All language subtitles for Ripping Yarns - S01xE04

-The old AC is going jolly well.
-Yes darling, it seems to be.

The old trick worked, you see.

We changed the stroke
ratio on the crankshaft.

You get less revs
and more horsepower.

Do your parents live all
on their own out here?

No, they've got a couple of Davenport
257s, bought them cheap during the war.

Had both the engines re-bored,
put in a dual piston screw converter.

Cleaned up an old Lucas 200 distributor
and banged in four carburettors.

-It goes like a rocket.
-It's not any better, is it, darling?

-No.
-I think you ought to give up driving.

I can't give up driving, Dora.
Who'd look after the Talbot?

I mean, the adjustments on those
pistons need oiling twice a week

-and the tappet clearances...
-Oh, stop it, Hugo.

Sorry.

Hugo, you must decide
between the car or me.

All right, I'll take the car.

-Oh!
-I love her, Dora.

I love the way I can get
twice the speed at less revs

by a simple adjustment to
the timing ratio in the engine.

Or by putting the two
coils in the alternator lead...

Stop here, Hugo.

Emergency stop? Oh, jolly good.

Look at that, eh? No locking.

That's using the new
friction liner pads we fitted.

Goodbye, Hugo.

Goodbye, love.

-Hugo?
-Goodbye.

Hugo?

Oh, Hugo.

Hello, Hugo darling.

Hello, Mumsy. How about that?

Darkstones Moor to
here in 41.7 minutes.

That's an average of 56.

-Jolly good old tub.
-Where's Dora?

You know, Ma, that's the first time
we've used that re-bored cylinder

and that new petrol injector
feed I was telling you about.

Where's Dora?

Uh, she got out on
Darkstones Moor.

She got out on Darkstones Moor?

Yes, I think that's what made
all the difference to the average.

You know, I remember once taking
the Morgan out on the Brooklands track

with old Tiny Townsend.

Two of us could only squeeze 50,
and that was with a twin exhaust.

Yes, dear, how interesting. Clive,
Dora's out on Darkstones Moor alone.

-She what?
-Hello, Father.

-I'll kill him.
-Not now, Dada.

He's very bad today.
We'd better call a doctor.

Hey, come and see this new
manifold now I've cleaned it all up.

Call a doctor?

-What he needs is a damn good thrashing.
-Clive, please!

He needs the skin
taken off his back

with a triple-thonged
bamboo-backed leather strip!

That's what he needs.

Remember what the
doctors in London said.

Doctors? What doctors
need is a damn good flogging.

You know what the Ottoman
Turks used to do with loonies?

-He's not a loony, Dada!
-Used to tie 'em to trees.

Beat 'em senseless.

They didn't stand
for any nonsense.

Hugo, come and lie down.
It's been a long journey.

But don't you want to see the remould
on the cylinders? It's a super little job.

Let me just kick him!

Dora was such a nice girl, dear.

She can't have much upstairs if she
spends her time with a loony like Hugo.

I don't think we should
just leave her there, Dada.

Damn good for her if you ask me.

You know what the Malays used to do to find
out if a man was really a warrior or not?

They used to tear out his...

Who's that?

That will be Charles
and Ruth, dear.

That pair, come to ruin me
weekend again, I suppose.

They've come all the way down
from London for your birthday, Clive.

The least you can do
is to be civil to them.

They only come down to
see whether I'm dead or not!

I'll be upstairs
if they want me.

Mr Charles and
Miss Ruth, my lady.

-Charles!
-Hello, Mumsy.

-Hello, Lady Chiddingfold.
-Hello, my dear, I'm so glad you've come.

We've had an awful
time with Hugo, you know.

He left Dora alone
on Darkstones Moor.

Yes, yes. We
passed her in the car.

-How was she?
-Oh, very distraught, not at all well.

Yeah, she only had her
summer frock on, poor girl.

-Where's Father?
-He's in his lair, dear.

Very well, I better
go and say hello.

Would you like a
cup of tea, Ruth dear?

Well, perhaps something a little stronger, I
feel, after that journey, Lady Chiddingfold.

-Coffee?
-No, I meant something a little stronger.

-In the sense of...
-Bovril with two spoonfuls or Marmite?

No, I was thinking of something
more in the line of a whisky.

Bovril and whisky?

No, just the whisky.

Of course, Ruth my dear, I'm so sorry.
I'm in such a damn muddle at the moment.

Ah, Manners, a whisky please.

With Bovril, milady?

No, no, no. Just a
whisky, Manners.

Hello, Father.

Hello, Charles.

Bloody Oscar Wilde.

What did you say, Father?

Bloody Oscar Wilde!

Oh! Oh! Yes, yes. Yes.

And how is the Foreign Office?

Uh, not bad really, we finished
painting the Whitehall side,

and we start on the
west front next week.

Still no chance of a job inside?

No, far too dim.

Yes, I suppose so.

Oh!

No, Manners, whisky
in a whisky glass.

Yes, milady.

The garden's looking
delightful, Lady Chiddingfold.

Oh, yes, they're all over
60, you know. Knowles is 97.

Took him 13 hours to pull
up a weed the other day.

Of course, Clive wants
to have them neutered.

No, I said the gardens.

Ah, your whisky at last.

Shall we join the men upstairs?

-Much better.
-Mmm.

I was saying to Lady Chiddingfold
how fine the grounds were looking.

She certainly has the
green fingers in this family.

The only man with green fingers I
ever knew was Tooler Moran of the KOLI.

He was beating some chappie in
Burma for breathing too regularly.

Not now, Clive.

You know, he was one
of the few men I know

who was squeezed to
death by an anaconda.

All his innards.

Dear, listen to that wind.

Going to be a hell of
a night if you ask me!

Ever fought the Turks?

They were vicious
johnnies! There was this fella,

he was obviously some
sort of commander wallah.

Big chap, boils all
over his forehead.

He orders a whole platoon
to get out their bayonets.

Then he gets them to pull back
their own fingernails one by one!

-And put quicklime...
-Oh!

What's the matter with her?

Oh, it's nothing, Father. She's
just a touch squeamish, that's all.

Squeamish? It wouldn't have
done me any good to be squeamish.

We didn't have any time
for that squeamish nonsense.

When you're fighting next to a
fellow with both his knees hanging off,

you can't afford to
start getting squeamish.

Hello, all. No one told
me I was missing supper.

Hugo... darling.

My God, here comes
the family loony.

Hello, Charles. Hello, Ruthy.

Farther, you know you used to have
one of those barracuda eight cylinders

with an overhead camshaft?

Hugo, don't bother
your father now.

Go back to bed
and have a nice rest.

Well, the other day I was trying to
realign the cylinders on the old AC.

You know, soup it up a bit. And
apparently, the easiest way to do it

with an overhead camshaft
like the one you've got...

-Oh, go away!
-Hugo, to bed, please.

-...is to realign the throttle control.
-Hugo, please, you're not well.

I'm all right, Mumsy.
Don't worry about me.

Of course you're
not all right, you idiot!

Manners, help me take Master
Hugo back upstairs, please.

Yes, milady.

Give him a damn good throttling.

Ah, that's what I mean.
It's all in the throttle.

An extra half yard of cable attached
directly to the carburettor feed,

aligned to the angle of the distributor
head, increase the compression ratio.

And if you readjust
the connecting wire...

What a disaster!

I'd rather have a box of
fish than a son like that.

Looking forward to your
birthday tomorrow, Pater?

No.

The trouble is, Mumsy,
that on the specification

there's a black lead
to the distributor...

Yes, just rest, dear.

Do you think I'll ever
get over it, Mother?

I hope so, dear.

Just keep eating lots of fruit.

Oh, no!

That'll be your father
being murdered.

-What happened?
-Uh, Dada has been murdered.

Oh dear, but how?

I don't know. I
didn't see who did it.

I was over at the wall in the end
seeing if there was a secret door in it.

And suddenly I heard a shot and I came
over here and found that he was dead.

-Oh, perhaps he shot himself.
-Yes, yes, that's probably it.

Well, I can't see
a gun anywhere.

Perhaps he shot himself and
then threw the gun out of the window

to lay suspicion on the
gardeners or something.

He's been shot in the back.

Mumsy, who would
have wanted to kill him?

-We all would, dear, you know that.
-Yes, yes, I suppose so.

-Milady.
-Yes, Manners?

It's Miss Ruth. She is
dead as well, milady.

Oh, not now, Manners, please.

Milady, I just thought
you would like to know.

Yes, I do appreciate it, Manners, but
with my husband just being murdered

and having Hugo in
bed and everything...

-Can we read the will now, Mumsy?
-No, dear.

Look, darling, we must
get it sorted out in here first.

How many people are dead?

-Well, there's Daddy.
-Yes, that's one.

-And poor old Ruthy.
-Yes, that's right, two.

And what about Hugo?

-Hugo's not dead.
-Well, he's not very well, is he, Mumsy?

But I only want to know
who's actually dead, dear.

Perhaps I'd better pop
upstairs and check on Hugo.

-He's awfully quiet.
-All right.

Don't give him a shock, dear.
Don't tell him what's happened.

Oh, no, no, no. I'll
be ever so careful.

-Manners?
-Yes, milady?

Go and check the
gun case immediately.

Yes, milady.

-Oh, and Manners?
-Yes, milady?

Tell Edith we'll only be
three for lunch tomorrow.

Yes, milady.

The telephone, milady.

Yes, thank you, Manners.

Hello?

Hello? Oh, hello, Madge.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh!

Oh, dear, what a
shame. I'm so sorry.

And he's got to have
the whole lot out, has he?

Yes. Well, I'm sure he'll be
better for it. They say that, yes.

Oh, yes! Madge,
can I ring you back?

No, no. It's just that a couple
of people have died and I...

What?

No, one shot. One
drowned, I think.

Yes, it is a shame. Yes.

Yes, Clive was one of
them. Shot in the back.

I'm afraid so.

Oh, yes, it is.

Oh, yes. Well, he was 87!

Look, Madge, I really must...

What?

No, I'm sure it's
better Frank had it out.

Yes, at least he'll be able
to sit down properly again.

Yes, yes.

At the cottage hospital?

Oh, yes they are very
nice. Yes, I'm sure.

Look, Madge, I must
dash, I've heard another...

In a ward of his own? Oh,
yes, that's so much nicer.

Oh, yes, quite.

Look, I must dash, really.

Madge, I think someone
else has been... What?

Yes. Yes, of course I can.

I can give you a
lift. Right, yeah.

Yes, yes, 3:00
outside Lewis's. Bye.

Mumsy, it's just as well
I looked, Hugo is dead.

Hugo is dead?

Yes, I didn't see
who did it again.

I was talking to him one minute
and suddenly I looked under the bed

to see if there was a trap door leading to
a secret passage underneath the house,

and I heard a shot.

And I looked up and
there he was, Hugo,

Dada's eldest son who stood
to inherit everything, dead.

Definitely dead.

Shall I call the police, milady?

It may not be
necessary, Manners.

No, I don't think there's
anything the police can do.

-Waste of the rate-payers money, really.
-Will you leave us for a moment, Manners?

Yes, milady.

-Charles?
-Yes, Mumsy-pie?

I'd rather keep this in the
family, if you don't mind.

Oh, yes, I quite agree.
You don't want any...

So be completely honest with
me. Did you kill them, Charles?

No, of course I didn't, Mumsy!

You killed Aunt Mabel, dear.

That was ages ago.

What was that?

Oh, dear, who on earth can
that be? It's half-past twelve.

Jehovah's Witnesses?

-Oh!
-Dora!

Charles?

Charles, dear, have
you been murdered?

Uh, no, Mumsy.

Just cleaning one of Pater's
old 12 bores and it went off.

Oh dear, it gave me quite a shock.
Thank God it didn't hit anyone.

Uh... Well, it did hit
someone, Mumsy.

-Who, dear?
-Uh, Hugo.

But Hugo is dead already, dear.

Yes, yes. That
was the lucky thing.

Oh, well, do take care, dear.

If I were you, I
should put them away!

Who, Manners and Dora?

No, the guns, dear.

Oh!

Frightened of the
police, eh, Mumsy?

No, of course not, dear, I just don't want
anyone else to be murdered, that's all.

Who, uh...

Who were you ringing
up this morning, Mumsy?

If you must know, I was
phoning up Dr Farson.

Who is Dr Farson?

Dr Farson is a very clever
doctor from Inverness.

And he happens to be
an old friend of your father.

He's agreed to see Dora

and perhaps help find out who
killed your father and poor Hugo.

Oh, Mumsy, it doesn't
matter who did it.

The fact is they're both
dead, Hugo definitely.

I think we ought to open the will and see
how much money and land we're all getting,

so I can go back to
London on Monday.

I know how busy you
are, Charles, darling.

But I can't actually let all these
murders go by without doing something.

Dr Farson is very clever man and,
what's more, he'll be discreet about it.

Now please go and put
some things on, dear.

Well, he'll only say they've been
murdered, and you know what that means.

Well, let's see, dear. We
may find it isn't murder.

They might have fallen
on the bullets or something.

No, I know. They'll all look at
me as though I murdered them.

Just like they did
with Aunt Mabel.

Well, you did murder
Aunt Mabel, dear.

There you go, Mumsy. Even
you're holding it against me.

I'm not holding it
against you, dear.

Now please go and get ready.

I'm coming in as soon as I
finish this dreadful weeding.

I think we ought to bury them in the
garden and get on and read the will.

We can't just do that sort of thing, dear.
You need coroners and funerals and things.

-Why? Why do you need funerals?
-People like funerals, dear.

-We didn't have a funeral for Aunt Mabel.
-We all know why that was, dear.

Why? Why did we not have
a funeral for Aunt Mabel?

-We couldn't find her, dear.
-We found most of her.

Now, Charles, please, I'm not going to
have to speak to you again, please, really.

-I'm going to open the will.
-You can't do that, Charles, dear.

-Why not?
-It's in London at the solicitor's.

-All right, I'll give them a ring.
-Oh, you...

You're worse than your father.

Charles, dear, when I write to the
Telegraph, do you think I should say

"passed peacefully away"
or just "passed away"?

"Shot away"?

"Suddenly", perhaps
that's better. Yes.

"Chiddingfold, Sir Clive,
suddenly at Moorstones Manor,

"on February the 19th, aged 87."

That's rather beautiful,
isn't it? Nice and simple.

"Suddenly shot clean through
the head at Moorstones Manor"?

Charles dear, it's four
pounds a line now, you know.

I rang the solicitors
this morning, Mumsy.

Did you know Hugo has
left all his money to Dora?

How about "suddenly
in the night"?

He left her £14,000
and 17 cars, Mumsy.

Poor Dora.

Yes, perhaps I better
pop up and see her.

Charles, dear, you will
be careful, she is in shock.

Yes, I'm only going to pop up
and see if she's any worse, that's all.

-Charles?
-Yes, Mumsy?

What's that?

Oh! Um, just cleaning it, Mumsy.

I thought I'd finish cleaning it
while I was chatting to Dora.

Well, don't point
it at her, darling.

Oh, no, Mumsy. I
know not to do that.

"Very suddenly in the night."

-All right, Manners?
-Yes, milady.

Dr Farson.

I'm Lady Chiddingfold.

Welcome to Moorstones Manor.

Your husband told
me so much about you.

It really is most kind of you, Dr Farson,
to come all this way from Inverness.

Madam, had I realised how
beautiful my hostess was to be,

I would have crossed the seven
seas themselves to get here.

I'd have fought wild beasts
and flown through time itself...

Charles!

Sorry!

That's Charles, I'm afraid.
He has a thing about doctors.

Oh, yes.

Hello, Charles. Your father
and I were in the army together.

Sorry, just cleaning it. Fragment of
bullet got stuck at the end of the barrel.

Dear, is your
shoulder all right?

Don't worry about me.

It is as nothing compared
to the pain I feel in my heart.

Can we go upstairs
to an empty bedroom?

I love you. I can't
wait. I've got everything.

Oh, this is my son Charles.
He's the one who's not dead.

I was saying what a very beautiful,
beautiful woman your mother is.

Uh, Charles, will you take Dr
Farson up to Dora's room, please?

-Dora?
-Yes, my son's fiancée.

She was lost on the moor.

She arrived in a
hysterical state last night.

I don't think there is much the doctor
can do, Mumsy. She's slipping away fast.

In fact, she's
probably dead by now.

-I think she's got pneumonia or cholera.
-Off you go.

I will be back.

Yes, when you finish, there
are some other people to see.

How was she?

She is in a state of severe
shock, Lady Chiddingfold.

But I think she'll recover.

She had some traumatic
experience last night

which she still finds
difficult to describe.

Is there anything you can do?

Well, I rubbed some
Vick on her chest.

-Did that help?
-Yes.

Yes, it did. Thank you.

Now, if we just go in here...

This is my eldest son, Hugo.

Oh...

Oh, I see he's been
shot quite recently.

He was shot last night
and then again this morning.

-Oh, I see.
-By mistake.

Now, he's dead,
isn't he, Doctor?

-I mean, he's not going to recover, is he?
-Oh, Charles.

No, no, no. He's
quite severely dead.

I think I'll go
and sit with Dora.

Why don't you stay
with us, Charles dear?

No, I think someone ought
to be with her, Mumsy.

During her last hours.

And over here is my husband.

-He's dead.
-Yes.

-Shot.
-But can you, for instance, say where from?

-I know what you're thinking.
-What?

You're thinking
I have a false lip.

-No, I wasn't.
-What's wrong with a false lip?

People have false
arms, false legs.

Absolutely nothing, I'm sure.

All right, I do have a false
lip. It's obvious, isn't it?

-That's what you're thinking.
-It isn't obvious, Dr Farson.

Of course it's obvious!

Juts out when the mouth's closed. It
doesn't fit cleanly under the other one.

And it can't withstand hot soup.

Oh!

Oh, I was a fool.

I thought I'd take
the cheap one.

For an extra £200 I
could have had a new lip.

Honestly, Dr Farson, I really
don't know which lip it is that's false.

To think that our love
should end like this.

I think you're rather over-dramatising
the situation, Dr Farson.

I haven't seen you for 12 years.

Ah, but I have seen
you, Lady Chiddingfold.

I have passed this
house many times before.

I have seen you at the
window and in the garden.

My heart has been
bewitched by you.

-Oh, Lady Chiddingfold.
-Oh, my husband.

-Forget your husband.
-You're supposed to be examining him.

There's no point.
I know he's dead.

He died with a bullet lodged in between
the sternum and the cryovascular nerve,

fired from this gun.

Dr Farson, you?

How do you think I got here
so quickly from Inverness?

Because I've been watching
this house for weeks.

Waiting, waiting! Just so as to make
you mine by destroying all around you.

Mine and mine alone.
Just you and me.

And then... And then this...

bloody cheap lip lets me down.

I love you. I've
always loved you.

Since that black day you
married him instead of me.

Dr Farson, I can't
bear being touched!

Lady Chiddingfold, if you reject
me, no one else shall have you.

All right, you, drop that gun.

-Oh, Manners, thank God you...
-Stay where you are, milady.

Or you'll get what I
gave your husband.

-Manners?
-Yes.

Manners, milady.

Your polite, humble,
obsequious little lap dog, Manners.

Manners, who opens doors

and tells his master and his
mistress when the telephone rings.

Well, that's why I decided it
was time someone waited on me,

someone listened
to me for a change.

And that's why I killed him.

And that's why I
killed Master Hugo.

Because I'd had about
as much as I could take!

Don't believe
him. I killed them.

-No, I killed them!
-I killed them!

I killed them and
I'll prove it to you.

Oh, my God! Charles!
Charles is upstairs with Dora!

He was supposed to be
looking after her. Charles!

Charles, what have you...

Dora?

It's all right, Lady
Chiddingfold.

I can look after myself.

I looked after Hugo after all.

Oh, not you, Dora.

Does it surprise you that
your idiot son's fiancée

wasn't the demure little
girl you wanted her to be?

She's lying.

-I killed them.
-I killed them!

I'm up to here with cars and
carburettors and camshafts.

I've borne it for six years.

I walked back here 40
miles, Lady Chiddingfold,

took a gun from the gun case while
you were all stuffing your fat faces,

listening to that pig
of a husband of yours.

And I got rid of them!
I got rid of them both!

-Forever.
-No, you didn't. I did.

I did.

Don't believe them, my little
rosebud. It was me. Honestly.

It was me.

It was not, you
bastard, it was me.

It was me!

You couldn't have
done it. You're all talk.

I killed Aunt Mabel.
Remember that.

-I killed Aunt Mabel.
-Oh, come off it.

Everyone knows I
killed Aunt Mabel.

Oh, yes, he did kill Aunt Mabel.

They're all lying. I killed them because
I wanted to have you all to myself.

I stood to gain
much more than you!

The entire estate,
money, wealth, fortune!

But I had the classic motive
- brooding resentment.

Festering over a prolonged period, suddenly
erupting in a holocaust of violence.

You couldn't hate
a flea, servant.

Don't say that.

You can answer the door,
you can serve the dinner,

but you couldn't
kill a garden worm.

Oh, no?

Oh!

Well, anyone can do that.

-The telephone.
-Oh, yes, thank you, Manners.

Oh... Hello?

Oh, hello, Madge.

Oh, has he? Oh, good.

Look, Madge, I really
haven't got a moment.

Can I ring you back?

No. No, I didn't know
you were in love with him.

You what? Oh, no,
Madge, you can't have done.

No, Madge, really, four
people have already confessed.

There isn't a...

Madge! Madge!

Oh dear.