All language subtitles for Grantchester S01E01 Episode 1.1.DVDRip.NonHI.en.PBS

Whoo-hoo!

Careful, Sidney!

I don't think so.

Oh, come on, live a little!

Forgive me, Mother.

Amanda!

Amanda?!

It's not funny!

It is funny!

Terrible weather we're having.

Well... Well...

You may kiss me.

Do something for me.

What?

Throw away those shoes.

Train's about to depart!

I'll just pop down to
Saville Row, shall I,

and have some new ones handmade?

See you next Friday.

What would Mrs. Maguire say?

"What the Dickens?"
"What the Dickens!"

Mr. Chambers?

Sorry, Mr. Brant, can't stop.

What the Dickens?

You know who I blame?

Sidney Becket.

It's Bechet, Mrs. Maguire.

Bechet.

So inconsiderate.

I won't have it.

They've got a point.

A man who takes his own
life is going straight to hell.

Life is a glorious gift.

One that should not
be discarded lightly.

But for some, the trials of
life can be a terrible burden.

No one can truly understand
the depth of another's suffering.

"Verily I say unto you,
all sins shall be forgiven

unto the sons of men."

All sins shall be forgiven.

Mrs. Staunton.

Thank you, Mr. Chambers.

Thank you so very much.

Such kind words.

Barely recognize
the old bastard.

Sorry, darling.

She's German, you know.

This German officer...

"I will only surrender
to a superior officer."

Was there one
anywhere to be seen?

Course there bloody wasn't.

Annabel, do sit down, please.

So Stephen... bearing in mind
he's the same rank as me...

Pamela Morton.

Stephen was my
husband's business partner.

Sidney Chambers.

I know who you are.

You looked rather forlorn,
standing over here on your own.

No one knows what to say
to a clergyman after a funeral.

They can't relax till I've gone.

Perhaps they think
they have to behave

as if they're still in church.

Perhaps I remind
them too much of death.

Is there somewhere we can talk?

Drink?

Thank you.

Not sherry?

I'm not partial to it.

But you're a vicar.

One of my many
clerical failings.

Anything I say is confidential?

You can rely on my
discretion, Mrs. Morton.

I knew that Stephen's
marriage wasn't as happy

as it had once been.

She is German, you know.

Yes.

A few months ago,

I was supposed to be
meeting my husband from work.

He'd forgotten, of course.

Stephen suggested
we go for a drink.

It was the usual
chatter to begin with

but then something changed.

He said we should
run away together.

Begin again.

He said we could go to Nice

and the French Riviera.

Dance on warm summer
evenings under the stars.

We talked.

We planned.

We made love.

I'm sorry, I'm embarrassing you.

No.

No, you're not embarrassing me.

We were going to live

as we had never lived.

Those were the last
words he said to me...

"We will live as we
have never lived."

So you see why I have
come to you, Mr. Chambers?

I'm not sure I do.

Stephen did not kill himself.

When I heard you speak, I
knew that I could trust you.

I can't go to the police.

But you, the human heart,
that's your responsibility, isn't it?

You can ask any question.

Of anyone.

However private.

I'm sorry... I still don't
get your meaning.

I mean murder, Mr. Chambers.

Need a girl?

Not at the moment.

Suit yourself.

Thank you for the kind offer.

Sorry to keep you
waiting, Mr. Chambers.

Inspector Keating.

You behave yourself, Annie.

Piss off, Geordie.

Sorry about that.

I've heard far
worse, believe me.

Bugger yourself
sideways, Geordie!

Murder?

Yes, Inspector.

You have a source?

An anonymous source.

Anonymous.

Of course.

Look,

I've got two ongoing
fraud investigations,

a spate of burglaries.

I've got a black market
fellow selling dodgy mutton

that gives his customers
the terrible runs.

As far as I'm concerned,
the case is as clear as crystal.

Sometimes things can be
rather too clear, don't you think?

No, not really.

Oh.

Oh?

He drank.

That's what the
Irish do, of course,

but he was in debt
up to his eyeballs.

Took from his firm.

He was on the verge
of being discovered,

so he stays on in the office,
sets about a decanter of whisky,

and he blows his brains out.

Did he leave a note?

Yes.

There was a note.

Oh, well, may I see it?

No, you may not!

Why don't you go back to
church and pray for the wicked.

It's murky waters you're
sticking your toe into,

Mr. Chambers.

I'd steer well
clear if I were you.

♪♪

Mrs. Staunton.

What game were you
playing, going round in circles?

Oh, uh...

I just...

I came to see how
you're getting along.

My husband gave that to me.

We met in Berlin after the war.

He said he'd take
me to Carrickfergus.

That we'd live by the sea
and walk by the shores

of Lough Neagh.

He said a lot of things.

And I used to
believe all of them.

Do you believe your
husband was depressed?

He was from Ulster.

I've known a few Ulstermen;
not all of them are depressed.

Yes, but sometimes
the alcohol and...

Of course.

Jameson's.

That's all he drank.

In the end, like water.

I think what you're asking
is did it come as a shock,

him taking his life?

At first.

But when you've lost
most of your family in war,

then things don't
shock for long.

Did you fight, Mr. Chambers?

I did.

Then I think you understand.

You're always welcome in my
congregation, Mrs. Staunton.

I'm afraid I'm
returning to Berlin.

There's no money so...

Your husband left no will?

Not that I know of.

Perhaps it's at his office.

I could inquire on your behalf.

You took his funeral
when no one else would.

You've done enough.

You've been busy,

I imagine, Miss Morrison?

My job is half what it was.

Less than half, if I'm honest.

Mr. Staunton
needed looking after?

He was not the most
methodical of people.

He was a horror to keep tabs on.

A horror to work for.

I miss him terribly.

So you wouldn't know

whom he met on the day he died?

For example.

He had a few meetings.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

There was an argument.

There were arguments
most days near the end.

Say that again,
you son of a bitch!

Go home, Miss Morrison.

Please go home.

The next morning
when I came in...

There he was.

Make an appointment
with the Midland.

It's a bloody mess.

Mr. Chambers is just inquiring

after Mr. Staunton's will.

On behalf of his wife.

He didn't have a will.

That's odd, isn't it?

We lawyers are
a bit like doctors.

Neglect our own lives
because we think we're immortal.

Sherry?

Uh... whisky, perhaps?

I had you down as a sherry man.

Most people do.

That's Mr. Staunton's.

Hardly be needing
it now, will he?

Stephen drank far too much.

Most of us did, of course.

Came home,
reached for the bottle.

We were all living
under the shadow of it.

Thank you.

Still are if we're honest.

You were a padre, I imagine.

I fought, Mr. Morton.

With the Scots Guards.

Good for you.

So I understand he was
siphoning money from the firm.

What could that possibly
have to do with the clergy?

Mrs. Staunton is
penniless. She'll be all right.

The wife gets the
money, will or no will.

We fought side by side.

I trusted him like no other.

By the end,

it's a sorry thing to say,

but it would've been
better for all of us

if he had died a hero
in some field in Italy.

So... there's no will?

Wasted journey, I'm afraid.

It wasn't the right whisky.

The whisky in the
decanter on Staunton's desk.

His wife specifically told
me he only drank Jameson's,

which, as you probably know,
has a distinctive nutty flavor.

The whisky in the decanter
was of a cheaper variety.

Which leads you to conclude...

That it was placed on his desk

to give the illusion
of Dutch courage.

Which leads you to conclude...

That there was a third
party there at his death.

Which leads you to conclude...

That he was murdered, Inspector.

Because it wasn't
the right whisky?

Because it wasn't
the right whisky.

You told me to steer
clear of murky waters.

Well, sometimes they come to me.

England lost to
Hungary last night, 6-3.

Beaten by a team no
one has ever heard of.

At a game that we invented.

So I was already in a
bad mood, Mr. Chambers.

Go on.

"I can't tell you how sorry I
am that it has come to this.

"I know you will
find this upsetting

"and I wish there was
something I could do

"to make things right.

"I can't go on anymore.

"I'm sorry, so sorry.

"You know how hard it has been

"and how impossible
it is to continue.

Forgive me, S."

It's his handwriting?

All authenticated.

By whom?

By me, Mr. Chambers.

It's suicide.

The coroner says
so, my boss says so,

even the poor bugger himself.

Jameson's or no Jameson's.

Case closed?

Case closed.

I could have you arrested.

Really?

What for?

Wasting police time.

But frankly it was
a nice diversion

after the whole
Hungary debacle so...

I don't watch football.

Generally leads
to disappointment.

Always leads to disappointment.

Backgammon...
Now there's the game.

Backgammon?

Cricket. Bit of rugby.

Good God, man, next
it'll be bloody badminton.

I'm sorry to have troubled you.

Don't be ridiculous,
Mr. Chambers.

Backgammon.

It's the game, Inspector.

It's the game!

I saw it myself.

It was from his hand.

Was there a date on it?

Not that I recall but...

Then it could've been
written at any time.

It could've been
written months ago.

Mrs. Morton, it
was a suicide note.

Do you know he
kept a private diary?

That would tell us
who he met that day.

Mrs. Morton... We
have to find the truth.

I have neglected my
duties long enough.

You didn't give a damn
about your duties yesterday.

Your eyes positively lit up.

Some intrigue to liven
up your humdrum little life.

It was murder...

Mr. Chambers.

I believe it was my husband.

I will remember you in
my prayers, Mrs. Morton.

Sidney!

I wasn't expecting
you till Friday.

Mrs. M said you'd be here.

She was very disapproving.
She's always disapproving.

It's a most unchristian
landscape, apparently.

"What the Dickens?"

"What the Dickens?"

Looking elegant as always.

So I've simplified
my wardrobe...

Lilac in town,
brown in the country.

Makes life so much easier.

Grantchester is
hardly the country.

Sidney, Grantchester
is not Cambridge

and Cambridge is most
certainly not London.

Look at your lovely new shoes!

They're ruined already.

Let's have a picnic.

"Your shoes are ruined,
let's have a picnic"?

How your mind works, Amanda!

No, it's freezing.

How's my sister?

Oh, did I tell you?

She's seeing a jazz man.

No.

My mother will be over
the moon about that.

Yes, it's quite the scandal.

You know you look
just like that Modigliani

we saw at the National.

I don't think so.

My nose is... look,
disappointingly Roman.

It is wonderfully Roman.

Do you know what we should do?

We should run away
together, you and I.

We could go to Nice,
the French Riviera.

We could dance on warm
summer evenings under the stars.

Sorry, I don't know
where that came from.

I... I have some news.

That... that's fantastic.

His name's Guy.

Extraordinarily good
looking, no doubt.

Of course.

Incredibly charming.

Absolutely!

Terribly wealthy.

After several years of
painstaking research,

I've finally got my man.

Well...

Well...

You may kiss me.

I want to meet him.

You will.

Of course, you will.

Come up to London.

I'll wear lilac just for you.

Promise me you're
not lonely, Sidney.

Don't worry about me.

Only you could make cleaning
look like an act of war, Mrs. M.

D'you want to know
what people are saying?

Not particularly.

They're saying you
should get yourself a wife.

Miss Kendall is a friend.

I know that.

Won't catch the likes of
her with the likes of you.

Mrs. Morton again.

That thing she
does with her hair.

Dangerous woman.

Say I'm with the church warden.

Lying lips are an
abomination to the Lord.

I'll say you're
taking Bible study.

What the Dickens?!

God help me.

I was born on the day... the
very day... Queen Victoria died.

And yet you never
remember my birthday.

I always do eventually.

My three brothers died
in the First World War.

My Ronnie disappeared for
no good reason in the second.

I'm forced to do
for other people,

clean their unhygienic
water closets, but this...

this is the worst indignity yet.

We can't have a dog.

We cannot have a dog.

I don't know the
first thing about dogs.

We cannot have a dog!

Just take him back.

Where did he come from?

Black labs are the best
for conversation, I find.

A dog, Amanda?

I can't see you lonely, Sidney.

I'm not lonely.

Well, what are you
going to call him?

What about Brutus?

No, look, be serious now.

It'll need walking...

Feeding.

I wanted to give you something.

I won't be able to see
you as often as I used.

I'm sorry.

You know how hard
it will be for me but...

Darling!

It's impossible.

It's impossible to continue.

I'm so glad you understand.

Hello?

Sidney?

I've been thinking

about the circumstances
of the crime,

the people involved
and the nature of love.

Oh, God...

It wasn't a suicide note.

Dear, dear God.

Listen to the wording.

"I'm sorry that it
has come to this.

"I know you will
find this upsetting

and I wish there was something
I could do to make things right."

A little restrained for a
suicide note, don't you think?

"You know how hard it has been

and how impossible
it is to continue."

He was ending a
relationship, not his life.

Let's just say, for a
minute, that's true.

Who was the letter intended for?

His wife, the German?

Or a...

a lover?

You know something.

People feel they
can tell me things.

You're lucky.

No one feels they
can tell me anything.

Needless to say...
there was an affair.

Case like this, jealous wife,
always suspect number one.

Number two, Pamela Morton.

If it is her, she's playing a
dangerous game, don't you think?

Or a very clever one.

Lover tries to ditch
her, she does him in,

tries to pin the blame on
the hubby she can't stand.

Two birds, one very large stone.

Or it really could
be the husband.

Finds out about his wife
and his army pal and...

Have I won?

Yes, you have.

Well, how about that.

Mrs. Morton said
there was a diary.

His personal diary.

Maybe that could
tell us something.

People talk to you, you say.

Tell you things?

Rather too much sometimes.

Hmm.

I was just thinking about you.

Sly old dog.

I'm sorry for last time.

I was in a dream
when you came round.

I didn't think you
were in a dream.

Sometimes when I'm
sad, my English disappears.

Möchten Sie Tango tanzen?

Ja, sehr gerne.

I'd very much would
like to dance the tango.

Sie sprechen Deutsch?

Ein bisschen.

Very badly, I'm afraid.

Nein, gar nicht.

Not at all.

I believe the police returned
your husband's effects.

"Effects," yeah.

I didn't know that word before.

I haven't brought myself
to look through them.

Well, we... we could
do it together, perhaps.

If you'd wish.

I'd like that.

Sometimes I think
he could come back

and I should leave
the house as he left it.

He would go out late.

Go for a walk.

I think he preferred the nights

where there was no
one to trouble him.

Sometimes I think
that's where he's been.

Just for a walk.

I should've been a better wife.

Why would you say that?

You have a very kind face.

I just broke the
eighth commandment.

Hmm?

Which one's that?

The one about the ox?

You beauty.

Germans.

Absolutely no sense of decorum.

She said I had a
kind face, that's all.

Still... she's attractive.

For a Kraut.

Don't you think?

Meetings...

birthdays, train times.

That's it.

Nothing!

You didn't answer the question.

I'm aware of that.

Well, Sidney, this is
what we in the force call

a bloody bugger of a dead end.

Oh, no.

Ah!

Talks about you
non-stop, you know.

Geordie!

It's that vicar of yours.

Sidney.

Take a look at this.

You're worse than the children.

No more splashing.

Go on! Oh!

Have you got the diary?

You must know we need
more to go on than this.

Oi!

What did your mam say?

I mean, take your Jesus.

He didn't settle for one
or two miracles, did he?

He went on until
people believed him.

Until there was proof.

I think we are quite a
long way from Jesus.

I think you might be right.

What?

I know who did it.

I know who killed him.

Don't trouble
yourself, it'll work.

What if it doesn't?

Then I'll remind you
that it was your plan.

And a dicey one at that.

You ready?

Mr. Chambers.

So, still no sign of the will?

You're beginning
to test my patience.

Oh, if I'm being
an inconvenience...

No, not at all.

It's just that we don't
usually have much call

for clergymen in the office.

And in the church we don't
have much call for solicitors.

Which I suppose is
something to be grateful for.

It was your wife I was
hoping to speak to actually.

On Mrs. Staunton's
behalf, of course.

Do you know where I
might be able to find her?

Why would you possibly
need to speak to my wife?

It was she who
asked to speak to me.

She has Mr. Staunton's diary.

Apparently it contains
some new information.

What new information?

She believes he was murdered.

The man put a bullet
through his head.

She thinks otherwise.

She travels to London Friday.

The 10:17.

The same train Mr. Staunton
used to get to his meetings?

That-that's right, isn't it?

That's my wife
you're talking about.

I'm sure there was
nothing untoward.

I'll speak to her on her return.

Thank you for your time.

It was your fault, you bitch!

He was mine.

You meant nothing to him.

He was mine!

He loved me!

He loved me!

He loved me!

You told her?

About Stephen and me?

I let her make an assumption.

You betrayed my confidence.

They were having an affair.

AM and PM.

Not morning and
afternoon, but initials.

Annabel Morrison and...

Pamela Morton.

Used to being invisible,
she hardly dared believe it.

You were right, it
wasn't a suicide note.

He was ending an affair.

Morning.

A drinker, a gambler,
depressed after the war.

All she had to do
was set the scene.

Recreate the suicide so vividly

even the police
would fail to question it.

A half-drunk decanter of
whisky, a hastily written note.

Somebody please help!

Please help me!

Somebody please help me.

He said he loved me.

No one has ever
said they love me.

Will she hang?

I'm not in favor
of another death.

Neither am I.

You lied to me, I think.

At Stephen's funeral

you said you believed
that he would go to heaven.

I believe that life is sacred.

And only God can take it away?

I'm afraid so.

And if there is no God?

Well... I can't think that.

As a priest, it
would be a bad idea.

Very bad indeed.

I... I can't take it.

Perhaps in return you could
give me back the diary you stole.

You knew about that.

You are not a natural
sinner, Mr. Chambers.

I'm... I'm very
glad you think so.

We cannot erase our pasts.

However hard we try.

Instead we must carry
them with us into the future.

We must carry them with us
and look forward with hope.

We must look forward

because to look back is
to waste precious time.

Someone recently said to me,

"We should live as
we have never lived."

And we must all of us take heed

and live as we have never lived.

For we are all mortal.

We are all fragile.

And we all live under
the shadow of death.

What the...

Dickens!

How'd he have the energy?

That's what I want to know.

The energy for what?

Staunton.

Carrying on with
two, you know...

Lovers?

Exactly.

And a wife as well.

God knows it's hard enough

when you've been
married for a bit.

You should be glad.

Glad I'm not married?

I don't know about that.

Make the most of it, Sidney.

I'll try, Geordie.

Here's one for you.

Found a body
outside the Five Bells.

Battered to death.

Ah, hang on.

Hang on, is this gonna
involve murky waters?

You like murky waters.

I don't know.

Perhaps I should
get back to church.

Pray for the wicked.

Give over, I'll buy you a pint.

You'll buy me a whisky.

Backgammon?

You're obsessed.

It's the game, Sidney.

It's the game!

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