Indian Summers (2015) s01e04 Episode Script

1 Ripped By mstoll Whelan! Where is he? So much the better.
We'll surprise him.
Mr Ralph sahib? The Viceroy? Why's he coming here? Why would he do that? Lat Sahib wishes to see you after so many weeks.
Yes, well, er, better inform the syce, in case he wants to ride.
Horse-keeper is up and waiting.
Yes.
And coffee.
That bitter Nilgiri stuff he likes to drink and complain about.
Did they ask where I was, on the telephone? - I said you are in church, sahib.
- In church? Christ.
He'll enjoy that.
- Ralph! - Gene.
I wrote you a note.
You want to read it? - Look, why don't you just tell me what's in it? - All right.
My dear Ralph Words cannot convey.
Health, as you see, back in the pink.
We're going home now.
You look done in.
Why don't you get some rest, and we can talk about it over supper? Too late.
Train departs today, four o'clock.
And Madeleine? Does she have a say in any of this? Don't be so coy, my dear fellow.
You've had your fun.
Jesus Christ, I have to knock twice before I walk through every goddamn door in the house! What are your intentions? Because Madeleine is a high prize! - Gene? - Honey, say farewell to our host.
What? - Madeleine, talk some sense into your brother.
- Whelan! - Mr Ralph sahib.
- Pack your things.
We leave for Chicago.
Today.
- Unless you have something to say to her.
- Stop it.
He's being ridiculous.
- Do you have something to say to my sister? - Don't answer that.
Jesus! What has gotten into you? Whelan! Where are you hiding? I wish you a safe passage.
What? - Couldn't get the car up the bloody road! - Your Excellency.
Ah, my boy.
We've wasted enough time here already.
How was London? The meeting? Plenty of time for all that.
Now, you can get your chap, if he'd like to get up, to bring me some of that dreadful South Indian coffee you enjoy so much.
You've met Captain Percy, haven't you? - Help! - What on earth is going on? Some men just delivered.
Here.
For the little rajah in his undershirt.
What is it? No, maybe you shouldn't touch it.
- Oh, books! - Old books! Hints On Riding.
- A History Of Common Law.
- Baapi, let me see that.
Oh, Aafrin, it's revision for your ICS exam in the winter.
- Oh, here's a letter.
- Let me see! No! It's for your brother.
Ma, why don't you open it for me? Oh.
Well, if you insist.
From Mr Ralph Whelan.
"Prae, praemonitus" - "Praemonitus praemunitus.
" Forewarned is forearmed.
It's a proverb.
"With best wishes for your swift recovery.
Ralph.
" - Oh, God.
- Ssh! "Please present yourself at Viceregal Lodge for some sport.
" What sport? Later this afternoon.
It means something quite different.
Ah.
- Sir - Thank you.
Sorry to drag you away, sir.
The report into our death in custody, from the Coroner's office, sir.
- Chandru Mohan? - Yes.
"We cannot know for certain the precise motives for the assault on Mr Whelan's life.
Mohan appears to have acted alone.
His motives are unclear.
Nor can we ascertain his mental state at the time of the shooting.
" So.
Lone gunman, possibly insane.
If we hadn't lost the blasted evidence, sir The proof there, in black and white, to tie the terrorist to Congress.
Lost or taken? Well, there's the rub, sir.
Have you drawn up the list of the people who were there that day? When would be convenient for us to conduct the search, sir? I have an idea.
What's this one? I'm going to ask Miss Alice over tomorrow.
Nothing fancy, just a light tea, if you could be in.
Of course.
Happy to.
Good.
What's this one? Ah, here he is.
- Oh, my boy.
- Uncle.
He refused to go anywhere till you arrived.
You need to get me home to Fife.
You understand? Not here.
Come on, come on, it's all right.
When I think 40 year in this goddamn stinking pit.
My whole stinking life.
Don't make a fuss.
Come on.
It's all arranged.
Sister Margaret here has very kindly volunteered to take you all the way to Southampton.
And she won't stand for any of your nonsense, you dirty dog.
Come on! That's it.
I mean it.
You get back.
I'm not one for fare thee wells.
Cheerie bye.
Goodbye, Uncle.
Say hello to Scotland for me.
You'll look after my gardens for me, won't you? - Keep 'em safe, till I come back again.
- Yes, yes, I will.
- You promise? - Aye, I promise.
Very well.
Nice and loose.
That's it.
- Mm.
- Sir.
And let go.
Your shoulder.
How unforgivably stupid of me.
It's perfectly fine, really.
I didn't see it.
- Where did it go? - Not awfully far.
We've all got to start somewhere.
Mr Keane, sir, I think you are an expert golfer.
Oh, far from it.
Far from it.
- Fine shot, Mr Keane.
- Damn it.
Screwed it again.
Ah, here he is.
What is this? The Viceroy of India.
Deep breath.
Your Excellency, might I present Mr Aafrin Dalal? Ah.
Any man who stands before a bullet I think can look me in the eye, don't you? He has the look of a teacher.
Mr Whelan's very own munshi.
So much the better, Mr Dalal.
We need all the education we can get.
- Good shot, sir! - Well hit.
There's no great science, just hit it! I promised I'd ask.
You see, my spies tell me there's a young lady on the scene.
- Well, they're clearly better informed than I am.
- Yes.
- How old are you now? - 30, sir.
Already? My God.
- You came to my birthday tea, if you remember.
- So I did.
Still.
30 years.
A serious age.
Perhaps you'd like to meet her? There is no time for this.
We have a train to catch.
- Here, let me help.
- No! I am not going to be bullied into rushing.
- Get your hands off! - Listen to me! Don't you see? - He's sampled the wares, he's not buying.
- Aren't you smart, Eugene? He's using you, and the minute he gets tired or bored Maybe I don't fucking care.
You know? Maybe I like it.
Perfect.
I'm getting together a supper party tomorrow.
Just a few friends.
The Viceroy among them.
I was hoping you might be persuaded to stay on one more night, as a sort of hostess.
I don't think this is such a good idea.
I'm sorry.
This morning.
Your brother, he caught me on the hop.
But, you see, the Viceroy did ask especially to meet you.
- You told him about me? - Yes.
Oh.
Should I not have? Oh no, I I'm glad.
Don't go.
I couldn't stand it.
You know, I think that might be your train.
Yeah.
There's no great science to it.
- No moving, sahib.
- Nice loose grip and swing.
Oh! Definitely it's high time this fellow got a new suit.
- It's just a small supper party.
Very informal.
- Ah.
Then wear Daddy's pyjamas.
They're informal.
So he spoke to you directly? The Viceroy himself? At some length he spoke to me.
- And what did he say? - Naturally he asked all about you, Ma.
Oh, really? Of course.
What subject more fitting than his own mother? Hands off, Daddy.
- And what did you say? - He simply said "I only wish to do my duty.
" Ssh! Can I get down now? You hardly ate.
Oh, go on.
- Nice to see you, Miss Alice.
- You too, Matthew.
You know what he came out with today? "Why can't I go to Daddy's school?" Really? I see you're not rushing in to condemn it.
No.
I mean, it would be an adjustment, certainly.
An Is that what you call it? No.
No.
He's real English.
He needs to be back home, at an English school, with English children, not a lot of blackie-whites you picked up from God knows where, some of them.
Miss Whelan, tell me.
What was your experience? Well, I was sent home, yes, I'd have been eight.
- And you didn't feel displaced? - She had her brother with her.
- In the holidays.
- There.
See? She was quite secure.
But surely, your mother? Your father? You missed them and they missed you.
But you were home, and that's the point.
Home.
Yes, that's what we all called it.
Though I can't say, to be honest, it ever felt that way.
Everyone said I would love it, of course.
Like a warm bath, my mother used to say.
But the reality was more of a cold shower.
Well, I'm sorry.
Any child of mine has the right to know there's more than this.
Did you ask your son? What does he want? - Oh, that's a rich question, Sarah.
Forgive me.
- I should - Why don't I walk you home? Thank you very much.
They gave you a fair hearing? Oh, yes.
The Prime Minister made himself briefly available.
So, this summer, we have to show the world we're committed to reform.
The Provincial Assemblies? They're back on the table? Oh, indeed.
Whitehall are drawing up a framework for democracy.
I told the India Office they need a man at this end.
You have someone in mind? Oh, Whelan, no coyness.
For crying out loud, man.
Now, look, we're going to want reserved quotas, for the minorities, so that all the nations of India might be represented.
Not just the damned Hindu nationalists, but the Muslims, and the Sikhs, and so on.
So everyone has a voice.
The Untouchables? The Depressed Classes? They still want their own political representation.
Yes, but Gandhi is dead against.
He wants all Hindus "marching under one flag".
His own.
That's all he cares about.
Strength in numbers.
It did cross my mind, the Untouchables' leader, Dr Ambedkar, he caused quite a stir at the conference last year.
He has no love of Gandhi.
Invite them up.
There's no harm in making overtures.
The Prophet of Peace presumes to speak for all India.
Let's see if we can't break things up a bit, hm? Good thinking, sir.
Now, what about this heiress of yours? Alice, what would you do if you had a friend and you discovered that friend was telling an untruth? Do you let the lie stand, and carry on as if you know nothing? Become part of the lie, if you like.
Sorry, I'm not making myself clear at all.
Say this friend shows up, child in tow, tells anyone who cares to ask - that she's a widow, you see, when in reality - Wait.
I'm sorry What have you heard? The man you married is alive, and fit.
And you just simply took yourself off.
With the child.
And your husband came home to an empty house.
What will you do, if word somehow got out? You know, a covenanted civilian like your brother.
The "heaven-born".
We do expect high things over here.
What do you want? To help silly.
Look at him.
He's laughing at us.
Not a bruise on him.
While your poor uncle I honestly don't know what's happening to this world.
But there's such a thing as laws in this country and they're not just for Indians.
Come on, break it down! We're going to fight this.
We're going to get your land back.
Aye, it's all right.
A.
B.
B.
C.
C.
It's OK, it's just monkeys.
Who was that? Where is she? Just charm him, like you charmed me.
Perhaps rein it in just a fraction.
For instance, don't grab him in the library.
Shall we? Your Excellency.
Now, which is which? Allow me to present my sister Alice.
Enchanted.
Yes.
And Miss Madeleine Mathers.
Your Excellency.
Up, up, up.
- We've heard all about the pair of you.
- Well, I can't think why.
One tends to keep an eye on young Whelan.
My wife Marie calls him her special case, you see.
Really? Well, he's, er, certainly that.
Ooh! Sir, a drink.
Mr Ronnie Keane.
Oh, no.
- Dalal.
- Ah! Munshi! Christ! Did somebody die? - Very glad you made it.
- Thank you, sir.
What will you have? Your uncle.
On his way home, I hear.
- I had no wish to see him hurt.
- Don't you fear.
I'll be off your land by morning.
As agreed.
If that is what you wish.
What I wish doesnae come into it sir.
You trapped my uncle in a debt and here's your reward.
I came here to make you an offer, but if you do not wish to hear it.
What could you possibly offer me? - So, your family's in industry? - Steel.
Oh, Mathers, yes, of course.
So your father got out all right, before the Crash? So I believe.
He was lucky enough to see it coming.
Oh.
Clever chap.
How's the fowl? Yes.
Very tender.
Thank you.
Don't eat that.
- Ah.
Bhupi, another bird for our guest.
- Sahib.
Thank you, sir.
Ralph, I think your man has taken against Mr Dalal.
- Oh, no-no.
- I'm sure that's not the case.
Mr Dalal saved his master's life.
How could anyone ever compete with such perfect loyalty? But it wasn't my intention.
I acted entirely without thinking.
- Mr Dalal, your family is from the Punjab? - From Bombay.
Well, originally, we are from Persia, but we fled to India many centuries ago.
Parsis.
Sound business sense.
Excuse me a moment.
- Something I'd like a word about.
- Of course.
Later.
How many houses on the list? Do you think this is the famous raid? Raid? Of what? Some evidence conveniently disappeared just before the inquest into our blundering assassin.
Evidence of what? Who knows? He's got it into his head someone's plotting against him.
So he asks a friend of mine to make a list.
Anyone who was in the Coroner's Office the day the evidence went missing.
Quite a number of us are here tonight.
This is coincidence, no? While we feast like kings, the Superintendent will be popping round our houses, looking under the mattress.
Plundering the landlady's skirts.
- They are searching for this - Yes.
Evidence.
Apologies.
I say, that fellow looks well travelled.
That's our great-great Uncle Charlie.
Murdered in Cawnpore, in the Mutiny.
My God, am I the only Englishman left in India who doesn't have an ancestor martyred in '57? One moment, please.
Oh.
I'm so sorry.
Mr Dalal.
Are you lost? Forgive me, Miss Whelan.
What's the matter? Do you remember the night I was shot? Yes, of course.
How could I forget? I lost hope.
- And do you remember you took my hand? - Yes.
Again I am in your hands.
What have you done? I have a message.
It is imperative it reaches my sister Sooni, at once, tonight.
No, please, don't read it.
I hardly dare ask.
Right.
I have an acquaintance.
If you give it to her Do you know St Leonard's church? - The cemetery, above Portmore.
- Yes.
Memsahib? Ah.
Bhupi.
Mr Dalal felt unwell.
He's better now.
Aren't you? Very good.
- Dalal.
Thank God.
Do you sing, man? - No better than I swing a club.
Jessie's Dream.
I expect you've heard it.
It's the Relief of Lucknow, with a bit more thigh.
You can be the murderous sepoys.
You don't do much, and it saves me having to black up for once.
Wait! Wait.
Mr Dalal sent me.
- Aafrin? - Yes.
Sorry.
I ran all the way.
- He's not hurt? - No, not this time.
- What do you want? - Take this.
Get it to his sister, as quick as you can.
I can't go to his house.
They hate me.
He knows this.
It's important.
Captain Codrington.
What's your name? Sita.
She sleeps at length, the weary watcher sleeps And dreams not of death's horrors round her spread - You can do better than that! She hears no more The cannon's thundering voice Now sleeps she all serenely with the dead - More sound and fury! - Very well.
Like this.
Aaaah! Er, yes.
Sorry, sir.
"Sorry, sir"? You're a bloodthirsty sepoy, man! Play on, Mr Keane.
Sorry, sir.
She roams about Her Highland home once more And greets her father coming from the plough The police! Police! But hark! What breaks the stillness? It's a loud and piercing scream Do you hear it? Do you hear it? Oh, it is no idle dream We're saved! We're saved! They're coming! Their approach is hope's bright star 'Tis the Slogan of the Highlanders I hear it from afar Hush, Daddy.
Yes, hark! It is, it is that sound The Pibroch's thrilling blast! The Campbell comes, Macgregor comes The hour of terror's past That vengeance deep is here While softer tones of hope and joy come floating on the air And still the notes God Save The Queen Are blent with Auld Lang Syne I think we all deserve another drink.
Marvellous.
- Fantastic! - Thank you very much, sir.
Thank you.
Cynthia.
Come and sit down.
- I - Now You first.
So, I saw Ramu Sood.
I rode straight over.
He He made me an offer.
Stay on, as manager of my uncle's estate.
Making Armitage tea, just as before.
- But the land is still his? - Aye, but I'll be running it.
That's the point.
As that man's subordinate.
That is the point.
Look, I know you're still something of a griffin in these parts, but this is not how we do things.
Is that clear, Mr McLeod? So, what's your news? There was a telegram.
Your uncle.
On the train? I'm so very sorry.
Come here.
Kaiser, get some brandy.
So, you see, your Mr Sood is now a murderer.
Gerard? Vehicle's ready when you are, sir.
Oh.
Mm.
Glad to be back.
London's too much for me nowadays.
There's a beggar on every street corner.
And they don't seem to care for us any more.
Our own people.
There's no fight.
No optimism.
There you go.
They want us out of here.
I told 'em.
Too bloody bad.
- Good night, sir.
- Yes.
Good night.
You're a good man, Whelan.
Just like your father.
Sir? Who is Gerard? Hm? He called you Gerard.
Did he? Yes.
Er, Gerard is his eldest son.
I'm afraid he died in the war.
Sir, what was it you wished to ask me? - Sahib.
- Wait there.
Shall we go in? After you.
Sit.
Please.
So, the, er the question I meant to ask.
- Sir, I - No, me first, Aafrin.
- May I call you Aafrin? - Of course, sir.
Good.
I find I'm in need of a second opinion.
- Are you ill, sir? - No.
You see, I was looking at your damn picture.
You've caught a likeness.
Everyone says so.
And it got me to thinking.
What did you see in her? Sir? Well, Miss Mathers is a very fine woman.
- Er I am hardly experienced - It's not experience I'm after.
It's instinct.
I want your instinct.
And for God's sake, don't ask me what I think or feel, because the simple truth is I don't know.
- But I - What? Well, I assumed there was some problem, sir, with Mr Rowntree.
There was.
He was after something that was lost and, regrettably, he drew a blank.
I'm very sorry to hear that, sir.
Don't avoid the question.
It's a straightforward proposition.
Do I send her home, or do I marry her? But why do you ask me? You saved my life.
- Cold? - Who cares? What What is it you wanted to ask? Ripped By mstoll