Original subtitles

Our green garden.

Within it, a lonely man struggles to prevent it reverting to the jungle it

seems so determined to be.

A peacock screams like a woman.

The tools are honed to a razor edge.

He could open it to the public and they'd flock to look at it because of

the dark question mark hanging over the place.

The police dug up the flower beds when his wife died.

They were searching for a weapon they never found.

Poor Aileen, lying beneath the balcony in a pool of blood.

There wasn't enough evidence to bring him to trial, but he lost his job.

Public opinion made him redundant.

They're still talking about it in the village.

Not to his face, mind you.

His is the only house for miles around, home of Bill Foster, widower, alone.

condemned to spend as much time as he likes in his garden.

A woman alone, without any plans.

Just touring the countryside and staying where she finds herself.

Such fun.

Until your car breaks down.

What do you do when your car packs up in the back of Beyond?

Bell's loneliness is largely self-inflicted.

A defense against the whacking tongues.

The binoculars help.

literally bringing the everyday life around him a little closer sometimes.

She won't have a clue what goes on under there.

It'll take her an hour to walk to the nearest village.

Maybe someone will stop and give her a lift.

What on earth is she doing?

This is the dragon's pit, the wolf's lair.

Hello.

No woman comes in here. I'm sorry to trouble you.

What seems to be the difficulty?

Well, my car has broken down.

Oh, is that it down there?

Yes, I was wondering, would it be possible to use your telephone?

What make of car is it?

Ah, it's a Ford.

Oh, well, I used to run a Ford. Perhaps I can be of some assistance.

Well, I don't want to put you to any trouble.

It's just... Well, I don't know much about cars, but I might be able to get

it started. You never know.

He's noticed the grating of his own voice.

It's unused to conversation.

And you tried to turn the engine over and nothing happened? Absolutely.

Nothing happened at all.

You're not out of petrol, then?

There's something flowery, fragile about her.

Something... What's the name for it?

Something innocent.

Shall I open it for you?

What supernatural power has transfixed her car to this road?

Please, don't let it start.

What if, supposing... Would you mind

just turning it over for me?

Yes, of course.

Just a moment.

All right, try it again.

And once more.

Sorry. No luck?

Afraid not.

I'll have to try the garage.

Are you sure that's convenient?

That'll be fine.

That's very kind of you.

Nice legs.

I think I'll take my other bag as well.

Yes, that's a good idea. Aileen had nice legs.

Shall I take the keys? Oh, thank you.

How long is it?

Two years.

Since he was as close as this to a woman, he can't let her go.

Oh, would you like me to take your bag for you?

It's too good a chance to miss.

He's on fire.

with the possibilities and the attractions by no means one-sided.

There's something about him that appeals to her, something strong and proud.

Well, you're very lucky to live here.

Yes, it is a nice spot.

Do you know, I feel so stupid.

And he's lonely.

She knows what that is.

She's been alone since her husband fell for another woman.

Won't you walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.

I did put the house on the market a couple of years ago, but then I withdrew

it. I couldn't imagine myself not living in this jungle.

Will she catch the ghost screams of Aileen losing her balance and her life

on the garden path?

Please go in.

Thank you.

I never lock this place up.

We're very isolated here.

Not many intruders.

Very lucky.

Yes.

Thank you.

Sit down, please.

Thank you.

I'll just ring the garage. Excuse me. That's very kind of you. Thank you.

He can't actually ring the garage.

They'll be there till six anyway.

I'm afraid it's engaged.

How can I make you comfortable? Would you like something to drink?

I would love... A cup of tea.

Take your coat off.

This is very, very well.

Manage?

Just about.

Are you not lining me for the cup?

No, thanks.

Sugar? Oh, yes, please, two.

Thank you.

Five past six.

I'll try to get out of this once more.

I'm sorry to be so much trouble.

No problem.

Phil Foster.

My friend's car has broken down. It's about 200 yards below the house.

It's a green Ford.

I've locked it, and I've put the ignition keys on the offside wheel under

the mudguard.

Could someone call and look at it, please, and ring me about it here?

Thank you.

I'm afraid they were closed.

They had one of those, you know, those...

The machines are sort of answering machine things. Oh, I hate those things.

Yes, I know, so do I. I left a message about the car, but I'm afraid that the

very earlier that anyone will call, it'll be, um... It'll be tomorrow

morning, I should think.

Is there a hotel around?

Hotel?

Well, there's a sort of hotel.

Would you mind telephoning for a taxi for me?

I'm afraid the taxi service is run by the garage.

Look, I really feel I've troubled you too much. I must be on my way. No, no,

no. Please, no.

There's no reason why you shouldn't stay here.

I've plenty of room.

I'd like that very much.

Do you paint?

No.

My dead wife used to paint. That's her photograph over there.

Very pretty.

Yes, she is very pretty.

Well, I think perhaps I ought to get changed, if you'll excuse me.

Here we are. That's the kitchen. It's a bit pokey. You hungry?

I am starving. Well, I think we've got very much.

We can have a bit of sausage and... Oh, cheese.

Cheese. I'd like some cheese, yes.

Do you have any pickled onions?

Pickled onions.

Yes, pickled onions.

Bread. Some bread.

There.

And a knife for the cheese, huh?

Thank you.

Oh that sounds lovely.

Oh, my Lord, what have you done? I have cut my finger.

Just take your hand away slowly.

I am so stupid.

Sorry,

I just feel a bit faint inside of blood.

The cold tap for blood stains and bleeding.

Hold it tight.

I'm stupid.

Blood.

She can bear other people's, but her own.

Thank you.

I suppose we could put it down over here.

All right.

How did you put the lights out?

Oh, of course.

Do you want to sit down? Oh, thank you.

There. How's that?

Curtains.

How's the figure?

Oh, it's fine.

Thank you.

Oh, I left some tools out there. They'll get rusty. Excuse me a minute.

Certainly. Do help yourself to some wine.

Thank you.

photograph watching perhaps she's remembering happy days

at

last an oasis of light in the darkness of his life

Eileen had a blouse like that.

Silky.

Nice to touch.

Maybe she doesn't know how seductive she is.

Maybe she does.

Chilly out there.

It's nice and cosy in here.

Yes.

I'm sure.

Oh, thank you.

She's decided to tempt him a little.

Just to feel his strength.

Cheers.

Cheers. His hands are pinkly scrubbed and smell of soap.

They shake as if he was a boy.

You're trembling.

Yes.

The elaborate game develops under Aileen's stare.

The young man who runs the local garage is ambitious, zealous, begins his day

early.

A friend of mine's car has broken down and it's parked about 200 yards below

the house.

Interesting.

Didn't know Bill Foster had visitors.

Since his wife died.

That sort of visitor.

Simple job.

The petrol pump was blocked.

Odd the distributor lead being off.

Somebody had been tinkering by the look of it.

Out of order.

Oh, well.

Perhaps he hasn't paid the bill.

He might as well drive it out there.

Have to test it, anyway.

Lot of stories about this place.

Gossip, mainly.

Old wives' tales.

He doesn't believe them.

Never did.

He's got nothing against Bill Foster.

Bill?

I've got the Ford.

Oh. So that's why it's out of order.

The house is perfectly quiet.

All the rooms seem to be listening.

Hello?

That's better.

Remains of an intimate supper.

Almost forgot.

Old Bill's a compulsive gardener. He's probably up and at it already.

Kettle's cold.

They're probably still in bed.

That's blood.

Dry, but blood.

I mustn't jump to conclusions.

They never proved it was murder.

A bit hard, mind you, Mrs Forster falling like that.

The silence creeps back, like a criminal drawn to the scene of his crime.

Then he catches a stealthy noise, a dripping, trickling noise.

His heart begins beating like a hammer in the attentive house.

He inches along.

All eyes.

He wants to leave, but he can't.

He's got to find her.

She's got to be somewhere.

Here, perhaps, in the bath.

Goodness sakes, stop it.

Bill's okay.

They're in bed together.

Resting. Or...

not slept in.

Here lies our killer, sleeping like a baby.

Sleep on, Belfaster.

You've probably earned it.

Then it occurs to him that Bill could hardly have locked his door and left the

key on the outside.

Phil! Hey

Phil, come on!

Come get out now!

Just before we go, though, a reminder about police warning.

They're looking for a dark green Ford Escort registration number RDV850R.

It's driven by a woman with dark hair in her early 30s. If you see her, please

contact your local police station. But don't approach her. The police warn that

she's dangerous.

Well, from me, Ian Phillips, bye-bye for now.