All language subtitles for The Family Pile s01e02 The Secrets of the Shed.eng

CONNOR: Ah, it's breaking my back!

Here. Take that through, son.

SIGHS

Have a lifetime of arthritis,
won't we?

Looks like we've got
the place to ourselves for once.

Aw! Were you hoping
for a catch-up with the girls?

No. Stuart, think about it.
I am.

When do we ever get time alone?

Once Connor's done his bits,
we could ask our Ciaron.

Well... we could bribe our Ciaron
to come and get him, and then...

You can say goodbye to the place
in peace.

No.

Stuart, no.

YVETTE: Hiya!
What are you doing here?

Oh, nice to see you, too (!)
And why are you so dolled up?

I-I'm... I'm just gonna, er...

CONNOR AND STUART
CHATTER

I hope you haven't got Austin
up there with you.

Nicole, I've told you, I don't want
Ursula to find out about that.

What, the two people closest to her,

her sister and her husband,
going behind her back?

Hmm, three. You kept it to yourself,

and if you snitch now,
our Ursh will never forgive you.

Don't push it.

Our Raymond's been on.
Ooh, how is my favourite nephew?

Thanks, Dad (!)
You're my son.

Oh, yeah. Hi, Auntie Vetty.
Mwah. Yeah, he's fine.

He's on a layover
in Chongqing Jiangbei,

but he was asking about the hat
Mum wore to Gaynor's wedding.

Does he want you to wear it
when he marries Marco?

No. One of his stewards
is auditioning for Drag Race.

He thought it might get a big laugh.
What about you lot?

Oh, God, you're not clearing
the place, are you, for the sale?

Because once I've tracked down
that hat, I've got to do things.

Not today, no.

I don't even think the buyers
have put theirs on the market yet.

I could stay for a coffee.

Oh, Connor's art homework
is to make a collage

on the subject of "My Hero".

And guess who he's chosen?
Y-You?

You would think, but no.

His grandad.
Oh, Con!

Oh, that's...
I know.

So we're just gonna dig out a few
photos and stuff before we sort.

Make sure they aren't
from Raymond's 21st, eh?

The fancy dress?
Oof...

What was Dad thinking?
We'll never know.

Although, your mum did look
super glam as Eva Braun.

WHISPERS: She did.
WHISPERS: Didn't she just?

Right! Come on. Let's see what
we can find... and actually use.

Aw! Isn't that sweet of Con?

Sweet works when you're little.

Is it really what you want
when you're 12?

He's being picked on
by the other lads at school.

The little sods!
What are they calling him?

Well, I'm guessing "nerdy",
"boring", "knobhead".

When I think back to my school days
and all the bullying...

SIGHS

..it was kids like Connor
that we saw as easy pickings.

So... not that he really should
start wearing deodorant?

It won't help.

Oh, God, and all the other lads

will have picked Thor
and Paddy the Baddy,

and there's our Connor getting
all weepy over his dead grandad.

If I find the right moment,
I'll have a word.

Oh, Christ, no, I wasn't angling.

GAYNOR: Are you there, Nic?
SIGHS

Gaynor, we're supposed to be

clearing the place,
not adding to it.

We've been driven from our home.
What is it this time?

A fucking big seagull's
set up shop in our back yard.

She's only gone
and had the babies there.

If we so much as open the back door,
she goes mental.

Er, you can't say "mental"
these days. It's ableist.

She's a seagull! She won't know!

Well, one of Raymond's stewards
is facing a tribunal.

Mind, that was on the flight
to Lourdes, so...

Why can't you just tell her to shoo?

Cos she's massive!
Like a ptero-fucking-dactyl!

Yeah, if I go outside
for a cheeky vape...

Boomf! Divebombs. It's like
something out of Hitchcock.

Rear Window?

No, mind,
but it is in the back yard.

Can't even bring the washing in.

Half me bras and all Greg's boxies
are still out on the line.

Yeah, I'm going commando here!

Don't wanna provide a moving target,
Gregory.

Behave, you.

You can't just permanently migrate
back here. We've agreed to sell.

No, we're not.
We're going to my ma's and da's

once they get back from Laser Quest.

How are Wendy and Glenn?

I don't mean to gloat,
but they're absolutely thriving.

As soon as they're back,

we're gonna go borrow their dog
and set it on that seagull.

You can't do that.
This is what I said.

Don't be a snowflake.
Look, it's the law of the jungle.

Or... law of the seaside.

Your mum and dad have only got
that little schnauzer.

A seagull could carry
that off in its beak.

Poor Bongo.
For all the trouble she's causing,

me and that seagull have got
an understanding, both just mums

trying to protect our chicks.

Aw!
Where is Poppy?

Oh, shit,
she's still out in the car.

You know what? She'll be all right.

She's got that "Explorey Dory" thing
on her iPad.

You putting the kettle on, Nic?

Have these got nuts in?
I've got no idea.

Well, can you check?

Oh, for God's sake,
you've not even been diagnosed.

It's just something
you've decided you've got

to make yourself feel
more interesting.

I know my own body.
Yeah, and I know mine.

Pain in the arse in it
at the moment. "May contain trace."

I'll chance it.
Gaynor, it's a biscuit.

You're not storming an embassy.
STUART GRUNTS

So, has Connor told you all
about his collage?

Of Dad? Oh, yeah.

Just try and put a bit more effort
in than with my birthday card, eh?

Three Ps in "happy"?

Bit tight on the kids,

making them pore over pictures
of dead rellies all weekend.

The theme is "My Hero".
Oh, and he chose your dad?

You know what strings to pull there,
don't you, kid? Eh?

Is this to get those tickets
to Comic Con, Con?

No. Greg, he just misses his grampy,
that's all.

Right? If he wanted
to diddle tickets out of us,

he would've made the collage of me.

Yeah, all right.
Who would your hero be, Greg?

Oh, er...
Because mine would be me.

All the setbacks I've faced,
having our Raymond so young,

and... God, that awful perm.

I've never let it dent my spirits.

I tell you what,
these might be slowly killing me,

but they are good dunkers.
DOOR SLAMS

Oh, aye-aye, here she is,
Captain Marvel.

Once again,
you've all got together without me.

We didn't get together without you.
We all turned up at the same time.

You always say that.

But if I hadn't been cycling past
and spotted all your cars,

I'd never have known.

Why were you cycling past when
you know the house needs clearing?

Is that why you're all here?
ALL: Yeah.

Fine. Well, I'll stay
and pitch in, then.

We're having coffee first.

Vetty, is that the hat
Mum wore to my wedding?

Yes! You do know
she bitterly regretted it

and blamed it
on her thyroid medication?

Y-Yeah... Obviously,
I'm not wearing it for real.

I'm lending it to a drag queen.

Hey, my ma borrowed her hat
off a drag queen.

Do you remember, babe?
Stunk of poppers, you know.

By the way, Gaynor,
I spotted your car.

Haven't you forgotten something?

What? Er, to take it to the carwash
any time this year.

It's covered in bird do.

They're onto us! They've caught wind
of the dog plan, they're ganging up!

Wind your neck in, babe.

What do you think they are,
like, the feathery CIA?

They're on the run from seafowl.

Well, if their little girl touches
any of those droppings,

she could go blind.

Bloody hell. Poppy!

Aw, he's such a good dad.

Talking of which,

this fella's making
a collage in tribute to Reggie.

Really? What's he after?

Comic Con tickets.
No!

Unless, of course... you and
Uncle Austin are feeling generous.

No.
OK.

We are struggling
to find things to stick on it.

There's loads of parking tickets,
and that letter

that he got back from Mary Berry,
but we can't use that.

The language is obscene.

He didn't pull any punches
over her lemon drizzle,

so why should she?

You're looking
in completely the wrong place.

The sideboard
was never Dad's domain.

NICOLE INHALES

Smells of Dad.
I'm just getting soil.

That was Dad's sort of smell.

I don't think I've ever set foot
in here before.

Well, it was Dad's little man cave,
wasn't it?

Although,
why he kept it padlocked...

I'd be desperate for crackheads
to break in and clear the place.

Could that still be an option?

Ursh, you don't gossip, do you?
No, I've no interest.

So can I ask you something?

If it's in the legal
or financial sphere, yeah.

Anything personal,
and I will remind you,

you have two other sisters
and a niece.

Poppy's four!

Female colleagues?
A neighbour you occasionally nod at?

Oh, it's just... lately,
Stuart's lost his oomph.

SIGHS

Stu had an oomph?

Oh, God, yeah.
He'd have me every which way.

We even tried role play.

Dirty traffic warden,
dirty Amazon delivery man,

dirty shepherd, dirty oncologist...

OK, I get the picture...
too much of.

But nowadays, he's just...
SIGHS

..so considerate...
if he even bothers at all.

Why have you chosen
to burden me with this?

I know Gaynor
has no complaints with Greg,

and Vetty's never had a man
long enough, but you and Austin...

Oh, here we go! Listen,
I know we don't make much sense

from the outside or...
from any other angle.

No, I'm not saying that.
I'm saying we're the same.

We've been married donkey's years.

Surely, at times,
his enthusiasm's waned.

No. Why would it?

Oh, God, just forget about it, then.
Let's see what we can find.

All right.

What about Dad's collection
of old pub towels?

Does it make him
seem like an alcoholic?

Makes him seem like a kleptomaniac.

If you throw in
the beer glasses and ashtrays,

it's no wonder The Anchor went bust.

I don't know. What's in these boxes?
NICOLE SIGHS

It'll just be full of man stuff,

like creosote, old jump leads,
different types of batteries...

Actually, I do need some batteries
for my... remote.

Oh, my God! Dad!

What?
CHUCKLES

THEY GASP
Oh, good God.

Try some of the other boxes.
Does he have any gardening gloves?

NICOLE LAUGHS
Oh, yeah.

"Bouncing Babes",
"Naughty Nurses"...

Right.

Well, at least we know why he kept
those pub towels handy, eh?

NICOLE CHUCKLES

Ew! Ew! Dead Dad's jizz!

URSULA RETCHES

You assume people have their urges,
but the volume...

Escort, Razzle... Farmyard Fun.

Oh, God. It's literally a shedload.
No wonder he kept it padlocked.

And we thought he was only in here
for his nightly spliff.

The innocence of youth, eh?
God, it's funny how fashions change.

They're not wearing anything.

No, the grooming.
This one looks like ZZ Top.

We can't tell the others about this.

It's bad enough we've had
our own illusions shattered.

You can't keep secrets in a family.

Well, Dad did long enough.

And sometimes,
it is the kindest thing.

I'm not gonna tell my kids
about my clubbing days,

from what I can remember of them.

How we hot-wired that van.
That was you and Vetty.

Ah.

The fake passports. Come on.
Oh, God, I miss it.

Not gonna tell my kids that.

Gaynor and Vetty
need to be protected.

Well, then,
only leaves us one choice.

We suffocate them.
Ha-ha (!) We bin the lot.

Here we go! I found these for you.

Just filter out the ones where
he's smoking or flicking the Vs.

I've already taken out the moony.
Oh, thanks.

But first... come sit by me a mo.

I'm doing me homework.
Eh, don't be such a swot. Come on.

Now...

you know
if you ever have any problems,

it helps to talk them through
with someone.

I do. I talk to Nana.

Oh, Connor, I do that.

I say, "You had all them years
with Dad, you jammy moo.

"Can't you sort me out with a fella?

"There must be some strings
in heaven you could pull.

"A lottery win would be nice."

Oh, not loads.
Not so much it all turns nasty.

You don't want the whole family
coming round, cap in hand.

You know, just enough for a mansion
and a sports car

and six glam holidays a year.

No, I mean the one
who's still alive, Dad's mum.

Your mum said some lads at school
are giving you grief.

I do know what that's like.

Not from lads,
I always very popular there,

but when I was your age,
a bunch of...

let's just call them
dirty, hard-faced scrubbers,

used to pick on me.

It was the usual thing,
sly digs, gobbing at me,

setting fire to me desk.

And d'you know why?

You can sometimes... be quite vain?

Big-headed?

Not everyone likes that.

No... it was jealousy.

My skin, my hair,
my De La Soul pencil case.

And d'you know what I did?
Told Grampy to have a word?

No. I set your mum and Auntie Ursula
onto them.

No!
Mm-hm.

Your mum had
one of Grampy's cricket bats,

and Ursh got her hands
on some nunchucks.

Mum and Auntie Ursh, all tooled up?
Yeah.

They told these heifers,
"Go near our sister again,

"you'll be spitting out teeth
till Christmas... both ends."

They got the message.

Well...

I'm not gonna get me mum
and auntie on them cos...

..wouldn't help.

Mm, might make you seem
a mummy's boy.

Well, more of.

Well, just you remember,

this family
will always have your back,

even if we have to kneecap people.

Aw, my little Con-con! Come here.

Do you never think to wear that
Lynx box set I got you for Crimbo?

Hm?

Hm!

SEAGULLS SQUAWK

All right, sweetie-pie,
the seagull can't get you here.

THUD ON WINDOW

Aww. There she is!

WHISPERS: Little sleepy-head.

I am. I'm buggered.

We were bingeing the Ted Bundy Tapes
till three.

I meant Poppy.
No, she's waking up, aren't you?

Go and have a play, babe.

Come on.
HE BABBLES

It's a full-time job, isn't it, Stu?

It can be.
Yeah, all right, ta-ra.

That was me dad.
Let slip the dogs of war!

Bongo's a no-go.
They don't rate his chances.

I'm telling you, Stu,
this is my childhood all over again.

That little fella, he just needs
someone to believe in him.

Well, you know,
I never supported the idea.

I mean, I want that seagull gone,
but not ripped to shreds.

Do you? I mean, you keep twanging
back here like you're on elastic.

Well, Dad would've known
how to deal with this,

and he wouldn't have gone down
the violent route like you.

Mum would, but Dad was a lover,
not a fighter.

Your dad would've just
took it down The Anchor

and got it absolutely bladdered.

That was his solution to everything,
babe. Not always.

Not when Auntie Pat had cirrhosis.

He was a giant among men, my dad,

and nothin'
will ever make me think otherwise.

Ah. Ew!

Is that the lot?
If only. Another six bin bags.

What's all this?

You said we weren't clearing today.
I've got places to be.

It's just rubbish from the shed,
since we were in there.

Oh, OK. Anything Con could use
for his collage?

No, nothing.
No, nothing. No.

Well, too late now. I've finished.

I'm just waiting
for the glue to dry.

Jesus wept, Con,
you look like Shakira.

Ha-ha (!)

DOORBELL RINGS

I wonder who that could be.
You could go and find out.

Austin?

Oh, Yvette.

Hello.
You've got some front.

Chancing your arm
when your wife's just feet away?

HE SCOFFS
I said hello.

It's the way you said it.

Yes, the recent stress
has been good to me,

I've lost six pounds,
but try to contain yourself.

HE SIGHS
It's Ursh I've come to see.

HE CLEARS THROAT

Mm, thought you'd get enough of her
at home.

Oh, so there you are.

Were you ever planning on telling me
where you'd gone?

I saw my sisters' cars in the drive.

I wanted to see
what they were plotting.

Oh, you just swerved in, hmm?

Didn't think to call out, "Darling"?
Oh, no, that's not you.

Or, "Mate"...
or just, "Oi, I'm diverting"?

I mean, I was halfway to Hightown
before I saw you were missing.

Huh! Says more about you than her.

Oh, you're not helping.

Knobhead.
I thought you were roadkill.

Well, thank you
for doubting my road awareness.

It's not all about you, you know.

It only takes
some coked-up boy racer

or some demented pensioner
who's had enough of life,

and you're a grotesque patty
of woman, bike and Lululemon!

I was worried, Ursula.

Austin...

..you seriously need to man up.

Ah, look at the state of her face.

It's a shame
our Ciaron couldn't make it.

Read, be bothered.

I'd FaceTime Raymond,
but I think it's banned in China.

Who let her have glue?
She can't be trusted with it.

Like her auntie.
Ooh, shush, shush, shush.

The tissue's stuck to me now.
Oh, come here.

Ah.

Anyway, the time has come.

I'd like to say
there's a new Banksy in our midst,

but I don't wanna
encourage graffiti.

So do you know the names
of other artists?

Rolf Harris.
Not him.

Er, Canaletto.
Isn't that a pasta?

No.
Well, you get the gist.

So, we hereby present

a tribute in collage form
of our dearly missed father,

erm, slash stepfather,
slash grandfather,

slash father-in-law, slash...

WHISPERS: I'll take it.
Er, you all right with this, love?

Yes.
Er...

HE CHUCKLES
So, on the count of three, yeah?

TOGETHER: Three, two, one...

Ta-da!
GREG: What?

YVETTE GASPS
Oh.

POPPY: Boobies.
Oh, Poppy, come on.

GAYNOR: Get her out of here, Greg.

There's, um...
HE CLEARS THROAT

..a sort of abstract
Kurt Schwitters quality to it.

Not abstract enough.
You can see the lot.

NICOLE: From every angle.
It's pure filth.

Oh, God, blimey.
Connor, what the...?

So, this is what you thought
of your poor Grampy?

I didn't put that on there.
Must've been Poppy!

Don't keep holding it up.

Oh, sh...
Er, why is he blaming Poppy?

Where's she gonna get her hands on
stuff like that? We're online only.

In the bin bags we fetched
from the shed.

Dad had a very extensive collection.

Yeah.
God.

Grampy did?
Mm-hm.

Of this?
Mm-hm.

And stuff he nicked from the pub.

You don't have
to keep looking at it.

D'you think Mum knew?
Well, we can hardly check now.

Well, if they had
a readers' wives section,

maybe you could look back
at previous issues...

I picked Grampy as me hero.

Bang goes your worry
he'd be bullied for being twee.

I'm sorry we had to spoil
your memory of him, son.

Well, you didn't have to.
You could've made out

it belonged to you, and let Dad
take his secret to the grave.

Not the grave. Mum's in there.
We're not sure if she knew.

But we were hoping to sneak it out
to the rubbish. Hey.

They had a right to know.
He was their kinky father, too.

Eh, I bet you Reggie would've known
how to get rid of that seagull.

He'd have just swotted it away
with his dirty jazz mags.

Now I'm over the initial shock,
I suppose we have seen a lot worse.

Done it.

And they do say it does you good
to have a hobby.

He's dead. On a brighter note,
we did clear half the shed.

Yeah.
Right, then, no harm done.

Can't go in tomorrow, can I?
No homework. I'll get detention1

Hey, hey, it's all right.
We'll all... pull together.

That's the wrong choice of words.

We'll pool our resources
and make a new one.

Will we?

Maybe not of your grampy though.
Why don't you try Iron Man?

Hey, were you worried
about Poppy seeing all those mags?

No.
We don't wanna give her a complex.

It's only the human body.
I mean, plus a few... gadgets.

I think Dad
was sending us a message.

Yeah, clear your search history.

No. Always find time to relax
and do the things you enjoy.

Is that a reminder you need?

Look, I'm not gonna let that seagull
stress us out.

We just have to accept
that we live here now.

She won, and that's fine.

Yeah,
just till the sale goes through.

Actually, there's an upside to this.

You can crack on
with all the boxing up.

Whole house to be cleared.

Gregory, has your mate Leon
still got that air rifle?

Yeah.

Right.

See you later, Con, lad, you scruff.

Can't believe
I've gotta do it all over again.

It was all stupid Poppy's fault.
All right, come on now.

Your little cousin idolises you.
Since when?

She might not say it...
or show it...

or even feel it.

Listen, was your Uncle Greg right?

Were you hoping that we'd be
so touched that you chose Grampy

that we'd get you
those Comic Con tickets? Mum!

No, cos if you were,
I admire your gumption.

I mean, yes, it was sneaky,
conniving,

but those qualities
will get you far in life.

Might've been... part of it.

Good lad.

Very well, then, son,
you shall go to the Comic Con.

Really?
Yeah.

Oh, and you don't have to worry
about that collage either.

I'll send a note into school saying
you had the splats all weekend.

Sick! Ah, nice one, Mum.
You're me real hero.

Yeah, I know that. Just don't tell
the other lads at school, all right?

Yes! Get in!
All binned.

Who would've thought it of Reggie,
eh?

Although I did wonder why

whenever he said he was off
to prick his seedlings,

he'd always give me a massive wink.

Well, at least Dad stayed randy.

Didn't all peter out into nothing
into his forties.

Is that what you think?

I've just been giving you
space to grieve.

Well, did you not think
I might prefer

to be really cheered up instead?

Right, well,
I'm gonna call our Ciaron...

and bribe him to take Connor
to the flicks tonight. Mm.

WHISPERS: And then I'm gonna dig out
my hi-vis vest.

SHE GIGGLES

Mm.

SHE EXHALES,
DOOR CLOSES

Ah, thank you, Dad...

..you mucky old sod.

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