Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells Exclusive for http://UKsubtitles.ru
Everything just feels so empty.
Like a great melon that's been hollowed out.
With nothing in it, a very disappointing melon.
Just the knowledge that she's not going to pop round or ring.
We won't catch a glimpse of her unloading her big shop.
Remember when we helped her with the big shop and she invited us in for tea as a thank you?
Do I remember?! I still have the Viscount biscuit wrapper in my box of precious things.
Spa break, I can't believe she'd put us second to a spa break.
Just because her friend Lucy says it's a good place to meet people.
People?! What's not people about us?
She can meet us any time she likes down the post office.
She doesn't want to meet us, Tom.
She wants to meet some rugby man or an ageing tycoon in a shortie dressing-gown
sitting round a pool eating grapefruit making mega deals on his Smartphone.
Pillock!
God, I hate that guy.
Maybe we need to do cold chicken, Tom.
Maybe, maybe, old friend.
I mean, cold turkey.
Kick the Sally-habit.
Yes, indeed. What did you think I meant when I said cold chicken?
I had no idea.
A lot of the time I don't know what you're on about.
But I don't like to hurt your feelings.
What I do mean is I think we've become a bit Sally-holic.
We need to branch out in a new direction, we can do things together.
Man things.
Kung fu, perhaps. I bet there are seniors' evening classes in kung fu.
Men beating the hell out of one another, you can't get more manly than that.
Or construction, building.
You are not really a man until you've built a wall with your bare hands, are you?
We could learn how to build a wall in one class and then how to kick it down again with kung fu.
Or metal, we could make loads of things out of metal.
Just us and our machine tools, no more women.
We could build another man out of metal.
I wouldn't mind a bit of brick laying.
Churchill used to build walls for relaxation.
Exactly. Shall I sign us up then?
Yeah, let's do it, Tom.
Hello, Beckenham Adult College?
You were a long time on the phone.
Did they stick you on hold?
I was just laughing with Jo.
Jo? The admissions administrator.
God, she is fun.
We are going out tomorrow.
You are going out with a woman from the telephone?!
She's great.
You probably heard me laughing.
Yeah, it was a pretend laugh.
I thought you were choking.
It was real laughing.
What - ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
No one is THAT funny.
Jo is. She's very funny.
Joanna.
Yeah, I just feel she gets me.
In a way that you never really have.
She may have a nice voice, but what if you meet her and she's... You know.
I've planned for that, I would do what any gentleman would do.
I'll tell her I'm a top criminal psychologist, say I've got a call and then run away.
I call it the Cracker.
♪ Ba da da dum, ba da da dum
♪ Ba da da dum
♪ When the night has come
♪ And the land is dark
♪ And the moon is the only light we'll see
♪ No, I won't... ♪
You'll be all right, won't you, Roy, when I'm out on my hot date?
You know what, I'm going to be absolutely fine. Don't be like that.
We'll do some man-stuff later.
I've got a friend who can get as a lathe.
Honestly, the world is your oyster when you've got a lathe.
I won't be needing a lathe when Fulham are on.
I've got ice-cold lager, a red hot curry and a lukewarm foot spa.
Oh, rats! Has she cancelled? No, it's Amber.
She wants me to go round and fix her mini dish in time for the match.
Well, call your date and reschedule.
I can't, we never swapped numbers.
That's a key plank of my Unattractiveness Protection Plan.
Dear, oh, dear, oh, dear! What am I going to do?
Can't Amber ask the boyfriend to fix it?
You don't understand, it's not about the mini dish. She's testing me.
Over the years I haven't necessarily,
and this may come as something of a shock to you, Roy, but I haven't always been the best of fathers.
Really? But I've always provided TV, even in the caravan at Bridgnorth.
I'd hang an arm out the window in rain,
sleet and snow so she could watch T4 when she came for the weekend.
You'd better make up your mind because they kick off in 10 minutes.
Bloody hell!
Why am I a decent, caring human being, Roy?
Um, Roy...?
You know how we are such good pals and everything
and we are so close and always help each other out in jams?
No.
Exactly.
So do you think you could maybe go and meet Joanna for me and tell her what happened and why I'll be late?
I've just added eucalyptus oil.
Please! Mate, mate!
Please!
Ohh!
Brilliant, just keep her bubbling and I'll be there in no time.
Unless... Actually, if she is a right old minger...
save me the hassle and text me a code word.
Boot... or minger.
If she's borderline, text me a photo.
What am I going to say to the woman while I'm taking the photo?
Just say you took it by mistake cos you are an old codger
who is losing his marbles and who can't work his phone.
Trust me, she will buy it.
Two bottles of export lager to take away, please, Rajan.
Shall I just pop the number for Alcoholics Anonymous into the bag as well, Roy?
I'm kidding!
You don't drink to excess.
Not unless you use the Government's recommended figures.
Thank you, Rajan.
Joanna?
Tom? No, I'm Roy, I'm a friend of Tom's.
Tom the criminal psychologist.
The criminal psychologist, yes.
Look, it's a bit odd, but Tom, the silly idiot, has got himself tied up
and has sent me down as a kind of B-movie before the main feature, so to speak.
Right, please.
Well, everyone knows the starter is very often more delicious than the main course.
So, do you do something fascinating, too, Roy?
No, I'm just a silly old writer and intellectual.
That's wonderful! What do you write?
Oh, poems, plays, novels, you name it,
anything the Nobel committee seems to be interested in at the time.
Joanna, have you ever done this before, met someone from the phone?
Well, I have got into the habit of meeting people, but no, not usually like this.
No, since my divorce, I've just found that people are fun so why not join the party!
I'm divorced myself. Oh, I'm sorry.
Was it a difficult marriage?
I don't quite know how to describe it.
Have you ever been to the London Dungeon?
No. It sounds as if it might be fun,
but in actual fact, it's a group of people who've had their spirits crushed
enacting a series of macabre tortures on one another for reasons
they can only dimly recall.
Right. But we had a couple of nice canal holidays.
Hello, hello, hello.
I'm here. Sorry, I'm late.
Oh, hi... Tom?
Joanna. Even more lovely in person,
if I'm allowed to say that without getting sent a letter by health and safety.
Cheers, Roy. Thanks so much, mate.
No, we've just been chatting about Roy's life, Tom.
Oh, I am sorry.
I'm here now. No, it was fun.
That's what I always say.
Anyway, Roy, I expect you are wanting to be getting back for the second half of the match.
I heard the score in the taxi.
I don't want to spoil it for you, but I have to say, I've never heard a score like that before.
It's a really strange and exciting score.
Oh, Tom, why don't you sit down?
It would be a shame to bust up the gang.
Of course, I'd love to sit here for ages and chat about whatever it is
Roy used to do for a living, but I've actually booked a table for two
at a rather amazing restaurant so I'm afraid we're going to have to leave him here to talk to himself.
Which, luckily, he loves to do.
Well, it worked out in the end, didn't it?
I suppose so, brilliant.
I just need to pop to the ladies.
This is a disaster.
Why did you have to muscle your way into my date?
I couldn't help it.
We hit it off and you were an hour later than you said you'd be.
Yes, but she's MY date! Tom, she's constantly meeting people,
she's like some social maniac.
It was just luck she spoke to you on the telephone, she'd have probably
got round to me sooner or later. Oh, sure!
You are not exactly a people person, are you?
You say thank you to the hole-in-the-wall when you take money out.
It's not fair, you are piggy-backing on my incredible social skills.
I can't believe that you actually told her you were a criminal psychologist. Why not?
It makes me sound mysterious.
If she probes I'll just tell her that I got out, it was too heavy,
and then I'll go all quiet and look sad.
They love it when you look sad, it indicates depth.
I don't need to pretend.
I told her all about my writing and she was quite impressed.
Did you tell her you do most of it sitting on a lav?
One of us needs to bow out, Roy.
One man needs to mow and one man needs to go.
As far as I can see, it's first come, first served. Jesus said that.
I don't think he did!
Anyway, I'm claiming her by dint of the fact I arranged this whole date.
By dint?! Yes, by dint.
Tom, we are here together whether we like it or not.
I don't like it.
But if we fight, we'll both lose out.
Women don't like men who compete over them, they prefer men who collaborate.
Like Marshal Petain?!
Not with Nazis, with one another.
Like firemen or tennis partners - McEnroe and Fleming.
I'm McEnroe, the greatest tennis player ever.
You are my mate with no face who carries the racquets.
It's weird, you two being in the back. I feel like a cab driver.
It just seemed the best solution as we both wanted to sit up front.
So, here we are. Yes, indeed.
Here we are. So, um...
So...
how would you like to come in for coffee?
I have a 100% Arabica roast I'd like to introduce you to.
Roy's coffee is amazing.
Pish tosh, Tom. You are the true maestro of the bean, my friend.
No, no, no, you truly are the bean master.
He grinds them with a pestle and mortar.
It's really the only way to extract the flavour.
It sounds extraordinary.
It sounds extraordinary, and it tastes extra-extraordinary.
I'm the grinder, but Tom is il duce de cappucino.
He does it manually, through a straw.
100% organic air makes all the difference.
Right, here we go, over the top.
Tom, hang on. Just some rules of engagement.
Number one - no running the other person down to make yourself look good.
Right, that can backfire anyway.
I tried that in the speech at my wife's funeral.
Yes, I remember.
And rule number two - no sitting next to her, no physical contact. Check.
That's easy for me, because we had the same rule in my marriage.
This, Joanna, is going to blow your head off.
It's the coffee equivalent of '60s acid,
the kind that made that Pink Floyd bloke live with his mum for 30 years.
Mmm.
Oh, it's wonderfully...
crunchy.
Roy, sit here if you want to.
No thanks, Joanna, I'll be happy here.
Oh, OK. Yes, there's one thing you should know about Roy, he hates physical contact of any kind.
It's like an allergy.
I'll just get a chair. There's no need, Tom, there's plenty of sofa.
Er, yes, well...
Come on, I insist.
Oh, well, if you insist.
So, where were we?
Weren't we discussing you're fascinating career as a criminal psychologist?
No. Well, I think that we should, Tom, because it has been such a huge part of your life.
They call him 'Slimline Cracker'.
Really?
Yes, not any more.
I got out of that game, I retired.
I saw... maybe too much.
Don't worry, Joanna, he goes like that.
He'll snap out of it as soon as he's remembered where he's put the big scissors.
No, Roy, it's just psychological profiling.
It can make you quite sad and deep. Oh, yes,
It's a pity you had to stop, because you were so good at your psychological profiling, weren't you?
It sounds fascinating.
Oh, he could tell what someone had for breakfast seven years ago just by looking at their coat.
Wow!
Why don't you do a profile of Joanna, Tom?
Oh!
Do you do instant profiles?
Well, I'd love to, but it's difficult, legally-speaking.
He always refuses at first, but if you persist, he'll relent.
Oh, please, Tom, please?
OK, fine, sure.
Well, just by looking at you I can see that you're not much of a criminal.
If you were to commit a crime, it would be more
of a naughty kind of a crime,
like getting tipsy and shoplifting lingerie with Omar Sharif.
Uncanny, isn't he?
Hey, Roy, I've got a great idea, why don't you read us one of your poems?
Oh, yes! I'd love to hear a poem. Yeah, me too.
The thing is, they're all unfinished because they're epics.
Come on, mate, give us a shortie.
Give us one of your brilliant shorties.
Oh, yes, please, a shortie.
Yes. All right, but this is very much a work in progress.
When the night has come...
And the land is dark...
And the moon is the only light we'll see...
No, I won't be afraid.
Just as long as you stand...
stand by ME.
Brilliant.
Very romantic.
Well, thank you. What the heart speaks, I merely listen unto that.
Although it sounded almost familiar.
Yes, I thought that.
That's because, like all good poetry, it gives voice to a feeling that we've all had,
but never expressed.
Oh, yes.
Oh, my goodness! What is it?
It's, er... It's that man. What man?
The man who pushes things through the letter box.
The postman?
No, horrible, disgusting things. What?!
Don't worry, I'll take care of him.
Hi, Roy. Sally.
Why aren't you in the New Forest?
Well, the spa break didn't exactly work out. Oh, right.
So I decided to come home.
I'm feeling rather low, to be honest.
I know it's getting late, but I wouldn't mind a bit of company.
Can I come in? Oh, Sally!
I would love that, but it's difficult.
It's Tom.
He's having one of his episodes. Episodes?
He's drunk six cans of White Lighting
and watching old video tapes of Robin Day hosting Question Time and crying.
Oh, dear. But look, I'll tuck him up in bed and see he's safely strapped down
so he's not a danger to himself and I'll be right over.
OK, well, that would be wonderful, Roy.
I'll bring a good book and some cognac, and I'll put it
in a little barrel round my neck, like a St Bernard of friendship.
Don't worry about the cognac or the little barrel.
But it would be lovely to see a good friend. Just give me a minute.
Excuse me, Tom.
I'm prepared to admit defeat.
Joanna is all yours.
Is this a ploy, Roy? A Roy ploy?
No, the simple truth is I can't compete against your charm.
I mean, you're younger, you're better-looking, you're just the complete package.
Well, that's true, that's all true.
So, though it kills me to admit it, the best man has won.
Congratulations. Aw, poor old Roy!
But don't feel you have got to go upstairs, you can hang around here if you like.
You could be our butler. Hey, you know what I fancy?
Some banoffee pie.
Joanna? Do you like banoffee pie?
Love it. Could be you rustle us up some banoffee pie?
Sorry, Tom, but I think I'll go out for a long, midnight walk.
And I'll read War And Peace under a street lamp
and have a think about things.
Have a good one.
I will, mate. Ho ho ho, I will.
Hello?
Oh, Tom. Sally!
I thought you'd be strapped into bed by now.
Right...
Would you mind telling Roy I've changed my mind, could he bring over the cognac after all?
Thanks, you're a love.
And... how are you?
How's Robin Day?
I think he's... dead.
Get an early night, Tom.
I guarantee things won't look so dark in the morning.
'Count Rostov took the gentlemen into his study
'and showed them his choice collection of Turkish pipes.'
You're a good friend, Roy.
Who needs spas and facial scrubs and paper underpants, when you've got
a good English friend and a good Russian book?
As requested.
Oh, great. Thanks, Tom.
I'll... go and find some glasses.
What the hell do you think you're doing?
She came back early and she wanted company.
And Tom, we're in the middle of a chapter.
Oh, reading to her, of course. What is it, my Black Lace anthology of erotica?
Sally just likes my reading voice.
Oh, sure she does. She wouldn't like it so much if she knew what you had planned.
I've got nothing planned, Tom, except maybe getting the log fire going and lying on the rug if we feel sleepy.
Lying on the rug?! With a your hip?!
You'd never get up again!
Anyway, what have you done with Joanna?
She's watching my VHS of me on the Old Grey Whistle Test.
The one where you can sometimes see me in the background.
You can't see you, Tom.
We've been through this, Roy, you definitely can!
I can't believe you just left her on her own.
Well, I haven't just left her, have I? Why do you think I'm over here?
It was you, it was you all along. What?
Joanna thought I was making a pass at her
so she levelled with me and the truth is she likes you, not me.
Really? Yeah, she freaked out for your pseudo-intellectual vibe.
And she really, really liked your poem.
The best man didn't win.
Congratulations.
Sorry, took me ages to find the brandy glasses.
You can't have brandy in a wine glass.
Next step - coffee mug, at which point, farewell, civilisation.
Well, thanks, Sally, but I'm off now.
And I'm going to take over reading duties, if that's OK.
No, that's, um...
That's fine.
See you, Roy. Yes, see you, Sally.
Take good care of her, Tom.
Is he all right? Oh, he's fine.
The truth is, and I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Roy can't actually read.
Really? It's amazing, but true.
He's totally illiterate, he just makes it up as he goes along.
Are you sure he can't read?
He's always reading. I know, that's what is so very, very pathetic.
He tries and tries, and he just keeps on trying, God bless him.
You know, I've watched this twice now and I still haven't seen him.
Joanna, Tom told me about your conversation.
Yes, I seem to have caused quite a bit of confusion. The thing is...
Don't tell me with words.
Tell me with your lips.
How do you mean? Coy, little mouse!
Let us not tarry while pleasure with her rosy fingertips doth beckon.
'Kh-vos-tikov, a retired petty official
'whom Do-lo-khov
'made use of in his gambling transactions
'with Maria Feo-dor-ovna, set out the samovar.'
And then former Conservative Home Secretary Leon Brittan somersaulted
through the door, shooting the robot penguins with his laser rifle.
Roy? Tom.
Joanna? Gone.
Right.
And engaged to be married.
Yes.
But loves meeting new people.
Now, I thought that was meant to be a euphemism, but no, she actually loves meeting new people.
I know. Freak.
I'm sorry, Roy. Really, I am.
Well, at least we still have Sally.
Lovely Sally, so full of mystique.
Yes, although a little bit of her mystique is currently dribbling down my shoulder.
Don't stop... book...
In the study sat Tomarov in a travelling cloak and Royski in his winter boots.
"You're both a pair of stupid old men", said the Countess,
"who go looking for love in all the wrong places".
"Tomarov and Royski agreed, shot each other, and then themselves.
"The End."
Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells Exclusive for http://UKsubtitles.ru