The Haunting of Bly Manor (2020) s01e05 Episode Script

1
The housekeeper knew, more than most,
that deep experience was never peaceful,
and because she knew this
ever since she'd first called Bly home,
she would always find
her way back to peace
within her daily routine,
and it had always worked.
Always.
We can't count on the past.
We can't count on the past.
That's what I learned taking care of Mum.
Hm. It's kind of what dementia is,
isn't it?
I suppose I learned a lot on this.
I mean, we we think we have it
trapped in our memories, but…
Memories fade, or they're wrong.
Any of us could die, at any moment.
Or we could forget our entire lives,
which is like dying.
So, then, think about it.
We can't count on our future, either.
No past.
No future.
Oh, my God,
it's scary, I know, but, Owen…
You're young.
Like, you have a past, you have a future.
Now, I'd argue you can count on both.
Poor, sweet, drunk man.
- Know what I noticed?
- What?
You spend a lot of time
caring for other people.
It's my job.
It's more than that, isn't it?
I mean, if you could
just take that responsibility,
and put it down for a minute…
I mean, I can.
Fuck it.
I
I'm sorry to say it, hm?
I shouldn't say it.
It's-It's-It's a horrible thing to say,
but I'll say it.
It's a bit of a relief.
It's not horrible.
I'm untethered now,
whether I like it or not.
And now I'm thinking…
…maybe I'll go back to Paris.
Well, you, um…
I mean, you…
You could, couldn't you? You…
- I could.
- Yeah.
And you know…
You could, too.
Say it with me.
- Hannah Grose in Paris.
- What would I do in Paris?
Eat croissants
and-and drink good wine.
And live, Hannah.
Live.
Do whatever the hell occurs to us
in the bloody moment.
You and me.
While we still can.
So sorry to interrupt,
but I'm turning into a pumpkin.
Come on, Owen. Time to go home.
All right, well, it's about that time.
I'll-co-hol you later.
God, even for you.
Drive safe.
I know the road. We'll be fine.
It's all good.
Are you Hannah?
Uh, Owen Sharma.
It's so nice to meet you.
Right.
Right, yes.
Sorry,
I-I'm a little discombobulated today.
And, typically, job interviews aren't my…
Well, I'm… I'm far more comfortable
on the other side of the table.
But Charlotte, um, Mrs. Wingrave,
she had to, um…
She had to…
Right, yes. Well, I'm… I'm all set.
Hannah Grose. It's a…
It's a pleasure, please do…
So, um, you…
You-you studied in… in Paris?
Uh, yes. Uh, for, for two years.
Yeah. Best two years of my life,
if I'm honest.
I worked in a restaurant in Le Marais.
Well, I'm afraid this job might bore you.
I'm sure there's a posh restaurant
that could use you.
I mean…
Why do you want to work at Bly?
- Because it's close to home.
- Oh, well, that's honest.
Well, I-I'm… I'm too honest.
It's, it's probably pathological.
No, honesty is never that.
I'm, I'm looking at this
as an opportunity to hone my skills.
In-In Paris, I was a sous-chef,
which means
they only let me chop vegetables.
Here, I'll put everything together myself.
It would be a…
a great learning experience.
Well, you'll have two children
to cook for.
I'm not sure
that's the type of experience you want.
Miles is seven, and, well, picky.
Flora's five, and…
A darling. They both are, really.
The Wingraves,
they're here for holidays and summers.
They've been good to me.
And-And, look, I know it sounds
very Upstairs, Downstairs, but…
This is my home,
and I take great pride in it.
We need a cook
who intends to stay on for a while.
Well, um…
When my mum…
That-That is, um, when it's time to…
God, I wasn't gonna say this.
But it's part of it, I guess,
if you wanna know
why I'm applying for this.
Yesterday, my-my mother thought
it was 1962.
And that I was my grandfather.
And that's why I'm here.
To make a living while I mind her, and…
I don't know how long that will, um…
But I won't go running off.
I-I promise you that.
That's That's not who I am.
It must be very difficult.
It-It is.
Uh, and it isn't.
Have y Have you read Thomas Merton?
No, I'm I'm afraid not.
- Tell me.
- Well, he-he was a… He was a monk.
He said,
once we get past consciousness,
and identity,
and-and all of the things
that occupy the front of our brains…
You…
Reach a transcendence…
An infinitely abundant source,
or what have you.
So, if you take someone
with dementia, for instance,
and-and their consciousness
is wearing away every day, right?
You see underneath it, and it's…
Look, I…
I don't know if it's transcendent,
but I'm…
learning a lot about being alive.
I mean, a lot.
Mrs. Grose.
They're here.
Uh, sorry, will you, uh…
Will you ex
Mrs. Grose.
The Wingraves are here.
Very good, thank you.
- Hello, Miles.
- Hi.
- Hannah, dear.
- Hi.
Hi, Mrs. Grose.
Hello, Flora, darling.
Now, have you had a fine school year?
- Careful! Straight upstairs.
- Off she goes.
God, who am I kidding?
They haven't heard a word
I've said all day.
How are things?
Oh, well, you know, uh,
same as always, ma'am.
Mrs. Grose. Lovely to be back.
Oh, lovely to have you back, sir.
Hello, Hannah.
- Lovely to see your face.
- And yours, too, sir.
We'll have tea this week.
You'll tell me all about
how numbingly constant everything is.
Well, I should like that
very much, ma'am.
You'll bring those in directly, will you?
Immediately.
Hannah?
Oh, my God.
I'm, uh…
Sorry, ma'am. I…
I…
I thought you'd left.
You usually leave before…
Is Sam coming to get you?
No.
Is he all right?
I don't know how he could be, ma'am.
Apparently, he is… Apparently, he's…
He's just fine.
Somehow, him and…
Whoever she is, they're…
They're just fine.
Oh, my.
Oh, my.
I can arrange a ride for you.
Surely, you're not walking back to town,
surely. I'll arrange a ride.
- Or take you myself.
- No, really, I'm…
Or you can stay here, you know.
For as long as you like.
Forever, if you need to.
Come, let's have a drink.
What do you want?
Oi!
- Stop it!
- Miles! Stop that this instant!
That is not funny, mate.
Don't ever do that again, you hear me?
Or I will beat the living shite
out of you. No bullshit.
I will fucking end you.
Try me.
Look at you, all flushed.
You're pretty when you blush.
Miles!
Any of us could die at any moment.
Or we could forget our entire lives,
which is like dying.
So, then, think about it.
We can't count on our future, either.
No past.
No future.
Our moments are supposed to be like…
Chapters.
No, um…
Markers?
No, that's not it, is it?
They're not.
They're like…
Like…
Pardon me.
Wait, please!
- Hiya!
- Peter!
It's nearly lunchtime.
To the kitchen, immediately.
You can play with Uncle Peter later.
Uh, slow down, or you'll break
your bloody skulls!
Don't touch me!
You can't just talk to me
like I'm some kind of whore,
disappear and then come back,
and try and act like everything is normal.
- That won't fly with me!
- What?
You talk to me like rubbish,
and I haven't heard from you in days!
- Keep it down.
- Don't tell me what to do!
I'm not. I just don't understand
why you're upset.
Last time I saw you,
you were banging on
about me having Owen's batter in my mouth.
Oh, come on.
I forgot all about that, Becs.
- I didn't.
- Becs, I…
Look, okay, I'm-I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Come here.
Please. Hey.
I don't even know who that was.
I'm just in deeper than I thought,
I guess.
You don't get to talk to me
like that again.
No, never. Never.
I pr I promise. I do.
I promise.
Okay?
Okay.
Okay?
Can I kiss you?
Honestly, Hannah.
You should give the vacuum a rest.
Live a little.
Hannah. You scared me.
What are you doing up here?
Henry asked me to pick up a few things.
What, from Charlotte's vanity?
Well, he's a sentimental bloke.
Show what's in your pocket.
Jesus, Hannah, buy me dinner first.
Very well.
So, Henry asked you to get that for him?
That's right.
- What does he want with that?
- I don't know.
- I'm just following orders.
- Uh-huh.
You know, Charlotte once told me
that necklace is over 400 years old.
It's probably worth thousands.
Well, you wouldn't think it
looking at it, would you?
You wouldn't have guessed.
Funny thing
about cleaning a house for years.
You know exactly where everything is.
Henry might be too much of a mess
to notice what you're up to,
but I'm not.
- And what am I up to?
- You're taking things that aren't yours.
You know…
…it's a mistake, isn't it?
Thinking that they're your family.
That this is your house.
There's them,
and then there's us, Hannah.
We're the help.
What do you suppose happens
when you're told to push a mop?
What? You think Henry
will take care of you?
Or what? The kids?
Do you know many housekeepers
who stay on after they retire?
Their lives go on, Hannah.
Leaving honest people like us
in its wake.
Honest, are you?
I'll have the necklace, please.
Here.
Thank you.
You know…
…you should be nicer to me, Hannah.
I mean, one word from me, and…
You'll be thrown out
with nothing but your last week's wages.
This is my home, Peter Quint.
You'll leave long before I do.
I'm looking at this
as an opportunity to hone my skills.
In Paris, I was a sous-chef,
which means
they only let you chop vegetables.
Here, I'll be putting together
everything myself.
It'd be a great learning experience.
You'll have two children to cook for, and…
So, I'm sorry. Um…
This is
It's going to sound strange, but…
Haven't we already done this?
Yes.
But we have to do it again.
Why?
You tell me.
What?
It's okay.
Let's get back to it.
In Paris, I was a sous-chef,
which means you can only cut vegetables.
Here, I'll be putting
everything together myself.
It'll be a great learning experience.
You'll have two children to cook for.
I don't know if that's the type
of experience you want.
- Miles is seven and rather picky
- Miles?
Tell me more about him.
What kind of boy is he?
- Oh, Miles is a good boy.
- Huh.
He's sweet.
He's troubled, but deep down,
oh, he's a good boy.
Troubled?
Yeah, he hasn't been the same
since his parents died.
But then what child would be?
Is he ever cruel?
Whatever would make you say that?
Little boys can be very cruel.
I should know.
- I was one.
- Oh, Miles is a good boy.
So you said.
He is.
He is a good boy,
- and he would never do anything to
- Hurt you.
Is that what you were gonna say?
- Whatever would make you say that?
- I don't know, you asked.
Okay, okay, he wouldn't hurt you.
But you admitted
he hasn't exactly been himself
since his parents died.
No, that's not what I meant.
Miles Wingrave!
What do you think you're doing?
Hey.
What on earth has gotten into you?
Enjoying a fag on a nice, sunny day.
What are you doing?
Listen, Miles…
Look, I know you miss Peter,
and-and I know it's confusing
the way he's run off.
If you wanna keep his lighter,
it's okay with me,
as long as you're safe with it.
But you cannot, under any circumstances,
be smoking.
Or do you want to die
a horrible, choking death, hm?
Oh, Hannah.
Honestly.
Uh, Miles.
Honestly.
Miles!
Miles, we're not finished here.
Miles!
Oh, God.
Miles!
Oh, hello.
Oh, hello. Did Miles come in here?
Just now.
Come have a seat.
Oh, I lit it for you.
I hope you don't mind.
Who is it for?
Well, that's the spirit!
Moving on and moving up.
That's for Sam.
He may not be dead,
but nobody's perfect, are they?
I didn't think you lit
remembrance candles for the living.
Oh, you don't normally.
But, for him, a special case.
Come sit,
I want to talk to you about something.
What would you say
to making your position live-in?
- I'd have to sell my house.
- Precisely.
And that would be
a lovely nest egg for you.
And we would compensate you accordingly,
of course.
Oh, but Sam…
Well, we light that candle for him,
don't we?
Because Sam is gone.
Because Sam is gone.
I appreciate the offer.
Really, I do, Charlotte, but, um…
Sam is…
He's just going through a phase.
And he'll be back.
He will.
He will be back.
It's funny.
Marriage is like religion, in a way.
You are told to have blind faith in God,
even though you can't see him.
And you're told
to have blind faith in your husband,
even if you hardly ever see him.
But is that realistic?
How long can you actually believe
in something?
I mean, truly believe in it,
without seeing it.
They both have their limits
in that regard.
Well, what's the alternative?
Believe in nothing?
Then what?
What have you got when your back's
against the wall when there's…
Nothing left for you but faith?
I mean, I…
I still love him.
God help me, I do.
I still love him.
And what he did was…
It was horrible, but…
Yes.
Yes, it was.
I used to be a Daddy's girl.
What?
Until, of course,
I grew up and I wasn't anymore.
I was a woman with my own opinions,
desires, and aspirations,
and my father
didn't much encourage those.
As far as he was concerned,
my dreams were far out of my reach.
And he felt I needed
to be reminded of that constantly.
So, when you find someone…
Who truly sees you,
who truly believes in you,
sometimes more
than you believe in yourself,
that you are smart enough,
and capable enough, and tells you so…
Well, you hold on to them,
and you don't let go.
Even if they're rough around the edges.
Even if they're not perfect.
Even if you lose yourself just a little.
You don't have to lose yourself
to find happiness, you know.
Don't you, though?
I mean, we all do it.
Not always. No.
I know what you're going to say, so don't.
Well, if you know what I'm gonna say,
then you know why I'd say it.
Look, I know. I know, okay?
I've never met anyone like him.
- I know he's not perfect.
- More than that, though, isn't it?
Forgive me for saying so, Rebecca, but…
He scares the shit out of me.
You don't know him, Hannah.
You don't.
He scares me, too.
But in the best way.
Being with him
might be scary at times, but…
It's also exciting, and fun.
And for the first time in my life,
that little voice in my head saying
I'm not good enough has disappeared.
It's gone.
And I've never felt so alive.
Oh, darling.
Hey, there's a difference
between feeling good and feeling alive.
The two aren't always the same.
I mean, look at you.
You look like you haven't slept
for a week.
You worry too much, okay?
- I've been with men like him before.
- No.
No, that's not true. You told me yourself.
You told me
you've never met anyone like him before.
And you don't get to have it both ways.
Hannah, honestly.
Rebecca.
I'm sorry I mentioned it.
Rebecca.
Hey.
Let me get your opinion, Rebecca.
More salt in the stew?
What?
What are you stewing on?
No, thank you. I'm… I'm not hungry.
The sweetest honey
is loathsome in its own deliciousness.
And in its taste confounds the appetite.
It smells delicious in here.
Um, Becs, can I borrow you a moment?
We had a mouse problem a few years back.
The old gardener
brought in these glue traps.
A tile about yea big, coated in glue.
No springs, no cage.
No violence. That's what he said.
No violence.
A few days later,
I come across one of these traps,
and there's something in it.
Something quite small.
Not-Not a mouse, mind. Um…
A caterpillar, I thought, maybe.
And I pick it up, I look at it.
It was a leg.
Bloody mouse leg.
Poor mouse was a few feet away.
It chewed its own leg off to escape.
The poor thing bled to death.
That man is a glue trap.
And when Rebecca realizes it,
she won't come out whole, she'll just…
She'll think she's okay.
Till she realizes she's stuck.
Denial.
I'm looking at this
as an opportunity to hone my skills.
In Paris, I was a sous-chef, which means
they only let me chop vegetables.
Here, I'd be putting together
everything myself.
It'd be a great learning experience.
We need a cook
who intends to stay on for a while.
Oh, when the time comes,
I won't go running off.
I promise you that.
No.
I'll be stuck in this glue trap of a town
just like everyone else.
- You're familiar with glue traps.
- We talked about that once.
Not yet, we haven't.
Technically.
But I thought about it
for weeks after we did.
Thought about what that must feel like.
That glue…
Setting in…
Before we really know it.
That bottomless,
icy terror…
Realizing that we may be stuck forever.
Do you think a mouse
is capable of that kind of realization?
Does a mouse know when it's already over?
Do we?
We?
People.
Do we realize when we're in the glue?
Or when the water around us is boiling?
Or do we sit there,
saying this will be okay?
I'm okay.
Denial!
That's morbid.
God, that's what this is.
This is… This is morbid.
- Be careful.
- It's morbid!
Stay.
I have to be at the bank in the morning.
Just stay a bit longer, please.
I wish I could.
I have to tell you something.
What?
What is it?
I've never had anything in my life.
I've never had…
Money, or, um…
A family…
Or…
love.
Or safety.
Until I found you.
What's going on?
I'm doing something big.
Something big for both of us.
You're not making much sense.
We're not like them, Becs.
Okay? We're not.
Henry's never gonna give you
the pupilage.
He's never gonna make me a partner.
The only thing
the English care about is class.
And you and I…
We're always gonna be the help,
in their eyes.
Aren't we?
And we both know that, deep down.
But the only thing Americans care about…
Is money.
And…
If I had enough of that…
In the States,
I mean, you can be
whatever kind of lawyer you want.
I can be anything at all.
And we The things that we could be,
in America.
With money.
Do you understand what I'm saying?
So, I…
I need you to pack your bags
and be ready to go.
- Tomorrow night.
- What are you talking about?
- I can't just
- Please, please.
Please, just do that for me.
And I promise,
I'll explain everything when I get back.
But you trust me?
Yes, I
You be ready to go.
And don't tell anyone.
Anyone. You understand?
There's a few things for me to do,
and then I'm coming back here for you,
I promise.
I promise.
I love you.
We're getting out of here.
We're getting out of here.
The things that we're gonna be,
you and I,
in America.
Ohh… A lord…
And his lady.
No, a queen and her stable boy.
All right.
This is one of my favorites.
I don't find myself in this one
too often, but…
…I like it when I do.
Because he is…
Well, you saw.
He's so much himself in this one.
Before it went bad.
I haven't seen you
in this one before, though.
What are you doing here? Ho
- How did you slip into my
- I-I'm so sorry.
- Miss, I'm so
- No, I wouldn't go out there.
I think this is when it happened.
I can never bring myself to watch.
- I-I… I'm so sorry, Miss
- Hannah!
I'm so sorry.
What are you doing up?
I…
What, you couldn't sleep?
We heard something.
Something downstairs.
And Flora's doll house, well…
Something strange.
I'm sure it's fine.
Go on back to bed, both of you.
I thought I said go back to bed.
Peter!
No, Miles, stay here.
I thought I said go back to bed.
What's with the faces?
Come on, back to bed.
What happened?
- What do you mean?
- What did she do to you?
Who?
Rebecca?
You're a bit too young to hear, my lad.
What's that?
It's…
The lady.
From the lake.
She's…
Don't you remember?
What?
No, no, no. No, no, no.
She's a creepy little thing, though.
Did you make that yourself?
I've seen her before.
The others…
They say…
"Stay away from her."
What others?
Oh, no.
She's coming back.
Stop.
Stop!
Stop, let me go.
Let me go! Let me go!
You bitch!
Let me go!
This as an opportunity
to hone my skills.
In Paris, I was a sous-chef,
so I only cut vegetables.
Here, I'll be doing everything myself.
- It'll be a-a great learning experience.
- Again?
- Yes, apparently, we're doing this again.
- Why?
You tell me.
I mean, this is all you.
I'm you, aren't I?
We've been doing this
since it happened, haven't we?
I'm sorry, uh…
I'm having a difficult time.
Owen, is it?
You know what?
Sure. Yes.
- Owen.
- You see, um…
I'm having the strangest of dreams.
- Are you?
- Yes, I am, but…
They're so strange.
I'm having somebody else's dream.
To sleep,
to sleep perchance to dream.
Ay, there's the rub.
For in that sleep of death,
what dreams may come
when we have shuffled off
this mortal coil.
What dreams?
Oh, well, of Peter.
And of, um…
I don't know, actually, um…
A woman.
Okay. So, a woman in bed with him.
Oh, my!
- This woman I've not met before, have I?
- Haven't you?
Rebecca.
It's two years away.
Not yet, huh?
Needs to cook a little longer, I think.
All right, then.
One more time.
- You are Hannah Grose.
- Yes.
The year is 1987.
You're at Bly.
Dominic is dead, Charlotte is dead.
Rebecca is dead.
Peter is missing.
You think.
Flora is eight.
And Miles…
Something is wrong with Miles.
Peter Quint!
You step away from that boy,
do you hear me?
The police have been looking
and looking for you,
and when they find out that you're back…
Hannah Grose.
Step away, Miles.
- He won't.
- He will.
Miles, step away.
Honestly, Hannah,
do you ever get tired of being such
- Miles.
- I swear, you're such a bore,
- and you don't know when
- To leave well enough alone.
For fuck's sake, woman!
Why can't you just leave
well enough alone?
- Miles.
- No.
Most of the time, but not right now.
And believe me,
nothing would make me happier
than to be arrested by those police
you were talking about.
To be dragged off this fucking property.
Away from this god-awful trap!
But I can't, can I?
You can't.
Because?
You're dead.
And it's such a shame…
That you had to go and follow us.
It was going so well.
Honestly, Hannah!
Mrs. Grose? What's happening?
What?
Mrs Mrs. Grose,
I'm having the strangest dream.
Miles! She's here!
She's here, and she's even prettier
than I imagined!
Oh, this is her?
Hi, Miles! It's nice to meet you.
So pleased to meet you, my lady.
Well, aren't you the gentleman?
And this must be Mrs. Grose.
Hi.
Dani.
Oh, I'm so sorry, I was, um…
Goodness, I wa I was miles away.
Yes, sorry, Hannah Grose. It's, uh…
- Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you.
- You too.
Was the journey okay?
I see you made it in one piece.
Yeah. Oh, it was perfect.
Oh, that's good.
Yes, uh, wonderful.
That Owen is a fine young man.
- He's a good sort.
- Yeah.
Right, well, let's find our way inside.
I'm sure Miss Clayton is eager
- to see the house.
- Yes.
Right. Well, come along.
- Now, how will I
- You can call me Dani.
We can't count on the past.
We can't count on the past.
That's what I learned,
taking care of Mum.
That's kind of what dementia is, isn't it?
I suppose I learned a lot in this.
Or maybe not.
But that's the biggest thing.
We can't count on the past.
I mean, we think we have it
trapped in our memories, but…
Memories fade.
We could fade at any time.
Paris.
Say it with me. Hannah Grose in Paris.
What would I do in Paris?
Well, I don't know.
Eat croissants and-and drink good wine.
And live, Hannah.
Live!
Do whatever the hell occurs to us
in the bloody moment.
You and me.
While we still can.
Yes.
Yes, Owen, I, um…
I will go to Paris with you.
Yes.
Yes.
- I'll-co-hol you later.
- No, wait.
No, no, um…
I know the road. It's fine.
Wait.
Please.
It's all good.
Christ, the state of you.
Owen!
Wait!
Wait!
Wait!
You are Hannah Grose.
The year is 1987. You are at Bly.
Miles is ten,
Flora is eight.
You are Hannah Grose,
the year is 1987, you are at Bly.
Miles is ten, Flora is eight.
You are…
You are Hannah Grose.
Hannah Grose.
You are Hannah Grose.