Maelstrom (1985) s01e01 Episode Script

But why, Oliver, why? Because our billings are down more than twenty percent.
We're looking for savings all round.
It's as simple as that.
So I'm fired? Conditions have made you redundant, it's not quite the same thing.
What's the difference? That cheque I've just given you for a year's salary, and the kind of reference you'll get.
That's the difference.
Still the elbow, isn't it? Cathy, I'm sorry, really I am, but you're not the only one we're having to do this to.
And when things pick up again, well, if you're still available and you want to come back here.
Thanks, and meanwhile? There are other agencies, and you're a bloody good account executive.
Yes I am, but I might not get fixed up for months.
Of course I could always start up on my own.
That would be bad timing just now, I would say.
Not if you kept it small and specialised.
OK, supposing you could get something like that off the ground.
What about capital? Have you thought of the kind of money you would need? Too much, otherwise I would have done it a couple of years ago.
Isten, this isn't the end of the world.
With your track record, everything will come good for you.
Even better than here, I'm certain of that.
Just a little patience, that's all you're going to need.
First off, I think if I were you, I'd take a holiday.
I've just started one, Oliver, haven't I? You know what I mean, get away for a while.
Well, maybe I will.
But more immediately, I've got a better idea.
Oh? What's that? To get well and truly smashed.
Oh.
Your father's name was Richard Stephen Durrell, and you were born in Oslo on the 16th November 1955 to Kirsten Durrell, née Enger? Yes, that's right.
Both your parents are deceased.
Your father died in 1962, and your mother in 1980.
I've brought the certificates with me, as you asked.
Ah, yes.
Thank you, Miss Durrell.
Someone's left me something in their will? You guessed? It wasn't difficult, "Possibly learn something to your advantage.
" I didn't think solicitors said things like that any more, Mr Stoddard.
We've grown no less cautious with the advent of the electronic typewriter, I assure you.
But, you're absolutely right, I'm happy to say.
For many years, we have handled the legal affairs in this country, of a group of Norwegian companies called Jordahl Industries.
Three months ago, Mr Hjalmar Jordahl the chairman and managing director, died, and shortly after his death we received this letter from his lawyer in Alesund.
Where? Oh, I'm so sorry, I assumed, um, there we are.
There it is, on the west coast.
That's where Mr Jordahl lived, and where many of his business interests are based.
Now, according to the letter, among the other beneficiaries in Mr Jordahl's will was a Catherine Elizabeth Durrell, whose last known address was 16 High Bank Road, Guildford.
That was my mother's address, but I left there some years ago.
So I understand, but with that information it wasn't difficult to trace you.
So, what have I inherited, then? A set of spoons? Rather more than that, Miss Durrell.
In fact, it's a very substantial bequest.
Mr Jordahl has left you some property, consisting of two houses and outbuildings standing in, in all, 24 hectares of land, that's about 60 acres, - and a fish processing factory.
- You're not serious? I promise you, solicitors don't joke about things like this.
My warmest congratulations.
You will, of course, have to go to Alesund to finally establish your claim on the estate.
But that will only be a formality.
Meanwhile though, if you have any questions? Just one.
Why did Hjalmar Jordahl mention me in his will at all? I've never heard of him.
Flight number SK-516 from London to Bergen, has now landed.
Cabin R, through there in the Roman passage Thank you, could you tell me Please what time we arrive in Alesund tomorrow morning? A moment, please.
Excuse me, all being well, we shall be in Alesund at about a quarter past twelve.
Oh, thank you.
All being well? I do not think you need have any fear, the weather forecast is good.
Oh, I see, I thought we might not sail on time.
That is unheard of.
The coastal steamers are never late leaving Bergen.
Every night at 11 o'clock precisely.
Thank you.
Oh please, won't you join me? Thank you.
Good morning.
Good morning.
Did you sleep well? Yes, very well.
You're making the round trip to Kirkenes and back, are you? No, I'm only going as far as Alesund.
Ah, is that so? - Coffee, tea? - Coffee, please.
Thank you.
Yes, originally I was going to fly up, but when I was booking my ticket in London, the travel agent told me about this coastal steamer service, and it sounded like a much more interesting way to make the journey.
So, here I am.
For me, unless I'm in a great hurry, which fortunately is seldom the case, this is the only way to travel in this part of Norway.
Are you going far? Like you, only to Alesund.
Oh, really? Is that where you live? Yes, I'm happy to say.
Ah, what's it like? You've not been there before? No, never.
It's only a small town, but it's very beautiful.
But then, of course, I am prejudiced.
Oh forgive me, my name is Albrigsten, Dr Albrigsten.
- Catherine Durrell.
- Yes.
Well, to be honest, knowing you're expected today, from the beginning, as soon as you said you were leaving the ship in Alesund.
I thought then, that that was possibly who you might be.
I'm sorry, I don't understand.
You will I think, when I tell you that I have been doctor to the Jordahl family for a great man years.
And that I am also a close friend, - who enjoys their confidence.
- Oh, I see! And also, since I too received a bequest, I was present when Hjalmar Jordahl's will was read.
Well then, I am very pleased to have met you like this, Doctor.
Because perhaps you could explain to me why a complete stranger, someone I've never laid eyes on, should have left me anything.
- He was unknown to you? - Totally, until two weeks ago.
But your parents, then, they must surely - They're both dead.
- Oh, forgive me please.
And I know that neither of them knew Jordahl either.
I don't really remember my father, but my mother only died four years ago and she certainly never mentioned him to me.
Not even in a passing reference, and yet she was the only possible connection, because she was Norwegian.
- What part of Norway was she? - Oslo.
And what was her name before she married? Enger, Kirsten Enger? Well as far as I know the Jordahls certainly have no blood ties with anyone of THAT name.
Or any other kind of ties.
I telephoned my grandparents in Minnesota.
My grandfather was a chemist in a brewery in Oslo.
He was offered a job in America, so he and my grandmother emigrated there a year or so before I was born.
And they're as mystified as I am.
Because the name Jordahl means nothing whatever to them.
Perhaps some other branch of your family? They're the only relatives I have, the ones there.
Then there can be no question about it.
Cleaarly the legaacy waas meaant for youu, in youur own right.
But you just don't leave a factory and a house with 60 acres of land to someone you've never met or had anything to do with.
No, there has to have been a link of some kind.
When did your father and mother marry? And your mother had been living in Oslo until then, had she? Yes, that's where they were married and where I was born.
And when was that? Three years later, November 1955.
Of course I see what you're getting at, that possibility has crossed my mind too, but I don't believe it.
And it you had met my mother you'd know why.
And what's more, she adored my father.
Again, forgive me.
That I'm certain was an unworthy thought.
Even so, I wouldn't mind betting it's a thought that's in the mind of a good few people right now.
If only there were a more obvious explanation.
Then Hjalmar Jordahl was never the man for the obvious.
Tell me about Jordahl.
He was a good man, but a very private person.
Even I, who was his friend, could not say that I really knew him.
And when his wife died, well, he seemed to draw back even more from those around him.
But then, her death was a terrible blow to him.
Did they have any children? Two daughters, Ingrid and Anna-Marie.
Anna-Marie is the elder by two years.
She will be 28 this year.
- Are they married? - Ingrid is.
You feel you're robbing them of their inheritance, is that it? Well, I am.
Part of it, anyhow.
It is a very small part, I assure you, and they will not miss it.
When he was 26, Hjalmar Jordahl had nothing.
He was the only son of a poor family and he worked for one of the klippfisk factories.
By the time he was 35, though, he owned that factory.
Half of Alesund too.
And that was just the beginning.
Today, the dozen companies which are Jordahl Industry have a turnover each year of many millions of Krone.
Between them, Anna-Marie, Ingrid and her husband Lars Nilsen now own Jordahl Industries.
So you see, my dear, you are robbing no-one.
There are moments when I still find it difficult to accept that he's gone, you know.
But then, he was a remarkable man in every way.
He seemed indestructible.
What was it, then? A heart attack? No, nothing like that.
Hjalmar had the heart rate that a man half his age would have envied and the constitution of a bull elephant in the prime of life.
I can't remember him once being ill.
He was the best kind of patient.
What happened, then? It was an accident.
He took his boat out on the fjord alone, when really ought not to have done.
There was a storm blowing up, he got into difficulties and was washed overboard and drowned.
He is greatly missed.
And not just by his family and friends, by the whole town.
Journey's end, we've arrived.
That is Alesund.
This is who you're waiting for, I think.
Catherine Durrell.
Catherine and I became friends on the trip.
Let me introduce you.
This is Ingrid.
And this is her husband Lars Nilsen.
Hello, welcome to Alesund.
We're very pleased - to meet you.
- How d'you do? The solicitors in London wrote to Bjarne Langva and told him when you were coming.
- Mr Langva is our lawyer.
- Oh yes, I see.
- Can we give you a lift, Arne? - It's such a short distance.
No thank you, the walk will do me good.
Well, goodbye.
I hope we meet again.
So do I, Doctor.
We're giving a small party for Catherine tomorrow night at our house.
You and Liv will come, won't you? Thank you, we'd like to.
Until then, then.
- Adieu.
- Adieu.
Well, shall we go then? You will stay with us I hope? Of course she will.
Where else? For the time being at least, we were counting on it.
Well, that's very kind, but I really wasn't expecting it.
Unless of course you prefer a hotel? No, it's not that, it's just well, I don't want to impose.
Oh believe me, you're not.
It is our pleasure.
After all, in a way you're part of the family, aren't you? Well, you know what I mean.
And from what Bjarne Langva's told us about you, we feel we kn ow you already.
So, you're not a complete stranger as far as we're concerned.
Well, if you're sure.
We would be disappointed if you didn't.
- So please.
- Thank you.
It's surprising how many Norwegians speak such good English.
Oh, it is a second language for most of us.
You have not been to this country before? No.
Well, not since I was a small child, anyhow.
What a lovely room.
I'm pleased that you like it.
I hope you will be comfortable.
I don't think there's any doubt about that.
And may we call you Catherine? - Of course.
- Good.
Well then, Catherine, I will see you later.
I must go back to the office for a while.
You will not be home late, will you? By four at the latest.
Please feel at home here.
You're both very kind.
I will leave you to unpack.
And you would perhaps like to take a shower? Anyway, come down when you're ready.
- Are you hungry? - Not desperately.
I will prepare something light for us, because you will eat well tonight, I think.
- Sounds great.
- Good.
Hello, Catherine.
Oh, hello.
- I'm Anna-Marie Jordahl.
- Hello.
Do you like it? Yes, it's very interesting.
Who painted it? - Ingrid.
- Really? Is she a professional artist? No, just an amateur, but a good one, I think.
Oh yes, very talented.
Is there any more of her work here? Sadly, no.
Two or three years ago, my sister suddenly decided that none of her work was any good.
So she took all of her canvases out into the garden and burnt them.
That one only survived because I threatened never to speak to her again if she didn't keep it.
Which was a good thing, because now she's given up painting.
- Would you like a drink? - Yes, thank you.
- Vodka? Gin? - Vodka and tonic.
Stunning view.
You know, it's strange, but back in England, you never think of Norway without seeing it covered in snow.
But you know better than that, surely.
I understood you were born here, in Oslo? Well only just, and I don't remember it at all.
That's my father.
- What a strong face.
- Yes.
Thank you.
I don't know what I'm doing here.
I've no right to be.
And I can't imagine why you're all being so pleasant.
Why should we be anything else? A total stranger inherits part of your father's estate, I'd resent that if the situation was reversed.
And I can't even offer you any explanation as to why I was in the will.
Yes, I know.
I met Dr Albrigsten in town and he told me.
Well, it's a mystery to us too, but that's what my father wanted.
And as far as my sister, and I, and Lars, are concerned, that's the end of the matter.
Well, it's true you've arrived here as a stranger to us.
It's our hope, believe me, that when you leave, it will be as a friend.
- Thank you.
- What are your plans? Well, to be honest, just now I'm looking for capital.
And I thought that putting the factory on the market might be a good way of raising some.
And the rest of the property? That, I don't know.
Alesund's a fair distance from London.
A bit too far, I think, for a weekend cottage.
Well, whatever you decide.
I hope that once the formalities are completed, you'll stay on for a while? Lunch is ready.
But it is only a cold table, so there's no hurry.
Whenever you feel like it.
- Do you want one of these? - What is it? - Vodka and tonic? - Yes, thank you.
Do you have any children? No.
Lars and I decided to wait a while before starting a family.
First, we wish to enjoy just being together.
And there's plenty of time.
Of course.
I was just admiring your painting.
It's not very good, I'm afraid.
But your sister tells me you don't paint any more? It no longer interests me.
Takk.
- Cheers! - Cheers.
Good luck.
May I never move from this spot.
You wait until you see Jordahlsholmen.
That's where the houses you now own are.
In the morning I'll drive you out there.
But first, I'll show you the klippfisk factory.
Having first explained what klippfisk is, I hope? Sounds faintly disgusting.
It's dried salted cod.
Processing it has been a big industry along these coasts since, oh, as far back as the 1600s.
And the factory you've inherited was the first business my father bought.
It was the foundation stone of the whole Jordahl Industries Group.
And that's where it should have stayed, shouldn't it? In the group? Now, it's only a minor part of Jordahl interests, and it's yours.
To do with as you wish.
Are you sure you can spare the time to drive me around tomorrow? I don't want to be a nuisance.
You're not, it will be my pleasure.
And I think they can manage at work without me for a few hours.
What do you do? I design furniture.
You're sitting on one of my chairs.
- You designed these? - Mmm, do you like them? Yes.
Who do you design for? For myself now.
Since my father died, the factory 's mine.
Hope this is all right for you, eating at home.
Anna-Marie thought that we should take you to a restaurant.
But I felt that, well, on your first evening.
And you were right.
This is much better than going anywhere.
Tomorrow night, we've invited a few of our closest friends here to meet you.
You will like them, I'm sure.
And it will give you a chance to get to know some people.
Norwegians are rather shy and reserved.
With strangers? Even with their nearest and dearest, I sometimes think.
Come on, then! Isn't anyone going to eat? Are you sure this isn't a lot of trouble for you? No, of course it isn't.
I've a genuine excuse to take a day off.
So, you see, you're doing me a favour.
Well, this is it.
A lot of the fish is exported.
Thousands and thousands of kilos every year.
Mr Tunheim has been general manager here for how many years now? - Nine.
And my father thought very highly of him.
Much of the credit for the way the factory has developed lately is due to him.
Oh no, Mr Jordahl was responsible for that, I merely followed instructions.
Of course I have made some suggestions for improvements from time to time.
And Mr Jordahl never interfered with the day-to-day running of the business.
He left that entirely to me.
You'd like to look over the works, I imagine.
Yes, I would.
Thank you.
Makes you wonder if there are any fish left in the sea.
Yes.
Last year, nearly 100 million kilos of salt fish of one type or another was processed in Norway.
I understand that a lot of it is exported.
Yes it is, nearly 60%.
It is sent to Italy, Spain, Portugal, Brazil, Mexico, West Indies, to many countries.
Nearly 50.
So you see the problem here, in this area, we need to increase it, in order to meet the demand.
So, next year I intend to extend the plant.
That is, of course, if you approve.
Well it sounds like a good idea, but the final decision is not up to me, Mr Tunheim.
This isn't my line of business.
If you are thinking of disposing of the factory, Miss Durrell, perhaps you could do me a favour? Yes, if I can.
I'd very much like to buy it myself, but I will, of course, have to consult the bank and negotiate a loan from them to do that.
What amount would be involved? Oh, a great deal, surely.
Yes, I suppose so.
And the island belongs to me too? Yes.
The island and both houses.
And the land behind there and on either side.
It used to be a farm, many years ago though.
That's when it was called Hegra Holman.
Heron island.
There's a lot of them over there.
It's beautiful.
It was from here that my father sailed his boat on the day he was drowned.
Oh, it's lovely.
What is it? - This picture? - It's a portrait of my mother.
My father commissioned it the year they were married.
She was nearly 20 years younger than he was.
Only 33 when she died.
Just a week after my 10th birthday.
You and Ingrid are both so like her.
Some ways, perhaps.
Her name was Freya.
How sad that she should have died so young.
It was her choice.
Didn't Dr Albrigsten tell you? She committed suicide.
My father's personal papers have been removed, of course.
Before they were, out of curiosity I had a look to see if there was any reference to you or your parents.
But there was nothing.
So now this house and everything in it belongs to you.
Not the portrait, you'll want to have that, surely.
No, it was my father's and it belongs here.
And Ingrid and I do not need a painting to remind us of her.
I didn't realise this was your family home.
Please, you mustn't feel like that.
There's no reason for you to.
This was never my home, nor Ingrid's.
Does the island have electricity? Yes, but there's no telephone.
Over there you're almost completely cut off from the outside world.
- Are the keys here? - Yes.
How do you get across? - There's a dinghy.
- Good.
Shall we go, then? You can, of course.
But, forgive me, I'll not come with you.
You see, it was my mother's house, hers alone.
It was a place where she could be entirely on her own, whenever she wanted to be.
And she was living there when I haven't been to the island since.
I don't think anyone in the family has.
Not even my father.
But you go ahead, I'll wait here for you.
Of course not.
- I'm sorry.
- I'm sorry.
Come on.
You must stay till June 23rd, at least.
- What happens then? - It's midsummer eve, and that's a big celebration here in Norway.
Festivities go on all night.
It's great fun! You mustn't miss that.
People take their boats out into the fjord and have picnics on the beach or in the country somewhere, and there's bonfires everywhere, and fireworks! Everyone sings and dances.
And a good many round it all off with a very nasty hangover.
Oh, how sweet of you.
Here's someone you were bound to meet sooner or later.
- Good evening Bjarne.
- Hello Arne, Liv.
- Bjarne.
- Hello Bjarne, how are you? Oh, so much work I cannot tell you.
That's why I'm late.
I'm sorry.
- Oh don't worry.
- Catherine, this is Bjarne Langva.
- Hello.
- Good evening, Miss Durrell.
Very pleased to meet you.
We told you, I think.
Bjarne is the family lawyer.
Yes, of course, I'm sorry.
I should have contacted you, - as soon as I arrived.
- I'm glad you didn't, I haven't had a minute to spare these last few days.
But if you will come to my office tomorrow morning at, say, ten o'clock? We'll settle everything then.
- Would that be convenient? - Yes, that would be fine.
Good.
So, how are you liking Alesund? Thank you.
Here you are.
Thanks.
- Skål.
- Skål.
I here you went out to Jordahlsholmen today? - Yes.
- What did you think - of your property? - Oh, it's a glorious spot! The farm house was lovely.
Did you go across to the island? No, we didn't have time.
What a beautiful woman Freya was.
Oh yes of course, the portrait.
Extremely beautiful.
How sad.
Her to die in the way she did, I mean.
She killed herself, Anna-Marie said.
Yes.
That must have been a terrible time.
Particularly for Anna-Marie and Ingrid.
They were both quite young.
Yes, but it's a difficult thing for anyone to cope with.
Children especially.
It was a great shock for everyone.
What else did Anna-Marie tell you? Nothing.
Just that her mother committed suicide.
Why? She left no note to explain.
But she'd been ill for a long time, so, a fit of depression perhaps, who knows? And as far as Hjalmar was concerned, the question was irrelevant.
He had lost her.
So knowing why she did what she did, would have done nothing to ease the pain with which he lived from then on.
And now he too has gone.
So, let the dead bury their dead.
That's best.
Don't you agree? Who are you? What are you doing here? Ah, you must be the English woman, Catherine Durrell.
Yes, I am.
And you're trespassing.
Possibly.
I wasn't aware you'd already moved in.
I haven't, but that's beside the point.
You're on my property.
My name is Bjornson.
Anders Bjornson.
I'm a journalist for the local newspaper.
Sunnmorsposten.
How did you know who I am? Everyone in Alesund knows you've arrived, I think, and why you've come.
Look, I'm sorry.
If I'd known you were here, I would have asked for permission.
Didn't you see my car? Could be anyone's, and I've said I'm sorry.
What were you looking for in there? I'm following up a theory of mine.
Oh, and what theory is that? I don't believe Hjalmar Jordahl's death was an accident.
I think he was murdered.