All language subtitles for Can.You.Keep.a.Secret.S01E02.720p.iP.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-RAWR.Hi

-He's dead?!
-Now he's not here, I've realised Dad was my best friend.

Can you keep a secret?

It turns out I hadn't died!

Oh, my God! Dad!

The money from your dad's
life insurance finally came through.

You've stolen
a quarter of a million quid?

We did want that money
for you and Neha and the boys.

This is fraud. You can go to prison.

I know we've put you in a tiny bit
of an impossible situation.

You mustn't tell Neha.
You could put her career at risk!

I can't believe he's actually gone.

I know. Neither can we.

BIRDSONG

Ohhh!

SHE GROWLS IN FRUSTRATION

Oi! You! Can't you read?
It says no junk mail!

No, it don't!

Oh, for fuck's...

William! That toss pot son of yours
has vandalised the sign again.

Mum? Dad?

Hello?

Hello?

Oh, my God.

My God. Oh, my God.

No, no, no. No, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no.
Dad, can you hear me?

HARRY YELLS

SHE LAUGHS

Oh, what the hell are you doing?!

Just a bit of fun.

Oh, you scared the shit out of me.

That's what makes it fun.

How many times are you going to
make me think you're dead?

Well, as long as we keep
getting a good reaction.

Serves you right for the sign.

-It's a good hat, isn't it?
-Yeah.

-It's all about the little flourishes.
-Yeah.

Your face!

What are these for?

Can't a boy just buy some flowers
for his mummy?

No. And don't call me Mummy.
It's... creepy.

Yeah...

-Are those for me?
-Yes.

I also treated me and Neha
to a jet washer

with some of the insurance money.

-Ah, sweet! Which one?
-The Karcher K5 Power Control

with the dirt blaster
and the spray lance.

It's actually in the boot,
if you want to give it a go.

That does sound like my idea of fun,

but, unfortunately, I've just got
something urgent to attend to first.

Ah-ah-ah-ah! William Fendon,
where do you think you're going?

Just upstairs.

Do you think I was born yesterday?

No.

I know you're 67.

Right.

-Hand them over.
-Hand what over?

Don't make me wrestle you again.

Not in front of the child.

You're a cruel woman.
A cruel, cruel woman.

So very, very cruel.

Cruel!

Cruel!

-It is a bit cruel.
-Harold! He's an addict.

And he's going to eat himself
into an early grave.

Another one.

And next time, there won't be
a pay-out to soften the blow.

Isn't that incredible? I never knew
our patio even looked like that.

-It's nice you've found a hobby.
-Yeah. Since we got it,

me and Harry
just look at everything now, like,

"I could jet wash the shit
out of that."

Have you got owt
that needs blasting?

Brickwork, garden furniture -
we'll do it all.

No, I personally
don't like jet washers.

We had a terrible experience
last summer.

Neil was doing our patio.

He'd just plugged in when he saw
Chloe's guinea pig in the garden.

Cos it was a hot day,
he thought he'd give her

-a quick drink from the hose.
-Oh, that's nice.

He hadn't appreciated the power.

Poor thing flew nearly 200 feet.

And that wasn't the worst of it.

-You know Geoff Varley, from the bowls club?
-Yeah.

He was in his garden
having a barbecue.

-He barbecued the guinea pig?
-Oh! No. -Oh.

He got hit by it. But something
that size, fired at that speed...

It was like he'd been struck
by a mortar. Poor Neil was in bits.

What about the guinea pig?

Bluebell actually stayed
in one piece.

Dead, though. Broken back.

Still, nice you're enjoying it.

Your foxes are very regular, aren't
they? They must eat a lot of fibre.

Tell me about it! I must say,
it's nice to see you more cheerful.

I did consider
being mortally offended,

but then I figured you and Dad
have always done deranged things,

so I may as well
get something out of it this time.

-Yeah. What, like the jet hoser?
-Oh, yeah!

I mean, you know, being able
to pay rent, feed our children,

that's good, too, but a Karcher...

...that's something me and Neha
could only have dreamed of before.

"Neha and I."

See, sometimes Mum knows best.

-There is one fly in the ointment.
-Oh?

We can't keep lying to her.

No, but what other option
do we have?

-Well, you tell her the truth.
-Well, no, we definitely can't do that.

-I have to. We're married!
-She's a police officer!

She's worked so hard
to get where she is,

and you want to compromise that

so that you can
feel better about yourself?

Selfish, Harold.
Very, very, very, very selfish.

What you need to do is go home,
give her a little cuddle

and stop thinking about yourself
for a minute.

MICHAEL PORTILLO TALKS ON TV

MASSAGER HUMS

Do you know, I never realised
how utterly dreadful television is

-without chocolate.
-You're just withdrawing from the sugar.

You'll come out the other side
much stronger.

I don't want to
come out the other side

if this is what my life's
going to be like,

this shroud of colourless misery,
this world of despair,

the insipid fog.

It's been four hours.

Please can I pop
to the petrol station?

Well, of course you bloody can't!
What if you're seen?

I'll wear a disguise.

Oh, I'm not having
this argument again.

You know the rules.

Well, no, I don't, actually, because
you keep bloody changing them!

Honestly, you run this house
like Guantanamo Bay.

But with less humanity.

Rumsfeld!

William, don't turn it up!

MASSAGER HUMS LOUDER

Oh...

-Sorry, what is this?
-I just wanted to do summat nice for your mum,

-you know, to thank her for the money.
-Yeah, all right.

Who did it?

-Lovely Martha in the market.
-Doesn't she usually paint pets?

Yeah, which is why this is
even more impressive.

I mean, I only asked her to do it
last week.

Imagine being able to paint
that quick.

-I think you can tell she normally does animals.
-Why?

We've got paws.

And my mum looks like a spaniel.

And she's given me whiskers.

I think that's meant to be stubble.

Come here. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I don't mean to upset you.

It's just that it's a bit...

Triggering? To see your dad again?

Er, if you like.

Sorry. Hopefully, your mum'll
like it more than you do.

Oh, no, we shouldn't show it to her.

But hers is being delivered
tomorrow.

Sorry, you've bought
this painting twice?

Yeah! Why, is that not a good idea?

No.

Oh.

No, it's a phenomenal idea.

JET WASHER HUMS

-What is this? - I told you.
-I think I'd remember if you'd told me

you were hosting a charity
fundraising night in memory of Dad.

-Why? - Because he's not dead!
-Oh, you take everything so literally.

OK, so your dad
might not be dead physically,

but emotionally
he's been gone since the '90s.

Getting people to donate money
under false pretences is unethical.

Oh, don't give me that. You got over
your ethics pretty quickly

when you realised
it got you a jet hoser!

I'm just delighted the money's
going to go to some humans for once.

I'm fed up with all these animal
shelters hoovering up the cash.

"Ooh, our kittens have got wheels
instead of back legs! Ohhh!"

-Mum, this is bad juju.
-Why?

We're raising money for charity.
If anything, that's good juju.

-Whatever juju is. What is juju?
-Oh, I can't.

SHE SIGHS

Please come.

It'll be really nice
to put on a united front, you know?

Plus, the bereaved family,
you know, all together -

that will grease a few wallets.
And we'll need that,

because they're tight as
a gnat's fanny down that club.

Why am I so...

-...jowly?
-She paints a lot of dogs.

- NEHA:
- I'll just be a sec.

-Harry, we're at code red.
-What are you doing?! Neha's right there!

Your mother's gone all Taliban.

She's banned chocolate
and biscuits. Chocolate biscuits!

She's making me eat flax seed.

-Do you know how they make flax seed?
-No.

Well, they hoover up all the dried
guff from under the sofa cushion,

they stick it in a bag
and write "flax seed" on it!

Now is not the time
for one of your flaps.

This is not a flap! I feel like
I'm in Requiem For A Dream.

I've got the shakes,
and it's not from the Parkinson's.

-Well, can't you order some online?
-No, I tried, but Fritzl in there

has got wise to it
and hidden the router.

Hiding the router
won't make a difference, Dad.

-The internet is wireless.
-Harry, Neha is right there.

I haven't got time
for a computer lesson.

Just get me some chocolate!

And make sure it's Dairy Milk,
not Galaxy,

which as far as I'm concerned
is made with sour cream and earwax,

which I quite like,
but not in chocolate.

-Can you open the boot, please?
-Yeah.

I'll have to come
straight from work.

-Pigfish has been back at the pumps.
-Oh, Gawd. -Not a pretty sight.

-Well, don't commission a portrait of it, then.
-Very good.

No phones on the forecourt!

Look, I'll pick Mum up
and take her to the bowls club.

-I will meet you there. Bye.
-OK. Bye. - Love you. - Love you.

I tell you this, it's a disgrace
what you let him get away with.

He's gone right up to the hilt
on this one.

Bloody hell!

I'm surprised he can walk.

QUIET FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS

FLOORBOARD CREAKS

Where are you going?

Nowhere.

What's in that bag?

Nothing.

Dad?

Dad?

Dad?

-Awoo!
-Argh!

HOLLOW THUD

HEAVY THUD

Oh, dear.

-H... Harry?
-William?

-Harry?
-William?

Oh, dear. Harry?

-What have you done?!
-Well, I jumped out on him.

-Why? - Well, why not?
-Because you've knocked him out, you idiot!

-I didn't mean to! I'm just so bored.
-Oh, God!

You're going to have to patch him
up, because I've got to get ready.

How am I going to do that?

-Harry, Harry, come on.
-Oh. -Harry?

Oh. I see now.

-I'm as shocked as you are.
-Oh, don't even try it, you devious hound.

Oh, dear.

-Harry? Harry?
-Do you know, they say that the saddest thing

about betrayal
is that it starts with trust...

...and ends with betrayal...

...of trust that that betrayal
is the trust of.

It's your fault.

-Let's get that...
-Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?

-Sorry, I haven't got any plasters, so...
-I'll be OK, thank you.

-AUTOMATED VOICE: - Intruder alert.
-What's that?

Now, that is a sensor I installed,
as I thought it'd be good to have

some advanced warning
of any visitors.

But I think I may have installed it
on a pigeon fly path or something,

-because it just keeps going off when no-one's there.
-OK.

That sounds normal.

Look, I'm sorry
about the chocolate, Dad.

I'd like to say it's OK, but let's
be honest, it's an effing disaster.

Well, if you will let Mum
control your life...

-She doesn't control my life!
-Apart from legally killing you,

making you live in the loft
and governing what you eat?

The thing about marriage, Harry,

is that there's only ever two people
who really know what's going on.

-Mm.
-You know what your grandmother said to us on our wedding day?

"Princess Diana was murdered and
it was Prince Philip what done it"?

No, that came later. No, she said,

"Don't try to be perfect,
just be honest."

And I can honestly say that
every single day of our marriage,

your mother and I have worked
very hard to not be perfect.

-We're honest to a fault.
-Right, Tweedledee and Tweedletwat...

-See what I mean? - Mm-hm.
-Have you printed out my speech, William?

-Yeah. There it is.
-Right. In a big font?

-The biggest. Jumbo sans. -OK.
-Wait, wait, wait. What speech?

Oh, it's a little keynote. You know,
nothing special, tight ten.

Come on, traitor,
we don't want to be late.

-Sorry we're late.
-How do you cope with his driving? He's so timid!

It's like getting a lift
on a milk float.

To be fair, he is a bad driver, so
he's right to be nervous. You want

to feel the steering wheel after
he's been on a dual carriageway.

-It's dripping with sweat.
-Haven't you got that sorted yet?

Do you remember I told you, you can
get your sweaty palms electrocuted?

Because Billie did it
to her armpits.

-Lovely. Can we go inside, please? Cos I don't...
-Yeah.

-Hey, is that dried blood in your hair?
-Oh, he, um, clonked himself

while he was clearing out some of
his dad's possessions. Didn't you?

-Mm, I did, did I?
-Yes, you did. -Yes.

Oh, look! Awww!

Mum, this isn't going to be
over the top, is it?

Harold, it is a simple casino night
with a modest request

for charitable donations
and a short multimedia presentation.

ELECTRONIC POP MUSIC PLAYS

MUSIC STOPS

COUGHING

TAPPING ON PHONES

I'm, er, going to get some air.

Just going to...

Harry? Harry! Wait! Wait.
Are you OK?

-I needed some air.
-Why? Is it your head? Are you feeling sick?

I think I need a bit of time
to myself, so...

Harry, you can't even
shut the toilet door

cos you don't like being alone.
What is this about?

-I can't. I can't. I-I-I...
-We're a team, remember? Yeah?

I know. I know, but...

Tummy to tummy.

Cheek to cheek.

So, then, can you really
not tell me?

No.

-But I can show you. Come on.
-Wait. What about your mum?

Oh, sod her. Get in!

Well, that was very... um...

SNORING

-...William. - Yes, William.
-William. - Yeah, William.

-Debbie, do you want to...?
-Yes! Yes, yes.

Thank you very much.
Thank you. Thank you.

Right, um, well,
er, where to start?

Um, in the words of Bob Geldof,

IRISH ACCENT: ..give me
your fuckin' money!

DEBBIE LAUGHS

I think that's what he said,
but more Irish than that.

I can't... I can't do Irish.

So, um, to be serious for a moment,
we're here to have a good time

but we're also here to raise money
for a very important cause.

As all of you know, my darling
William was a Parkinson's sufferer.

And, er, boy, did we suffer,
endlessly hearing about it!

SNORING CONTINUES

No, no, it is, um... a cruel disease.

I've written, um,
a proper speech, but, um...

...it's in my jacket pocket.
Do you mind passing that to me?

Cheers, Geoff. Lovely. Thank you.

Right...

SHE CLEARS HER THROAT

SNORING CONTINUES

-What's happening?
-I don't know.

Sorry about that, I wasn't expecting
that font. It's, er...

Er, William... was...

Dead. Parkinson's.

SHE MUMBLES

Sorry, I actually feel like
I'm going to...

...pass out.

Oh, God!

Call an ambulance. I've seen this
before. She's having a stroke.

Step back, please.
Give me air, give me air!

When we first met, I was up front
about my parents being mad, right?

-Where are you going with this?
-Just tell me.

You warned me about
their peculiarities, yes.

And you still married me.

You had all the data
and you still went through with it?

I tick the Apple terms
and conditions, too.

Don't mean I actually look at 'em.

-But, yes. I married you, not your parents.
-Good,

because I love you
and I may not be perfect...

-No. You're not perfect.
-But I am honest.

Oh, Harry, if this is about you
doing poppers in Year 6,

-I told you, I don't care.
-No, no, no, it's not, it's not.

It's about my dad.

I don't know how to say this,
so I think I'm just going to say it.

He's still alive.

Oh, love. I did have an inkling.

-We see it a lot at work.
-Really? I didn't think it'd be that common.

Oh, yeah, people get
delayed concussion all the time.

I mean, it can sometimes
come on hours or even days or...

-No. No, no, no, I'm not concussed.
-Well, you are.

But that's why
you're being extra weird.

And in some ways, you're right.

Your dad in't dead.

Not in here.

No, he in't dead.

And he's in there.
He's in the loft. Come on!

Your parents have a loft?

That's funny, it's not normally...
Dad? Dad?!

Open up. It's me.
It's Harry, your son!

Maybe he's listening to something.
He has been talking about these

-noise-cancelling headphones recently.
-No.

He must be here, though,
he can't leave the house.

And he'll know we're here,

because he's got
this little motion system thing

that tells him when
people are coming down the drive,

although he might have thought
we're just pigeons.

-Pigeons?
-Unless...

Him and my mum have been doing
this thing recently where they wear

this, like, wolf hat and they
creep up on me unexpectedly.

-They just jump out.
-All right.

Harry, I love you, OK?
And you are going to be fine.

But right now, we need to
face the fact that you are having

-a not insignificant psychotic episode.
-Right, no, I'm not.

-I'm not. OK? No, I'm not.
-Yeah. So if you just keep breathing,

and if you want to hold my hand,
that's also fine.

-Yeah.
-You can squeeze it tight.

Oh! That is... very sweaty.

-All right, I'm going to call the baby-sitter...
-No!

...Take you to A&E and get
you checked out - A&E? No!

PHONE RINGS

I'm not making this...

No caller ID.
It could be one of those scambots.

I'm not sure that's
our biggest problem right now.

Yeah, you're right.
It might be my dad.

Hello?

Oh, hi, Billie.

What? Oh, my God!

Yeah, of course.
We'll, er... we'll come now.

-What's happened?
-It's my mum. She... They think she's had a stroke.

-What's going on?
-They think it's severe dehydration.

Oh, thank God. So not a stroke?

No, I think it all just got too much
for her, you know, with the emotion.

Your poor mum.
She puts on a brave face,

but she's obviously
grieving very intensely.

Can you take me home, please?
Get in the back, Harold.

-Are you...? Are you serious?
-I've just had a stroke!

Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you.

-Just drive, will you?!
-Seat belt. -Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Mum, just so you know,
I've told Neha about Dad.

Yeah. So I know you didn't want me
to, but I've done it anyway.

Mum?

-Mum! -Oh, Harry, just leave it.
-No, she needs to tell you the truth.

I'm sorry, I should have
just got him checked out

-by the paramedics back there.
-Yeah.

Excuse me, don't talk about me
like I'm a child.

Well, don't behave like one, then!

It's been a long day.
I just need some rest.

But for what it's worth, I am sorry.

-You are?
-Yes. I should have got you to the hospital earlier,

-cos you're clearly concussed.
-This is bad juju, Mum.

It's really, really bad.
You're like a gatling gun of lies.

I am not lying, Harold. Look,
I am sorry that your dad has died,

but we all have to
come to terms with it.

Going on and on at me
isn't going to change that.

Now, obviously, you have suffered
a traumatic head injury,

but just being rude to me is not
going to bring your father back.

CAR DOOR OPENS

- WILLIAM:
- Oh, my dear me.

Ooh, there we go. Ah.

Evening, all. Just, er... God,
it's a bit of a squeeze, isn't it?

WRAPPER RUSTLES

Anyone want a chunk? Fruit & Nut.

What are you doing?

Just popped to the petrol station.

You have told her, right?

SHE SIGHS

You MASSIVE twat.