Original subtitles

And it's Harvey Baines, six times winner of the Decathlon. And he breaks through

the pain barrier and stuns this crowd with an amazing show of stamina and

real hairy male virility.

Brave you some days.

No! No!

Oh!

Every Sunday.

Every damn Sunday.

I hate my life.

It's just a question of mind over matter. You have to see your fist going

through the tongue.

I know.

This ancient is an art.

You can't tell me how to suck grandmother's eggs.

What?

Portuguese. Me.

Real man.

Go on,

Basil, you show him.

all going tomorrow.

Yes, but that's for a funeral.

Yes, but we don't want to wear God out. He'll get sick of us.

Whose funeral?

Sid Bingham Basil.

Is he dead?

I thought he was getting a bit slow at the old dominoes.

Maybe they want to go with you. Don't be silly.

Sunday morning follows Saturday night.

And we all know what that means.

Last tango in Bournemouth.

I don't think sin is in any way humorous. Well, it depends how you do

Come along, Marjorie.

Who's Jane's chum?

Marjorie Evans.

She's a spiritualist.

Oh, Harvey!

Yeah!

All right!

Hello, Harvey!

Anybody want a Sunday paper?

They're in the ditch.

Horace bites the dust.

Do you want some tea, Tom?

My God, I've made it through the night.

What's the matter with you?

Elapsed lung, broken elbow, slipped buttock.

Grumble, grumble, grumble. Do you want one lump or two?

Twenty -five, please.

I feel like I've slept on a pile of rubble.

Thank you very much.

up on the floor.

Because you don't have my stubborn determination not to end up on the

I don't have your steel -tipped elbows.

We must get a double bed. No.

Why not?

It's ridiculous, us bunking up like teenagers.

It'll be the back of minis next.

Why don't we get a decent -sized bed?

Because I do not like sleeping with you.

You have a funny way of showing it.

no particular aversion to the old shake, rattle and roll.

I can tell that.

You're the only person I know who could actually sing the 1812.

But I like to sleep alone. I don't know why, once you've done your bit for

England, you can't shove off back to your own bed.

What are you waiting for, the critics?

I have a weak heart and I'm slightly diabetic.

So? So, it takes me eight muesli bars to get as far as I do.

Come the... final whistle, I'm damn nearly in a coma as it is.

I'd never make it back to base camp in that condition.

My God, you think you've got mobility problems.

I tell you, after midnight it takes six mechanics of lock and tackle and a

blowtorch to get me off me davit.

Oh, I do so enjoy our gentle, loving relationship in the autumn of our year.

yes, I know. It's a hoot, isn't it?

what's in the social calendar for next week.

Oh, let me think now.

Lunch in Paris, tea at Windsor, cocktails in Antigua. What do you think?

Nothing. Oh, come on, cheer up.

There's a nice funeral at St. Matthias tomorrow.

God, not another one. What's going on round here? Do people actually dump

dead on our doorstep?

Still, I'm fed up with funerals. They're no fun at all.

They're not supposed to be fun.

Just let's hope that the Reverend Dennis doesn't make a total arse of himself

again.

So nice to see so many familiar faces at this, our harvest festival.

James Chubby Chum.

Harvest funeral.

No. Funeral. Don't know.

A funeral, of course, makes us think of death.

Fancy.

Is death a beginning, or is it an end?

Or is it the end of a beginning, or the beginning of an end?

Or is it the beginning of a beginning?

Or the end of an ending?

Who knows?

Who cares?

Get on with it!

Death is, of course, all of these things.

Yet none of these things.

Oh, my God.

Death is merely a transition. The death of the body is immaterial, for the

spirit is still with us.

Oh, yes!

Can we get a move on, please? I have a hair appointment.

Yes, you do.

Have some respect. Yes, have some respect.

Dennis, you pull your finger out or we'll be here all night.

Right. If there be any person present who knows the reason

why these two people should not be joined... Oh, no.

That's not right, is it?

I feel so many vibrations.

So many voices are trying to get through to me.

Who? Who?

Let me concentrate on you.

Deirdre, did you know a Deirdre?

Can't remember.

Deirdre, did she have a dagger tattooed on her left buttock?

It's rather confusing.

Look, why don't you all come to Marjorie's show tomorrow?

Gathering? Jane, we just gather and listen to the voices of the

departed. Oh, wait a moment.

I have a John coming through. John? Anyone?

Oh, my John!

Definitely a John.

Now, was he tall?

No.

Very tall. What's going on?

She's talking to dead people.

I know how she feels.

Don't leave it until my gathering.

Oh, yes. And how much does that cost?

Diana. Oh, wake up, you silly ducks.

She's just going round recruiting for a concert. She's going round old folks'

homes trying to get customers. Am I right?

You're entitled to your opinion, my dear. Yes. And how much does it cost to

to your gathering?

Nothing.

I do it because I can do it.

And yes, of course, I go to the bereaved for my audience.

There would be very little point in going to anyone else.

She's got you there, Diana.

Well, don't you try getting through to any of my dead pals.

They're all drunken journalists anyway. Couldn't find their way through the

door, never mind that cosmic ether.

You lot, do you want to get conned? Fine.

Include me out.

Did you have an American friend called Henry?

I did not.

Known as Hal.

Must have got it wrong.

Now, who had a wife called Maggie?

No Maggie.

I'm getting a very strong message from someone called Maggie. Tom!

Maggie!

Maggie!

It's all passing me by.

What is?

Life.

A few years ago, I was a young Turk. I was one of Thatcher's boyos.

An operator, a man with an edge, a mover and a groover.

Oh, God, I was marvellous.

You still are, Harvey. Of course I'm not. I'm still here.

My original business plan said that I should have just made my first damn

payment on my own personal helicopter, not my last payment on my larder.

I was at business school with. They're all in jail by now.

But not me. Oh, no.

No, I couldn't manage a massive fraud in a fit.

You've always got me, Harvey.

Don't kick a man when he's dying.

Perhaps you should try seeking a more spiritual path.

How?

You also could seek guidance from your dear departed ones.

Haven't you lost someone in your past to whom you were close?

Yes, well, I suppose old Benny.

Benny? Who is he?

An uncle?

No, just a kind old fellow I knew as a kid.

Oh, well, let's try and get in touch with him.

But every stupid Jane, I wouldn't be seen dead at a sound.

Hello? Is that the Los Angeles Times?

It is.

And you are the editor's assistant.

Yes, never mind. Have a nice day. This is long distance, so shut your face and

listen.

No, I have not thought of hostility aversion therapy.

I just want you to tell me what has happened to an old colleague of mine who

used to work on your paper called Henry Cheswick.

Yes, that's right.

Hal.

Right -o. Bye -bye. See you tomorrow.

That's the sort of woman you want for the winter.

That's enough, Basil.

It's time you curved your lecherous and sexist ways.

What? In fact, it's time we all changed our ways.

I don't want to change my ways. I like being a grubby old stoat.

Hello, Beryl.

Fancy a couple of laps round the jacuzzi?

Hello.

Oh, off on your travels.

Where have you gone?

Maggie. Oh, off to see the wife. Fair enough. Say hello from me.

I've just been talking to Maggie.

Sorry?

Through Marjorie Evans.

Oh, Tom, give me a break. Marjorie Evans is a fraud.

I don't think she can be.

Come on.

Tell Auntie Di.

I was also sceptical.

But through her, Maggie mentioned things that only she and I could possibly know

about. Such as?

Well... My favourite wireless programmes.

Walks they used to go on. Special meals they used to cook for me. Yes, work,

Tom. Favourite programmes are Itmar, Brainstrust, Walks, Cotswold, Favourite

Foods, you, Worse Lamorous Beef.

Pretty good.

Oh, I see it is all nonsense.

But she also knew that I brushed Maggie's hair while listening to the

service. And she knew our secret names for each other.

So? What did Maggie have to say?

I've betrayed her.

What? Just because she's gone these many years doesn't mean her spirit has tired

of me. She said she gained comfort from my holding on to her memory, my being

faithful to her.

Tom, this is crazy. But now she feels that I have sullied our marriage through

taking up with you.

Tom, I know your wife.

You do not. Yes, I do. I know her through you. She was a great woman. You

incredibly lucky to have her. She had a heart the size of a football pitch. She

would not begrudge you one second of happiness.

She would rejoice in your thing with me.

Maybe I've sanctified her.

Maybe she wasn't so open and giving. All I know is that she has been certain

by... My taking up of you. Tom, you have not sanctified her memory. She was a

wonderful woman, and I will not hear one word against her.

She wants us to split up.

Oh, my God, I don't believe this. This is crazy.

And I think I know who's behind all this.

Oh!

Tom, this is paranormal claptrap.

What about your American friend, Henry?

How?

I'll see you later.

Old people are very good at it.

I beg your pardon?

Getting in touch with the, uh, dear departed.

I expect, uh, your family do it all the time.

My family get in touch with the dead. They can hardly be bothered to get in

touch with the living. What are you getting at?

Voodoo.

Voodoo? Yes.

I've read all about it.

You know, doing nasty things to chickens.

Oh, yes, there's a lot of voodoo in Bournemouth.

Really? Oh, yes.

Chickens can't walk the streets of Bournemouth without being torn to shreds

zombies.

Zombies? I never knew.

Come here, you malevolent little weasel. Oh, Diana, you can't treat me like

this. I'm not Harvey.

What have you been saying to that Marjorie creature?

Well, somebody has been feeding her private information about Tom and his

Maggie. I heard they'd been united across the void.

Well, you will be chucked down the void if you don't... But what have I done?

Well, you've always had the vapours about Tom and me shacking up together.

And now you have got your bloody spooks woman to say that Maggie disapproves of

our set -up and poor old Tom's so gullible he wants to break it off.

She's not wicked, Diana.

It's after the mouth, but never wicked.

Well, somebody is spreading the poison, and I intend to continue my inquiries.

What's for lunch?

Shredded chicken.

Oh, mighty Geoffrey, what fresh hell is this?

This is our new home, Diana.

But it is a waste land.

We had to leave the last place because of complaints about Marion from the

neighbours. So...

Using lateral thinking, I decide that rather than get rid of Marion, we get

of the neighbours.

They're bound to group around you eventually.

Not once they've met Marion.

Where is the glue -sniffing little trollop?

Yes, ma 'am, Diana.

Yes. I want to talk to you about your mother, Maggie.

Do you think she would have disapproved of me?

Oh, mother was very unpredictable indeed.

You answer the question, Geoffrey.

Would she have taken a gin me?

No, she could be very, very odd.

You and she would probably have been great friends.

Just as I thought.

Do you know a spiritualist called Marjorie Evans?

Not personally.

What about old Dragon's Breath?

She knows every alternative crackpot from here to Peking. I believe the Evans

woman is currently top of her fad chart.

Talk as much.

Vicious little shrew. I should go and poke her eyes out right now.

I'd rather you didn't, Diana. Driving's bad enough as it is.

What's he done?

Something very evil.

Come inside, Geoffrey.

We have to spread a little disinformation.

Am I supposed to understand what you're talking about? Don't worry, Geoffrey.

I'll write it all down for you in very big letters. That's very kind.

Holidays, Tom?

I'm moving into the guest apartment until I can decide what to do to atone.

see. Do you have no regard for me at all?

Of course I do.

It's just that... It's just you thought you'd bugger off and leave me in the

lurch.

Our situation can't go on like this.

You are a swine, Tom.

I expect so. You have obligations to me.

But I was married to Maggie. We made vows.

So to hell with what you feel about me.

I can't cut myself in two.

Look, Tom, over the last few years, we have crawled across bloody minefields

together. Fought the good fight and usually won. And when age and

have tried to mug us, we've managed to fight back and rattle on for a bit

longer. Now you want to just throw it all away. You want to wimp off like some

frightened rabbit scared of the dark or some bogeyman. I was married to Maggie

for 37 years.

We had a son.

I mean, you can't hold Geoffrey against her.

Sorry, Diana.

In here I know what's right, however much it hurts.

Well, just one favour, Tom.

Of course?

Let's just investigate this Marjorie creature one step further.

Why? She seems pretty good. Well, let's just make 100 % sure. Let's go to her

little gathering.

See if Maggie turns up again. And then ask her things that absolutely only you

could know the details of. Things that only you and she can have experienced.

Please, would you do that?

For me?

Yes.

Yes, Diana. Of course I will.

Sometimes I hate myself.

But not much.

Marjorie is a wonderfully sincere person, Harvey.

Aren't we all, Jane?

Let's hope she can contact your Benny. It's all I live for.

You don't really have to come to this today.

If this woman's in touch with Mum, I've got a question for her.

What? Does marriage continue after death?

I managed to sow the seeds.

I don't know if they've been passed on.

Maggie will come again today.

I'd like a bit more proof.

Well, ask her about something only you could know.

The honeymoon, for instance.

Yes, I do.

Yes, Jimmy.

I have a Jimmy here.

Smokes a pipe.

Jimmy Piper.

That's it. Like I said, Jimmy Piper.

Now, your Jimmy, he died of a heart attack, didn't he?

No, it was a motorcycle accident.

It was the heart attack that caused the accident.

I didn't know.

That's what Jimmy says.

And he wishes you well.

And he still loves you dearly.

Oh, here's a Benny.

Anyone know a Benny?

Harvey, it's you.

Come on.

It's him here. It's him.

I think we should go to this man.

He's named Harvey.

Do come down, Mr. Harvey.

Jane, you're quiet.

What does the spirit world have to say to him?

Probably owes them money.

Now, Benny was a friend from your childhood, wasn't he?

Sort of.

Well, Benny has a special message for you.

I'm listening.

Benny is your spiritual guide.

He watches over you. And he sees love in your heart.

Who is this love for?

Himself.

I hear the name... What is it, Benny?

Joan?

That's right.

Benny says that deep down, though you may not be aware of it, you are in love

with Jane.

Well, you give Benny

a message from me, will you?

Benny is listening to you now.

Benny, any more crackpot ideas like that, and there'll be no more bone, no

walkie,

Mash up your blinking kennel.

You little dog.

You're like a stupid little mutt.

Well, Benny has obviously been through many lives, the last one being that

unpleasant man's dog.

We can't help everyone, can we?

Hello, Tom.

Maggie's here for you. Do stand up.

What's that, Maggie?

Is that your daughter -in -law, Tom?

Yes.

Maggie says you underestimate her.

That'd be difficult.

Says you should be nicer to her.

What's that, Maggie?

Nicer financially.

Just a minute.

How do I know that's Maggie?

Oh, goodness. I thought we'd already established that.

What do you want Maggie to tell you?

Tell me about our honeymoon, Maggie.

Yes.

Yes.

Mm -hmm.

I'm fine.

Maggie says you went on a long train journey across Europe.

Maggie was arrested in Paris for punching a policeman.

Yes.

And you both got a bit tiddly, and Maggie accidentally stopped the train by

hanging her umbrella on the communication cord.

Yes.

And she hit another policeman in Vienna, and you both got deported.

Is that right, Tom?

Diana, you are without shame.

That's me.

Was that correct, Tom?

No, it isn't. That was my trip with Diana on the Orient Express three months

ago.

Awful, silly woman.

So have I.

Come on.

Let's go.

Oh, and I have a message for a Marianne. You'd better watch out, Marianne, or

you might be run over by a boss and guess who'll be driving it!

I want to say I'm sorry, not just to you, but also to my late wife, Maggie. I

apologise for involving you both in such shabbiness.

It's OK.

Say no more.

Let's just go to bed.

Oh, great.

Separately. It's only Tuesday.

Okay.

Night -night.

Night -night.

Diana, what about your American friend, Hal?

How did she know about him?

Oh, him.

He died two days before she mentioned him. I expect he was just dropping by to

bid me farewell.