The Confessions of Frannie Langton (2022) s01e02 Episode Script

Double murder is a hanging
offence, Miss Langton.
I don't know what happened.
You have to try to remember.
You have to think. Frannie!
FRANNIE: I loved her.
I think everyone should be
prescribed a poem a day, don't you?
- She loved me.
- PETTIGREW: You loved her?
And you hated him.
You know, I think we
should speak frankly.
It will assist us both.
We have to fight this,
or them are gon' kill you.
Mi nuh waah to lose you.
You're always trying to save my skin.
You're worth savin'.
I can't prove it wasn't me.
I can't.
Not even to myself.
How can I be sure I didn't do it?
MEG: I don't care what you
said, I told you not to come.
- I need to speak with you.
- Stay away from me.
She hurt me, Sal, and I was so angry.
GLASS BREAKS
Why won't you leave her alone?
Can't you see you've done
nothing but distress her
ever since you came back?
Madame.
This is death.
This is death!
The pair of you always
in some kind of argument.
Not always.
Her Highness has asked for you
to take those up this morning.
It's typical of her.
She must always have
some pet by her side.
First the boy, Laddie, and now you.
I saw you prowling around
up there last night.
I've been to see the master about you.
FRANNIE CHUCKLES
Since I am still here, Mrs Linux,
I assume you didn't get your way.
FRANNIE: I'd had a measure of happiness,
the dancing, the feel of her.
Like a taste I couldn't
get out of my mouth.
- Since then
- Come in.
I had pictured her a thousand times.
And then there she was.
My thoughts made flesh.
Mrs Linux said you'd like topping up.
All right, then. Top me up.
I've been meaning to ask
how you're settling in.
You seem to have found your feet
well enough last night, at least.
Next time, I promise to
keep them more to myself
and less on your toes.
Are the dances so different in Jamaica?
I never danced there.
I could tell.
Oh, please, don't fuss about those!
They'll only slip into chaos again.
Sometimes I think that
is what tethers me here.
Not the gowns, or the jewels,
but the books.
I don't think I could live without them.
If you must, you can tidy
up after I go downstairs.
DOOR CLOSES
Here was another beginning.
The moment I recognised the
feelings she stirred in me.
My whole world that, until then,
had held such horrors in it
peeled itself back to
a place that held only her.
So when Benham sent
for me later that day
- KNOCK ON DOOR
- Come!
I decided to use it to my advantage.
I'd like you to take a look at this.
They're getting it wrong
about me. About Paradise.
My association with Langton.
I need to set the record straight.
You are arguing that the slaves
on your estate are contented
because you allow
them a little religion,
a little education, a little
land of their own to plant?
And you want MY testimony in support?
Yes, the testimony of a former slave.
There is no such thing as a happy slave.
I think we should speak frankly.
Yes.
It wouldn't hurt for those naysayers
to see me flourishing under your roof,
in a position more in-keeping with
that education you arranged for me?
There's only one way to get anything
from a man like George Benham.
You have to let them
think it's their idea.
He wanted to be seen
as a benevolent master.
He was setting out to prove it.
So he made me into a lady's maid.
- KNOCKS ON DOOR
- And the lady was his wife.
Mr Benham has never
recommended anyone to me before
as a lady's maid.
Mind you, I make it a
habit to look any gift horse
that comes from my
husband right in the teeth.
Have you read this?
Rousseau's Confessions?
It's his autobiography.
The story of his own life.
I know what an autobiography is.
I am planning to write my own.
I was thinking you could help me.
Be my scribe, or
Well, more of a secretary, really.
Mrs Linux will not be pleased.
Surely the attraction
of the whole arrangement?
I take it you are saying yes?
I am saying yes.
In France, they say you
only need a few lines
in any honest man's hand
and you can find
something to hang him with.
You must promise not to hang me.
I promise to keep you alive.
I think I remember life in Paris,
but I was very young when we left.
There were many families like
ours that came to London
and very soon we discovered
that you can't eat noble titles.
But Papa, he had brought his violin
and for months, he
earned us a crumb each day
playing on a street
corner in Spitalfields.
When he wasn't too drunk to do so.
Hm
I've not seen that in a long while.
The boy in the portrait?
Once upon a time,
he and I were the two saddest
creatures in this house.
It was after I lost a child.
I lost two in short order
just after we were married,
though I was barely
out of childhood myself.
The week after my loss,
I sent word to Mr Benham
who was visiting his estate in Antigua.
Three months later
he came home with
a little boy in tow.
He was four.
He kept telling us
his name was Olaudah
Olaudah.
but Mr Benham insisted
he be called Laddie.
An English name, not an African one.
I tried to look after him.
To be a friend to him.
SHE GIGGLES
They had done the same to him
as they had been done to me at Paradise.
Except I thought I wanted it.
And I thought that it
was a stroke of luck.
Listen to me, make
sure you mind yourself.
Ya hear me now? Mind yourself.
Not one damn ting more dangerous
than a white woman when she get bored.
Come, pygmy. Come.
So, you are Frances?
It's the name I gave you myself.
Thank you, missus.
SHE GASPS
Oh! You are a little savage.
Am I staying here now?
Yes.
What you and I have in common
is that neither of us
had any say in the matter.
I's happy to be here, missus.
How long am I to stay?
However long it is, it
will be too long in the end.
I was taken from my mother also.
I think we should shut the door.
But you were fortunate in other ways.
Your education.
It's more than most women ever get.
Even free women.
Nothing that happened to
me at Paradise was luck.
When it comes to charting
the course of my life,
the old coach house is the place
where the map would show a
desert full of wild beasts.
Here are lions.
Everyone thinks that bodies
are the only things that suffer.
But it wasn't only bodies
that did Langton's bidding.
This is science, Frances. We're
doing important work in here.
It was minds, also.
"Him not just the devil, you know,"
Phibbah would say.
"You and him the same devil."
I saw things in that coach house
that I can't stop seeing now.
I see them every time I close my eyes.
And worse, I see her.
I see Phibbah, what happened to her.
And it always shakes me awake.
You can't sleep either?
I can never sleep at this limbo hour.
Neither morning nor night.
Nor one thing, nor the other.
Should I freshen up your warming pan?
Mr Benham is fond of saying,
"A dream is a wish the dark
part of your soul makes."
But it was just a dream.
It was just a dream.
Would you like some?
No, thank you.
Why can't you sleep?
I spoke to my husband at dinner.
It seems I have misunderstood him.
I can write, but I may never publish.
I wish I'd never married him.
La but a lady is
not supposed to discuss
her own marriage, of course
only other people's.
I think I will try to sleep now.
Thank you
Frances.
Good night.
That night had opened
something up inside me
that would not stay closed.
And yet, she didn't
say a thing about it.
I forgot to say, we have to pack today.
We're off to Longreach tomorrow.
As if it had not happened at all.
What's in Longreach?
Lord Percy.
Mr Benham's brother, he's
letting him host a shooting party
to gather support for his petition.
He said you may come also.
It will be much better
to have you with me.
They always give me a
maid with cold hands there.
I forget her name.
What shall I pack?
So when he protested his innocence,
but the evidence was
there for everyone to see.
Excuse me, gentlemen, for one moment.
Baby brother! Where the
devil have you been hiding?
- Perce!
- Georgie!
Marguerite, welcome back to Longreach.
Percy.
Georgie, there's some
people I'd like you to meet.
Meg!
Dearest Hep. How have you been?
I'm going to assume you're not
in the least bit interested.
It's been weeks since you
thought to ask me in person.
Isn't this that terribly soggy maid
who was cleaning your
front steps the other day?
Frances Langton.
My very competent new secretary.
Frances, may I present
to you Mr Benham's cousin,
Hephzibah Elliot. Miss Elliot.
Since when do you have a secretary?
Frances has been helping
me with my writings.
She's been frightfully
clever, actually. Fascinating.
You'll never guess who I invited.
- Who?
- You'll see.
- Cousin.
- George.
GEORGE: Our rooms are ready.
Are you ready for my surprise?
I'm intrigued.
I found your little Laddie.
I ran into him a few months ago
at the ice cream parlour
we used to take him to.
Remember?
He's here as my guest.
George and Percy be damned.
No sign of the poor little
wretch in your portrait, is there?
Laddie?
Madame Bebbum.
That was my pet name for her.
You look like you've seen a ghost.
Not happy to see me?
Oh, of course, or course. Yes.
Methinks you protest too much.
Look at you.
My little Laddie!
I go by Olaudah now.
Unless I'm in the ring.
You box?
Oh, can't you tell?
He does so much more than box.
He's simply the cleverest
speaker. So articulate.
Most whites will fall over
themselves being impressed
by anything that comes
from a Black man's mouth
if it's in plain English.
FRANNIE CHORTLES
And this is?
My secretary, Frances Langton.
Mr Cambridge.
Miss Langton.
Your reputation precedes you.
What do you mean by that?
Oh, Mr Benham, look who Hep found.
Wandering in the wilderness.
Laddie.
Well, fancy seeing you here.
Well, I have a craving for Champagne
and blood sport, same as you.
That's quite the quite
the English gentleman.
Laddie is here as my guest.
Still, er still singing
for your supper, young man?
Well, what else is a little
Black page boy good for
after he's all grown up?
Quite. Well, I'm sure
that you can understand
that no man can be
expected to employ a footman
whom his own wife once
cuddled on her lap.
TAP ON GLASS
If you'll excuse us.
PERCY: Er if I may?
Thank you all for coming to Longreach.
Unusually for me, I'm going
to give George the first word.
It's his party,
so I shall hand over to
him to welcome you all.
George?
Gentlemen
ladies.
This is no mean feat, that
we have all assembled here.
Abolitionists, planters,
parliamentarians,
but experience has told me
that any man can put
aside his differences
if the wine is good enough!
SCATTERED LAUGHTER
We must find a way to keep
putting those differences aside.
To answer this emancipation question
in a way which enables
us to repair these rifts
rather than to deepen them.
That avoids the problem of
compensation to planters,
which, as we all know, is
what is holding things up
and that is based upon
a model, my own model,
with which I've had particular success.
I suppose that's what I am?
A model of your success.
LOW MURMURS FROM CROWD
My lords, ladies, and
gentlemen, Mr Olaudah Cambridge.
A free English and, were it not
for the interruption, Laddie,
I would say, gentleman.
SCATTERED CHUCKLES
And I hope that you will all
agree, a wonderful model of success.
RIPPLE OF AGREEMENT FROM CROWD
Such a shock to see him again.
So unexpected.
Perhaps I should find you some brandy?
I shouldn't.
I have to speak with him.
Can you find him and bring him a note?
As you wish.
To think I came out here in
search of peace and quiet.
Madame Benham sent me to give you this.
She couldn't find a footman
to do her dirty work?
You couldn't find a
footman to tend to your gun?
"Please believe, I would be
delighted to know you again.
I believe we have much to atone for,
my husband and I, for
the way you were treated."
Blah-blah-blah.
I suspect she would not be so
delighted to "know me again",
if she knew how much I
despise the pair of them.
Is that all?
Earlier
when you said my
reputation precedes me.
What is it you THINK you know?
I know that last year,
John Langton purchased an
albino boy from Barbados.
It's all over the gossip rags.
George Benham must be finding
it increasingly difficult
to pretend he has no
idea about the things
that have been done in his name.
He never gets his hands dirty,
he left that to other people.
Like Langton
and you.
I don't know what you're taking about.
I want to know what happened to the boy.
Whether he can still be helped.
Whether George Benham
can finally be forced
to face his own sins.
You don't have to
worry about any of that.
It's not your concern.
I suspected it would be useless,
now that you're Benham's new pet.
I'm no-one's pet.
He's parading you around
to save his reputation.
He's not parading me anywhere!
Why else would you be here?
You came here when you
were what, four, five?
You grew up in an English drawing room
with silk cushioning your backside.
The hardest job you had was
being an ornament, a plaything.
You don't know a
thing not a damn thing.
About any of it.
He was no different
from the rest of them.
All anyone wanted to know was
what had happened at Paradise.
I'll tell you what happened
I became Langton's creature.
He was doing experiments
to prove that all a man's
potential is seeded in his skull.
To prove that blacks
were the inferior race.
When he told me I had to help him
I told myself I had no choice.
Excuse me, miss, the
servant's entrance is just a
Which room is John Langton's?
Which room?!
Top of the stairs,
first door on the left.
Why have you come here? Why?
None of your damned business.
Your business is my business.
Do you think because
Benham's wife has seen fit
to appoint you as her lapdog,
you and I are now on equal footing?
Why would he invite you?
HE CHUCKLES
Keep your enemies close, they say.
HE GRUNTS
People are talking about the albino boy.
It's in the papers.
My illegal purchase.
You're a monster.
I never want to lay eyes on you again.
This is no way to treat a dying man.
HE GASPS
You're what?
Dying.
So they tell me.
HE CRIES OU
I should have been the one to kill you.
And I should have done
it LONG before now!
There you are.
I was looking for you.
May I?
You are cross with me.
Please say something.
What we did
We haven't even spoken about it.
You will not speak about
it. It is sending me mad.
I am your mistress, Frances.
It was wrong.
What if
What if I could say I wanted it?
What if you could say
you wanted it, too?
Some things cannot be
brought into the light.
Then let it be done in the dark.
You are a surprise.
I don't want to be a surprise.
Haven't you done it before?
With one of those quality ladies.
You are a quality lady.
WINGS FLUTTER
What was that?
- Did you hear it?
- No.
I should get back.
I'll ask him to invite
you to dinner tonight.
Yes, but you understand, my
husband is not against manumissions,
it's just that he's more of a,
er gradualist than an immediatist.
It's an important work,
and one which I still hope
the scientific community
will come to acknowledge.
Of course, all this
stalling in parliament
is down to commerce and convenience.
The progressives among us
would like to see swifter
action and less chat.
WOMAN: It's absolutely
without question inhumane.
No, no, no, but the picture you paint,
it's so one-sided.
You seem to rely almost
completely, entirely
on testimonies ploughed out
by the abolitionists years ago.
Now I, for one, take my responsibilities
for all the souls on my Antigua
estate very seriously indeed.
Now I wish that you could see the place.
When I visit, there's
feasting and dancing.
It's all of us, we're together.
Though I must admit, the heat does
get rather too much after a time.
You make it sound so
bucolic, George.
Ah, well.
Tell us one of your stories, Laddie.
Honestly, I cry listening to him.
It's heart-breaking.
I'll tell you the story
my mother told me
the last night I spent with her.
I remember every minute of it.
She was feeding me hominy,
and she'd lit a candle
that she'd made herself from beef-fat
so she could make the
shadows dance on the wall.
The whole cabin smelled like barbecue.
It was an Igbo tale.
One her own mother had
told her about the Asiki.
The Asiki were human children
who were snatched by witches.
Kidnapped. Taken out of sight.
The witches spirited them
away deep into large forests
where they sliced out their tongues.
MUFFLED GASPS
Changed every hair on their
heads from wool to silk.
Changed their skin
too, from black to gold.
Put them to sleep.
The next morning, the
Asiki woke with no memory.
Their mothers and fathers forgotten.
Their homes forgotten.
Full of questions
they had no way to ask.
A toast, George!
To your singing,
dancing, smiling subjects.
To all those men in Antigua
who make your own manhood possible.
LANGTON CHUCKLES
And to the women
LANGTON CHOKES LIGHTLY
What is it the women do
for you again George?
Is my mother still among them?
SHOCKED MURMURS
Gentlemen.
Cigars.
Speaking for myself,
I've thoroughly enjoyed this
evening's entertainment, George!
Top-notch!
Well, I think he had a point.
It was cruel that you
didn't think to warn me
that you would be bringing him.
What's cruel is that you
can never simply be happy
about my efforts to make you happy.
Is that so impossible?
Is your happiness so
entirely out of reach, Meg?
You and Frances are
certainly very quiet, my dear.
I am sure we're all simply tired.
Welcome home, Sir, Madame.
Mrs Linux.
Hep Elliot had the boy
in tow this weekend.
I shouldn't be surprised if
he tried to call on us here.
If he does, we will not be at home.
Him also now, Sir!
Just see to it, Mrs Linux.
And as for you, Homer is missing.
- Who?
- The cat!
I have not taken the cat, Mrs
Linux. I have no idea where he is.
I haven't eaten him,
nor do I have his bones.
I've no idea what you're capable of.
I was coming to find you.
I'll stay in the dark
if that's where you are.
I suppose I am your secret now.
What do two women do
in a room of their own?
Isn't this the question that
troubles my accusers most?
We loved each other.
But there are things about that love
I can't bear to talk about.
She hurt me, Sal
and I was so angry.
She wanted me to
She wanted you to what?
Frannie, she wanted you to what?