All language subtitles for Doc Martin S04E03 Perish Together as Fools.DVDRip.NonHI.en.ACORN

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Have you locked the door?

I'm in charge of
crime prevention

for the whole of Portwenn.

Do you think I'd forget
to lock my own front door?

You were up late last night.

I couldn't sleep.

You got any work sorted yet?

Mum said you'd lost
that job in Cardiff.

I didn't lose it. I quit.

That's what I told Mum.
"No way he'd get the sack."

I said you'd probably
been headhunted

or something like that.

Was I right?

Yeah, there were some
people trying to get ahold of me.

Always in demand.

Well, you've either
got it or you haven't.

So, did they get hold of you?

Why all the questions?

Sorry.

Guess I'm just used to
interrogating criminals all day.

When did you last
interview a suspect?

Let me show you around my beat.

Morning, girl.

Your coffee.

Why did you unpack my stuff?

You've been living out of that
bag for two weeks now, Pauline.

Toast?

I told you. It's temporary.

Okay, but your brother's not
leaving your mum's just yet,

so you may as well
get settled in, eh?

Don't follow me
into the bathroom.

Buddy, there you are!

Come on.

Good boy.

Louisa, why aren't
you at school?

Is something wrong?

No. Well, not really.

It's just I haven't felt the
baby move for a while.

Have you been to see Martin?

I was going to, but then I
thought, no, I'm being silly.

I'm having a scan
tomorrow at the hospital,

so I might as well just wait.

In you get. We'll
sort this out right now.

Louisa needs to see you.

Why? Is there something wrong?

Sorry I'm late.
Slow-moving boyfriend.

Hey, get that dog
out of my reception.

As soon as you've
dealt with Louisa.

- I can just go to the hospital.
- Don't be so silly.

You're here now, and
Martin wants to help.

What's the problem?

The baby, Martin.

I haven't felt it
move for a while.

Come in.

Go through.

Get out! Get that out.

It can stay out here, but it
can't come in the surgery.

It's against the law.

You'd be amazed how many
drivers leave their valuables

in full view.

I come down here twice a
day, offer words of advice.

- You all right, Sam?
- Yeah.

Usually, it's me has
trouble keeping up with you.

I don't suppose...

I mean, there's no chance
you'll still be here for Christmas?

God, no!

There's plenty of room.
Mum would love to see you.

It's years since we've
all shared a turkey.

No, I've got a meeting with
someone in Newlyn next week.

If that all goes well,
I'll be out of your hair.

Newlyn? Is that a job
interview or something?

Yeah.

Being the neighborhood
beat manager

doesn't mean I just go
round locking people up.

I can also offer a helping
hand, which is equally rewarding.

That doesn't sound too good.

You think?

I could get you
towed to a garage.

Let me guess.

They rip me off,
charge me a fortune,

and you get a nice
little backhander

for sending a mug their way.

No. I'm just happy to help.

I'll get on to Brian.

Have him fit you in.

Actually, now I've got
your undivided attention,

can I ask, "Have you left
any valuables on display?"

What?

Camera, binoculars, handbag?

What handbag?

Not yours, obviously.

But maybe your wife's.

She's dead.

Give her a try now.

Thanks very much.

Just doing my job, sir.

Yeah, this model,
chief lead comes loose.

Just needs to be
tightened up, you know.

My brother knows all about cars.

Safe journey!

Aah! Ohh!

When did you last feel it move?

I'll ask the
questions, thank you.

When did you last feel it move?

Well, there's been nothing
since yesterday lunchtime.

I'm sure everything's fine.

What are you so sure about?

There's any number of things
that could have gone wrong.

- Martin!
- Aunt Joan.

You'd like me to leave?

I'll be right outside
if you need me.

Thank you.

Could you undo the lowest
buttons of your blouse

and pull down the
top of your skirt,

just a little bit?

It's a bit awkward.

If you're embarrassed, then
why did you come to see me?

No. I mean it's tricky
to undo this blouse.

The buttons are very small,
and my fingers are getting fat.

Let me help.

I'll just pull that up.

It sounds fast.
Is that all right?

Fetal heart rate should be

between 120 and
160 beats per minute.

It's completely normal.

Is everything all right?

Yes, apart from the
fact that I'm now officially

one of those neurotic
pregnant mums.

All right.

Come on, Buddy.

We know when we're not wanted.

Dr. Ellingham,
here's another one

from the primary-care thingy.

- Another what?
- An official reminder

that we have to have
the surgery repainted.

Just this room and your
room and my phlebotomy clinic.

Waste of time.

Can I interrupt, Doc?

This gentleman's
had a nasty accident.

Trapped his fingers.

I didn't trap them.
This moron slammed...

The doc doesn't need to know
any details of the circumstances.

He'll just want to
examine the damage.

Won't you, Doc?

Go through.

"Every four years,"
and it's been nearly five.

Mm-hmm.

That was the doc.

And this is Pauline,
the receptionist.

Practice manager
and head phlebotomist.

Oh, Sam Penhale.

My big brother.

Can you see the family likeness?

No.

Did I hear you say you
need some painting done?

Yeah, yeah. Why?
Is that what you do?

Yeah, amongst other things.

He's an artist.

Oil paints,
watercolors, pastels.

Not in a girly way, if
that's what you're thinking.

He could have played
football for Plymouth Argyle.

He had a trial, but
his ankle went...

I don't think Pauline
wants to hear my life story.

Oh, I don't mind.

You picked up on the
partitioning of the sample?

Bell-shaped?

Yes.

While the mucosa
was more like a dome.

The rate of permeation
followed zero-order kinetics,

but the spermicidal activity
and the vaginal permeability

increased proportionally,
until it peaked.

Any questions?

Have you made up your minds yet?

Steak. Very rare.

Monkfish. No butter.

Shall I pour the water?

I'm sure we can manage.

You don't mind I ordered
something rather bloody?

Not at all.

It won't upset you?

Of course not.

If you ever need
help, I know someone.

Thank you. I can
manage on my own.

"On my own no more.

The beat of my heart
echoes in time with another.

And now, sore with longing,

it runs like a child
to its mother."

You're the only man who's
ever written me a poem.

I've got it somewhere.
I could find it.

Oh, no, don't bother.

Do you still write poetry?

No.

I can't help but notice
a spot of the old tension

between you two turtledoves.

If you want to talk about it,
it's just between the two of us.

Yeah, but you're
his dad, you know?

For the purposes
of this conversation,

I'm just your good friend Bert.

I love him. He's great.

But...

He follows me all over the place

'cause he hasn't
got any other mates,

and he's so boring and samey,

and never does
anything romantic.

He made you toast.

He has to plan
everything, like, forever,

and then never actually does it.

Been that way
since he was a lad.

I'm just not sure I can
see myself with him forever.

You know what really gets to me?

He mumbles.

Thank you.

What's that perfume?

I can't remember the name of it.

It was a gift from an infertile
and rather unattractive couple.

It smells of cheese.

No more IVF for those two!

Signor, signorina.

Thank you.

- Ah, son.
- Yeah?

We've got to have
some of that face time.

Dad, no.

I don't want an accordion
player on the terrace.

How would you feel
if you lost your girl?

Because if you're not careful,
she's going to leave you,

toothbrush and all.

What?

First off, you follow
her round like a lamb.

No, I don't.

Yes, you do, and
Pauline don't like it.

How do you know?

Because she told
me not to tell you.

And you're samey.

- I'm what?
- Samey.

I don't even know
what that means.

Neither do I, but it's not good.

Right.

And I hate to have to
tell you this, but you're...

well, you're kind of weak
in the romance department.

You got to work
on yourself, boy.

Shape up or it's splitsville.

She also said she
wanted an accordion player

on the terrace.

I'll say good night.

I think that was
appropriate, don't you?

Yes.

Your breath seems
a little metallic.

It's possible you're jaundiced.
You might want to check.

I'll do that.

New girlfriend?

Use a condom this time.

He's a proper shagger!

Morning, Doc.

How did you get in
here, and what's all this?

Your practice manager
gave me the key.

I don't have a practice manager.

Pauline. She told
me to get started.

Now, she wanted that shade,

but I think something with a
bit more rose in it works better,

gives it more warmth.

Keep the color exactly as it is,

and put my furniture
back where you found it.

Well, how am I supposed to work?

You haven't done the same in
my consulting room, have you?

No, no. I'm doing that Saturday.

It's all been organized. Just
ask your practice manager.

I don't have a practice manager!

Yes?

Mr. Routledge.

You're dying?

Really? You'd better be!

Mr. Routledge!

Let yourself in!

How do you expect
me to get to the door

if I'm having a heart attack?

I see you managed to
get to the fridge all right.

What were you doing when
your so-called discomfort started

this time?

I was on the toilet.

I didn't flush, just in
case you need a sample.

On a scale of 1 to 10,
with 10 being the worst,

how would you
describe your pain level?

I'm not sure that's
a big enough scale.

But I'll tell you one thing,
I'd be a lot more comfortable

if you'd get me a place
in a nursing home.

Shh!

Nothing.

You don't need a
place in a nursing home.

You've already got Meals
on Wheels and a home help,

neither of which
you actually deserve.

It's not safe here!

That walk from the taxi
to the door is treacherous.

It's the only exercise you get.

Can you get me another
beer before you go?

You look like a madonna.

Don't say that.

Have you seen her face recently?

No, I mean the
actual... Never mind.

Any chance of a cuppa?

It's on the cupboard.
You haven't drunk it yet.

Oh. Right. Yeah.

Have you ever done a nude?

What are you doing?

Well, I thought I'd
do a series of these,

maybe even a fresco.

Paint it out.

Oh, couldn't he
just paint round it?

No.

Hey, Doc.

Portwenn surgery.

What about your room, then?

Hey, clean that up! Why
isn't this carpet covered?

Oh, it's a bit slippy.

What's the matter with you?

When do you want
me to do your room?

At the weekend, when
the surgery is closed.

We discussed this an hour ago.

Did we?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Go through.

Why, what have I done?

Just go through.

Hey!

Right.

Pauline.

Okay. Thanks. Bye.

Pauline, I'm early.

Chippy, you still seeing double?

No.

Take a snap of
me and my portrait.

So, you're not going
to sack me, then?

- Why would I sack you?
- Don't know.

Follow my finger.

Do you give all your
employees a physical?

Only those displaying
symptoms of illness.

How much do you drink in a week?

Nothing. Well, not a lot.

Couple of pints now and again.

Your lack of coordination
and memory impairment

would suggest otherwise.

Have you seen a doctor?

I thought about it,
but it comes and goes,

and I was absolutely fine
till a couple of months ago.

Do you have to write things
down to remember them?

Now and again if it's important.

Do you ever forget
anything obvious,

like the name of
a close relative?

No. Don't think so.

Any members of your
family with medical disorders?

Joe's a bit odd.

He got kicked in the
head by an horse.

Yes, I know about your brother.
What about your parents?

Mum's fine.

Getting old.

And your father?

He walked out when I was 5.

Died a couple of
years after that.

- What did he die from?
- No idea.

I was actually closer
to my granddad.

But then he died as well.

How old was he when he died?

Not sure. Young.

He kept setting fire to his
bed, so he got sent to an home.

Take a seat.

So, you think I've
got something, then?

Pauline will take
your blood for testing.

Worst-case scenario?

It's probably just a
virus, but your symptoms,

combined with your
family's medical history,

means there's a
very slim possibility

you have a genetic disorder.

I'd like to rule that out.

But it's probably just a virus?

Yes. Probably.

Hello?

Louisa Glasson.

Is everything okay?

One moment.

Miss Glasson.

Oh, hello.

Nurse.

Sorry. I was just trying to see.

Are you all right?

You're right.

SGA.

Small for Gestational Age.

By week 24, the fetus should
measure 33 centimeters

at the very least.

This one, not even close.

Can you see something?

Is something wrong?

Stop talking, please.

Have you made a mistake?

A mistake?

I don't mean getting pregnant.

Did you get the date wrong?

The date of what?
You're not being very clear.

I'm simply trying to work
out whether you're suffering

some sort of intrauterine
growth retardation.

What I need to know,

and this shouldn't be too
difficult, I'd have thought,

when did you have
sex with Dr. Ellingham?

Well, I didn't actually
make a note in my diary,

but I think the
last time we had...

On the few occasions that we...

It was mid-October.

The 11th and a couple
of days after that.

There. That wasn't
so bad, was it?

This is so kind of you, Joan.

You know, I could
have got a cab.

I don't want you wasting
your money on taxis.

Come on, Buddy.

Babies don't come cheap.

And you're still paying for
that overpriced room in the pub

where you could be
staying with me for nothing.

You know I'd like to,

but it's just too far from
the school without a car.

Look, I honestly
don't mind driving you.

What? There and back every day?

No. I need a place of
my own, in the village.

Waddling distance.

Well, If you're sure about that,

I think I might be able
to help you if you'll let me.

Aah!

Surprise!

What the hell are you doing?

It's romantic, isn't it?

You nearly killed me.

I didn't mean to, Pauline.

My brother used to do that,
except without the flowers.

I've booked a table
at a restaurant.

A romantic restaurant.

Not your place, then?

You've not finished
work already?

Lunch break.

You okay?

Bit iffy.

Doc Martin's took some blood.

He's doing some tests.

Probably just a virus.

Well, you know
what doctors are like.

They're always looking for
something to scare you with.

I think he was hoping
I'd got what Grandpa had.

Grandpa wasn't ill.
He was just mental.

Or maybe the milkman
did work for the KGB.

Does the doc think you're
going mental as well?

No!

He said there's a tiny chance I
might have something genetic.

Genetic?

Tiny chance.

You mean, I might
have it as well?

So, what, exactly, have we got?

You have got nothing.

Don't try and sugar the pill.

There is no pill.

You have no symptoms.

You have, therefore, no illness.

Not yet.

But if it killed Grandfather...

I can't tell what killed
your grandfather.

He was only 49.
How long have I got?

I can't possibly tell how
long you're going to live.

Right now, it is your
brother I'm concerned with.

Yes, everyone always
cares about Sam.

He'll be all right, though.
He's the lucky one.

I'm the one that needs to worry.

Why?

Because, if it's genetic,

it'll swerve past Sam,
come straight for me.

So, please tell me,
what's on your mind?

I have to know!

Your brother has some symptoms

consistent with
Huntington's disease.

But it's highly unlikely.

Will I go mental?

Will I definitely die?

If you did have it,

then, yes, you would slowly
go mental and eventually die.

Oh, my God.

It killed Grandpa, and
now it's coming for me.

Oh, all right. Sit down
and roll up your sleeve.

What are you doing?

I can't breathe!

I need air!

Sit down, and calm down.
You're having a panic attack.

Is that one of the symptoms?

Shut up and let
me take your blood.

- You?
- Yes.

Right, make a fist.

Hold that.

There's a Mrs. Henson
on the phone for you.

It looks Huntingtony. No.

Right. You can
answer the phone, then.

What?

If you're going to
take your own blood,

you might as well
do my whole job!

Goodbye, Pauline.

He thinks I'm going to die soon.

Not soon enough.

Right, we should have yours
and your brother's results

by tomorrow.

Put your shirt on.

I'll miss you, Doc.

All right. Let go.

Go. That's it.

Seems a bit weird just
to knock on his door.

I haven't seen him for years.

He'll be glad of the company.

Thanks for the lift, Joan.

Oh.

If he offers you tea, make
sure you wash the mug.

You'll be delighted to
hear the scan went well.

What scan?

Louisa's checkup
at the hospital.

Oh, for God's sake, Martin,
take some interest in your baby.

Louisa has made
it abundantly clear

that she wants me to
have nothing to do with it.

And you'll do as you're told?

Yes.

Well, that'll be a first.

It's good of you
to visit me, Lisa.

Louisa.

And thank you
for the jelly babies.

I'm sorry there
weren't that many left.

I don't see many
people these days.

Those that do come
complain about the smell.

I can't imagine why.

It's a kipper.

What is?

The smell.

I was making me breakfast,

and one of me kippers slipped
down the back of the cooker.

I couldn't reach it,

and the home help's no help.

Haven't had a cooked
breakfast in a good while now.

It's such a lovely house
and so close to the school.

It doesn't suit me.
All these stairs.

On my bad days, I
wee in the kitchen sink,

just to save myself the climb.

Would you like a biscuit?

Oh, no. Fine, thanks.

Over there by the sink.

I hear you're thinking
of going into a home.

That tosser Doc Martin
doesn't think I'm ill enough.

I had a heart
attack this morning.

He didn't even care.

If you did go into a home, what
would you do with this place?

Rent it out, I guess.

To tourists or someone local?

Someone who's
lived here all their life,

still works in the village.

Not many of them left.

Oh, there's a few on the
boats, in the shops, in the school.

Where do you live, Lisa?

Doctors have to
mention the bad stuff

in case you actually
are ill and you sue them.

Most of the time, it's nothing.

So, will you please lighten up?

I've done nothing with my life.

You, you've done it all.

Apart from play football
for Plymouth Argyle.

But if your ankle hadn't...

Will you shut up about
the bloody football?

You could have been
a contender, Sam.

You could have
been king of the world.

You don't half-talk some
bollocks when you're pissed.

Don't leave me!

I'm only going for a crap.

Another one?

Sorry. You're not
allowed in here.

What?

No supermodels in the kitchen.

Where you off to
dressed like that?

Don't know. AI's surprising me.

Is he?

And there you are saying he
didn't know how to be romantic.

Hello?

Hey, babes, sorry, but
something's come up.

I can't hear you.
You're mumbling.

Something's come up. I
met some old mates and...

I thought I'd stay and
have a session with them.

All right, lads, keep it down.

I'm on the phone
to the missus here.

So, yeah, I can't
do that thing tonight.

Maybe tomorrow, eh?

Al.

Got to go. The shots are here.

Your romantic son
just stood me up.

Really?

He said he's having
drinks with some old mates.

It's a shame to let all
that beauty go to waste.

Why don't you go out
front and take a few orders?

- What you drinking, Joe?
- Eh?

I'm supposed to be taking
Pauline out for dinner tonight,

but she thinks I can't
do anything without her

so I plan on being here
for a while with my mates.

Where are they, then?

Oh, they'll be here.

Soon.

In the meantime,
can I get you a pint?

Actually, I'm in the
middle of something.

Family matter with my brother.

Family stuff, yeah?

I love family stuff.

Did you want a pudding?

No, thanks.

Notice how the surgeon
has gone to great lengths

to minimize hemorrhage
as he opens the chest.

Now as he opens
the left ventricle,

there will be a rush of blood.

Observe how the assistant
is ready with the sucker,

so that all the blood loss
can go through the cell saver

and be reinfused.

This will minimize the
amount needed in transfusion.

The thing about women

is they always want
to know where you are,

but they never want you around.

I suppose we're
all going to die.

It's just getting
used to the idea.

I stood her up, right, 'cause
she's got this crazy idea

that I'm clingy.

I mean, me.

Clingy!

Mate, not even Pauline goes
to the toilet as much as you do.

I've got a dippy tummy.

Well, thanks for sharing her!

You haven't touched
that one. Go on.

Cheers!

Here's to the best brother
I could ever hope to have.

And if this is the
end of the journey,

I just want you to know

that I'm one lucky bastard
to have had you in my life.

- Well, now where you off to?
- Toilet.

You just went.

He's not doing
drugs in there, is he?

I thought I heard voices.

Go back to bed.

Why you painting
this time of night?

Because it's easier
to concentrate

when it's just me
on my own by myself.

That's excellent.

What do you know about art?

I know what I like.

And I really...

Yeah, yeah, yes.

Brilliant, just like everything
else I've ever done.

You know what?

I need to get this finished.

Good night.

Last night, Al stands me up,

so I stay awake, waiting
for him so I could ignore him,

but then I fall asleep.

This morning, I find him
asleep on the bathroom floor.

I hadn't heard him come in.

He passed out trying
to brush his teeth.

So I stayed awake
for no good reason.

Well, that's it.

Where's the painter?

He's in the kitchen.

The kitchen doesn't
need painting!

I know. He's having a cuppa.

Your results are negative.

Oh. So I'm not going to die?

Not from Huntington's, no.

Your iron levels are off, and
your blood count is low, though.

All right, well, I don't
know what that means.

- I'll get a cloth.
- Pick that up.

I'm sorry. I'll mop it up.

Pick it up now!

You can't, can you?

All right, don't rub it in!

Do you have that
weakness in any other joints?

Doc, there's another
Routledge emergency.

No! I am not attending
that hypochondriac anymore.

He's got chest pains, arm-ache.

I'm with a patient.

Is this one having a stroke?

No.

No, but Mr. Routledge is,

and he is scared
and he is alone.

I'll see you later.

Squeeze.

No, you're not having a stroke.

Then why do I feel as if I am?

Because you're a mentally
deranged time-waster.

And Sod's law dictates
the one time I fail to attend

is the one day you actually die.

Louisa?

Has something happened
to Mr. Routledge?

Sadly not.

Is that my breakfast?

Two lovely kippers.

The grill's over there.

When did you start
delivering Meals on Wheels?

Lisa thinks I should
go into a home.

He's very frail.

No, he's not.

- Yes, I am.
- No, you're not.

I'm going for a wee.

It probably would be for
the best, though, wouldn't it?

I'd get proper care, and
Lisa could move in here.

Oh, right.

I see.

See what?

You want me to refer
Mr. Routledge to a home

so that you can
move into his house.

No, no, not at all.

So, you wouldn't
want to live here?

Well, I would, yes.

Mm.

Don't "mm" at me, Martin.

Goodbye.

Martin?

I was going to come and see you.

Can you look at this?

Oh, God, there is
something wrong!

Dr. Montgomery says it's SGA.

She's booked me in for
some scans, Dopplers.

Have they checked the
placenta's working normally?

I got the technicalities
explained at length.

What I didn't get was
any kind of reassurance

the baby's doing okay,

and that's all I want right now.

Don't worry about
one image, Louisa.

It's easily misinterpreted.

Some fetuses are
small at this stage

and have a growth
spurt later on.

Some fetuses are small
throughout the pregnancy.

It doesn't mean there's
anything wrong with you

or the baby.

Right.

Can I have it back?

Do you mind if I hang on to it?

I just want to check
the measurements

and consult with Edith.

You're going to talk to
Edith about our baby?

Is that a problem?

With you discussing my
baby with your ex-fiancée?

I see. It's your baby
when it suits you,

but it's ours when
you need medical help.

So, do I start packing or not?

No, Mr. Routledge, you are
not entitled to a place in a home.

Caring profession,
my big hairy...

Aah!

Oh, my God!

Don't move.

Does it look like I can?

Aah!

He's broken his hip.

Okay. I was really
angry about last night,

but I think we should
discuss it properly.

Like grown-ups.

Are you ignoring me now?

I don't know about
these hybrids.

Cars are supposed to
make a noise, aren't they?

Electric ones are just spooky.

I can't take this anymore.

Can't take what?

All this acting so weird.

I haven't been acting weird.

All right, all right, all right,
I have been acting weird.

- You want to get rid of me.
- No, you idiot.

You're the idiot!

- I want you to stay, Pauline.
- Oh, I give up.

No, I give up.

Because I buy you
flowers, you yell at me.

I stand you up so you
don't think I'm so clingy,

you ignore me.

Have you any idea
how much I had to drink

to stay out that late
with my so-called mates

just to prove to you that,
yes, I do have a life of my own?

I didn't want
you to do all that.

Yes, you did.

Dad told me.

Oh, so, he told you
to act like a pillock?

He told me you
don't like how I am,

and he said I mumble.

What?

He said... He said I mumble.

No, you don't.

You don't have to
change completely.

So, there are bits
of me that you like?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

You going to tell
me what they are

so maybe I can work on them?

Why don't you work
it out for yourself?

He's got a lovely head of hair.

What the hell's going on?

Oh, my God!

You've turned my
kitchen into a crack den.

No, I haven't.

Is that cocaine?

No, it's paint.

I'm making paint.

You buy paint.
You don't make it.

You had me
thinking you were ill.

You're just a junkie.

I want you and your
narcotics out of my house!

I'm not a junkie, you moron.

I am not a moron, you junkie.

I'm just trying... I'm just...

Oh, God!

Yes.

- Did you send for an ambulance?
- Yes.

Will he be all right?

Hello!

Can you hear me?

Painter?

I think maybe he
ate something bad.

Why do you say that?

He just has that kind of "I
ate something bad" look,

don't you think?

His pulse is elevated.

Has he taken any
drugs to your knowledge?

How do you...

I mean, do you have to
know about that to help him?

Well, of course I do.

He's presenting like
he's had an overdose,

and I can't treat him if I
don't know what he's taken.

He's been taking crack cocaine!

See?

- He said he was making paint.
- Paint?

It's not his fault,
though. It's all the stress.

What stress?

He's been staying
up late at night,

working hard on this.

Not bad for a crackhead.

Mm.

"Samuel Birch, 1888."

Wake up!

Why did you sign
it Samuel Birch?

Because he's a forger.

Oh, shit.

Yeah, blue discoloration
along the gum line.

I think he's got lead poisoning.

Have you been making lead paint?

You can buy paint.

Not the sort they
used in the 1800s.

So, he's not a druggie?

No, he's a crook.

No.

Not Sam.

You don't get chronic
lead poisoning overnight.

I doubt if this is the
first time he's done it.

He'll need to go to hospital.

It's not what it looks like.

Did you even have a
trial for Plymouth Argyle?

Did you?

Oh, I can't, I can't.
It's just too beautiful.

Even you have to admit that.

I don't have to admit anything.

I have the right
to remain silent.

Good.

Why is that still up?

Some of the patients like it.

Oh!

Ohh!

Doc, could I have a word?

No.

You took my blood,
did some tests.

You're not ill.

You're fit and
healthy, physically.

I thought you might want this.

No, I don't.

- You said you liked it.
- No, I didn't.

Well, you agreed it
wasn't bad for a crackhead.

I've put some Tipp-Ex
over the signature,

so, technically, it's
not illegal anymore.

I'm trying to say sorry.

For what my brother nearly
did to our special relationship.

But we're okay now, yeah?

Uh...

Great.

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