Upstairs, Downstairs (2010) s01e03 Episode Script

We'll be a family of three by the first week of December.
I used to do this with my sister.
Winding wool was her favourite game.
Mosley's going to break down barriers of class.
Persie, you've embraced an ideology you do not comprehend.
How do you know I don't comprehend it? I will send my sister to bed when I'm good and ready.
Agnes! I'm relieved to see her taking charge of something.
I have a secret.
Somebody come to our bedroom! Lotte will be looked after here for as long as necessary.
That way this house can start to make amends.
Hallam, Agnes tells me you intend to name this baby Hector.
If it is a boy, I shall be deeply hurt if you don't call it Greville.
What if it's a girl? I should have thought that was obvious.
What's wrong with my mother's name? Your mother's name was Ambrosine.
Brenda.
That's my favourite.
I like Biblical names.
I don't think they're at all exclusive.
You see Biblical names above pub doors, and when they're shortened, they can sound quite common.
What's your Christian name, Mr Pritchard? Warwick.
After the town where my parents honeymooned.
It makes me glad we keep to formal terms.
'Strawberries, raspberries, lemon tart, what is the name of your sweetheart? 'Does it begin with A, B, C? D or E or F or G? 'Does it begin with H or I' J, K, L or apple pie? You're meant to jump in when I say L.
L for Lotte.
Excuse me, madam.
I'm not pointing the finger, but we're a fondant fancy down again.
Miss Buck has had to be creative with the cake stand.
It was only one.
And they were both for Lotte.
I was hoping she'd say thank you.
PHONE RINGS 'Have you learned any new Marlene Dietrich songs?' Herr von Ribbentrop? HE LAUGHS I had hoped you might sing me Just A Gigolo.
But you're not just a gigolo now, Herr von Ribbentrop.
You're the German Ambassador.
And I would have thought that since you've been promoted, you'd have more to do in the afternoons than telephone young ladies for a chat.
I can't lift this, it's too heavy.
Mr Pritchard, you'll have to swap with her.
If I must.
Please note the Georgian cream jug and sugar nips.
It's only a nanny come for an interview.
Well, this one's been with the Greek royal family.
And apparently the Countess of Oranmore is after her! I'm assuming no news on an upstairs maid.
Lady Agnes won't discuss it till a nanny is engaged.
Well, I didn't come here to be scrubbing my own turnips.
And which doctor will be delivering Baby? Mr Gascoigne.
At home, or in the hospital? Here, of course.
It seems foolish not to, when everything is so well appointed.
Your floral arrangements are certainly a feature.
Oh, these are exceptional.
My sister and I are being photographed tomorrow.
By Cecil Beaton.
My concern is purely with the nurseries.
And the kitchen, which I would like to view.
All uncooked meat must be moved elsewhere.
And I hope the basement floor is properly aired.
Baby's napkins need a ventilated space for drying.
We were planning to use a laundry service.
In which case, every napkin must be monogrammed.
Oh! Are there other children apart from Baby? This is Lotte, who's staying with us for the present.
She likes to keep her shoes here on the bottom stair.
And is Lotte a relative? I consider her my ward.
She's being looked after downstairs by our staff.
She has impetigo.
A nasty, dirty illness.
Very similar to ringworm.
'She will have gone straight round to the Countess of Oranmore.
' She didn't even ask what kind of pram I'd ordered.
Hallam had impetigo three times in India.
Twice on his face, and once somewhere he'd prefer me not to mention.
Miss Buck says they can treat it with a dab of gentian violet.
No, it's imperative that Lotte sees a doctor.
And not because of that petty skin affliction.
I strongly suspect that the loss of her mother has caused her some sort of mental blockage.
I don't doubt it.
The child hasn't spoken since her mother died.
She needs to be with what family she has left.
Mr Amanjit, have you made any progress? I have dispatched many letters of enquiry.
Sir Hallam furnished me with a list of German prisons, and I wrote to them all in the hope of finding Lotte's father.
The man was jailed for communist activity.
Which is nothing short of heroic under Hitler.
Or foolhardy, if you are a Jew.
If we can find any relatives for that child at all, I intend to get them out of Germany.
Do you ever wonder how we dare? When the walls are almost made of glass? Nobody ever comes out here.
Not at night, at any rate.
You should creep into the house.
Sneak up to my room.
We'd be much more likely to get caught.
I don't want to get caught.
Don't you think it would be fun to see my sister's face? No.
Sir.
Holland.
Did you know the King has set Mrs Simpson up in a house in Cumberland Terrace? Yes.
As soon as her newest divorce came through.
Thank God for the English papers and their honourable silence.
It won't last.
It can't.
It will have to burst soon like a boil.
I want you to look at this.
It's a copy of a letter written to the King by his private secretary.
Who was advised, discreetly, by certain government ministers.
Mr Baldwin and the Cabinet are to meet to discuss action? Yes.
Meanwhile, we're collating information about Ribbentrop, and his rumoured liaison with the Simpson woman.
But there are rumours she turned tricks in a Peking brothel.
Rumours that she's actually a man! None of those have put the King off.
Rumours won't.
Ribbentrop is under surveillance.
We need proof.
And proof takes time.
Once the papers break, we're out of time completely.
Poor child was lying in a heap of papers.
Not even tucked up in an envelope.
Mother doesn't like to talk about Pamela.
She was bringing her to England to stay with relatives.
She died of fever on the voyage home.
Agnes.
You said you didn't like to talk about her.
Well, I'd quite like to talk about her now.
What sort of fever was it? Mother didn't say.
I suppose I didn't ask, although I do remember crying.
I thought I'd have a sister all my life.
But she was born, she played with wool.
Always white wool.
And we lost her.
It was such a little life.
The world seems full of little lives just now.
I never noticed them before, and all of a sudden they're everywhere I look.
Lotte makes me feel something is circling my house.
Tapping on the window, like a bird's beak, or a branch.
I wish it was a less disturbing feeling.
You said to wear the marabou bolero! I know I did, and who am I to judge? Miss Buck's coming down to press the Hartnell crepe de Chine.
There's been a contretemps regarding pastel tones.
I still can't credit we've got Cecil Beaton upstairs! What does it look like, now it's all set up? You can't fault the man on detail, Mrs Thack.
He's brought his own pillar.
One of the assistants has said our make-up is wrong for a black-and-white photograph.
I'm being sent for liquid powder, and a Tangee lipstick.
There's no need to risk your diamonds.
Ivy, dry your hands! We're in a hurry.
I'd sooner go myself.
You're supposed to ring if you want the car.
Mr Amanjit's on the telephone talking to Maud's publisher.
Lady Holland's publisher.
Why do you keep telling me the rules? Because I'm getting sick of breaking them.
Don't move a single muscle.
I spy the shadow of an unruly rose.
Mr Beaton uses roses quite a lot.
Does he really? It used to be branches of blossom, but he seems to have moved on.
You're very familiar with his style.
I've got several of his portraits pinned up round my mirror.
I think it helps me keep my standards up.
Do me a kindness, and stay just where you are.
No.
Sit on the chaise.
People say Mr Beaton does a bit afterwards.
That he takes inches off a waist, and a decade off a jawline.
Do you suppose that's true? I know it's true.
What people don't perceive is how much he does beforehand.
It's like my meringues.
A single moment in the mouth, but they're all night in the oven with the door pushed to.
Oh.
You've rather lovely wrists.
Trouble is, they've got my hands attached.
It's like I've got someone else's gloves on.
Loose-fitting, and with a sort of corded back.
I keep wanting to take them off, cast them aside.
But I'm stuck with them.
Not necessarily.
You're Mr Beaton! Where did you disappear to? My room.
I've been applying Porter's liniment.
I always wondered what it'd be like.
To have a man come home to you from a public house.
Well, you can carry on wondering.
This isn't your home, and I haven't come to you.
You're losing your way.
You don't come to meetings.
You go in secret.
You don't need the car.
I get the bus.
I've got beliefs.
Unlike you, it would appear.
I've seen the result of those beliefs.
In this house.
And I have to live with that.
No-one has to do anything, Harry.
No-one has to accept the status quo.
You mean you don't have to.
People like you don't have any need for politics.
Your world don't need to shift.
Everything's golden, and nothing touches you.
You've changed your tune.
I've changed.
PHONE RINGS I'm sorry it's so late.
Nobody is disturbed, it's delightful to hear your voice.
I was passing by your door, and I required a cigarette.
You do talk a lot of rot.
Come upstairs.
You know Esmond Harmsworth, don't you? Chairman of Associated Newspapers.
Yes, of course.
Ask him to dinner, old chap.
And ask me too.
Help me lever one more week of silence from the press.
There are still tactics we can use.
Things we can do to keep my brother on the throne.
Do you seriously believe he may renounce it? The word is "abdicate".
The first time I heard it said, it was as though an axe had been brought out of an armoury.
Every syllable has an edge like steel.
As my mother said, it's the sort of thing that happens in Romania.
You really are out of cigarettes, aren't you? There's been so much talk.
Quite as if we're an ordinary family.
Struggling with a conventional black sheep.
Except ordinary families don't talk much.
I suppose not.
Hallam, Eden is aware that this dinner has been proposed.
Will you do it? I don't want you to feel that it's some sort of duty.
But my brother has a duty.
And we need more time.
Why can't the Duchess of Kent give a bloody dinner? She is rather heavily expectant.
He begged me, Agnes.
When the Kents entertain, it's the Duke who chooses all the food and wine! Her Royal Highness doesn't have to lift a finger! Why can't Agnes organise the menu? I thought all London was in thrall to her Dixie Chicken Wings.
Mother, Eden needs me to do this.
The Duke of Kent has begged me to do this.
And if it goes the wrong way, we could end up with Mrs Simpson as our Queen! Well, I'll put off my publisher, and come to dinner as a guest.
But I am busy with revisions.
You'll have to speak to Mrs Thackeray yourself.
I had to serve toast to the Duke of Kent last night.
All the raised game pie was gone.
It was Lotte.
She likes a bedtime snack.
I never noticed any gravy round her mouth.
It's from the university where Rachel used to teach.
My German is rudimentary, but it says they have no other address for Frau Rachel Perlmutter, and are aware of no other relations.
Snap! Lotte, you're meant to say snap.
Meanwhile, I have found no trace of Lotte's father.
I don't know what good he'd be, put inside for flirting with the Reds.
He should've thought on, with a wife and child.
Oh! It's my photograph! What photograph? "I did a bit afterwards.
With pleasure, Cecil Beaton".
I could be aristocracy.
Have you seen my hands? And then, I suppose, a soup.
What about Consomme a la Christina? It has a chestnut garnish, nice for the time of year.
Very well.
Do we do the fish next? Erm Cod.
En fricasse a la suede.
Is thatswede? It means Swedish.
It's potato, piped in ornamental crescents.
What do you want for your meat? Well, everybody likes a steak.
This isn't a formal menu.
This is just brown dinner! Brown soup, brown fish, brown meat.
And a pudding au chocolat to finish.
If you'd read it properly, you'd see Sir Hallam wants to finish with a savoury.
We settled on marrow bones.
Marrow bones are what one gives an ailing dog! We'll have a pimento croustade for the savoury.
Pheasant for the main course.
And the dessert simply must introduce a note of colour.
Petits Puddings Alexandra would be nice.
Yes.
And perhaps a pistachio Bavarois.
He nodded and he smiled.
I referred to my meringues so as to illustrate a point.
I'll be referring to your meringues in a letter of dismissal if I have to unpick a mess like that again! I'm sorry, Miss Buck, but Sir Hallam sent for me.
I'm sorry, Mrs Thackeray, but you've forgotten your place.
Oh, Miss Buck! Miss Buck! Those are very harsh words! It started with that photograph.
It gave her a taste of what it's like to ape her betters.
Please, you're just twisting the knife! You're the one aping your betters.
Making a god of your cast-off silver teapot.
That teapot is testament to the fact that I gave the Bellamy family 40 years of impeccable service! It was a throw-out and you know it.
Either you got it or the dustbin.
I am your direct superior and I will not have this insolence.
This photograph has turned your head.
I won't have the junior servants exposed to it.
Consider it confiscated.
Mr Pritchard, would you tell Miss Buck I'll be repairing to my kitchen? I'll pass on the grocery order in due course.
I'm disappointed, Lady Holland.
I had hoped to meet your famous monkey.
Solomon? Sadly, Mr Harmsworth, formal dining bores him.
And you know, he doesn't do tricks, unlike a certain favourite of the King.
I understand His Majesty is currently in Wales.
Where he was met by an arch of unlit Davy lamps, held aloft by jobless miners.
You read the Daily Mail.
The King's remarks on unemployment played quite splendidly, I thought.
A very good headline.
"Something must be done".
I never heard a comment so doomed to reverberate.
Something must be done about what? Is he referring to the miners or his own parlous position? Mother Mr Harmsworth, may we discuss the discretion of the press with regards to Mrs Simpson? The topic hasn't been mentioned and we're almost finished with the pheasant.
I don't know what's under discussion in the dining room but every time we knock, the silence is so thick you could stuff a cushion with it.
Ivy, you can carry up the Bavarois! Out of Borstal then, Johnny? Yes, Mr Pritchard.
I've had my eye on you, Miss Morris, and I'm not having this.
Dishing out cold food to vagrants.
You can dish out hot food.
What was it like in Borstal then? No worse than here.
Up at dawn, meals on the dot.
Mind your Ps and Qs.
Where do you go to now? I dunno.
Back home to your village? To the pit? I've been released into the wild.
Like a bird.
Parliament has made it plain.
The King must renounce Mrs Simpson or the throne.
Mrs Simpson has assured me that she understands entirely.
You've been in conversation with her? She's invited me to luncheon.
To discuss the likely public response to her unveiling.
In one of your papers? In all of my papers.
Mrs Simpson cares, Sir.
And quite rightly.
She loves the King and he insists that they must marry.
But she has no wish to become Queen.
Then someone must suggest to her a morganatic marriage.
He stays on the throne and she takes one of his less enthralling titles.
She might find "Duchess of Lancaster" acceptable.
Yes.
One imagines she'd be satisfied on almost every level.
She'd be spared the consort's crown but still have a coronet to appease her magpie mind.
Would the King agree to a morganatic marriage? It would be a compromise of course and compromise has never been his strong suit.
But I don't doubt Mrs Simpson would consider it.
I suggest you put it to her, Mr Harmsworth.
During our luncheon? She was spawned by a republic.
Explaining the finer points would take at least a week.
And you wouldn't want to leak the story in the meantime.
After all, you are her confidant.
Here's five bob to help you on your way.
Mr Pritchard says they don't charge at that hostel.
Use it for your bus fare.
Dining room.
I'll leave you to it.
I'm not happy about this at all.
There's still been absolutely nothing in the papers.
Largely thanks to Mother.
You can always trust her judgement.
Are you going to ask me what Mr Gascoigne said? What did he say? That it looks like a Christmas baby.
I've got weeks more of this to go.
He says my age is more of a hindrance than a help and he's going to put me to sleep and use forceps.
Is that not good? When he left, he patted my hand.
Have you any idea how terrifying it is when an obstetrician pats your hand? Next week, his nurse is coming.
And she's going to medicalise the bedroom.
Whatever's going on? No-one will hurt you.
I'm sorry, Sir! She sleeps with me but I never heard her wake! Has she done this before? Often.
Though she doesn't come down to this floor in the general way, Sir.
She's made a puddle on the carpet! I'm not sure I can bear this.
We're bearing it.
That is enough! Ivy, show Sir Hallam where you sleep.
He'll carry Lotte back upstairs.
Be very careful or you'll disturb her further.
Come on, good girl.
I simply want to help the child.
I thought she could go to boarding school and live here in the holidays.
But now I'm not convinced that that is possible.
Lotte needs specialist medical care.
If she cannot speak, she cannot have a future.
Please allow me to consult the proper doctors.
I'm sorry, Mother.
I took Lotte on, I should be the one who resolves the situation.
Hallam, Whitehall needs you and Agnes is preoccupied.
I could start by arranging for her throat to be examined.
What did you give her salt water for? I only wanted her to gargle! Salt water's good if you've got a poorly throat! Ivy's a very bad girl, Lotte! If I was Miss Buck, I'd make sure she was disciplined.
You come in my kitchen.
I'll make you a drink to take the taste away.
I bet Lady Holland's going to put her in an orphanage! Lotte has no family, Ivy.
She's got us! She bunks in with me and she don't eat hardly nothing! She sleeps in my bed and she eats hardly anything.
I don't care what English you say it in, Mr Pritchard.
Queen's English or the human kind.
But I don't want her going nowhere like the Cottage Homes! And you wouldn't neither if you'd been put in one when you was born! I was born in a thousand-year-old castle.
Once upon a time, a warlord earned it.
Or fought for it.
Drew blood from an enemy and won.
But after that, not a thing was ever altered.
It's like a carcass.
You can smell it going bad.
You're talking like a socialist.
I've looked into socialism.
"From each according to their ability.
To each according to their needs"? I think it will lead to a ghastly imbalance.
I'm not a socialist, Herr Ribbentrop.
I wish you would call me Joachim.
I'm a national socialist, Joachim.
Mosley thinks the world of you.
Mosley's had his day.
No seat in Parliament.
Since Cable Street, he's practically been outlawed.
He isn't devoid of friends.
He is in London.
And in London, that's the only thing that counts.
Tell me about Germany.
We did our utmost, Sir.
The morganatic marriage notion bought some time and MI5 did uncover secret trysts between Mrs Simpson and a used car salesman.
Not Ribbentrop? No.
It was deemed a private matter.
The King will not be told.
Was there nothing at all on our German friend? There was plenty on our German friend.
You'll be seeing the documents later on today.
He hasn't abdicated yet! It's all conjecture, and vulgarised at that.
I don't know why people are getting so distraught! People feel personally involved, Mr Pritchard.
And they aren't, and they never will be.
I've put canapes in that woman's mouth! If that's not personal involvement, I don't know what is! Anyone who isn't crying hasn't got a heart! - Miss Buck is blinking tears back.
- That's enough.
I told you to unplug that wireless and carry it upstairs.
The family's set has broken altogether.
Take Lotte downstairs and try to help her settle.
I shan't require you for a while.
Very good, Madam.
It's as I thought.
The loss of her voice is entirely in her mind.
There must be other doctors who can help her.
Yes, dear.
They're called psychiatrists.
Is it that bad, do you suppose? We must believe it's that bad or she won't get any better.
Maud, I don't know what to do.
Keep the child entertained.
Give her an ordinary day.
I'll make all the necessary arrangements.
Honey.
Honey.
Say honey! If not for your own sake, say it for your mother's.
When I was a girl, I adored doing jigsaws.
I was always in charge of the blue bits.
My mother used to say, "that's Agnes's job.
Agnes is in charge of sky".
My mother died, Lotte.
She died when my little sister was born.
That's me, kid.
I was older than you but it was still unbearable.
I kept thinking, "I mustn't cry, I mustn't howl, I must be brave".
There always seemed to be so many people watching.
And in the end, I'd have to run away into the woods and scream and scream, without using any words at all.
Because there's nothing one can say when one's mother dies.
That really is quite splendid.
Such a lovely lot of blue.
For pity's sake, Agnes! Will you spare the child? And spare yourself.
Lotte and I will be leaving at three.
Spargo will drive us as far as the branch line.
Please, Madam.
Permit me to accompany you.
No.
There's enough of the circus about today's proceedings.
If it is not the crowds outside the palace weeping for the King, it's the wailing and grizzling all over the house for Lotte.
- We are concerned about her.
- So am I.
Very seriously concerned.
But I've arranged for the child to have treatment.
I do hope you'll trust me to do my best for her.
Lady Holland, will she ever come back to us? If she doesn't recover, she can't come back.
Your name is Carlotte Marganit Perlmutter.
You were born in Frankfurt in 1929.
You are a Jewess.
Your father is called Avram Perlmutter.
In August 1936, he was known to be alive.
After your mother's death on 4th October 1936, you were removed to 165 Eaton Place, Belgravia.
We ought to give her this.
What would a child want with a woman's nightdress? When I started wearing it, it used to smell like Rachel.
It don't smell like anything now, which probably means it smells like me.
You were cared for by the staff.
They remembered your mother.
And they loved you.
It's all in there.
Every telephone call.
Every visit to your home.
You may peruse the records at your leisure.
Joachim von Ribbentrop has never been in my home! Really? He turned up, inopportunely, at a cocktail party.
You were there, Sir.
I wasn't there last Friday night.
He was.
Arriving at half past midnight and leaving at 3am! Who was he visiting, if not you? Who was he telephoning, if not you?! I shall find out.
We already have.
It's all in here.
It's Lady Persephone.
Your wife's sister.
I suggest you go home and put your house in order.
Where is Lady Persie? She has a dinner engagement, Sir.
We were told not to wait up.
It's bad enough you knew nothing of your sister's movements but to relinquish all control of a small child in our care.
I've had other preoccupations, just like you! Where was Lotte taken? To a reputable clinic.
Under the care of a psychiatrist.
Since when did my mother know anything about psychiatrists? She said she had connections through her charitable causes! She took charge most efficiently.
Said it was best to act at once and without fuss.
I can't believe you didn't ask more questions! That you allowed her to run the entire show! She's running everything else! And as you said, you can always trust her judgement.
Lady Holland made me leave them with the branch line, Sir.
You left my mother and a vulnerable child at a railway station? She insisted, Sir.
And with respect, you know what Lady Holland's like when she insists.
I can't accept that you have no knowledge of their whereabouts.
She made calls when I was not in the room.
She has always made calls when I am not in the room.
Even I am not permitted to know everything.
Mother! You acted without my permission! I acted in everyone's best interest.
I shouldn't have to have your permission to do that.
I want any address relating to Berkshire, whether it sounds like a clinic or not.
And any surname prefaced with the word "doctor".
I respect her privacy.
I am her secretary.
Not a relative.
She is refusing to talk to us.
Go through them.
Go through them all.
Threaten me.
You will have to threaten me or I cannot do it.
I'll do more than threaten you.
I'll threaten her.
I'm going to find that child and she won't stop me.
Good morning.
I'm sorry, we don't usually have visitors so early.
I came to see a girl who was brought here by my mother.
Oh, Sir Hallam! How nice! She had breakfast on a tray this morning.
You need room nine at the top of the stairs.
Heathcote Manor.
Nurse Jackson speaking.
Pamela? I think I'm your brother, Pamela.
I know you are.
Sir Hallam! There's been some confusion! No.
There's been no confusion at all.
Mother! Mother! You will come out and speak to me.
Damn you! Leave her be, Sir.
Agnes told me.
Is she still upset? Obviously.
Although she's mainly moaning about her back.
I said to her, "Cheer up, Sis.
All the best families have a monster in the attic".
The monster isn't Pamela, Persie.
It's you.
I'm hardly in the attic now Eden's done his stuff.
And soon I won't be in your house at all.
Where are you going? The King's about to speak to the Empire on the wireless.
I shall listen with friends at the German Embassy.
And after that, I'm leaving for Berlin.
Give this to Agnes.
She might like it if she has a little girl.
Just those two suitcases.
Do we have anything to say to one another? I don't know what you mean, Lady Persephone.
I didn't think we did.
Do hurry up.
I'm missing all the fun.
This is London.
London calling the Empire, at home and overseas.
This is Windsor Castle.
His Royal Highness, Prince Edward.
Come in.
May we, Sir? At long last I am able to say a few words of my own.
I have never wanted to withhold anything but until now, it has not been constitutionally possible for me to speak.
You all know the reasons which have impelled me to renounce the throne But I want you to understand that in making up my mind, I did not forget the country or the Empire, which as Prince of Wales, and lately as King, I have for 25 years tried to serve.
Why did you come? I need someone to send for Mr Gascoigne! I think it's far too late for Mr Gascoigne.
Besides, he's probably listening to history being made.
Brace yourself against the bath, my dear.
Draw your knees right up.
There's no need to look.
It's not a sight that you'll care to recollect.
I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge my duties as King as I would wish to do, without the help and support of the woman I love.
GROANING Don't leave me! Dear, I must fetch help.
Might I be of any assistance? Oh yes, Pritchard, you may.
Ah.
During the War, I was on the ambulances.
Blood panics most people.
When I see it, I calm down.
All will be well.
Mother nature knows what she's about and so do I.
If you would be so kind, your ladyship.
Oh, Prichard.
Events are moving very fast.
I imagine you'll need implements.
Master bedroom.
Bring the whole trolley.
Could you just blow, your ladyship? Blow and blow again as if you're putting out a lot of candles.
Keep bearing down.
Splendid! Splendid.
You're almost at the finish.
BABY CRIES You have a little boy, your ladyship.
Persie looked just like him the day that she was born.
I vowed I'd take care of her forever.
Persie will have to take care of herself.
I never knew a day so full of unimaginable things.
I imagined this.
Seven pounds, three ounces! And they're calling him Hector Greville Holland.
It is very dignified.
Not Warwick after you, then? I reckon he's in for a Christmas bonus! It wasn't a complex delivery.
A passing policeman would've obliged for a cigar.
KNOCKING What's Johnny doing here? I shall be asking Sir Hallam for a favour in due course.
My brother's gone, Hal.
He left on a destroyer.
It's finished.
It's finished and I I don't know where to start.
Start what, old chap? Forgiving him.
You can't forgive him.
I have no choice because the love doesn't stop.
And where there's no forgiveness, love is just it's unbearable.
'It was what people did.
' It was what I did with you.
Children were sent to England so that they didn't die.
In every bungalow one went to, every single British home, there was always a photograph in pride of place.
"Yes", they would say, "Those are the children away at boarding school".
It was one's badge of honour.
A definite sign that duty had been done.
You were always so terribly easy to be proud of.
We thought we'd be proud of your baby sister too.
It dawns gradually, the knowledge that a child is not like others.
It took time to accept that she must be put away.
Mother.
Did you lie to Father too? There was no need.
We always did the biggest things together.
Why did you tell me she had died? Were you afraid I would not love her? No.
I knew that you did.
And that sort of devotion is an agony.
I'm your mother too.
I felt you should be spared it.
I suppose he seems a respectable sort.
And at least he's decided to be called King George.
Morning room and drawing room fires both stoked.
I took what was left to Mr Pritchard's grate.
It'll do you to keep on his right side.
Shall we treat ourselves and get my silver pot out? I thought you'd got rid of it.
Hid it.
From you.
I'm not going to be foolish about it.
Go on.
Put it on the mantelpiece.
Funny things, names.
The way we let them gather dust.
I never liked the one my mother picked for me but I miss it now.
It's Clarice, isn't it? Yes.
And I'm Rose.
Pamela.
Do you know what that is, Lotte? It's a new school uniform.
You do look grown-up.
You'll still be coming here in the holidays, of course.
What do you say to Sir Hallam? Thank you! If you would care to step onto the landing, ladies and gentlemen.
Oh, Miss Buck! Is everything as you would wish? Yes.
Yes, it is.
APPLAUSE Well done, Miss Buck.