Original subtitles

That's my boy.

That's my boy.

That's my boy.

That's my boy.

That's my boy.

That's funny.

I must have missed. I'll try again.

Oh, I'm sorry, love. What was it you were just asking me? How many lime chops

you want? Six or eight?

Well, I can't tell you, can I, till I know if our Wilfred's coming.

It's doing it again. Listen.

Oh, that means it's unobtainable.

Unobtainable? Why should our Wilfred be unobtainable?

Maybe the lines are down.

Oh, yes, with all this rain we've been having. Yes, you're probably right.

I didn't realise it was as late as that. Have you got my list of calls? There

you go.

Oh, no, not the Braithwaite baby again.

Oh, they're only over -anxious. It's a fault on the right side.

Oh, if you go in there, you'll pass out Wilfreds, won't you?

Yeah. Give him a knock and ask him if he's coming to supper tonight.

Give him a ring.

I have done.

He's out of order.

He more weighs than one.

But why does he have to come to supper?

It's Tuesday, Shane. He knows he's always welcome on Tuesdays.

And on a Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I'm surprised you don't ask him to come

and live with us.

Oh, what horrible thoughts.

What on earth?

Hello, our Ida.

Hello, our Ange.

Hello, our Shane.

Hello, our Wilfred.

I hope those cases don't mean what I think they mean. All I could salvage

the wreckage.

Outrage from what wreckage?

You know that telegraph pole outside my gate?

Yes. The one I always said had a wobble in the wind?

Yes. Well, it fell on my roof.

I'm homeless.

Angie. What?

Eight lamb chops.

Shane. Hmm? When you get a chance, will you tell our rider from me, nicely mind,

I don't want to upset her that I don't like lamb chops.

Sure. Shane. Oh, before I forget.

Wilford doesn't like lamb chops.

You are?

Jane. Oh, and while we're on the subject, I just asked me to tell you,

that she doesn't like the way you drape your socks over the edge of the bar. You

are? Jane. And I'd like to tell both of you, nicely, that I don't like the way

you expect me to ferry your moans about each other to and fro like some demented

carrier pigeon.

Now, listen, you. I realise you've had a difficult day. What do you mean you

don't like lamb chops?

Well, they're all bone and no meat. So are you.

Why are you coming to dry up? Robert.

Oh, why can't Wilfred do it?

I'll do it if you want. No thanks, Wilfred. Well, why me and not him? He

breathes on the glasses.

Well, it gives him a shine.

We're fully that way. We'd rather Abdul.

Hello?

Who is this?

I'm sorry, can you say that again?

Oh, Miss Parfitt! I didn't recognise you.

What's the matter?

I'm sorry, Miss Parfitt, I can't... Look, I'm putting you on to Ida. Oh,

you.

Hello.

You what?

Oh, no.

I've been dreading this for months. What?

Oh, you poor love. When did it happen?

Well, why didn't you ring us sooner?

Oh, yes, you would be. Would you like us to come round?

Now? Shh.

Look, it's no trouble at all. We're on our way. And chin up.

She's heartbroken.

But what's happened?

It's her mother.

She's gone.

We'll have to go round, Shane.

Well, of course we will. She might not be dead.

She might just look dead.

Like Wilfred.

OK, I'll go and get my bag. I'll see you downstairs. Now, what shall I take?

A sponge cake, in case relations call.

Brandy for the bereaved.

Oh, now, where is it? Oh, it's in a drawer by my bed, Angie.

What is?

A copy of the 23rd Psalm.

Well, what are friends for?

Oh, I must look a wreck.

Yeah, well, does it matter at a time like this?

Ida. Yes, love?

I'd better go and have a look at her.

Oh, you earn your money all right.

I miss her already, you know. Well, you will.

She was always so, so alive.

Would you like a drop of this?

I was going to offer you a glass of Mother Turnip wine.

Save it.

I would have loved it, but she'll not be making any more, will she?

Ida. What, love?

Could I have a word?

Will you excuse us, Miss Farfetch? Be getting some glasses.

Righty -ho.

What, love? She's not there.

She must be.

But she isn't. You can't have looked properly.

Well, I could hardly have missed her. She weighed nearly 18 stones.

She had a reinforced dimmer.

Is that there?

Oh, no.

I put out a few of Mother's shortbread.

She only made them yesterday.

How kind.

Miss Parfitt?

Yes, Doctor?

About your mother. Gently, Cain.

I'll do my best.

Where is she?

By this time, she'll be in Nanty Pandy.

Nanty Pandy?

Spitting a cough from Lanvar Vecan.

Yeah, we know where it is.

Do we?

Well, the thing is, what's she doing there?

She's gone to live with my sister Myrtle.

your mother want to go? She couldn't wait. Oh, how hurtful. After all you've

done. Have another drop of this.

And I'll have another.

A piece of shortbread.

Later.

Well, at least your mother's all right, Miss Parfait. Oh, mother's fine.

Mother's fallen put aside.

What am I going to do?

About what?

Well, I've never been alone at night, you see, and I'm so nervous.

Ah, well, what you need, of course, is a man.

No, I mean to sleep with her for a couple of months.

See what you're saying.

Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful?

But where will I find one?

Yes, that is your problem.

I mean, there can't be many men in Little Birch March who are wanting...

Parfait.

You know my brother, Wilfred, don't you?

Oh, very well.

And you like him, don't you?

Very much.

I do.

Shut up.

Let him drape his socks over her back.

Oh, but I do. You can't.

Miss Parfait. Yes?

This could be your lucky night.

Lovely. You know, I did enjoy that.

Do you think how Wilfred minded?

You don't think he thought I was turfing him out, do you? But you were.

Yeah, I know I was. It didn't take much persuading, Ida.

That's true, but it was so cosy here.

It'll be cosy there.

Yeah, but you know, he does like a soft mattress.

I do hope she gives him one.

Well, you don't think they would, do you, Robert? Would what?

I think he would. Would what? Yes, but would she?

Well, what... Oh!

You don't really think... Well, two lonely people.

By dawn's early light. And too much in love to... Oh, my stomach's just going.

What are you doing? What does it look like? I'm ringing our Wilfred to warn

off.

Spoilsport. Never mind spoilsport. Think of poor Miss Farfetch.

She's had a bad enough day as it is.

She's very nearly had a bereavement. It's ringing.

Oh, if anything's happened, I'll never forgive myself.

Well, you'll never know, will you? Well, of course I'll know.

How, Ida? How will you know?

Well, from Miss Parfitt.

She'll look different.

Different?

It alters people, you know, Shane.

What does, Ida?

That side of life.

You won't make me say it, Shane, so don't think you will.

Oh, I'm sure that nothing will happen. It's only... Why aren't they answering?

Perfid coming to the office tonight? You must be joking. He doesn't plummet with

us any more.

He's far too well fed at Miss Perfid's.

Didn't you notice on Friday night?

He never touched me, told him the old.

And he didn't even look at me crumble.

Here's a letter for you, Anne.

Yeah, thank you, darling. One for you, Anna. Oh, great. I love getting letters.

Oh, typewritten.

Ah, I bet it's from Jim.

Do you remember Jim?

Back at the flat.

He's got half -ritic hands, so he always types his letter. Oh, no.

What is it? It's an anonymous letter.

Who from?

What's it say, Ida? Well, I haven't read it yet. Oh.

Oh, this is terrible.

Terrible! There's not a word of truth in it, of course.

I'd stake my life on that, but... Oh, it is terrible.

I'll have to watch me.

I'd like to have a bath.

after you were the sopider.

What is it? What does it say?

Have a look at this.

Oh, just a minute.

Isn't there a Y in nymphomaniac?

I wouldn't know, and neither would poor Miss Parfitt.

Miss Parfitt? Let me see that.

Whoever wrote that letter deserves shooting.

Slowly.

What do you think I should do about it, Shane?

Tear it up. Oh, it's not as simple as that. Mud sticks, you know. And even

Wilfred goes back home, Miss Parfitt will still be a fallen woman.

And it'll be my brother, the man that did her wrong.

He didn't do her wrong.

I mean, he hasn't done her wrong.

Oh, no, what about that? They're nightly orgies.

Two -way mirrors.

Three in a bed.

Whoever wrote that has got quite an imagination.

I suppose there's no way of tracing who wrote it.

Well, what they do in books, you see, they look at the typescript and see if

of the letters... Oh, look at this. What?

Well, the F in orgies and in whiplash.

They've got no bottoms to them.

Does that help us?

No, not a lot.

I mean, we can hardly go knocking on every door in the village saying,

have you got a bottom to your F?

Haida.

What, though? Are you going to show this to Wilfred and Miss Parfitt?

Certainly not to Miss Parfitt.

Those words in there would kill her if she understood them.

But Wilfred's got to see it. I mean, he's got to understand, hasn't he, that

can't stay on there any longer.

Oh, well, I hope that doesn't mean he's going to come and stay here.

I'm afraid it does.

If I could catch whoever wrote that letter, I'd... I'd...

Oh,

heck. It's more than oh, heck, Wilfred. It's oh, oh... Oh, well, perhaps oh,

heck'll do.

Has Edie seen this?

Oh, it's Edie now, is it? No, Edie hasn't. And Edie mustn't, poor soul.

Not so much of the poor soul.

She's a wonderful woman, is Edie. She can't half cook.

Her batter pudding knocks spots off yours.

Oh, well, that's a shame, because it's mine you'll be eating tonight.

Oh, I won't be coming to you tonight.

Edie's making me a fisherman's pie.

Listen, Captain Birdside.

You can't... Stay here. Not now.

What do you mean? Why can't I?

Oh, you are insensitive.

You've read that letter. You know what people are saying. Do you want to ruin

Miss Parvick's reputation?

Well, I... She's thinking about it.

I'm thinking about what I'll be losing.

We're so suited, Ida.

What? Her and you? How do you make that out?

Well, she likes cooking and I like eating.

And according to this, you're both like two -way mirrors.

Oh, that's a load of rubbish, that is. Well, of course it's a load of rubbish,

but it's got to be put a stop to. And it won't be put a stop to while you're

living in this house.

Oh.

What can I tell Edie?

She loves having me here, she knows.

She told me last night when she brought me mule legs.

Oh. Yes, she gets a wonderful froth on it.

Better than you do on yours.

She must use a whisk.

It's like all cheating.

I can't leave her, Ida.

It'll break her heart.

So would this.

Oh, Ick.

No, don't sit there, Shane. Not tonight.

Why not?

Well, it's Wilfred's favourite place.

But Wilfred isn't here tonight. Nobody will be any minute.

Why didn't he come to supper?

Because my butter... Pudding can't compare with Edith Parfitt's fisherman's

Ida, you're jealous.

Of her?

Oh, that'll be the day. No, really, I'm rather sorry for her. If what Wilfred

says is right, she'll be heartbroken.

What, to see him go?

He was near to tears himself.

Wilfred was? I haven't seen him so down since... Well, certainly not since his

whippet died.

Poor Wilfred. And poor Miss Parfitt, too. I know, it is.

Sad for both of them.

Whoever wrote that letter has a lot to answer for.

Hello, hello, hello.

Wilfred. Near to tears?

Oh, my stuff's on the landing -line chain. There's not much. I only brought

bare necessities. Why?

So I can go and pick up the rest tomorrow.

Right, Wilfred?

Because it can't stay at Miss Parfitt's forever, can it?

We won't be at Miss Parfitt's forever.

Oh, well, that's good. There's no point. Because it'll be at Mrs. Wilfred, will

it? Mrs.

Wil... You're never going back to your elder.

My who?

No.

I'm going to Edie, me bride -to -be.

Shade.

She'll be coming over later to discuss the arrangement.

It's usual to have a drink on these occasions, our Shade. I think Ida could

with one, Robert.

I think we all could.

To discuss what arrangements?

Well, we thought we might let you do the reception.

What? Me, that can't do frothy all it?

Oh, don't be like that.

We're only telling you how beautiful you made our mum's funeral.

I was pleased with that myself.

You see, Andrew, we had cold.

And what I did was I put cucumber, radish, tomato, egg, cucumber, radish,

tomato, egg. All round the ham it went.

Cucumber, radish, tomato, egg.

Cucumber, radish, tomato, egg.

I own my will, I do. I feel married already.

I hope I'm not so sweet.

Of course you're not, child.

She's practically family already, isn't she, Ida? Yes, of course you are.

Shane, a chair for your Auntie Edith.

Come and sit here, Miss... My

finance calls me Edith.

Then I'll go and get those drinks.

Then I'll help you.

small one for me, please.

Righty -ho.

It's not easy for any of us.

And a very, very small one for Wilfred.

Eh?

We'll be there busy day tomorrow, don't forget.

Oh, are you going out to buy the ring, Wilfred?

No, we're not. We're going out to insure each other.

Insure each other? What against?

Woodworm, dry rock.

You are going to give her a ring, aren't you, Wilfred?

Do you want one?

Well, well, Wilfred, every girl wants a ring.

It shows that she's... Not past her sell -by date.

Oh,

just a minute.

It's here somewhere.

Or is it in the overalls?

No, here it is.

Hey, hey.

Side up for side.

Oh, the magic of it all.

Hold it there.

A little on the large side.

Oh, let me see.

Oh, yes, fractionally.

Wind a bit of string round it and try it on your thumb.

Wind a bit of string round it? Oh, Wilfred, you're talking about poor Miss

Parfitt's engagement ring.

Here, let me see that.

Where did you get this?

It was off a coffin handle.

I knew it.

Well, it's a good piece of brass, that.

Still, if she doesn't want it, I mean... She doesn't.

Never mind, love. I'll find you an old one of mine.

Fits me fine.

Then you wear it.

But if I were you, I'd remove the R .I .P. before the wedding.

When is the wedding, anyway?

Well, we haven't fixed the date, but the sooner the better, eh, Chuck? Oh, yes.

Under the Cirque.

Cirque?

What Cirque?

Well, I mean, I showed her the letter.

Oh, Wilfred, you did.

No, no, I'm glad he did, Mrs Willis.

We don't want any secrets between us, do we, dear? No, we don't, dear.

You don't mean you've shown her your tattoo?

It's joking, Miss Parfitt.

You must have been awfully upset, Miss Parfitt, by the letter, I mean.

Frankly, I was flabbergasted.

And then I looked on the bright side.

The bright side?

Where's the bright side of a mucky letter?

Well, it brought us together, didn't it, dear?

Why, it did that all right.

Till death... us do part.

Till death us do part.

Any chance of another very small one?

Sultana, I've got.

Raisins, I've got.

Glassy cherries, I've not got.

Ground almonds, I'll take out a mortgage and buy them in the morning.

Do you think they'll go... through with it, Ida. Well, they'd better. I'm making

the cake tomorrow.

Three tears she wants.

Three. Yeah, she'll keep one for the first christening.

I wish you hadn't said that.

How many wives has Wilfred had, Ida? She'll be his fourth, but his first in

church, which is all she seems to mind about.

She thinks you'll wear white.

As opposed to what?

Perhaps her mother will come home for the ceremony.

With orange Blossoms round her dimmer.

Is she on the guest list? Oh, no, no. There's a list in that folder, Shane.

Edith Parfitt, my wedding.

Oh, dear.

Give her time. It'll be baby's first year.

She'll need more than time for that.

And she will look different.

Who's on the guest list?

Oh, yeah, that's a thought, are we?

Oh, yeah.

Dr. Pryor, best man.

Miffy Pryor, flower girl.

Mrs. Willis, matron of honour.

Would you care to swap?

Hey! What, what? She's not taking any chances, is she?

Wilfred Willis, bridegroom.

Do you say Dr. Sharp, page boy, and I'll die after?

No, but he's here.

Dr. Sharp, Mrs. Sharp, Mrs. Simmons, Mrs. Mothcrop.

Mrs. Cross.

Stop it, Robert.

Look at this.

You and what about it? Well, she's typed it very nicely.

Dr. Sharp, Mrs. Sharp, Mrs. Simmons, Mrs. Moss... Mrs.

Cross.

But now you're doing it.

Look at the S's, Ange. Why? What's the matter?

They've got no bottom.

Edith Parfitt typed that letter herself.

But why?

Why? should she?

To force a proposal out of Wilfred.

Well, I'll go to Nancy Pandy.

I've heard there's no doubt.

None at all.

Will you tell Wilfred?

Well, of course I should.

But I won't.

Why? Because she's the best thing that ever happened to him. She's a wonderful

cook. You could eat off her floor.

Shane. What?

How did she know about two -way marriage?

Not to mention three in a bed.

Well, here's to the blushing bride.

I must tell her tomorrow there's a Y in nymphomania.

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