss Trent?

Oh, deliriously.

I think that this is the most wonderful place in the world.

And indeed the other side of the universe. And indeed the other side of

other side of the universe. Yes, I think we've got that bit.

Mr Ballard.

Mr Ballard.

Yes.

Are you happy here?

Where?

Here, at Bayview.

This isn't Bayview.

Oh.

Where is it then, Tom?

This is Everest, and I am Edmund Hillary, and we've just conquered the

time for the coronation of our good young Queen Elizabeth II.

Attention, Sherpa, attention.

God save the Queen.

The Queen.

God save our gracious Queen. Take no notice, he's quick, Gaga.

Evening, Jack.

What is it that you find particularly pleasant here, Miss Trent?

Well, it is relatively free of assassins.

Assassins? Yes.

You see, in the outside world, I found that a lot of people were trying to kill

me, notably the closer members of my family. I could hardly step outside my

front door without mad nieces trying to machine -gun me down.

It was a work that bathed you with its barbed wire.

and its watchtowers and its fierce dogs.

I feel... I feel safe, secure, and know that this is still a land

of hope and glory.

Land of hope and glory!

Fine!

Land of...

It's all right, really.

Really? Yes, we are perfectly sane.

Oh, that's all right, then.

You just pop down to the base camp and give you a whiff of oxygen, and then

you'll be fine.

Well,

I was right, wasn't I? They are quite barking bananas.

They don't know what they're doing.

I think they know exactly what they're doing. What?

Anyone who can put on such a display... of lunacy had to be totally in control

of their faculties and therefore perfectly capable of handling their own

affairs. Good day to you, Mr Bain. Oh, bye, Tom.

Really enjoyed the Everest fantasy.

What fantasy?

Shut up.

And goodbye, Diana.

Oh, and do give my regards to your charming niece.

You know her niece?

Sarah? Oh, yes.

She's an old friend.

Bye.

Yes, well, I'm glad we got that sorted out, of course.

I knew there was nothing wrong with you.

Well,

goodbye, Sarah.

Is that all I get?

What's wrong with this perfectly normal hand?

You've just stopped them declaring you daft and getting their hands on all your

worldly goods.

Makes a change from trying to murder me, I suppose.

All right.

Thank you.

It wasn't too painful, was it?

I don't want you to keep coming here.

Why not?

Oh, why do you think, child?

I want to stay in your memory as I was, when I was hanging out of helicopters,

living on my wits, when I was full of fun.

giving out presents and laughter when I was alive.

I don't want you to remember me as I am now.

I'm ashamed of being old.

But that's so silly.

No, it isn't.

You wait.

You'll see.

Well, goodbye, Sarah.

Goodbye, Diana.

I know why I'm miserable.

Because you're you.

Precisely. Not often we see you looking like a dead bloodhound.

What's up, Doc?

It's Peggy Sue.

She's left me.

She's pushed off with a smarmy young guitarist called Ricky.

I told you she was a slut.

I think I'll go back to Betty Grable if she'll have me.

I'm sure she will, Tom.

And I suppose you're still going hammer and tongs at it with the young God,

Antonio.

You don't include me in your energetic fantasy life, Tom.

I've got other plans afoot in the real world.

What? I'm going back to work.

Aerial photography.

I was always rather good at it.

Eh?

What do you need me for?

You're my assistant.

I don't want to go up in a helicopter.

I won't even go up in a lift.