All language subtitles for Grantchester - 05x03 - Episode 3.MTB.English.C

I baptise you
in the name of the Father...

...and the Son...

...and the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

There is no greater love on Earth

than that of a child for their parent.

They look to us for guidance,
comfort and unwavering support.

You are their safe harbour,
never forget that.

Your role as parents is a gift.

You have been chosen
to help shape a young life,

to guide them on the right path.

Who knows
what Nancy will grow up to become?

You can help make her dreams a reality,

with one vital ingredient.

Love.

- Bit heavy on your toes this morning.
- Oh, yes, this will help.

- Late night?
- Yeah, try no sleep at all.

You devil! Who was she?

No, no, nothing like that, I'm afraid.

I think my mum's disowned me, Vic.

It'll blow over, these things always do.

No. No, I think this is it.

I think she's done with me.

I've got two words for you, Will.

Sod her.

No, I mean it.

My dad left when I was six,
my mum couldn't give a damn.

Sod 'em, sod 'em both.

The gospel according to Saint Vic.

You've got your own life to live,
bloody well live it.

Oh, I wouldn't mind seeing that.

I get enough of that at work.

I don't know, he just was there.

- Miss Grainger?
- Where is he?

Um, Betsey, yes.

Inspector Keating,
you reported a break-in?

There was this Indian fella,

walked down the stairs,
bold as brass he was.

I don't know how he got in,
we weren't even open.

- Is he still on the premises?
- Isn't that your job?

Take the alley.

Let's see if your Indian man
is still here.

Anything of value in here?

Nothing, except these two beauties,
they're priceless. To me, anyway.

Why is there two?

Oh, it's a changeover system.
One reel plays, I ready the other.

I'm like the Wizard of Oz
behind the curtain,

keeping the dream alive.

- Where did you spring from?
- Fire escape alley.

The lock on the door downstairs
is knackered.

Eurgh, yes, I keep meaning
to tell head office about that.

- You're a long way from home, Mr...?
- Rogers, Wyatt.

I can't tell you how much
I miss the Hollywood sunshine.

And the magic of Tinseltown.

Is this anything to do with you?

It wasn't here last night when I left.

Someone's been sleeping here.
There's your answer.

A vagrant, probably.

Let's check the rest of the building.

So, are you an actor?

Screenwriter. Well, was.
Call it a sabbatical.

- As a projectionist?
- I'm on the blacklist.

Just another victim
of Senator McCarthy's witch-hunt.

They think you're a witch?

Don't they have a news section
in The Beano, Larry?

Have you met anybody famous?

Marlon Brando's a sweet guy.
Doris Day's a gas.

John Wayne, not so much.

If I'd half a crown
every time I heard this story.

If I'd half a crown every time
you asked me to repeat it.

No sign of your intruder.

I think Miss Grainger scared him off.

If only I'd known.
We all need a little charity.

It's what makes us tick, right?
It's the beauty of this place.

Transports us to new worlds.

We forget ourselves, and yet...

...it's us we search for up there.

Exposing us to feelings
we never thought we'd know.

Boredom, mostly.

The public are banging
on the doors for the matinee.

So, let them in, then.

We'll leave you to it.

Any chance you can get me
Brando's autograph?

Just coming.

I hope this buttercream
is not too stiff,

or I'll not hear the end of it.

- You worry too much.
- You have met Mrs Bennett?

Drive slowly,
I don't want this on my lap.

- You made it.
- I'm here with Larry.

You're so easy to tease.

- Have you been eating popcorn?
- Why? What?

- You're so easy to tease.
- Oh, shut up.

Vic. Good to see you.

- This is my lovely wife, Marie.
- Pleasure to meet you at last.

Likewise. Vic won't shut up about you.

- Sounds like I've got competition.
- We both do, honestly,

it's all I hear, Will this, Will that.

- Who knew there was so much to say?
- This is Ellie Harding.

Hi.

Taking advice from the gospel, I see.

I'll make sure my lot
don't cramp your style.

Oh, look at him!

Oh, you scrub up well.

Yeah, well, someone's
got to show you how it's done.

- Now, give it here!
- Cigarette, sir?

- Hero, come.
- I'm not too keen on pets.

Never mind, you stay where you are,
I'll get him.

- Ciggies, handsome?
- We're fine, thank you.

Are you sure I can't tempt you?

He's got all the temptation
he needs, thanks.

- Good morning, Louis.
- Mummy...

I'm so sorry you've been disturbed.

Your cup of cocoa, with a dash of cream.

Oh...

Whatever did I do to deserve you?

What in heaven's name?

There's a man, Jack!
There's a man in our garden.

Hey!

Hey!

Coward!

Bye-bye, thanks
for the nice tea, and everything.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

What is that woman playing at?

You're stuck in the door...

Well, ring the bell, Brains,
don't just stand there.

Thank you.

- It's probably just a hitch.
- So far, so disastrous.

I don't know,
I'd say it's going pretty well.

- You do know he's a vicar?
- So?

Well, he's off-limits downstairs.
Unlike me, on the other hand.

You need to work on your chat-up lines.

I wasn't talking to you.

Help me! It won't stop bleeding.

I'll call for an ambulance.

I'm afraid it's too late for that.

Please, will you all
remain in the foyer?

It's a good job you're here.
That poor mite's in over his head.

It's your lot.
Could you give him a hand?

Looks like
he could do with a stiff drink.

Ellie, always one step ahead.
I don't know how you do it.

- Who tipped you off this time?
- Actually, I...

We're, um...

Oh, I see.

Get some statements, would you?

That's one way
of letting him down gently.

- I thought you said she was immoral?
- I said what she did was immoral.

Excuse me, ladies, if you could wait
to speak to the inspector...

- If you need to talk, then...
- Ellie.

It's Miss Grainger, isn't it?

- Oh, don't mind us, Mr...?
- Parker.

Edwin Parker.

I understand you found the body,
is that right?

Did either of you see anyone come
or go from the projection booth?

I arrived late from my break

and went straight into the auditorium.

I was in here.

I can't be sure, but I think
I saw that Indian fella.

Oh, my God. It could have been me.

Did Wyatt ever mention any dealings
with this Indian fella before?

I only started last month.
Typing pool before that.

A bunch of wallflowers,

counting down the days
till they get married off.

Talk about the death of hope.

Wyatt kept himself to himself.

This place was his second home.

Here, look, mine's clean.

Silly, isn't it?
I only knew him for five minutes.

Some people
can still make quite an impact.

This Indian man, what did he look like?

Err...

He was just dark, obviously.

Scrawny looking, navy suit.

Get on the radio,
circulate a description.

What time did you find the body?

About quarter past eight, give or take.

Film started at seven thirty,

two reels played of a 90 minute film,

that's, err...

- What? Roughly...
- 20 minutes each. Why?

Wyatt was still alive
when he changed the second reel.

Gives us a time of death
of about ten past eight.

Rules out robbery.

Distinguished service medal.

Subedar Aasim Hassan.
At least we have a name.

Subedar is not a name, it's a rank.

Indian army.

Perhaps this intruder
wasn't an intruder after all.

Question is...

how does he know our American friend?

Do you have to go
creeping around like that?

What do you want? A fanfare
every time I enter the room.

Someone threw a brick through
the Chapman's window last night.

What? Are you OK? Sit down, Mrs C.

- I don't want to sit down.
- The young today.

They lack rectitude, that's the problem.

This could be the thin end
of a monoecious wedge.

And I don't need any
of your big words either, Leonard.

Why would anyone want to hurt you?

No one needs a reason these days,
it seems.

- Talk to Geordie.
- Jack doesn't want to make a fuss.

You won't be making a fuss.

No, it's done.

I will not be cowed
by a little brown man

in a moth-eaten suit.

We will not be cowed.

Have you seen my name badge anywhere?

Oh, yeah, it's on the side
with your handbag and keys.

Shall I get fish and chips tonight
on my way home?

Friday night treat.

Actually, I thought
we'd eat ours on the beach.

Clacton-on-Sea's
a hop, skip and a jump by bus.

Oh, they've got school.

- Why are you not in your uniforms?
- It's only one day.

- There are rules, Mum!
- And rules are made to be broken.

- Please.
- I said, "No".

When was the last time
you and Geordie took them anywhere?

Do you remember winning that
donkey race when you were nine?

Barbara had a face like a slapped leg.

I kept the rosette on for a week,
just to rub her nose in it.

Happy days.

Please.

All right, then. Back by four. Be good!

- Esme, Esme!
- And don't tell your father.

We're going to the seaside.

Is Geordie about? There's been
another sighting of your suspect.

- I know.
- Keep up, vicar.

Farmer found him
sleeping in his hayloft.

- Fast work, Larry.
- I could say the same about you.

Same surname as the medal,
different Christian name.

Does he speak English?

- He didn't say a word in the car.
- How's your Urdu?

Oh, OK. I admit it,
I've been using too much Brylcream.

Telephone the American Embassy,
track down Wyatt Rogers' next of kin.

Yes, boss.

- Ooh, he's gunning for you.
- So I gathered.

Mr Hassan was picked up
outside Grantchester.

It's plausible
he broke the Chapman's window.

Two crimes solved in one day.
We'll be in the pub by lunchtime.

You arrived within the last week.
What was your purpose here?

You've got no money, no home.
So, why come?

Give that back. It's my father's.

So, you do speak English?
Do you like playing silly buggers?

It's the only thing I have left
to remember him by.

He was a soldier?

He fought alongside the British,
El Alamein.

Tough campaign, ey?

He had respect
for their principles and integrity.

He was wrong on both counts.

What was it doing
in the victim's pocket?

I must have dropped it in the
projection booth, I don't know.

I-I... heard someone come, I ran.

We have witnesses that put you
at the cinema last night, too.

- They're mistaken, I wasn't there.
- Then where were you?

Was it you
who broke the Chapman's window?

Do you know what you get in this
country for murder, Mr Hassan?

- The death penalty.
- You're trying to pin this on me?

The inspector is just trying
to understand what happened.

You have no interest in the truth.

You British are all liars.

Would you really murder someone
over a medal?

Well, you can't put a price
on sentiment.

Some people can't let go
of their parents.

I'm going to take your word for it.

Your mother still going kamikaze
with St John, then?

Ah, it's her life.

Why would you make the journey
all the way from Pakistan,

to end up in Grantchester,
of all places?

Unless you had a reason.

Let's see if Wyatt can tell us.

He certainly lived the Hollywood dream.

What are we looking for, exactly?

Anything that might connect
our murder victim to Mr Hassan.

Quiet a dent.

One way to solve writer's block.

Our debonair Mr Rogers

didn't strike me as the type
to sleep with a teddy bear.

- Ooh. Cristal. None of your rubbish.
- You would know.

What's an exiled screenwriter
doing living the high life

on a projectionist's wage?

- Lipstick marks.
- Hmm?

New relationship, then.
Lipstick and bubbly.

Before you know it, it's
a cup of cocoa and an early night.

With who?
Edwin said he never left the cinema.

Take your pick.

Can't it wait?
I've got a matinee in ten minutes.

You said you hardly knew him.

I'm sorry, I...

I didn't mean to.

It was early days.

A kiss and a cuddle
in the projection booth.

- And a night in his flat.
- I'm not a tart.

Wyatt bought me champagne.

No-one's ever
bought me champagne before.

A lot of blokes
want to get their leg over...

...not many treat you like
a film star while they're at it.

But why keep it quiet?

Edwin. He can be a little bit intense.

Ah. Jealous type, is he?

He's a little creep.
I catch him staring at me sometimes.

And you, Miss Grainger...

...are you the jealous type?

Made up your mind about me,
haven't you, Inspector?

This lot was found
in Wyatt's little trophy cabinet.

Under his bed.

They're head shots.

Wyatt took them
for a Hollywood agent friend of his.

Said he'd fly me out for a screen test.

Said I had potential.

Oh, it's all here in...

black and white.

"Thank you for submitting
your photo and resume.

"You remind me very much
of a young Marilyn Monroe."

Maybe if he'd only seen the photo.

- Is there a name?
- Marcus Remington.

The Remington partnership,
Wiltshire Boulevard.

Why anyone would want to be famous
is beyond me.

Life's not your own.

All that money and adoration
must be terrible (!)

Look who's got his hand in the till.

Can I help you?

Turn out your pockets.

Hey, what happened
to the presumption of innocence, hm?

You were saying?

Matt, stop.

Give me one good reason
why I shouldn't give up on you.

I think he just gave you two.

A rat always finds its way back
to the nest.

- Not helpful, Geordie.
- What's going on?

I caught him
stealing from the cinema till.

Crawling with bobbies after last night.

- Not exactly brain of Britain.
- Oh, mate, you didn't, did you?

Oh, well. Win some, lose some.

If only my job was always this easy.

I don't understand.
Why are you doing this?

You like it here.
why are you throwing it all away?

- If anyone is to blame, it's me.
- Really?

It's the running costs of this place.

They are through the roof, and...

we've been rowing in front
of the boys, haven't we, love?

- Matthew did it for us.
- Where's the money?

- I threw it away.
- You threw it away?

- Nice try, Vic.
- Wait, can we at least discuss this?

Matthew Butler,
I'm arresting you for larceny.

- Are you coming?
- No.

See you later, then.

Are things that bad?

- I didn't want to burden you.
- We're friends, Vic.

They're pretty bad.

Will Geordie let Matt go
if I pay the cinema back?

With what?

It was in Matthew's locker.
I'm assuming it's all there.

This doesn't change anything.

If the cinema gets their money...

If the Beaumont want to press charges.

So, have a word with them.
Please. For me.

- Boss.
- Hmm.

Mr and Mrs Chapman are here
for the ID parade.

Bring them through. Chase up the Yanks.

I'll ask, but don't hold your breath.

Jack. Mrs C. Thanks for coming in.

Far be it from me
to shirk a public duty.

Right, Mrs C,
if you'd like to follow me.

On my own?

It was only you that saw the suspect.

Why don't I come with her?
Provide some moral support.

- It's not how it works, Jack.
- I'd like that very much.

I promise I won't say a word.

If you recognise the gentleman
that broke your window,

I'd like you to tap him on the shoulder.

Don't worry, I'm here.

No.

No, too tall.

No. Too portly.

Apologies.

That's the brute,
I'd recognise him anywhere.

I take it we're finished here.

We need a full statement from you
before we can press charges.

That won't be necessary.

For an act of wanton vandalism?

The poor man looks deluded, Sylvia.

If you ask me,
he's in need of medical attention,

not incarceration.

It's the Christian thing to do.

Whatever you think best.

- Well, if you change your mind.
- The matter's closed, Inspector.

Hello!

Anybody home?

Mum?

Mrs C claims her window was broken
at quarter past eight.

So?

Wyatt was murdered
at around ten past eight.

Even Roger Bannister
can't be in two places at once.

What about the medal in Wyatt's pocket?

Perhaps Tariq's telling the truth.

Perhaps he just dropped it
and Wyatt picked it up.

I really don't have enough
to hold him at this rate.

Humphrey Bogart would've had
this case wrapped up in two hours.

Including intermission.

Boss. I contacted the American Embassy.

And?

Not a dicky bird.

So, I spoke to the Beaumont head office,

got hold of Wyatt's
sister's address. Guess what?

She lives just up the road in Kettering.

The only photo she had of him.
Their parents died when he was five.

Car crash.

They lost touch for a while,

taken into different children's homes.

So, Wyatt's not even American.

Hollywood connections.
I didn't believe a word of it.

Larry was like a guppy at feeding time.

People believe
what they want to believe.

Probably charging all those women

through the nose
for his Hollywood connections.

I can't stop thinking
about the teddy bear.

Oh, yes? What,
fond memories of private school?

You saw Wyatt's room.

All that memorabilia,
it was like a film set.

This teddy bear
is the last piece of his old life.

So?

So, I don't think Wyatt was a conman.

I think he was a fantasist.

It's hardly a charmed childhood, is it?

Lose both your parents,
parted from your sister,

suddenly your identity's gone,

so why not invent something
he could be proud of?

Financially, or not,
he still conned those women.

Or, he wanted them to believe
in the best version of themselves.

You're sounding more and more like Vic.

There are worse things.

All right.

We'll speak with
the blonde bombshell in the morning.

- And what about Matthew?
- What about him?

Nothing like a night in the cells
to focus the mind. Night.

I was locked in here once.

Geordie was the one who arrested me.

If you say so.

No, it's true. Been friends ever since.

Why steal money
and then throw it away, Matt?

Do you know what I think it is?

What?

I expected too much of you.

No-one can change overnight.

Yeah... that's it.

You expected too much of me.

Tell your friend
I've got nothing to say.

Good night.

Come on. Here we are.

- Hello!
- Where have you been?

Oh, sorry, lost track of the time.

You could have called from a phone box.

Oh, we had to run for the bus.

The girls loved
splashing about in the water,

- didn't want to come home.
- Liar!

Esme.

It was so embarrassing.
Singing on the bus.

Everybody loves
'It's A Long Way to Tipperary'!

Everyone was staring at us,
and then David went missing.

- What?
- I turned my back for a moment...

Dora and Ivy were crying,
I didn't know what to do.

So dramatic. Just like your mother.

- Oof.
- Don't... you... dare.

- Hello!
- Go on, upstairs.

Hello, love. How was your day?

Fine. You?

Yeah, fine.

Wait there, Mr Hassan.

I want a word with you.

You must be famished.

- There you go.
- Thank you.

Thank you.

Miss Grainger,
sorry to bother you again.

- What is it this time?
- Your head shots.

Did Mr Rogers solicit money from you
for arranging them?

He took them with his camera.

Wyatt knew I didn't have
two farthings to rub together.

None of us do.

- Edwin doesn't even get a wage.
- He works here for nothing?

You think head office would let that
bag of nerves near the public?

Wyatt let him watch all the films
for free, such a big heart.

He even gave him this medal he found,

reckoned it might be worth
something down the pawnshop.

How do you know my husband?

I didn't come down
with the last shower, Mr Hassan.

My father was stationed in Amritsar.

Mr Chapman was a civil servant,

attached to the
Military Evacuation Organisation.

Jack was in India?

- During the partition, yes.
- Partition?

The British divided our country
with a stroke of a pen.

Do you know what it's like

to find yourself
an enemy in your own country?

- I can't say that I do.
- I was only 12 years old.

The roads were run with blood.

Uncles, aunties, school friends,
butchered like cattle.

All in the name of religion.

I'm sorry.

But, what's this got to do with Jack?

There were more refugees
than trains to carry them.

Mr Chapman commandeered a truck,

drove families across the border,
for a price.

- No.
- Jewellery, gold.

They keep their value, you see.

Are you sure you've got the right man?

Father was separated from us.

My mother pleaded with Mr Chapman
to wait a few minutes,

but he could not...

My mother gave him her emerald ring

as payment to make the extra journey.

It was her engagement ring.

We heard a rumour
that my father was murdered

before he could get to the truck.

I want to know if that's true.
I need to know.

So you can stop looking?

I'm sorry for the window...

...but your husband
refused to talk to me.

He knew you were here?

Guilty conscience.

I'm so sorry, Mr Hassan.

Please, give this to your mother.

I hope it's of some consolation to her.

- What's this?
- An apology.

I should have consulted you yesterday.

No, you were right.

We should've called the men in
white coats when we had the chance.

Sylvia, what's happened?

- I spoke to him.
- I see.

He told me about his mother's ring.

- You gave it to him?
- You told me it was an heirloom.

And if I'd told you the truth,
what good would that have done?

India was... a different time,
different rules.

What about Tariq's father?

He didn't make it.

And you still kept his wife's ring,
knowing full well...

- I decided to give her some hope.
- You lied to her!

You lied to me.

How do you feel
about Betsey Grainger, Edwin?

You couldn't do enough for her
the night Wyatt was killed.

Are you in love with her?

Betsey's a real pin-up,
every young lad's dream.

Did you find out
about their relationship?

Were you jealous, Edwin, is that it?

What did you do, son?

I just put the medal in his pocket,
that's all.

You set out to frame an innocent man.

You lied about seeing Tariq Hassan
that night.

Wyatt was already dead
when I got there, I swear.

Oh, God, there was so much blood.

What a waste.

Thrown his life away
for the sake of a schoolboy crush.

Oh, Edwin's not in love with Betsey.
He's in love with the idea of her.

They're all as bad as each other.

I mean, fantasists, the lot of them.

Wyatt lived in a flipping film set,
for God's sake.

Everything in his life was a prop.

Wait a minute, wait. The letter.

Marcus Remington.

When are you going to learn?

For your information,
Betsey contacted me.

I didn't mean to cause any trouble,

I just want the world to know
what a good man Wyatt was.

Despite the fact he lied to you,
Miss Grainger?

- Lied to me?
- The letter...

...it was a fake.

- What?
- So was Wyatt.

He wasn't a screenwriter,
he wasn't even American.

But you knew that already.

No.

- No, I loved him.
- No, you didn't.

It's the fame you love.

Hence this little kiss-and-tell circus.

Not quite Tinseltown, but I suppose
the local rag will suffice.

Oi!

The agent's letter.
You found him out, didn't you?

Marcus Remington.

You'd worked in a typing pool,
so recognised the name.

You realised
there was no Hollywood agent.

Wyatt was your dream ticket,

but he sold you a fantasy
and you fell for it.

Argh!

You confronted Wyatt
in the projection booth.

Gave him the same treatment
you gave his typewriter.

Do you know what he said?

He said, "It didn't matter".

That he'd, "Fly me to Hollywood anyway".

Pay a visit to some agents,
like some door-to-door salesman.

He stood there...

...beaming at me...

...like it was some big adventure.

You're such a goddamn drama queen.

Argh!

You switched the reels.

It's hardly rocket science.

You'd think you need a PhD,
the way Wyatt waxed on about it.

He was dying on the floor
and all you could think about

was buying yourself enough time
to get an alibi.

Edwin must have seen you come
from the projection booth.

He tried to cover it up for you,
because he thought he was in love.

As if I'd give him a second glance.

Pervy, little creep.

Betsey Grainger, I'm arresting you
for the murder of Wyatt Rogers.

- That man took my dreams from me.
- Oh, come on. You're no fool, Betsey,

you believed him because you wanted to.

It's a cruel world we live in, vicar.

Nothing wrong with a bit
of harmless fantasy now and then.

Oh, you can have that one for free.
It's Betsey with an E, by the way.

Well, she's tenacious,
I'll give her that.

That's the problem with modern women,

they know what they want.

My first front-page scoop.

Will I be in it?

I'll be kind.

How does "Grantchester's
most eligible vicar" sound?

I'm Grantchester's only vicar.

Perhaps we need to discuss
alternatives over a drink.

Get off me.

Hmm, it's not much of a dressing room...

...but, it'll have to do.

This is your lucky day.

Mr Davenport seems intent
on saving your soul.

You owe this man your gratitude.

- Thanks.
- And...

...some money.

But try not to steal
in front of a policeman next time.

It was Inspector Keating who spoke
to the Beaumont head office.

- Thanks, Keatsy.
- Only because you twisted my arm.

I don't know what we'd do without
you, Will, honestly. We'd be lost.

- I don't know about that.
- Come to dinner at ours tonight.

- She does a mean steak pie.
- Sorry...

Larry. I meant to say, good work.
You've just earned yourself a pint.

- Really?
- You're buying.

- Night.
- Night.

I didn't think
this was your cup of tea, at all.

Oh, there's a lot of things
you don't know about me.

Kettering? The Yank was from Kettering?

The whole thing was a total fabrication.

Still, Betsey-with-an-E is right,

nothing wrong with
a harmless fantasy now and then.

Who said anything about harmless?

♪ I want to kiss your lips
And never say goodbye ♪

♪ A sweet romantic bliss ♪

♪ And make you smile ♪

♪ I want a song to play ♪

♪ And hear your love is here to stay. ♪

♪ Just you and me
Under the pale moonlight ♪

♪ Together dancing
Up all night ♪

♪ The warmth of your body
Against my heart ♪

♪ Dancing together for ever... ♪

Where are we going?

Don't stop.

Don't stop, for God's sake.

Will!

Faith is the glue that binds us to God.

Faith is about trust.

Beware who,
or what you put your faith in.

Faith in a fantasy is destructive.

Faith without question
closes our eyes to the truth.

Living a lie can only end in sorrow.

Being honest with ourselves
is often the most painful path.

When we fail
to acknowledge the truth, we lie.

And when we lie, we fall.

And we take God with us.

Sync & corrections by emeline-whovian
www.addic7ed.com